Clichéd Hypocrisy

I feel a lump in my throat as I begin to write this. This is about the girl, most of us can identify ourselves with. Its about her dreams, her happiness, her right to have made it to life and quite about the tragic end she succumbed to. 

This morning of December 29'2012, the first thing my sleepy consciousness managed to receive was the end of that strong lady; who fell prey to six brutes---a variant of our so-called society---haunting the streets of Delhi; who was victimized due to the negligence of our public safety system; who was perceived nothing more than fodder for the demon fed within most men by the gender stereotypes.

The only thought of the horrific night shakes me to the core. And then, there was this woman, who suffered it all. It makes me shudder, to think how life takes toll. For the government, it might be just another contingency, that it must save its asses from. For the media, maybe its just another breaking news. For the opposition, maybe its just another 'failure' to benefit from. But for that 'Damini' that I could see within each of those girls protesting at India Gate or Jantar Mantar, its a 'fear' of exploitation, of being served as fodder, of being left for injustice. 

It infuriates me much, when I hear the President's son calling it an act-in order to seek attention-by 'highly dented and painted women' and get away with it by a mere apology. It ires me when I see the Chief Minister of Delhi, campaigning on every news channel by shedding tears. It boils me, when the Prime Minister gives out an irresilient speech after a week of sheer muteness in response to the voice of the masses in a so-called democracy. The anger is not just against those in authority, but also those who deem themselves blind towards witnessing the severity of sexual assaults.

I am far from being hopeful of change for I have been supplied with good reasons to have no faith in stringent actions by the State. For it is when, we still have been hearing about one rape case or the other, every single day since Delhi, in solidarity with all the other cities of India, began protesting for the Fundamental Right to Life, for its women. For it is when, the State has been so reluctant in carrying out its operations. For its been so encouraging on part of the Government, when the youth gets sweeped behind the veil of maintaining law and order.

But, today, I fail to entertain nothing but remorse and grief. Grief for the ones who were meant to lead an equal life, who were meant to witness their aspirations to reality-to happiness, who were meant to be more than to account for some maniac's sexual deprivation or obsession or proof of manhood. Remorse for having been silent for long, for absorbing the wrongs in the society, for being hopeful since long, for letting things happen, for falling less of support to the voice of some fellow woman. 

The truth, in all its entirety, is that the ones who deem themselves virtuous are not-so virtuous after all. For they claim, to have been using women, at least in writing, either as the first resort or the last or somewhere in the middle, in order to gain a desired result in their matters. I momentarily paralyzed when I realised it coming from someone I was deeply respectful of. So when you are served with eye-openers, better not ignore them.

For that Brave-hearted woman, I can only wish peace. Maybe Justice is a thing too big to ask for, even when it can never bring back the dead. She shall always remain, along with the voices of all those who went through similar brutality, reminding us to lend our voices, when in need. Hope we learn to stand together, for each other.

Wish the other side of life is beautiful. 

A Happy Realization?

"You always have lesser time than you think you have." Those words, by Randy Pausch, shall never faint away from my memory. But this world that we commonly inhabit has had most of our fellow men living in denial. Most of myself, has been constantly trying to locate her soul, ever since I completed my bachelors. My sincerity has always been my essence since I boarded myself on this journey, at the first place. But what I simply fail to understand is, people's interest in my way with sincerity and dedication. A lady, the other day, tried to mock me, when she said, "Maybe whats missing out of your life, is a little bit of fooling around."

          Opinions are mere opinions, everybody has one. It sometimes is rather painful to see some witnessing this one life drain so smoothly, when for me, it just does not seem enough- to taste all the various professions that interest me- in a way, that it holds the power to work up my brain.

For 'twas the stage

This is apparently the reason why Dramatics is so dear to me. It is convenient enough to make you live the lives of the various characters it holds, imagining a life mostly different from yours, portraying their desires and acquainting them to the wide audiences. It seems I can pay one whole life as a tribute to the stage, though I have mostly smelled the dust, being a street play artist.

Street Plays, are nothing new that have happened to me, but its the transformation that is keeping me awake. With every instance, every play witnessed, a better person was instilled into my system. Now when this system, realizes the scenario to be more worst that can be thought of it, it just refuses to sleep.

Public Safety Services in the Capital City itself, have reached a situation, where it seems like nothing can really resolve the issue at hand. No amount of proposed bills, better rules and regulations, shall be able to better the condition. Reason being, every damn duty out there is performed by another cold-hearted person, a variable of this system. Add to it, the personal bargains of the average bureaucrat. I see, no way, no way, other than some sort of a revolution, that can burn down the current system into ashes and help sustain a better structure altogether.

And, when realisation dawns upon, you simply cannot live life like an Ostrich, anymore. Your insides fume at the merciless system and its proceedings. I refuse. I refuse to fall prey to this cobwebbed system, but does the refusal alone helps?

Exile : So be it !!

For the centuries that passed till the centuries to come, the good will be exiled- a choice in disguise- to preserve its goodnesss. Many things, I understand now mother, when you said, "The good, the evil, both lie within. Its you who makes either of them win."

This world seems so crowded sometimes, cruel always, that I wish I could comfort you with all the peace in an altogether distinct world. The world will remain the way it is, so I told him mother :

"Be strong, for I don't want the man within you fear and die; 

For times will change for you and I.
Be sturdy, for I won't leave your hand amidst;
For I will be your guardian angel- a comrade eclipsed."

I wonder how helping others can make you helpless sometimes, homeless right in the same time. 'Homelessness', that word, the meaning was unknown, now 'tis not. I could see the meaning right into his eyes, mother. I lacked the strength and a fertile reason too, to keep him from exiling himself, for I think 'tis time to let things be for a while, 'tis time to not fight back 'time' while 'tis too keen to strike you hard. But I promise you, mother, that I won't leave your son amidst, for I will always be his comrade eclipsed.

The Missing Charm !!

This piece desired a lot of mulling over, ever since the idea of writing it, at the first place, flared up. Primarily it started meting out my thoughts whenever I found myself entangled among passion and desires that didn't get a way out to flourish themselves, when mistakes started proving themselves monumental or rather hard to ratify, whenever I pretended to be strong to own my decisions and their consequences but failed miserably, but as they say there is always a right time for everything, I feel its time to make love between thoughts and words.

Life is full of energies that we share or rather feel through words, through solitude, through the blowing breeze, through people, their intimacy, through appreciation, through spirituality and but obviously their negative counterparts. In short, everything that has life shells out some sort of energy. Positive or negative, depends on what we tend to absorb or what we ought to. Energies, that we all are surrounded with, tend to determine our current state of mind or a prolonged state depending on their influential depth.

The MISSING CHARM is basically about all such energies lost which once upon a time guided us through a certain path that somehow enlightened the journey that we share throughout with those around us. That made things possible in the best of ways. That made one feel important and happy about its existence(though little), in this world that we commonly inhabit. One seems so big when one is charmed with the charm but, hold on, look at the sky which symbolizes one's little existence. Life is all about following this golden rule,"the art of surviving when you have nothing to lose and the behaviorism you dwell on when you have everything to lose".

Reality, has it, that the charm does not stay with one. It stays as long as you keep stimulating it with sheer determination towards your goals and the ultimate results. It works like the Beginner's luck. If you have it, sustain it as long as you can. If you don't, then start sharing energies. People around and their mere words can move you mountains to bring back the charm, to bring back that lost interest in your goals, to redouble your strengths for achieving the heights that you once decided to scale. Reach out for it. Lend ears, share words, share experiences. SHARE that guiding force.