Monday, 27 July 2015

The Men in My life - Dad

So this series of posts is dedicated to all the men in my life. I will mostly avoid taking names, but these are men of all sorts - men of family, kith & kin, friends, lovers, prey, predators, mentors and every other dimension that you can think of.

These are men who have moulded me, men who have shaped me, who have weakened me, who have strenthened me.

And once I am able to write about them, I will also write about their women - their mothers, sisters, wives, girlfriends, even aunts, and their reaction towards my presence in these men's lives and their presence in mine.

Let's begin with the first set of men - men in immediate family. What better man to start with except the man who brought me into this world. My father !

My father lives healthy at an age of almost 56 (I'm not a bad daughter, but I can't remember birthdays, even those of the immediate family). He's employed, functional, an academic in his own right.

A man of very few words at some times and almost verbiloquous at others, we're talking of a man of deeper and more profound thought than many other men I've seen. We're talking about a man who deeply believed in nurturing kids and human lives.

We're talking of a young father who spares 1/6th of his salary towards his children's reading and music training, a father who spends 95 % of his time outside his job with his children, a father who sets the priority right. Education followed by diet followed by clothing and shelter followed by luxury.

We're talking of a father who also has siblings without children or siblings who aren't married. A father who wants his children to not be brainwashed and yet be able to give pleasure to the extended family, children who are proud but not egoistic, children who are vocal but not loquacious.

We're talking of a father, who doesn't treat his children like property, who is able to talk about sex as openly as he is able to talk about work or music or studies. We're talking of a deeply spiritual person who is capable of questioning the dogma. We're talking of a person who has inculcated both leadership as well as follower qualities in his children, who has focused on moral science and ethics more than the focus on Business Administration or accounting or biology.

A father who says that people should study science because it gives you an approach to study and  arts because it gives you an approach to life, cannot be a common man no matter how common he is.

Of course he's a human being, of course there are planning issues (no one can plan their and their children's lives to the t), of course there are temperamental weaknesses, but we are talking of love, affection, responsibility and a VERY STRONG desire to give the children a good life.

And that should tell you why I am the kind of headstrong and yet family-oriented woman that I am !


Today when I am 31, I know this one Man has made ALL the difference !

Thank you papa!

©Anupama Garg 2015 July


Thursday, 9 July 2015

Forever... goodbye

Lion, this is not for you,
you were meant to roar.
Rule the jungle, find your lioness,
and let your dreams together soar.

Dragon, nor is it for you,
you're meant to breathe hot fire.
You already have a dragon heart,
to fulfill every desire.

Bunny, it's not even about you,
you're meant to go around hopping.
To fuck and enjoy,to keep making love,
you're meant to be groped and groping.

This is not for you man either,
you're a rational being, a Dom.
If not for lesser mortals like me,
for higher purposes you were born.

But this is for you my love,
you whom I loved with my heart, blood and soul.
And this is for you my love,
you whose heart is made of gold.

And you too, my long lost love,
you who licked my tears off my cheeks.
And for you, who pecked at my soul,
like a mother hen peaks at her babies' beaks.

This is for you my last love,
you who licked my wounds and pain.
You who left me alone, coz that made sense,
you, for whose leaving, I don't complain.

And for you my broken heart,
who aches with desire,
for the eternal blood sucking vampire.

To you my shattered soul,
as your pieces are played with like balls in golf.
And you my numb body,
as you crave for your werewolf.

And to you who strip your true self bare,
yes you, who crave for that grizzly bear.

It is to you that I say goodbye,
to you whom I don't see eye to eye.

I implore....
... just say goodbye

My wounds ooze and cry..
... please say goodbye

May your dreams soar high.
... good. bye.

To the moon may you fly...
... move on..
goodbye

Don't worry, let me cry,
you fly, goodbye

Don't worry, if I die,
I love you,
goodbye.

To you my love...
...forever, goodbye.



©Anupama Garg 2015 July

Saturday, 4 July 2015

The Monkey God who gave golden discs to the old ma


So, this one's coming right from my Grandma's chest. Both figuratively and literally for I fealth her breath calm as she would narrate this to me, my head in her lap. The fact is that I've been raised in a Hindu household and in a Marwari family,and brought up with lots and lots of childhood stories out of my grandma's chest.And true , her heart was a chest of age old wisdom, faith, devotion and the simplistic love that generation held for their family toddlers !

So, this particular story used to be a Tuesday special. I've narrated it in Marwari first and the English translation has followed with a few lines about what this story does to me even now, when I'm almost 31, every time I listen to it, or narrate it to anyone who understands the language.

The dialect I've used is not standard I believe, but I've tried to be loyal to my grandma's pronunciation, as much as I could. And I've attempted to use a picture of the Ghati wale Hanumaan ji, thanks again to my grand mother's devout faith in that temple in that particular deity and temple.


एक बाला साब की डोकरी ही । रोज दो रोठ करती, एक आप खाती, एक बाला साब न खवाती । एक दिन डोकरी न बुखार आग्यो । रोठा तो पोया, पण मिन्दर कोन'गी ।
बाला साब आया -  "डोकरी, डोकरी, रोठ !"
" म्हाराज, चूल्हा लारै पड़्या है । "

बाला साब जो - गंवहां का रोठ ले ग्या, सोना रूपा का धर ग्या।
पाड़ोसण आँच लेबा आई । सोना रूपा का चक्कर देख्या तो राजा कन` जा`र बोली "म्हाराज थाने सोहवै कै डोकरी नै सोहवै ?"

राजो रागड्यो निर्भागी;बी की मत मारी'गी - "म्हाने सोहवै, डोकरी नै काँई सोहवै ।" बो डोकरी नै बुलाई। राजा रोठ लेवै, जो - गंवहां का हो जावै; डोकरी लेवै, सोना रूपा का हो जावै ।
"बोल डोकरी ! कुण का चोर ल्याई ? कुण नै मार ल्याई?"
"म्हाराज, कोई का चोर ल्याई, न  कोई नै मार ल्याई । मनै म्हारा बालाजी म्हाराज टूठ्या । "
"देख डोकरी! साँची बोल, नहीं तो सूळी पर चढ़ा द्यूंला ।"
डोकरी लाण कण जाणै न कामण  - "म्हाराज कण जाणूँ न कामण, मनै तो म्हारा बालाजी म्हाराज टूठ्या ।" राजा डोकरी नै कोटड़ी मैँ घला दी । डोकरी लाण बाला साब को नाम ले र सोगी ।

