Good and Evil

I should not be surprised to see a cared for, thought for, planned for, nation disintegrate while ragged, hungry, lustful nation survived. Certainly man thrives best (or has at least) in a state of semi-anarchy. Then he has been strong, inventive, reliant, moving. But cage him with rules, feed him and make him healthy and I feel he will die as surely as a caged wolf dies.

It isn't that the evil wins - it never will - but it never dies. 

Trial and Error

'Trial and Error' is not really a great strategy for becoming financially stable, but currently the most-employed strategy by writers and actors in India. That needs to change. So many artists would be in better shape, and would stop being hard on themselves when it's really the system that's failing them. Because of this myth of the pure artist who is able to afford to live off of through grants, or some other mysterious way, we see many artists who feel like failures or sell-outs simply because they have to have a day job, take corporate work, or wait tables.

2018!

This year, I am turning to the land of heart's desires and utopian possibilities. Bahala ka sa na akin, universe! 

HER LETTERS ~ Review Link

‘स्त्रीची पत्रं’ : प्रेमाशिवाय, चैतन्याशिवाय जगणाऱ्या हजारो स्त्रियांची कथा

Happy Birthday Karl Marx

Why is it ok to hold a raised fist in communist salute? 

Yes I'm sure the Holodomor was about feeding people. If you have a death toll in the tens of millions, then yes you are pathetic and unworthy, so Marxism and Maoism and Nazism are all disgusting and failed in every country they have been tried. Yeah communism wants to feed the people, that is why every state socialist nation aiming for communism had massive famines that often resulted in the death of millions. Lol @ communism. Responsible for over 100 millions deaths, including self-induced famines, all in the name of feeding the people. 

On the not-so-similar lines, Nazism (by definition) invokes theories of eugenics and is therefore seen as fundamentally offensive whereas communism in practice is an economic construct who's purpose is (was) to eliminate class and have an equal society.

That's why Nazism is in a different class to communism, socialism and capitalism. Nothing to do with how countries have used these theories in the past. Communism and Nazism are both responsible for killing millions and are equally reprehensible but are equally deserving of being laughed at and mocked.

People might think I really fail to understand the political nuance of the situation.

Hitler killed millions out of hate.

Mao killed millions out of stupidity.

Pol Pot killed millions out of greed and wrath.

Stalin intentionally killed millions of people, but at least he did so strategically in order to win WWII and turn a third-rate country into one of the two major world powers by the time of his death. He made a calculated sacrifice. Was it evil? That's a matter of opinion.

I don't think it's fair to compare Stalin to Hitler, Mao, or Pol Pot. A more fair comparison would be Truman, who committed his own fair share of atrocities. Stalin succeeded at what he set out to do.

Hitler, Mao, and Pol Pot were different animals.

Yet I'll go to the extent of stating Hitler is a saint compared to Karl Marx, Mao, Pol Pot and Stalin.

तैयार रहिये।

अब 

अगर आप वामपंथी लेखक हैं
तो भूल जाइए

*सरकारी आयोजनों में आमंत्रणों को 
*विश्वविद्यालयों और संस्थाओं में आमंत्रण को
*सरकारी फंड को
*सरकारी संस्थानों से प्रोजेक्ट्स, किताबें और बाक़ी चीजों को

और याद रखिए

*आप पर हमले हो सकते हैं। प्रत्यक्ष और परोक्ष
*आप स्कैनर पर हैं
*आप ही इकलौता विपक्ष हैं अब
*अपने अस्तित्व की रक्षा के लिए बदलने होंगे मापदंड और करनी होंगीं नई पहलकदमियां।

तैयार हैं?

Akhil Bharatiya Violent Parishad.

Call it SELECTIVE freedom of speech. 

Calcutta - You can't discuss Balochistan and Kashmir by Tarek Fateh because it will create tension. (Ban on Fateh in West Bengal)

Delhi - You can raise anti-national slogans, because some intellectual morons have the right to speech on blabber anything. 

