Dear Chester- You held us from falling then….why the fuck?

Dear Chester

I woke up today with my endless news app flashing that you committed suicide. And I was numb, yeah numb is what only you understood fully. As I write this I go back to this young girl on a sports trip where you were introduced to me. My first rock, that thumping, that anger that I never imagined could exist, I came face to face.

To the days when I was an introvert, shy, nerd girl who thought she was ugly and was not desired by anyone (Ya there was a time when being nerd was not at all sexy) and somehow you understood me, you understood how I had complaints against everyone not understanding us. And how how how you gave a voice to all of those repressed sentiments.

And you gave all of us Alices our own wonderlands, where we would creep in to escape the complexities of life, a little world where everything was just humane. And a music that we keep listening to again and again.

And today as I read heartfelt tributes to you I know why Linkin Park is one among millions of us, it is the same reason Bennington’s death is so devastating. You helped all of us cope with our own issues for years — as an outreached hand for those struggling. “I’m holding on/ Why is everything so heavy?” It’s a simple couplet that offers a striking sense of empathy for those finding the day-to-day difficult. If it hints at the issues you were facing in your final moments, it also encourages others to try to hold on.

You don’t owe any of us a reason for suicide but you going away is scary. Depression is for real and when you say that no human is immune to wrong choices, i believe you. Maybe you were betrayed by judgmental friends and arm chair advisors without even having a hint about what you were going through.

Thank You for your “holding on” pal.

Thank You for your music pal.

RIP

Love

P

बैंगनी फूल

“क्या बकवास खाना है यार, इसे खायेगा कोई कैसे” विशाल ने टिफ़िन खोलते ही कहा. “ अगर ४ दिन और ये “खाना खाना पड़ा तो मुझसे न हो रही इंजीनियरिंग, मैं जा रहा वापस अपनी पंडिताइन के पास.”

“सुन हीरो, बाज़ार से लगी गली के आखिरी में एक पीला मकान है, एक आंटी खाना खिलाती है. और क्या बढ़िया बनाती है.” अजीत ने सिगरेट जलाते हुए कहा.

“पता चला मुझे और अगर मेरे पंडित बाप को पता चला कि मैं मुसलमान के यहाँ खाना खा रहा हूँ तो जनेऊ रखवा के चलता करेगा मुझे.”

तीन दिन बाद विशाल बाज़ार के तरफ टहल रहा था तो उसे वही पीला मकान दिखा. सोचा चल जाकर देखते हैं, जनेऊ है, जीपीएस थोड़े कि पंडित को पता चल जायेगा. कम से कम जान तो बची रहेगी.

विशाल ने दरवाज़ा खटखटाया. बेहद मामूली सा घर था, जगह जगह पेंट उखड़ा हुआ था,हाथ से बुनी हुई झालर जो अब बेरंग हो चुकी थी, दरवाज़े पर लटक रही थी. सुबह ही टूटे हुए गमले में किसी ने पानी दिया था जो नीचे फर्श पर फैला हुआ था, गमले में बैंगनी फूल लगे हुए थे. उस बेरंग से लैंडस्केप में वो बैंगनी फूल कुछ मिसफिट लग रहे थे.

तभी एक बूढी औरत ने दरवाज़ा खोला. “जी बेटा” सर पे पीला दुपट्टा डाले एक औरत सामने खड़ी थी जिसके किनारे से सफ़ेद बाल झाँक रहे थे. उस पीले दुपट्टे का रंग कई साल पहले शायद उड़ चुका था और उस कपडे पर बस पीली खुरचन रह गयी थी.

“ आंटी जी मैं यहाँ इंजीनियरिंग कॉलेज में पढ़ता हूँ. वो टिफ़िन का पूछने आया था”

“आओ बेटा, अन्दर आओ. बाहर तेज़ धूप है. शाहीन ज़रा एक गिलास ठंडा पानी तो ले आओ”

रसोई में कुछ हलचल हुई, शायद किसी ने कोई किताब बंद कर प्लेटफार्म पर गुस्से में पटकी, या हो सकता है उसका वहम हो. वह खोया ही हुआ था कि एक आवाज़ कानों में पड़ी “पानी”. सर उठाया तो उसकी नज़रें दो उदास आँखों से टकराई. उदासी भी खूबसूरत होती है ये उस दिन जाना.