रात का राजा का सपना म बालाजी म्हाराज आया । " देख रै राजा ! डोकरी का दो रोठ पाछी दे दीजै नहीं तो थारी सोना की नगरी की लंका बाळ द्यूंला!"
राजा की बुद्धि ठाणे आई। सुबह होतां ही डोकरी न बुला'र रोठा पाछी दिया । "लै अयै डोकरी, म्हें तनै टूठ्या !"
डोकरी ठैरी बाला साब की भगत - " म्हाराज थे टूठता तो इतरा दिन टूठता , मनै म्हारा बालाजी म्हाराज टूठ्या । "
डोकरी रोठ ले`र घरै चले`गी ।

हे बालाजी महाराज ! डोकरी नै टूठ्या जिस्या सक्कळ नै टूठजो, राजा नै रूस्या जिस्या कोई नै मत रूठजो । घटती की पूरी करजो, पूरी का परमाण छोड़जो । दो नाम घटता, दो नाम बढ़ता ! 

____________
English Translation
Once upon a time ( I know stereotypical, but afterall it's my grandma narrating this story ! :)
So, once upon a time, there was a devotee of Sri Hanumaan Ji. An old, venerable grandma, who used to cook two thick chapatis in her fireplace. She would go to the Hanumaan temple daily, without fail and offer one roti to Sri Hanumaan ji and eat the other as prasad.

One day, the grandma fell sick and couldn't visit the temple. Such was the power of her devotion that Hanumaan Ji came to her house and asked for his roti. When she told Him that the rotis were lying behind the small alcove where she used to cook them, He picked up the wheat - barley chapatis and replaced them with Gold and silver discs.

Now, those were days when people would keep at least some light in either their fireplaces, or their lamps or lanterns. It was rare in a household to not have some light which could be used to light a fire. 

But then if THAT would be true, how would women folk (specially the younger ones, with their mothers-in-law and sisters-in-law, watching them constantly), get an opportunity to talk to the neighbouring woman? :)

But no one minded going to our grandma's place, for she was well respected, humble, pious and non-gossiper. And it so happened that a neighboring woman came to ask for some fire. Since the old ma was sick, the neighbour went to the alcove to take fire herself and saw the gleaming precious disks.

Now, this neighbor obviously got jealous and complained to the King. Apparently the king wasn't easy to satisfy when it came to his greed despite his huge wealth. But to his dismay, the moment  he touched the discs, they got converted to normal rotis.

Our grandma was summoned and questioned. Poor, simple and humble as she was, she denied all accusations of robbery, theft or stealing. She simply said - "Hanumaan ji had come and must have kept them near the alcove!"And as obvious as that is, she was not believed and sentenced to death after a day on imprisonment.

That night a miracle happened! The king dreamt that he was visited by a very angry Hanumaan Ji ! Hanumaan ji destroyed his beautiful city, just like he'd done to the opulent Lanka! The king was trembling, shivering and was hoping for Hanumaan Ji to calm down, as the great Monkey- God roared, thumped, jumped furiously calling out for the king.

It took king superhuman effort to present himself and offer his obeisances. It was then that Hanumaan Ji told the king that if out of greed the king kills the old ma, his city would burn just like Lanka did.

Such a scary dream it was that the king woke up with a jolt. Sweat broke on his face as he noticed with relief that it was only a dream. He immediately called his jailor and asked him to remove the lady from the prison and put her into the kingly abode.

In the morning the first thing he did was summon his court and return the precious discs to the ols ma saying - " I'm happy with you and I give you back these discs as a reward to your honesty. "


The old ma as simple she might be, was certainly not gullible and a fool. She folded her hands, covered her head, remembered Sri Hanumaan Ji and said - "Maharaj! If you were the one rewarding me these, you'd have done it all these years, it's my Hanumaan Ji who blessed me!"

______________________

And with this, MY grandmother would fold her hands, cover her head and remember her Ishta Dev, the so-called Monkey God, the Devotee God, Sri Hanumaan Ji, who had delievered her so many times. She'd pray to Him to bless the entireuniverse, the way He did to the old woman, and not get angry at anyone like He did to the king. My grandma would hope that she's chanted sufficient names and would forgiveness for any wrong counts.

And... I know it for a fact, that my parents would narrate these stories back to my children. And some day, if I become a grandma, I will do the same - fold my hands and narrate the story of the woman who got golden discs for her devoted rotis.

Disclaimer - This is a very traditional story. My copyright is only for my style, not the content of the story.







©Anupama Garg 2015 July

Thursday, 2 July 2015

10 Aphrodisiacs for My Orgasms

1. Books

I love them!! They're orgasmic ! And this, only a book lover can understand. They come in all shapes, sizes, colors, genres, price ranges... and each of them tickles the grey cells that make me step into a different world.
They make me wonder about the world, about myself, about people, about life, about every thing the written word can communicate and about everything that it can't ! They have been the first love of my life and I wonder if I'll ever break up with them??

2. Music
All sorts, except western. Folk, Bollywood, Classical, Rabindra Sangeet, instrumental, vocal, devotional, sufi,everything and anything is a mind-shattering experience. And if I understand the lyrics it's even better!

It's interesting how instant a turn off can western music be for me, unless it's an exceptionally soft romantics from the likes of the Titanic. So THIS one is actually what my psychoemotional orgasmic states can vary because of.

3. Erotica
Does this come as a surprise. I'm sorry if I shocked you, but I'm not sorry to list this one here. However, please know that this is not the same as a porn flick. I am talking once again, my dear reader, of the written word - I am talking of the written erotica !

I am by no means talking of the sleazy Savita Bhabhi or the Mast Ram (never read them beyond a borrowed book or two), and nor am I talking of the graphic descriptions of what they publish on 100s of porn sites. I am talking of the classy sensual, control and D/s oriented well-written erotic literature.
Not the steaming creampie stories, but the mild love making combined with age difference, leadership, submission and a lot more.

4. Pain
Now this one's a little complicated. This is about what makes me who I am. I have ever since enjoyed masochism of an intellectual sort. No, am not talking of the pain that I felt when my brother was critical. That was sheer misery!

Do not please mistake me! As anal as I am about my word choice, I do NOT enjoy misery at all, but pain. And this emotional craving for pain makes me fall into bad relationships, because most 'good' men cannot relate with this need in a woman. More so, when it manifests further in the physicality it's easy for any man to get freaked out.