Vishvaroopam - Not a single actor came in support of Kamal Hasan. 

Padmavati- Entire bollywood came together, even all Rajpoots Hindu became terrorist. As Mr. Kashyap said - Bhagwa Atankwad. 

Kashmir - They talk about what army did, stones pelted on your own survivors. 

Why don't they talk about forceful emigration of 5lacs Kashmiri Pandits? 

At a Urdu festival Jashn-e-Rekhta, beating of Tarek Fateh is not violence, violence is what only ABVP does. 

We want freedom from this #selective_freedom_of_speech. 

Devil in Details

Watched a very popular musical movie recently.
Nice touch. Very much.
But found the devil in the details,
I don't want to be disappointed, but I don't want to
Do not read the following.
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*
*
*
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*
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*
*
If the ex-es of the heroine and her last companion are the middle-born people,
That's normal to break up with the leading actor;
And, in the scene they were fighting,
The Hero shows that she has always wanted him to find a stable job.

She won't be able to get a lot of days with her boyfriend.
This shows that she has a long-term condition that she is able to live with her life.
They are doomed to break up.
It's nothing but a pity.
There is no relationship with the pursuit of dreams.
It is not a matter of self-selfishness. 

Truth in Art

There is an uproar and a question of the truth in a work of art has engaged Bollywood and masses. A basic problem has been trying to find real solution down the centuries.

I propose to show Oscar Wilde's dictum, 'Truth is entirely and absolutely a matter of style' which might leads us to a real solution of this basic problem (or not).

By 'style', Wilde means the manner in which the artist expresses, that is, the form in which his thought embodies itself as it is born, the form that objectifies his thought. The truth of a work of art is absolutely dependent on the 'style', that is to say, the 'form' of the work. Thus making the question of truth in a work of art dependent on something within itself, and so preserves the absolute autonomy of art. This, I believe and as we shall see, is the only correct approach to the vexed question of Truth in Art. Whether, in other words, the form is absolutely true to its content. The content will be convincing if the form is convincing, and therefore it is style alone that matters. To convince us as true, any work of art as a whole, must contain within itself, in the words of Shelley, the principle of its own integrity - the integrity that results from 'that' perfect correspondent of form to content.

In the course of his dialogue, The Decay of Lying, Wilde (speaking through his spokesman Vivian) shows us that truth in Life and truth in Art are two absolutely different things. To him, the ideal of Art is to break away from 'the prison house of realism' and to create a world of its own. Hence in this connection Wilde claims: 'Truth is entirely and absolutely a matter of style.' This is just another of those apparently baffling statements of Wilde that provoke a sceptical, if not positively hostile reaction on the part of most people. A serious examination of this dictum, however, reveals its far-reaching implications. Not only this, it gives us a major criterion of aesthetic evaluation. 

To Oscar Wilde, art and literature must be and absolutely free of the shackles of external reality. What is it, if not a crude fallacy to believe in a work of art just because it happens to resemble actuality, or to disbelieve if it does not. A mere copy of an object seen in nature or real-life is necessarily unreal, since an original is there in external reality : an original that challenges the reality of the copy. But an artistic expression, has its original in the artist's mind, of which it is the objective form, having no other external reality but itself. 

I shall make it simpler by taking another example: this time from ancient Indian art. If we have before us a photograph of an actual eye and compare it with the eye in an ancient Indian painting or sculpture, we shall notice a vast difference between the two representations. If we compare both with the eye of a human being we shall notice that the photograph gives a far more accurate representation than the Indian painter of sculptor's. But this does not in any way affect the 'truth' or the 'reality' of the representation in the ancient painting or sculpture. For example; if we look at the frescoes and sculptures of Ajanta and Ellora, the representation of the eye with that strange curve strikes us as absolute truth. Any attempt to change the form of the eye to make it like an actual eye is unthinkable. I suppose if any attempt was made by the painter or sculptor to reproduce an actual eye, we would immediately consider the work to be far from true as it was trying to copy something outside itself. But by the very fact that no attempt is made to make the eye resemble an ordinary human eye, and that the artist gives his own conception of a particular form which has no model outside itself, makes the work absolutely individual as well as absolutely true to itself. 