काले दुपट्टे के बीच से कुछ बाल उसके चेहरे पर गिर रहे थे. कमरे में बिजली नहीं थी इसलिए पसीने की कुछ बूँदें माथे पर टिक गयी थी. पसीने की बूँदें भी उसके माथे से हटने से इनकार कर रही थी.विशाल का काशी बहुत पीछे छूट गया था बस सामने थी तो वो दो आँखें जो सामने से तो कभी का जा चुकी थी पर हट नहीं रही थी.

और अगले दिन से विशाल हर रोज़ खाने के लिए वहां जाने लगा. पता लगा शाहीन विमेंस कॉलेज में पढ़ती है, अब्बू कुछ साल पहले गुजर गए थे बस तभी से माँ बेटी टिफ़िन का काम कर के गुजारा चला रहे थे. और फिर जैसा होता है, विशाल ऑटोमैटीकली शाम को विमेंस कॉलेज के बाहर दिखने लगा. फिर पब्लिक लाइब्रेरी में बैठने लगा,बिना किताब पढ़े बैठा रहता, पर कभी शाहीन से बात करने की हिम्मत नहीं हुई.

आज शाहीन लाइब्रेरी के जगह बाज़ार की ओर निकली, निकली क्या उसकी सहेली उसे खीच कर ले जाने लगी. सहेली खरीदारी करती रही और शाहीन उसको बताती रहती कि क्या अच्छा लग रहा है. तभी शाहीन कि नज़र बैंगनी चूड़ियों पर पड़ी.विशाल ने देखा कि चूड़ियों को देखकर उसके आँखों के कोनों पे आंसूं टिक गया था.

“अरे तुझे क्या हुआ?” सहेली ने पूछा.

“कुछ नहीं यार, अब चलें कि तुझे पूरा मार्किट खरीदना है?”

“ पहले बता कि तू ऐसे दुखी क्यूँ हो गयी”

“अरे दुखी नहीं हूँ, बस अब्बा की याद आ गयी”

“चल तेरा मूड ठीक करते हैं.गोल गप्पे खाएगी?”

वो दोनों गोल गप्पे खाने लगे और शाहीन अपनी सहेली को बताने लगी कि कैसे एक ईद पर उसने परी वाली फ्रॉक कि जिद पकड़ी थी. अब्बा ने उसके लिए बैंगनी फूलों वाली फ्रॉक खरीदी जिसे देखकर वो रोने लगी.फिर अब्बा ने उसे बैंगनी परी की कहानी सुनाई, जो अब्बा ने उसे कन्विंस करने के लिए बनाई थी. ये किस्सा बताते हुए शाहीन जोर से हंस दी और उसकी सहेली ने उसे गले लगा लिया.

“बेटा एक हफ्ते मेस बंद होगा.”

“अरे क्यूँ आंटी” विशाल का कौर गले में ही अटक गया.”ईद कि वजह से?”

“अब ईद जैसा तो कुछ है नहीं बेटा, सोच रहे हैं इसकी फूफी के पास हो आयें, ईद पर मिलना भी हो जायेगा और उनकी तबियत भी कुछ ख़राब रहती है. बेटा वो इस महीने के पैसे मिल जाते तो, सफ़र का खर्चा निकल जाता.”

“जी आंटी,मैं आज शाम को ही दे जाऊंगा”

“और घर जा रहे छुट्टियों पर तो अपने अम्मी अब्बा को मेरा सलाम कहना बेटा”

“जी आंटी”

विशाल थोड़ा परेशान हो गया, एक हफ्ता बिना शाहीन को देखे, उसने आज तक उससे बात नहीं कि थी, वो उसे हमेशा देखती थी कॉलेज में, लाइब्रेरी में. पर किसी ने कभी कुछ कहा नहीं.

शाम को विशाल पीले मकान के सामने जाकर तीन बार लौट आया, उसे पता था हमेशा कि तरह शाहीन बाहर कुर्सी डाल कर पढ़ रही होगी. उसने दरवाज़ा खटखटाया. अन्दर से आवाज़ आई “कौन?”