But what you really have to understand is that I acknowledge this desire and I would never EVER in my dreams thinking of imposing it on a non-consenting person in a non-consensual manner. There is a lot more that can be said on this, but I think I'll digress if I don't move on to the next one.

5 .Friendships and Extended Kinship

Intellectual masturbation is so much fun !! More so when it's with people who reciprocate with full vigour. Further, intellectual masturbation is fun only when  people do it without a malicious intent. It is fun only if it is for the genuine and loving reasons.

And that my friend can only happen when you connect with people to be friends, to be their kin, to be their extended family, without an ulterior motive of your own. It is possible when you really love them and relate with them.

And blessed I am with so many wonderful people in my life that this thrill of connecting with people who love, share and want to be loved back is something that gives me a solid high.


6. Food - eaten with others
I am a vegetarian and much as I deny it, the fact is that I am a foodie! But I can't eat alone. I can feed myself if I'm hungry, but I don't nourish over food I can't share. A few shared morsels are good enough for my spirits (my body needs what it does), but even a plateful can sit there in my fridge for almost a week, should I have to eat alone.

And when it comes to sharing, I share it with anyone / everyone I can strike up a conversation with. My tastebuds tickled well are certainly a path for a good sleep and in turn my happy moods.

7. A thorough head massage

Warm oil, a heavy hand, preferably a masculine hand, or that of someone like a hefty / well built / tall friend, or the hand of family / extended family; is exotic. It is extremely soothing, relaxing and yet so powerfully arousing in its own way.

Not all arousal / orgasm has to necessarily manifest into cumming and trust me, this one doesn't. But the bliss after it's over is no different. It may not be about bodily fluids, but the energy, exchange is no different.


8. Work

Another aphrodisiac, specially and more so because it can really take you to a different world. A world of reality which is as surreal as a subspace after pain. It is one of those worlds that cause you to crib, enjoy the thrill, the passion, the work, all and everything at the same time.

This however at times, takes a toll on my emotional and mental well being more so when the pressure is high. But since work for its own sake is what my driving factor has always been, I work happily.

What it means is that, whether I'm paid less or more, I will usually put in my 100 percent or rather 150 % (if I'm acknowledged properly), irrespective of what I'm paid for the job. If I'm dissatisfied about everything, I'll simply quit and not be there suffering myself or making others suffer.

But the fact is that at most times, when I'm at work, I'm in that trance like state where I do not want to think anything else and when I leave from work, I will not leave it behind, because pondering over work, gives me a very different sort of a thrill - a thrill that's almost orgasmic!


9. Creating art with Hands

Creating art with hands is divine! Thanks to the upbringing I received, doing one or the other art and craft hobby class every year, I can color, I can paint a little, I can paint cloth, I can embroid, make costume jewelry, knit, sew a little, quill, write, make stuffed toys, puppets, cards and what nots.

And believe me if you will, the thrill is divine! Intoxicating, exhilarating, liberating, meditative. It is as good as any other of the factors listed above.


10. Writing Poetry

Did I tell you that this one is not about an orgasm but about survival? Well, I did, didn't I? Please say I did !!! (Pouts* )

Well poetry is existential for me. It is my essence and my existence. And by this I mean poetry as a form of expression for me. I have to write poetry to survive. I can miss out on orgasms, but not on oxygen. And a writer's block actually suffocates me, kills me inside, makes me dead and hollow.

Poetry heals, enlivens, keeps me alive, makes me survive AND gives me mind shattering orgasms!! Erotic Poetry even leads me to physical ones! And of course you can't have an orgasm unless you breathe.

Enough about my aphrodisiacs, tell me what are yours? Pretty please !


©Anupama Garg 2015 July

Wednesday, 1 April 2015

A bottle full of many a contradiction

Power,
Submission....
I want you, craving for you,
but I will not have sex with you.
I've never felt that it's equal to making love with you.\

My heart makes love,
my body craves for sex,
my mind desires the entire gamut of socio-cultural action.

My soul however,
wonders with awe,
at this wiered concoction.

I want money,
but not at your cost,
nor at anyone else's.
I want my my money.

What would you think if I said,
I want only the hard earned baubles,
would you really get it from there honey??

Entrapped and yet free
seeking absolute
I'm a genie,
in anticipation.

I'm a genie,
trapped in a bottle,
a bottle full of many a contradiction.

©Anupama Garg 2015 March

Sunday, 29 March 2015

Kitani Girahein Kholi Hain Maine - Gulzar

Kitni girhein kholi hain maine, kitni girhein ab baaki hai

paanv mein payal, baahon mein kangan, gale mein hansli, kamar band, challe aur bichue

naak kaan chidwaayein gaye hain, aur zevar zevar kehte kehte

reet rivaaj ke rassiyon se main jakdi gayi ,uff kitni tarah main pakdi gayi

ab chilne lage hain haath paanv, aur kitni kharaashein ubhri hain,

kitni girhein kholi hain maine, kitni rassiyaan utari hain

Ang ang mera roop rang, mere naksh nain, mere bol bain

meri aawaaz mein koyal ki tareef hui, mere zulf saanp, meri zulf raat,

zulfon mein ghata mere lab gulaab, meri aankhein sharaab

ghazal aur nazmein kehte kehte husn aur ishq ke afasano mein main jakdi gayi

uff kitni tarah main pakdi gayi

main poochun zara, aankhon mein sharaab dikhe sabko, akaash nahi dekha koi

saawan bhado to dikhe magar, kya dard nahi dekha koi

phan ki jheeni si chaadar mein, buth cheele gaye uriyaani ke

taaga taaga karke poshaaq utaari gayi

mere jism pe phan ki mashq hui, aur art kala kehte kehte sange marmar mein jakdi gayi

batlaaye koi batlaaye koi, kitni girhein kholi hain maine, kitni girhein ab baaki hain

 - Gulzar

Peethal aur Paathal - Kanhaiyalal Sethiya


अरै घास री रोटी ही,
जद बन बिलावड़ो ले भाग्यो।
नान्हो सो अमर्यो चीख पड्यो,
राणा रो सोयो दुख जाग्यो।

हूं लड्यो घणो हूं सह्यो घणो,
मेवाड़ी मान बचावण नै,
हूं पाछ नहीं राखी रण में,
बैर्यां री खात खिडावण में,

जद याद करूँ हळदी घाटी
नैणां में रगत उतर आवै,
सुख दुख रो साथी चेतकड़ो
सूती सी हूक जगा ज्यावै,