The form is the body as well as the soul of a work of art. 

Here's another example: The Greek Myth connected with the birth of Aphrodite has appealed to artists down the centuries and, as might be expected, the goddess of Beauty rising out of the waves of the sea has been a subject to inspire many a masterpiece. And why not, I say. As far as the story of Aphrodite is concerned, we no longer believe in it as a possibility, and therefore, it is today nothing more than an attractive legend. But though we have not the faith that the ancient Greeks had in the deity, when we look at Botticelli's 'Birth of Aphrodite' we believe in her as implicitly as the Greeks believed in her, even though we do not have the religious sanction behind the belief, a belief that was part of Greek heritage. The fact that we believe in the Aphrodite of Bottecelli is due to the truth or the reality that is given her by the painter through his form. 

Even in the case of subjects treated by artists which have ceased to have objective validity, the absolute autonomy of art in the creation of truth through form is still manipulated. Which makes it a sad reality of today's times and what has happened in the name of a historical film. Now an artist of, say, the 15th of 16th century dealing with a concept that was valid in his time, carries conviction to an individual of the present age even though the latter does not believe in that concept any longer. That is, through his style or form, the artist confers truth even on things that have lost their objective validity. Hell, The Ptolemaic system of astronomy no longer stands scientific scrutiny, but that does not falsify the artistic use that Milton makes of it in the form of his great epic. Sir Thomas Browne in his fine prose speaks of a system of natural history or science that was exploded long ago, but the forgotten lore is brought to life again (and believed in) in the pages of the Religio Medici and Pseudodoxia Epidemica, only because the artist's style gives it a right to existence. Not by manipulation or distortion of it!! 

दिक़्क़त क्या है?

दिक़्क़त क्या है राष्ट्रगान गाने में? सुर नहीं लगता कि मुठ्ठी नहीं बंधती ठीक से? खड़े नहीं हो सकते 52 सेकंड? राष्ट्रगान गाना चाहिए.. बल्कि मैं तो ये भी कहती हूँ कि हर घर की छत पर, इस्तेमाल की जाने वाली हर कार, बाइक पर तिरंगा होना चाहिए. इस्तेमाल न हो रही हो तो किसी क्षेत्रीय दल का झण्डा भी चलेगा. हर घर में मोर पाला जाए.. न सिर्फ़ पाला जाए बल्कि ऐसा माहौल भी पैदा किया जाए कि मोर रह-रह कर नाचे. पूजा पाठ में कमल का फूल अनिवार्य करने में भी मुझे कोई बुराई नज़र नहीं आती, और हफ़्ते में एक दिन निश्चित तौर पर चिड़िया घर जाकर सपरिवार बाघ देखना ही देखना है, और बाघ न दिखे तो घर आकर फ़ौरन डिस्कवरी या एनिमल प्लेनेट लगा कर तब तक देखना है जब तक बाघ दिख न जाए.         

हर राष्ट्रीय प्रतीक का बराबर सम्मान होना चाहिए. होना क्या चाहिए तुमको करना ही पड़ेगा. अभी तो सिर्फ़ गाना ही भर है और तुम्हारे छत्तीस नख़रे ख़त्म नहीं हो रहे. हद है देशभक्त..!! 

WOW: “Flowers At The Door”

Workstations become 'our own' much quicker than a person does. There were flowers on my work-desk, a bouquet himself, basking in the company of yellow roses. Without bothering to look who the sender was, for almost half a minute, I was blinded by beauteous bouquet. I had reasons -

1) I probably had never seen two dozen yellow roses all bind together could look so blindingly bright (beautifullingly bright). 

2) The air got all glossy after checking out who the sender was. 