“जी मैं विशाल आंटी “

“आओ बेटा, चाय पियोगे”

“पिला दीजिये आंटी, मन तो है. आंटी ये आपके पैसे”

“शुक्रिया बेटा”

आंटी चाय बनाने को उठी, तो विशाल शाहीन के पास जल्दी से एक पैकेट रख के आ गया.

“आंटी मुझे कुछ काम याद आ गया, मैं चलता हूँ” वह रसोई कि ओर देख के चिल्लाया.

“अरे चाय तो पीते जाओ बेटा”

“नहीं आंटी, चलता हूँ. आपको ईद मुबारक “

“तुमको भी बेटा”

ईद के एक दिन पहले कि रौनक बाज़ार में थी, चारों ओर हलचल थी, लोग खरीदारी कर रहे थे. रात के आखिरी पहर में शाहीन ने वो पैकेट खोला. अन्दर वही बैंगनी चूड़ियां थी. एक छोटी सी रंग बिरंगी गुड़िया भी साथ में रखी थी. वह मुस्कुरा दी, आँखों में फिर वही कमबख्त आंसू आकर टिक गए थे. पर आज आँखें उदास नहीं थी. बाहर ईद का चाँद मुस्कुरा रहा था और अन्दर शाहीन.

 

Because life is fucked up and Somedays never come: Postcard from P #TravelDiaries

To the young girls and boys

This postcard comes after a long time.Today I want to tell you that life will never fail to abuse you.No one will come to your rescue and some may  pretend to be there for you wholeheartedly. But no one eventually will. Your struggle is unique  because it’s yours and no one else’s. Because no one else can go through it the way you have. Maybe your ideas of what life would be like or what your dreams are ,broken and bruised. Maybe you gave all of it, and life kept bogging you down. Despite all efforts, life fucked up big time . Maybe you’ve lost a loved one despite all the forever promises, maybe you never have the time you always assumed you had. And maybe, you’re just so alone. But to the ones reading this, you’ve survived and you’re here. All those times life embarrassed you still found something which sailed you through.

Then you thought about some days. Some day you will go and live in the mountains, someday you will reach alps,someday you will write a perfect poem for that special one, someday you will take your parents on a cruise and someday you will actually be alive.

And with every passing milestone you cross after life throws boulders at you, you push away that someday further away.

Because life is fucked up big time, that someday never comes any day . All you people reading this postcard, cease the moment.

Your someday is today. Live it NOW.

Love

P.

And in that moment, they were infinite

In the moment before they went on a drive

A drive that was never a date

When friendship wore a red crimson top

The wild spirit put a dash of pink gloss

When smile decided to stay a little longer

And laughs creeped into consciousness

When It was no more the same

I don’t care turned into little efforts that looked vain

When songs had a name, a moment, a face with gleaming eyes

And the record was stuck like a flying kite in blue sky

When accidental touch became intentional

And all the mirrors in car focused on one object

Everything became upside down

We talk of firsts, the overrated firsts

The first sight, the first love, the first kiss, the first meet

But then he knew it already and she knew that from inside

That they started way before the firsts

When they didn’t even knew, they were together

They had already held their hand at a one arm distance

They had already kissed in a parallel world

In the moment, they met for the first time

They had already been in love for a lifetime

And in that moment, they were infinite

 

 

 

We travel away from strings that hold us back

In the dark spaces between
breathing and living
Rhythm and chaos
we all are puppets of a ticking clock
while time has no scale
it runs in anticipation
of danger
of nightmares
of an untimely call
of a scary unknown
of a sorry that has waited long
of a love that is lost and blurred
of letting go that was yours
It stays still and freezes
and watches silently
the becoming of a new life
the unbecoming of a yesterday
the moment before a hesitant kiss
an embrace when you feel the breath
 3 am nights with crazy friends
the travel that sets you free
the sun that paints the sky red
the starry night on a mountain top
In the dark spaces between
when life melts and
when life happens
we travel, travel away
from strings that hold us back

To a Super Hero who raised my Hero

This is not an obituary nor a condolence message (that’s one thing where my words fail me, I don’t know what to say, I have no idea what to write) So I just decided to write this to a person I never met but truly loved as a second daddy.