पण आज बिलखतो देखूं हूँ,
जद राज कंवर नै रोटी नै,
तो क्षात्र-धरम नै भूलूं हूँ,
भूलूं हिंदवाणी चोटी नै

मैं’लां में छप्पन भोग जका
मनवार बिनां करता कोनी,
सोनै री थाल्यां नीलम रै
बाजोट बिनां धरता कोनी,

ऐ हाय जका करता पगल्या,
फूलां री कंवळी सेजां पर,
बै आज रुळै भूखा तिसिया,
हिंदवाणै सूरज रा टाबर,

आ सोच हुई दो टूक तड़क
राणा री भीम बजर छाती,
आंख्यां में आंसू भर बोल्या
मैं लिख स्यूं अकबर नै पाती,

पण लिखूं कियां जद देखै है
आडावळ ऊंचो हियो लियां,
चितौड़ खड्यो है मगरां में
विकराळ भूत सी लियां छियां,

मैं झुकूं कियां ? है आण मनैं
कुळ रा केसरिया बानां री,
मैं बुझूं कियां ? हूं सेस लपट
आजादी रै परवानां री,

पण फेर अमर री सुण बुसक्यां
राणा रो हिवड़ो भर आयो,
मैं मानूं हूँ दिल्लीस तनैं
समराट् सनेषो कैवायो।

राणा रो कागद बांच हुयो
अकबर रो’ सपनूं सो सांचो,\
पण नैण कर्यो बिसवास नहीं
जद बांच - २  नै फिर बांच्यो,

कै आज हिंमाळो पिघळ बह्यो,
कै आज हुयो सूरज सीतळ,
कै आज सेस रो सिर डोल्यो,
आ सोच हुयो समराट् विकळ,

बस दूत इसारो पा भाज्यो
पीथळ नै तुरत बुलावण नै,
किरणां रो पीथळ आ पूग्यो
ओ सांचो भरम मिटावण नै,

बीं वीर बांकुड़ै पीथळ नै,
रजपूती गौरव भारी हो,
बो क्षात्र धरम रो नेमी हो,
राणा रो प्रेम पुजारी हो,

बैर्यां रै मन रो कांटो हो
बीकाणूँ पूत खरारो हो,
राठौड़ रणां में रातो हो
बस सागी तेज दुधारो हो,

आ बात पातस्या जाणै हो,
धावां पर लूण लगावण नै,
पीथळ नै तुरत बुलायो हो,
राणा री हार बंचावण नै,

म्है बाँध लियो है पीथळ सुण
 पिंजरै में जंगळी शेर पकड़,
ओ देख हाथ रो कागद है
तूं देखां फिरसी कियां अकड़ ?

मर डूब चळू भर पाणी में,
बस झूठा गाल बजावै हो,
पण टूट गयो बीं राणा रो,
तूं भाट बण्यो बिड़दावै हो,

मैं आज पातस्या धरती रो
मेवाड़ी पाग पगां में है,
अब बता मनै किण रजवट रै
रजपती खून रगां में है ?

जंद पीथळ कागद ले देखी,
राणा री सागी सैनाणी,
नीचै स्यूं धरती खसक गई,
आंख्यां में आयो भर पाणी,

पण फेर कही ततकाळ संभळ
आ बात सफा ही झूठी है,
राणा री पाघ सदा ऊँची
राणा री आण अटूटी है।

ल्यो हुकम हुवै तो लिख पूछूं,
राणा नै कागद रै खातर,
लै पूछ भलांई पीथळ तूं, \
आ बात सही बोल्यो अकबर,

म्हे आज सुणी है नाहरियो,
स्याळां रै सागै सोवैलो,
म्हे आज सुणी है सूरजड़ो,
बादळ री ओटां खोवैलो;

म्हे आज सुणी है चातगड़ो,
धरती रो पाणी पीवैलो,
म्हे आज सुणी है हाथीड़ो,
कूकर री जूणां जीवैलो

म्हे आज सुणी है थकां खसम,
अब रांड हुवैली रजपूती,
म्हे आज सुणी है म्यानां में,
तरवार रवैली अब सूती,

तो म्हांरो हिवड़ो कांपै है
मूंछ्यां री मोड़ मरोड़ गई,
पीथळ नै राणा लिख भेज्यो
आ बात कठै तक गिणां सही ?

पीथळ रा आखर पढ़तां ही,
राणा री आँख्यां लाल हुई,
धिक्कार मनै हूँ कायर हूँ,
 नाहर री एक दकाल हुई,

हूँ भूख मरूं हूँ प्यास मरूं,
मेवाड़ धरा आजाद रवै
हूँ घोर उजाड़ां में भटकूं,
पण मन में मां री याद रवै,

हूँ रजपूतण रो जायो हूं
रजपूती करज चुकाऊंला,
ओ सीस पड़ै पण पाघ नही
दिल्ली रो मान झुकाऊंला,

पीथळ के खिमता बादल री,
जो रोकै सूर उगाळी नै,
सिंघां री हाथळ सह लेवै,
बा कूख मिली कद स्याळी नै?

धरती रो पाणी पिवै इसी,
चातग री चूंच बणी कोनी,
कूकर री जूणां जिवै इसी,
हाथी री बात सुणी कोनी,

आं हाथां में तलवार थकां,
कुण रांड़ कवै है रजपूती ?
म्यानां रै बदळै बैर्यां री,
छात्याँ में रैवैली सूती,

मेवाड़ धधकतो अंगारो
आंध्यां में चमचम चमकैलो,
कड़खै री उठती तानां पर
पग पग पर खांडो खड़कैलो,

राखो थे मूंछ्याँ ऐंठ्योड़ी,
लोही री नदी बहा द्यूंला,
हूँ अथक लडूंला अकबर स्यूँ,
उजड्यो मेवाड़ बसा द्यूंला,

जद राणा रो संदेष गयो
पीथळ री छाती दूणी ही,
हिंदवाणों सूरज चमकै हो
अकबर री दुनियां सूनी ही।