A prominent name from my past was lurching over on a plain-white card stapled on couple of rose-petals (those yellow rose-petals). It was 'the day' of the year, frequently referred on social media as, 'another year older, none the wiser'. This shenanigan made sense since ex-past and I shared same date. A heartache traveled straight to stomach where it churned and churned more. Still standing over the desk, which by now had turned into a heartbreak hotel and it became nearly impossible to stay standing. I dragged a chair close enough to desk. Action of dragging the chair felt like.. well, dragging my foot through mud that had went dry and was now clenching onto my skin. 

5 long years earlier, I was advised by a whole clan of bffs and confidants to button-up lips about the whole *af-fairy* thing. Pondering over a cliched scenario of my love-life and feeling heartbroken at the same time, I broke off in an overly crowded McDonald. There was a temptation (there always is) to let it go, to forgive, to celebrate love and be loved. But by then, an unsurity had clouded the heart and like a little girl that once I was, thought its best to put it to a safe place. So I put my heart in an imaginary bottle and hung it around my neck. I didn't enjoy suffering anymore. The chair would remain empty for the next 9 years to come. 

It's that time of the year again (same month and almost a same date). Also a strong urge washed away my resistance of showing how strongly I felt when I saw the title 'W.O.W. - Flowers on the Door'. 

PS: Earlier this year, someone came and put back my heart where it came from, and the chair isn't so empty anymore.

‘This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.’

understood

what happens when you pour your heart into a territory unknown (to you or scores of generations before you) and have response be muted or non existent? is it something you solve in 90minutes with popcorn on your lap? i'll keep living it and keep returning to the shortcomings i thought i had conquered once upon a time coz it keeps going and showing me the FOLLY OF BELIEVING it can be understood. i smiled so broadly that my face hurt. maybe i'm naive... 

६ शब्दों की है ये कहानी

क्या छ शब्दों में कोई कहानी कही जा सकती है? मेरा पहला उत्तर होगा नहीं लेकिन यह मेरा आखिरी उत्तर नहीं होगा. अगर आपका आखिरी उत्तर भी नहीं है तो इसे इस तरह सोचिये- "पार्टनर तुम्हारी पॉलिटिक्स क्या है?" क्या यह मुक्तिबोध की कहानी नहीं है. "बात बोलेगी हम नहीं" क्या शमशेर की कहानी कहने के लिए इससे अधिक शब्दों की जरूरत है? "मैं शैतान द्वारा चुना गया लेखक हूँ" यह गैलियानो की आत्मकथा है. 'अ से अनार नहीं अत्याचार' यह एक समाज के बदलने की कहानी है. 'तलाक तलाक तलाक', 'बँटवारा', १९८४, २००२, द्रोणाचार्य ये सिर्फ शब्द नहीं, ये ऐसी कहानियाँ हैं जिसे पढ़कर/सुनकर कोई भी संवेदनशील व्यक्ति रो सकता है, गुस्से से भर सकता है, एक पागल कर देने वाली बेचैनी से घिर सकता है.

जब हेमिंग्वे ने कहा था कि मैं छ शब्दों में पूरी कहानी लिख सकता हूँ तो उनका मतलब शायद ऐसी ही कहानियों से रहा होगा और ऐसी ही कहानियाँ लिखी हैं हरी राम ने. सिर्फ छ शब्दों में वो समाज का सारा सच कह जाते हैं-

पढ़िए Hari Ram की ये six words story:

बेटा, चमार-मुसलमान छोड़ सब चलेंगी!
‪#‎sixwordstory‬

यार,कास्ट इशू. पापा नहीं मानेंगे.
#sixwordstory

काश! तुम जॉब कर रहे होते!
#sixwordstory

आई लव यू एज़ अ फ्रेंड!
#sixwordstory

अफसर कड़क था,लाख पे माना.
#sixwordstory

अफसर जात भाई निकला. बच गए.
#sixwordstory

जीन्स ने देश बर्बाद कर दिया.
‪#‎six_word_story_from_dehaat‬

पढ़के कौनसा डीसी बनेंगी ये छोरी!
‪#‎six_word_story‬

हम तो सबके साथ खाते-पीते है.
‪#‎upper_caste_revolutionary‬

सरकारी नौकर है. गाड़ी देनी पड़ेगी.
#sixwordstory

साला आरक्षण ने जातिवाद फैलाया है.
#sixwordstory

बेटा, झुग्गी वालों साथ खेलना नहीं.
#sixwordstory

पढ़ने भेजा है या पॉलिटिक्स करने?
‪#‎Savarna_confession_story‬

मुर्गा चख नहीं पाये, मंगलवार था :(
#sixwordstory

लड़की पढ़ी-लिखी है,पर रहेगी दबके.
#sixwordstory

बड़ी बेहया है. घूंघट नहीं करती!
#sixwordstory

साला एससी था, फ़ैल कर दिया.
#Savarna_confession_story

क्या कहा! लड़का वाल्मीकि जात है?
‪#‎sixwordtory‬

mere 3words are not enough

i love you.
against all odds.
how are you.
now or never.
i miss you.
dont give up.
be the change.
because i can.
over and out.
laugh out loud.
be right back.
let it go.
no strings attached.
seize the day.
going my way?
until next time
health is wealth.
listen, think, speak (in that exact order).
somebody loves you.
take a walk.
you're not perfect.
roses are red.

and as Fletcher would've said, 'call your mom'.

you know nothing, Jon Snow!

unfortunately, somewhat, butchered in TV Series, here is the original scene from the book:

"Why do you read so much?"

Tyrion looked up at the sound of the voice. Jon Snow was standing a few feet away, regarding him curiously. Closing the book on a finger and asked, "Look at me and tell me what you see."

The boy looked at him suspiciously. "Is this some kind of trick? I see you. Tyrion Lannister."

Tyrion sighted. "You are remarkably polite for a bastard, Snow. What you see is a dwarf. You are what, twelve?"

"Fourteen," the boy said.

"Fourteen, and you're taller than I will ever be. My legs are short and twisted, and I walk with difficulty. I require a special saddle to keep from falling off my horse. A saddle of my own design, you may be interested to know. It was either that or ride a pony. My arms are strong enough, but again, too short. I will never make a swordsman. Had I been born a peasant, they might have left me out to die, or sold me to some slaver's grotesquerie. Alas, I was born a Lannister of Casterly Rock, and the grotesqueries are all the poorer. Things are expected of me. My father was the Hand of the King for twenty years. My brother later killed that very same king, as it turns out, but life is full of these little ironies. My sister married the new king and my repulsive nephew will be king after him. I must do my part for the honor of my House, wouldn't you agree? Yet how? Well, my legs may be too small for my body, but my head is too large, although I prefer to think it is just large enough for my mind. I have a realistic grasp of my own strengths and weaknesses. My mind is my weapon. My brother has his sword, King Robert has his warhammer, and I have my mind and a mind needs books as a sword needs a whetstone, if it is to keep its edge." Tyrion tapped the leather cover of the book. "That's why I read so much, Jon Snow."

(source and  image courtesy: Tyrion Lannister's fb page)

dear mom

you were always around. i would be lying if i won't say that it would've been nice to have you around. in a parallel world (beyond right and wrong, do's and dont's) i am making you watch Walt Disney's dumbo just like you made me watch 'boogie woogie' when all i wanted to watch ducktales

i no talk to my mom anymore, daddy issues but in a parallel world (to hell with parallel world..)