Dear Achan aka Super hero

Plans, plans, plan………….life exactly happens when we are busy making plans. I planned to join you all in Kerala on your family trip but “we will see next time” ruined it and believe me your chirpy picture at the beach still makes me smile. Your happiness was contagious in that picture; it could brighten anyone’s day.

 

I am writing this today to thank you for raising such a wonderful daughter. I have lived in Patna listening to your stories of how you would not whitewash your home because your daughters played a game that involved writing on walls. You gave them their freedom to do whatever they want and whoa what strong girls your daughters are today. I wish I could meet and tell you that your iconic stories about you explaining Puberty to your daughter always, almost always stays with me and this is one thing I want for my daughter too- Let  her father discussing everything that is a taboo. making her one unapologetic and fearless woman. There are your numerous stories I have heard over the year, that shows that you were one kickass daddy.

When I heard about your leaving away, I was sitting there at my room and I said to her in a regretful tone “I so much wanted to meet him” to which my friend replied “You have seen me, you know me and I am just like him, so practically you have met him.” And there I was startled at her poise, her strength to handle the toughest situation that life can throw at someone and the way she dealt with the most personal of a loss, I love you uncle for the strong-willed woman you have raised up.

You know, I am sure that the moment we would have met, we could have become best of buddies and joked about everyone else in the room, i guess we already are. But let me tell you my dear friend, you have gone nowhere. A figment of you lives in my room and is a person who is adored by all, an extension of you lies in that midnight reminders about taking my medicines, a fragment of you echoes in the laughs that break without any reason, an figment of you lies in the eyes that have a tinge of care in every matter big or small, a part of you lies in the hug that says “everything will be okay”, a fraction of you lies in the angry stares that she gives to every guy that tries to woo me, a piece of you fits into the amazing doctor she is, an extension of you is when she says “No” to everything that is wrong and the whole of you stays with us in our things called life.

And you will live on, you will live on in every moment when life is not taken seriously and his enjoyed to its core. You will live on in various lives you have touched in your own beautiful way. You will live on in every inspiring female who is a daddy’s girl.  You will live on in every decision that is taken on the lines of “Do whatever your heart wants”. You will live on in coolest hacks of parenting, you will live on among dogs that love you unconditionally. You will live on in your daughter that is not only my bestie but also my hero.

Have a party up there with all your favorite dogs and people.

We will miss you because not all superheroes wear capes, some are called Daddy.

Love you

Bon Voyage

Pooja.

No Country for old men

Population ageing is a global issue, which has been recognized to have implications on the health care and social welfare systems. The process whereby the proportion of children in the population decreases and those of old persons increases is known as the “ageing of population”. The global population of elderly has constantly been increasing during the second half of the last century. This has been possible due to easy availability of life saving drugs, control of famines, and various communicable diseases, better awareness and supply of nutrition and health facilities and comparatively better overall standard of living. These achievements have resulted in drastic reduction in mortality rates and substantial increase in the life expectancy at birth and the overall span of people.

Ageing is a continuous, irreversible, universal process, which starts from conception till the death of an individual. However, the age at which one’s productive contribution declines and one tends to be economically dependent can probably be treated as the onset of the aged stage of life.With the rapidly increasing number of aged compounded by disintegration of joint families and ever increasing influence of modernization and new life styles, the care of elderly has emerged as an important issue in India.

The common psychological problems that most of the older persons experience are : feeling of powerlessness, feeling of inferiority, depression, uselessness, isolation and reduced competence. These problems along with social disabilities like widowhood, societal prejudice and segregation aggravate the frustration of elderly people.

#SpeakingCinema

We start our Speaking Cinema with a movie that is winning critical acclaim all over for its  tale  of emotional depth and understated paradox, Hotel Salvation (Mukti Bhawan) describes the tragicomic ordeal of an over-worked modern son who is forced to set his job aside and accompany his elderly father to the holy city of Varanasi to, presumably, die.

Driving Miss daisy is about an old Jewish woman and her African-American chauffeur in the American South have a relationship that grows and improves over the years.