 - कन्हैया लाल सेठिया

Hum Ladenge Saathi - Avtar Singh Sandhu Paash

हम लड़ेंगे साथी, उदास मौसम के ख़िलाफ़
हम लड़ेंगे साथी, गुलाम इच्छाओं के लिये…….
हम चुनेंगे साथी, जिंदगी के टुकड़े
हथौड़ा अब भी चलता है, उदास निहाई पर
हल अब भी चलता हैं चीखती धरती पर
यह काम हमारा नहीं बनता है, प्रश्न नाचता है
प्रश्न के कंधों पर चढ़कर
हम लड़ेंगे साथी……………..
कत्ल हुए जज्बों की कसम खाकर
बुझी हुई नजरों की कसम खाकर
हाथों पर पड़े घट्टों की कसम खाकर
हम लड़ेंगे साथी…………………………….
हम लड़ेंगे तब तक
जब तक वीरू बकरिहा
बकरियों का मूत पीता है
खिले हुए सरसों के फूल को
जब तक बोने वाले खुद नहीं सूंघते
कि सूजी आंखों वाली
गांव की अध्यापिका का पति जब तक
युद्ध से लौट नहीं आता………………………
जब तक पुलिस के सिपाही
अपने भाईयों का गला घोटने को मजबूर हैं
कि दफतरों के बाबू
जब तक लिखते हैं लहू से अक्षर…………….
हम लड़ेंगे जब तक
दुनिया में लड़ने की जरुरत बाकी है
जब तक बंदूक न हुई, तब तक तलवार होगी
जब तलवार न हुई, लड़ने की लगन होगी
लड़ने का ढंग न हुआ, लड़ने की जरूरत होगी……………………
और हम लड़ेंगे साथी
हम लड़ेंगे
कि लड़े बगैर कुछ नहीं मिलता
हम लड़ेंगे
कि अब तक लड़े क्यों नहीं
हम लड़ेंगे
अपनी सजा कबूलने के लिए
लड़ते हुए जो मर गए
उनकी याद जिंदा रखने के लिए
हम लड़ेंगे……………………………………………..

 - अवतार सिंह संधु 'पाश'

Thursday, 19 March 2015

Wo Safed Roomal - The white handkerchief


उस शाम
जब घर नहीं थी मैं
और तुम दो गाँठें
एक सफ़ेद रूमाल की
बाँध गए चुपके से
घर के ताले में?
तो मेरे मन का दुःख,
तन की व्याधि
सब अचानक बह गयी मानो परनाले में ।

 
करते क्या हो आखिर
इतने दर्द का??
जो एक ही झटके में
हर लेते हो,
आत्मा से मेरी ??
कहाँ से लाते हो
कठोर स्नेह इतना ??
कि सामने मिलने आओ न आओ,
मगर तबीयत नासाज़ होने पर
मेरे पीछे से भी दे जाते हो घर की फेरी??

और वो वाला दर्द कहाँ से लाते हो ?
जो लम्बे अरसे तक
कचोटता है मन को,
तब,
 जब तुम्हें आँखों से छूने
और कानों से पी लेने को
अस्तित्त्व का हर टुकड़ा तरसता है??

और वो वाला?
जिसे तुमसे पा कर भी,
तुमसे नफरत, गुस्सा, खीझ, पीड़ा, दुःख नहीं मिलते,
बल्कि लगता है,
कि तुम्हारा दर्द है.....
तो
मुझमें जीवन अब भी बसता है !


सुनो !
अगली बार जब आओ,
तो मेरे मिलने के बावजूद,
अपनी खुशबु से बसा तुम्हारा रूमाल फिर छोड़ जाना ।
अगली बार जब आओ,
तो
हर बार की तरह
मेरे दिमाग में कोई सवाल फिर छोड़ जाना ।।

Safed Roomaal


सुनो !
अगली बार जब - २ भी आओ
मेरे पूरे अस्तित्त्व पर
अपना भीना - महकता ख्याल फिर छोड़ जाना ।
सुनो,
अगली बार.……
थोड़ा जल्दी आना,
अगली बार........
मेरे सामने आना !

आओगे न ???



That dusky evening,
I wasn't around,
to the two knots of the handkerchief,
that you tied around the lock,
I'm still bound.
All misery,illness,
it left me all..
at the drop of a hat,
and now I feel sound.

Afterall, what do you with such pain?
one that you absorb from my soul?
Where do you find the stern disciplinary love from?
that whether or not you meet me,
you make sure to visit my door even behind me,
when I feel un-whole.

And pain, of that type...
which gnaws at my heart
and wrenches me,
when my eyes crave to devour you,
and my ears
crave to drink !
And when every ounce of my being,
craves for you,
driven to the edge and the brink?

And THAT?
Which comes from you
and still doesn't make me miserable,
but causes realization to dawn upon me.
It is this pain that
makes my heart soar,
this pain
that lets me be???

Hear me if you will,
whenever you visit me next,
despite meeting me,
leave me a handkerchief,
soaked in you...
Next time when you arrive,
leave for me a question,
and also its cue...
Whenever you come next,
every time you come again,
sprinkle your being,
your essence on me,
my individuality.

And
come soon...
next time,
let me see you, my moon.
Please???

©Anupama Garg 2015 March

Ceramic mended with gold - The Kintsugi of your soul

So finally I managed to write it, thanks to a friend who posted it on facebook as his status. The Japanese art of mending broken pots and bowls with gold is a symbolic representation of people who mend their lives after bring broken to pieces.

The most skillful master is the one who can join the finest shards with perfection. And how true that is! The wisest of the people is one who can rise as a phoenix from ashes, wear the scars as badges of honor and trust me, I could think of endless other similes.

But the question, I want to really share and ponder upon with you, is the why?

Why should there be a need to mend yourself, why should there be a need to even feel broken? Why should there be a need to break for anyone.

And then I think of the reason. What needs to be done is just be.

Kinstugi - the art that makes even scars precious and beautiful


Being broken is a part of surviving. Being able to mend the broken self is a part of being alive. But being mend clay with gold is moving towards immortality. Slowly, steadily, but consistently....

©Anupama Garg 2015 March

Saturday, 14 March 2015

People - Him and Physics

When it comes to people in my life, I've met a lot of touchstones.And the more I met of them, the greedier I got. The lessons of life (and I've yet had only a few of them) were often tough, but more often, I could handle them, only because I had those holding my hand.

This is about a man, I've admired, looked up to, held in high regard not because of what he did or at what phase of my life he did it to me, but how he did it.. He started with things that had something to do with Physics and it's now about to my entire life

And what did he do? Really what? He taught me physics!

This man, the man I'm talking of, tried to not even accept me in his tutelage to begin with because he said that he taught boys and he didn't have a girls' batch. And I was fine with that. I, who hadn't spoken to any boy except brothers, cousins and family friends, was sitting in an all boys' batch, completely at a loss when it came to vectors and physical mathematics and calculations.

I didn't even feel nice about being there any longer. I wanted to vanish and go into hiding somewhere underground when he asked me if I knew vectors, I refused and he facepalmed himself.