but then

but then,

she was supposed to be the one to hold it all back

and he was supposed to pour it out

for words that remained unspoken

for glances that remained unstolen

for skin tissues that remained untouched

for love that remained ungrew

but still,

she continues to keep him close

and no love but he continues to send his bests, his smilies and his typos

he continues to haunt her dreams

she continues to chase a mirage wrapped in flesh

and a wild imagination of an unparalleled universe

where number of bohemian coffee shops will surpass the number of cars and crowd on roads

where he attracts unusual weather and keeps her tongue busy

some days, he plays cupid

and some days, turns into a stone that smashes windows and breaks hearts

some days, his eyes flirt

some days, his whole being is just a smile so broad that makes his face wrinkled

some days, he is a secret lover

and on a night like this, he irons out her cold palms and whispers that maybe that's the way he prefers

it was one of the those nights

and it was his palm against her trembling feminine fingers

on nights like this, she wonders

if  she(they) has lost her (their) only chance to be mad at each other, to disappoint one another

coz the clock has long-ticked and gone

and the sand from hourglass has slipped

now her face has turned into what defines obvious

and when the big wheel will start to spin

there will be nothing

but pesky rumors and nasty smirks

and a question that why didn’t it happened

what was there to reason

to them, then she asks

given a chance what would they have preferred

a love affair

or an affair worth longing?

हम दोनों

हम दोनों एक आसमान के नीचे और बदलते मौसमों के बीच बडे हुए

हजारों किलोमीटर दूर रहके भी पास रहे

हम दोनों की इस हिम्मत की मिसाल देने के लिए शब्दों की ख़ूबसूरती की ज़रुरत नहीं

शब्दों की ख़ूबसूरती की बात करें तो चीज़ें आज भी नहीं बदली हैं

शब्द जितने खूबसूरत होंगे, बातें उतनी ही लम्बी और उलझी

बिलकुल हमारी जड़ों की तरह

उलझी हुई, गहरी और किसी तीसरे की समझ से बाहर

यहाँ बात प्यार की हो रही है तो प्यार का हावी होना ज़रूरी है

उन चीज़ों की या लोगों की हो रही है जिनसे दूर होते वक़्त

चाहे कितनी कोशिश करें

हम उनकी आँखों में देखके फिर मिलने का वादा नहीं कर पाते

वो तुमसे कहते हैं कि खराब वक़्त के लिए चेहरे पे हंसी चिपका के तैयार रहो

मैं तुमसे कहता हूँ कि प्यार को न तो सही वक़्त की ज़रुरत है, न सही जगह की

प्यार होने के लिए मुझे चाहिए तुम
तुम्हारे साथ कुछ मिनट और उन कुछ मिनटों में बैकग्राउंड में तुम्हारा पसंदीदा गाना 

प्यार की बड़ी-बड़ी बातें सुनता हूँ तो सोच में पड़ जाता हूँ

सोचता हूँ कि ये लोग प्यार करने की बनिस्बत नहीं, प्यार में जबरन पडे रहने के लिए ही शायद ऐसा करते हैं

गर ऐसा नहीं है तो एक-दूसरे की प्यार की कहानियाँ सुनते वक़्त क्यूँ हम खुद से कहते हैं, “
"तुम्हारा प्यार अच्छा, मेरा प्यार तुमसे कहीं ज्यादा अच्छा”
माना प्यार न हुआ, वजन नापने की मशीन हो गया

तुम्हारा पता नहीं 

पर मेरे साथ हमेशा ऐसा हुआ है कि जो चीज़ें मुझे याद रहीं, उन्होने मुझे बचाया

भूली हुयी चीज़ों को कोई दोबारा याद नहीं करना चाहता

तुमने कहा था जिस दिन ऐसा होगा

उस दिन सड़क पर ट्रैफिक कम, कॉफ़ी शॉप्स ज्यादा दिखेंगी

जहां हम दोनों जैसे प्यार में पडे लोग रोड ट्रिप्स और साथ में सनसेट देखने की बातें कर रहे होंगे

और बातें कर रहे होंगे नए और पुराने गानों की, एअरपोर्ट सिक्यूरिटी की और पासपोर्ट रिन्यूअल की

तुम नहीं जानती कि कोई तुमसे ऐसा ही प्यार करने लगा है

और उसके हिस्से आई हैं

प्यार की बड़ी-बड़ी बाते

उलझी हुयी, गहरी और किसी तीसरे की समझ से बाहर!