The Bucket List features two terminally ill men escape from a cancer ward and head off on a road trip with a wish list of to-dos before they die.

The bolywood movie Baghban was a tell tale of the ignorance and loneliness that ensues after a family betrays its old ones.A love story of an elderly couple resonated with many.

Cheeni Kum was one standalone movie depicting the emotional and sexual desires of an aged man who falls for a girl much younger of his age.

Perhaps the greatest portrayal of one’s final years is Kurosawa’s Ikiru in particular the scene where Takashi Shimura unexpectedly sings in a crowded nightclub, the boys and girls around him silent, reminded of their own fleeting mortality.

As a standout portrayal of the elderly in film, Tatie Danielle stands out. for its delicious subversion of the kindly old lady role. At 82 years old Danielle is not sweet, considerate or cute, she can be smart, cunning and deliciously bad, non- angel types.

 

Meet the Many having the same address #M #AtoZChallenge

While many movies portray Dissociative  Personality disorder perfectly it’s Split that left me in awe and yeah the ending.

The big twist comes after the plot has been resolved and even a “Split” title card comes on screen. We then cut to a diner where a TV news report tells patrons about the events we’ve just seen, and that Casey’s captor (James McAvoy) is at large and has been dubbed with the name “The Horde”. Three women begin discussing these events and one says, “Wasn’t there a guy in a wheelchair about 15 years ago? What was his name?” David Dunn (Bruce Willis) then leans forward and says, “Mr. Glass.” The camera then lingers on Dunn’s face, strongly suggesting that the emerging superhero from Shyamalan’s 2000 film will face off against The Horde.

For those who never saw Unbreakable (spoilers ahead for a 17-year-old movie), the film follows David Dunn, a security guard who’s the lone survivor of a massive train crash. Dunn eventually comes to learn that he has superpowers and that the man he thought was his mentor, Elijah Price aka Mr. Glass (Samuel L. Jackson), is actually his archnemesis. It’s a fascinating look at the tropes of the superhero genre and trying to reposition them into a more realistic framework. While the twist at the end feels unnecessary (Price is revealed to have orchestrated a series of accidents through flashbacks we couldn’t have possibly known about), the movie as a whole is fairly interesting and it’s certainly worth watching.

(Inputs from Split movie, collider)

We leave you with a poem on Multiple Personality Disorder instead:

06/03/2017 – 11.15 am

She walked into the clinic

With stilettos that sparked gold

And a skirt that whirled like poetry

She pushed the door instead of pull

‘Fuck!!” Get a slider door doc

Hello Ms. Joshi said Dr. Panicker

How are you feeling today?

Ecstatic, I just had a healing spa

Wonderful Tina, Tell me how was your week?

It was good, I am working on my new exhibition

Wow, now that’s some news.

And I am over Robert now

I think I should love myself

Perfect Tina. Let’s see your case sheet.

 

13/03/2017 11. 15 am

Doctor rushes into clinic

Only to find Robert there

“Hey Doc, You are late” with a grin

Sorry Robert, was caught in traffic”

And by the way nice shoes.

Oh, I love glitters”

Cool! So how was your week

Bad doc, breakups suck.

They Do, but it’s just a matter of time

Let me have a look at your case sheet.

I hope you are sleeping okay, no waking up all night

I try doc, I do try. She seems to have moved on.

Will you try talking to Tina Doc, Just the bro thing

I will try Robert and if she doesn’t let her go.

And continue the pills. Text me if you need something

Robert stands up to leave and pulls the door .

Push it outside Robert”

Fuck! Get a slider door Doc”

Being alone is not the same as being lonely #L #Loneliness #AtoZChallenge

We’re all a bit scared of loneliness – of being alone. Of being left. Of not being loved. Or needed. Or cared about. “Lonely” hits a spot of fear in all of us even if we don’t acknowledge it.

Being alone is a state of being by oneself without others around. It can actually be a healthy phenomenon, as everyone needs a little time away from others to plan, to think, and to rest.

However, being lonely is a different matter entirely. We are especially prone to loneliness in the modern society. Social media like Facebook, Whatsapp, or Snapchat may allow more convenient communication, but all these ways of communication neglect the importance of face-to-face socialization.