"Now that you don't know it, let me teach you vectors before anything else. Actually if you ask me it's real simple!"

  • The Dot Product
  • The Cross Product
  • The Vector Addition
That was it ! I who was phobic of physics, was now sitting with H.C. Verma volume 2, competing against myself to finish off 50 problems a day! And that might not be any achievement for any of you who prepared for IITs and made it to those good colleges out there, to me, at that time, it was !!! :)

And eventually he stopped teaching me physics. But he had already started teaching and had taught me life THROUGH physics. His atom was not the circular Rutherford diagram I saw in books. His atom was  Shaktiman coming to life ! His heat and thermodynamics wasn't that wiered set of formulae, it was the warmth I felt in my heart ! Semiconductors were no longer some geek-looking stuff, but was actually a concept that put me in awe of what the world could be like, if not for these tiny looking atoms.

His tutelage was not physics, it was the protection from an anonymous stranger who stalked me, it was a set of words which said "Is it the first time a guy approached you? It's OK, you'll get used to it. Relax!"

His tutelage might have stopped after a year or two, his nurturing never did. At least not as long as we were in the same city. Not even when I started teaching physics with the same passion on an individual one - on - one basis to students. He gave me that passion for physics that I would have otherwise lost and the passion for life as well and that I have till date.

And the best compliment I've ever received from him, "She's a friend who used to be a student", in front of some juniors a few years later.

And one of the most precious signatures I've retrieved in my life is a piece of paper on which he wrote "Excellent" for solving a Physics problem he didn't expect anyone to solve.

In fact, while I will be eternally grateful for some forces even stronger than his to force me to think, analyze, understand and link a concept to another, I truly believe that had I not learnt physics from him, I wouldn't have loved philosophy the way I do!

It was never just about physics, it was also about poetry, it was also about music, my singing, my dad, my brother, it was always about everything. And I'm editing this post again on 19/3/2014. Because an incident today is the living proof of the fact that his nurturing hasn't stopped, his affection hasn't ceased, and it never will!

It is nice to see a picture of him recently on FB. Here's the man I'm talking about :




If you're reading this, all I want to say to you is:

Thank you!

Thank you for being who you are!

©Anupama Garg 2015 March

Saturday, 14 February 2015

All that I want to write about myself

Ok, so I have finally decided that I do need to write more frequently and more regularly. How and what to write is something I'm still not sure about. But then memes are always a good way to begin writing anything that you want to know more.

And at this moment I want to know more about myself. I am going to explore myself and write more about me, irrespective of the fact that some people might think of myself as narcissistic. So the following are a few Memes I'll write :

  1. 10 things I like / love
  2. 10 things I totally dislike
  3. 10 books that changed my life
  4. 10 people who influenced my life deeply
  5. 10 movies I totally loved
  6. 10 songs that moved me
  7. 10 hobbies I have so far indulged in
  8. 10 dilemmas of my life
  9. 10 things people do not understand about me
  10. 10 most obvious facts about me
  11. 10 things very few people know about me (very few close people)
  12. 10 things I crave for but won't have in most likelihood
  13. 10 'never say nevers' of my life
  14. 10 things I love in myself
  15. 10 things people say they love in me
  16. 10 things I would like to change in my life
  17. 10 things I wish had never discovered.
  18. 10 houses I've lived in
  19. 10 strongly positive memories in my life
  20. 10 strongly negative memories in my life
  21. 10 people I worked with and still remember
  22. 10 reasons why I write
  23. 10 Reasons I haven't been home in last 2 years
  24. 10 reasons I am who I am
  25. 10 things I love about my current job
  26. 10 things I do not love about my current job
  27. 10 things I'd like to change in the world
  28. 10 wishes if I were granted
  29. 10 things I'd pray for
  30. 10 friends who became extended family
  31. 10 lessons I learnt the hard way
  32. 10 ways I tested my parents' patience
  33. 10 sacrifices my parents and siblings made for me
  34. 10 actions I wish I had never done
  35. 10 people I'd like to say a sorry to
  36. 10 blessings I've counted 
  37. 10 people I'd like to say a thank you to
  38. 10 things I'm scared of
  39. 10 experiences that changed me deeper than I knew
  40. 10 Things I would never want to change in my life.

And then I'm sure you'll come up with more suggestions.

For now, stay tuned.... for I'm posting this while I am on a self-destructively workoholic trip.

©Anupama Garg 2015 February

Friday, 23 January 2015

Ek kaur Khichdi - खिचड़ी का एक कौर

कुछ दाल,
थोड़ा चावल ।
कुछ मुस्कराहट,
बहुत बरसते बादल ॥

मुट्ठी भर खिचड़ी,
तबीयत नासाज़,
कुछ बिगड़ी ।

नीचे ठण्ड में खड़े ना रहना पड़े ज़्यादा तुम्हे
इसलिए दौड़ आना तीन मंज़िल;
और चुपचाप मेरा पालतू बिल्ली सा
तुम्हारे पीछे पीछे
फिर सीढ़ी चढ़ जाना ।


मैंने भगवान को भोग
कम ही लगाया है,
पर जब तक हो सके
खाना किसी के साथ ही खाया है ।


जूठा खिलाने में मगर,
हमेशा शर्म आती है;
और वो भी खिचड़ी ??


तुम्हारा मुझसे थाली माँगना
सकुचा गया मुझे,
उसी में से एक कौर खा लेना
भिगा गया मुझे ।
और फिर एक कौर मुझे अपने हाथ से खिलाना
मेरी मुर्दनी से जिला गया मुझे ॥
उसी एक कौर खिचड़ी के भरोसे


पिछले पूरे हफ्ते,
मैं ज़िन्दगी का ज़हर
उफ़ किये बिना पी गयी ।
उसी एक कौर खिचड़ी के भरोसे
मैं फिर एक बार जी गयी । ।




©Anupama Garg 2015 January

Tuesday, 23 December 2014

Agni Pareeksha

This is a poem on how the contemporary woman feels on the legends of Devi Sita, Anusuya and others to be forcefully set as examples to be followed.While I personally believe that they were exemplary women, I also believe in the supremacy of consent, irrespective of socio-cultural norms.

I do not claim to be a spokesperson for the  contemporary woman, nor am I radical feminist, activist. I simply state how I would feel if I were to live an exemplary life. I do not seek to be raised to the high pedestal of a Devi but to remain the mortal human I am.

Below is a poem, that I've transliterated in Roman Hindi, for some of my readers, simply for the ease of reading. Please note that this isn't a translation.



Raam banne ka daayitva jab odha ha tumne,
To kya socha tha?
Seeta main banoongi har baar???

राम बनने का दायित्व जब ओढ़ा था तुमने,
तो क्या सोचा था?
 सीता मैं बनूँगी हर बार???

Main banti seeta,
har baar banti,
Basharte apni ichchhha se,
Magar mere seeta banne ke badle,
Tumhe kyon mile,
Har baar meri Agni Pareksha ka Adhikaar???

मैं बनती सीता,
हर बार बनती,
बशर्ते अपनी इच्छा से,
मगर मेरे सीता बनने के बदले,
तुम्हें क्यों मिले,
हर बार मेरी अग्नि-परीक्षा का अधिकार???

Tumse to ravan bhala,
jisne shareer zaroor baandha,
Magar mere man par nahi kiya atyachaar.
Meri haan ka,
Jo ant tak karta raha intezaar,
meri naa ke uttar mein jiska sab kuch lut gaya,
Sone ki lanka hui char char...

तुमसे तो रावण भला,
जिसने शरीर ज़रूर बाँधा,
मगर मेरे मन पर,
नहीं किया अत्याचार।
मेरी हाँ का जिसने,
अंत तक किया इंतज़ार,
मेरी ना के उत्तर में जिसका सब कुछ लूट गया,
सोने की लंका हुई छार - छार.


Tumhare maryada purushottam hone ka dansh saha maine,
Yaad rakho isiliye hoti hai tumhari jai jaikaar.

तुम्हारे मर्यादा पुरुषोत्तम होने का दंश सहा मैंने,
याद रखो, इसीलिए होती है, तुम्हारी जय जयकार !!

Tumhe raam banne ka shauk hai?
Zaroor bano!!!

तुम्हें राम बनने का शौक  है?
ज़रूर बनो !!!

Tumhe raam banne ka shauk hai,
Zaroor bano,
Nahi rokoongi tumhe,
Magar yaad rakhna,
main nahi banoongi seeta har baar...

तुम्हें राम बनने का शौक  है?
ज़रूर बनो !!!
नहीं रोकूंगी तुम्हें ।
मगर याद रखना,
मैं नहीं बनूँगी सीता हर बार!!


Tumhe raam banne ka shauk hai,
Bano,
Zaroor bano
Nahi rokoongi,
Magar yaad rakhna,
Main nahin banoongi seeta iss baar !!!

तुम्हें राम बनने का शौक  है?
ज़रूर बनो !!!
नहीं रोकूंगी!
मगर याद रखना,
मैं नहीं बनूँगी सीता इस बार



©Anupama Garg 2014 October

Monday, 24 November 2014

We write to taste life twice

Anais Nin - "We write to taste life twice..."

I've been thinking about what Anais Nin has to say about writing. I like what she says about writing as breathing, singing and what not. And in particular I love this one.


"We Write to Taste Life Twice"


And this makes me realize that I write because I want to live. And to truly live is to taste life twice. To truly live is to truly love and to love is to taste the feeling again.

I learnt very early about the five senses - we all do. The sense of touch, sight, smell, hearing, taste. And some of us are lucky enough for parents, teachers, mentors, lovers etc. to teach us before we grow up that the sixth sense is a combination of all five and much more.

And when I learnt writing, I realized that I was using at least one or two senses in describing anything or any incident that I was reliving. But then this use of senses while writing wasn't planned, it wasn't intentional either. It was more with a thought of bringing to memory the one thing that made the strongest impression on my mind. And then describing it would make me feel like that incident was alive again and the object or the person was right there.

I was almost 27 when I first learnt that the more senses you use when you write, the more alive the writing is. It was a learning because a teacher taught me that. I started using the tool and noticed the change. It's true.

And the more I did of it while writing poetry and while writing memoirs, the more alive my poetry became. Did it become more alive because I used the right tools? OR did it actually become more alive because the tools helped me relive and retaste my life again?

I now believe that the latter holds more truth than the former. And with that said, We do write to taste life twice. And I enjoy tasting it again and again so I read and re-read as well :)


© Anupama Garg



Saturday, 22 November 2014

Anupama who are you ?

So someone asked me today - who are you? What do you want? What is it that makes you - you?

And while I tried to give them the usual answers that I often do, I kept wondering, all through the process of this question - who I am exactly.

Of course, since I refuse to indulge in jargon, I wondered. Am I the child prodigy who I was? Or the loved daughter in the top left corner of this collage? A beloved sister of my brothers and an endless number of other brothers and sisters who call me didi and really mean it?

Am I this person who lives to read and write as in the bottom right or the professional in the top right or centre left from top? Am I this lost creature who sometimes just loves to stare the green or the one who travels in an auto to make sure that I can earn baubles enough to continue with the drudgery that we call life?

Am I my ambitions, my unrealized future or my realized, celebrated past? And trust me these pictures are all relatively new ones, not the typical childhood pics, not even one of them. When I glanced through just these, I had a myriad of emotions surging within me. Am I that surge?

The question has been answered to the person who asked it, but the question has risen once again within me. I lack the dedication and energy and consistent discipline to unleash  the potential within me. I'm scared of myself. I'm not sure what will happen if I find out who I am.

But I've always had this craving of finding out and may this craving continue.

Lord,
Help me find who I am.
For some claim,
I'm the Brahman,
Aham Brahmasmi.
Others claim neti - neti for you,
and then that I am a speck of who you are.
Help me find for myself,
who I am,
who I might be.
But more than anything,
help me not make a cult of it.

Amen!

© Anupama Garg

Thursday, 20 November 2014

Art and me - Filling blank spaces through jewelry

I was young when my parents exposed me to art. Art in all those forms that they had an access to, as a lower - middle - class - single - member - earning couple. But one thing that they had very different from a lot of other parents (their contemporaries and mine too, many more before them and those yet to come as well) was clarity.

My dad knew that the reason behind me joining at least one hobby course every summer was not to make me the marriageable material who knows stitching, sewing, painting, making some stuff toys and puppets, garlands and what not. The main objective was to channelize the whole lot of energy I had left in me, after I studied, played around, read and sang and everything else that I did.

It was till almost the 16th year of my age that this trend continued. And then it stopped, stayed as such for almost a decade, before I started learning artsy stuff again. And the rebound happened with beading and jewelry making. Here are the images of something I made a long while ago.