And at the end, despite many “friends” we have on the online media, they don’t really have anyone to talk to when they need friends most.

We prefer online communication to face-to-face conversation because online communication is less committed, if you don’t respond instantly, it’s okay. But face-to-face conversation doesn’t really need to be stressful. When you’re with someone who you can be comfortable with, silence is precious too.

Audrey Hepburn once said:

“As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others”

This quote highlights the importance of helping others, and also highlights the fact that most of the time we are the key to many problems we are facing; in other words, you can cure your loneliness.

Giving others a hand will help you realize your value, as you discover you are capable of doing so. And helping others also open up opportunities of deep friendships, as very often, a deep relationship is forged in adversity.

When we talk about “helping others”, you don’t need to always save others by risking life. You can just pay attention to details.

Write your colleague a card if he or she is unhappy. Read out loud for the old man living next to you. Or help a child to reach the top of a rack

#SpeakingCinema

Charulata –  Charulata, a beautiful saga of loneliness by Styajit ray himself  is based on a story by Rabindranath Tagore, Nastanirh (The broken Nest) and set in Calcutta in the late nineteenth century. Bengal Renaissance is at its peak and India is under the British rule. The film revolves around Charulata / Charu (Madhabi Mukherjee), the childless, intelligent and beautiful wife of Bhupati (Sailen Mukherjee). He edits and publishes a political newspaper. Bhupati is an upper class Bengali intellectual with a keen interest in politics and the freedom movement.

Charu is interested in the arts, literature and poetry. Though Bhupati loves his wife, he has no time for her. She has little to do in the house run by a fleet of servants. Sensing her boredom, Bhupati invites Charu’s elder brother Umapada and wife Manda to live with them. Umapada helps in running of the magazine and the printing press. Manda with her silly and crude ways is no company for the sensitive and intelligent Charulata.

Amal (Soumitra Chatterjee), Bhupati’s younger cousin comes on a visit. Bhupati asks him to encourage Charu’s cultural interests. Amal is young, handsome and is of the same age group as Charu. He has literary ambitions and shares her interests in poetry. He provides her with much needed intellectual companionship and attention. An intimate relationship develops between Charulata and Amal. There is a hint of rivalry when she publishes a short story on her own without his knowledge. He realizes that Charulata is in love with him but is reluctant to reciprocate due to the guilt involved.

As a respect to Satyajit Ray, we will discuss Charulata only in detail.

In Charulata, Satyajit Ray explores the emergence of the modern woman in the upper-class of colonial India. One can not help drawing parallels with Ibsen’s A Doll’s House.

The opening sequence is a piece of cinematic poetry. We see the young wife Charulata moving from one window to another in her house. She observes the activities of the outside world through the window blinds using opera glasses. She is like a caged bird in her mansion. We sense her curiosity and desire to know the outside world.

As she moves to the interior corridor of the house, we see her intellectual husband. He is too engrossed in a book and walks past her without even noticing her presence. She watches him as he walks away and stands reading. Charu raises her opera glasses and looks again as if he too belongs to the outside world. As Bhupati disappears from the view, she is expressionless and lets the opera glasses slip down. The camera is pulled back sharply, “like a flourish with a pen at the end of an essay …” in Ray’s words. Without a dialogue being spoken, we know Charulata is condemned to her loneliness and boredom.

In the final sequence, as Bhupati returns home after wandering aimlessly, Charu opens the door. Gently and with hesitation, she asks him to enter. A wavering Bhupati enters the door and reaches toward her hand. The shot is frozen and is followed with still images of Charu’s half-lit face, Bhupati’s half-lit face, a servant holding a lamp, a mid-shot of Charu and Bhupati and finally a long-shot of them. As the music rises the words “Nastanirh” (Bengali, The Broken Nest) fill the screen. It was ray’s cinematic answer to Tagore’s original ending in which Bhupati has to go out of town and Charu asks him to take her with him. He hesitates to which Charu says “Thak” meaning “Let it be”. As Ray explained later, it was his visual equivalent of the word “Thak”. “The two are about to reconcile and then prevented from doing so.”

Hail Satyajit Ray.