Now, the idea was not to show off what I made, the idea was to share why do I even make jewelery. True, I started with the intention that I wanted to wear the jewelry, then for some time it was get applause, then it was to generate revenue as well.


Given, last three years I haven't made much, and I am no longer too keen on it either. But then, here's what I really wanted to write about:

Why does any form of art appeal to me? Why did I continue dabbling in jewelry? Why did I (unlike professionals), not design the jewelry first and instead buy the material before and then assemble it later?

It took me some introspection and some serious thought before I found the answer. It was so obvious that it was almost invisible. I do this because I want to fill spaces.

It's no longer about channelizing energy any more, I know ten other things that I can do for that. It is now about filling those blank spaces in my head which get engrossed in color sequencing, bead sequencing, making sure of the knots and the locks.

It is a semi-meditative state of mind, whenever it happens (it rarely does now, my material is at home and I am in Delhi) and whenever I do it alone; It is an enjoyable time shared with mom, if and when we do it together, rarely now as it is.

I'm working on finding a substitute to beading, quilling, making cards and a lot more now. Or maybe I'll simply restart all of that again. The blank spaces are growing in size again.

But till then I'll leave you to think about what is it that fills your blank spaces? :)


© Anupama Garg

p.s. I removed the images for my blog is penalized for some wiered reason


Tuesday, 18 November 2014

Paapad

This poem was written when a friend gave me a challenge to write on paapad one of these days when we were playing poetry extempore together. We enjoyed it, because we both are from the same community and have similar ways of eating paapads. I guess some of you will surely enjoy it more than others, but I hope more or less all of you will enjoy this short piece :)

Paapad is a type of thin wafer prepared from very tight dough of some pulses, dried and then roasted, or fried. It can also be cooked in various combinations. Depending on the spices, condiments and flavours used, it is found in various versions like marwari paapad, bikaneri paapad, sindhi, punjabi etc.

It's a delicacy that can make you go nom nom any moment.

पापड़ तेरी कथा निराली !

उड़द, मूंग के आटे के,
माँ ने कितनी लोई बट डाली ।
पापड़....

तल के कभी, कभी भूना है,
मिर्च तेल का डोरा भी है।
कभी मूंग का, कभी उड़द का,
कभी चने का भी कोरा है ॥
भुने हुए की और कभी यूँ
मसल मसल चूरी कर डाली ।
पापड़....

खिचड़ी के संग स्वाद बढ़ाये,
और बड़ी संग साग पकाये ।
दाना मेथी संग पाक जाये,
सूखा दारु संग कुछ खाएँ।।
हर सिचुएशन तूने संभाली ।
पापड़....

© Anupama Garg


Monday, 17 November 2014

To be or not to be !

Hi ! I am Anupama!

This is my usual introduction. But the obvious question is  - Anupama who? Anupama Garg?

The daughter of my parents and the sister of my brothers? Or the professional who works at an X designation with Company Y?

Who exactly am I?

No, my friends. To those,of you who know of my philosophical inclinations,  no I am not trying to answer an existential question here. I am simply trying to discover all those facets in my personality that you have discovered in me, that I have discovered in myself and that are yet to be discovered.

Am I the poetess yet to be published? Am I the woman who lives to write and writes to live? Am I the professional who does almost everything else for living apart from what I do to live?

I am all of these and yet none of them. And I wonder what else is there for me to figure out? A lot of it apparently. My ticks, my turn offs, my preferences, my thought process, my likes, dislikes, pet peeves and what not.

Some of you don't know me yet, might think of this as a narcissist trying to get some attention, but trust me, I'm not.

The reason why I started this blog is to trace my journey and share it with everyone whom I know (or don't) and who is interested in this journey.

The reason is (as some of you know), that when I look deep inside me, I also know you and when I know you, I also discover myself. If I am the Brahman (Aham Brahmasmi) and if this is true for every existing soul, then you're Brahman too. QED.

The reason to explore however, is that I want find the purpose of my existence, the purpose that constantly changes. The purpose that is always the elusive truth.

And if at all I succeed in finding that purpose, I'd then like to embark on the journey with you, to decide whether or not I should be the object to fulfill that purpose.

I know I will continue getting your help, your unconditional love, support and affection as I always have; in this journey where I will hopefully be able to decide...."To be or not to be"

© Anupama Garg

Sindoor

सिन्दूर 

सदियाँ बीत गयीं,
मैंने हनुमान को कहा था,
"सिन्दूर की रेख,
तुम्हारे प्रभु की, आयु बढाती है !"
और.…
उसने पोत लिया,
सारे बदन पर !

फिर,
सदियों सदियों,
उसी सिन्दूर की दुहाई दी गयी मुझे ।
और उसके धुल जाते ही,
थोप दी जाने लगी,
सफेदी मेरे सारे जीवन पर।

अब,
सदियाँ बीत गयी हैं।
आज
मैं सिन्दूर नहीं लगाती,
किसी राम की उम्र नहीं बढाती।
तुम्हारा समाज मुझे निर्लज्ज कहता है।

(तुम्हारा समाज वैसे पहले भी अलग नहीं था )

मैं,
अब सीता नहीं रही;
आखिर सदियों पहले का राम आज भी,
राम  ही तो रहता है?

© Anupama Garg


The Last Samurai

OK. So, I begin with a movie! The day I decide to restart writing is also the day I watch back to back movies with my friends. We watch Argo fuck yourself before we watch The Last Samurai.

And I'm glad we watched The Last Samurai towards the end. A semi-tragic beginning in the sense of the emotion, and a tragic, but unsure end, the hope for a new beginning. I must admit, I personally do not enjoy war or fight sequences a lot, specially the gory types.

But then this wasn't a war or a battle for power, nor for money or sex or any other material wealth. As cliche as it might sound, the war was between a way of life and another way of life.




I'm not going to indulge in my arguments in favor of or against either of the two ways of life. But all I'm going to say is that this movie made me wonder if I've fought enough before giving up?

I wonder if I need some Algren San or some Katsumoto San in my life to tell me what another way of life could be and how not to give up.

Call me dreamy if you would, but there have literally been innumerable days when I have dreamt of being of the warrior race. Sometimes, in the deepest of depressive episodes, I like to think of myself as a warrior. Scarred, defeated multiple times, but capable of giving life a shot worth it in so many different ways.

I never knew myself to be a fighter, till I faced a series of family and personal crises back to back. And then one day I woke up and realized that I wanted it to end. That I wanted a NORMAL life. I still sometimes like to think that way.

But that was also the day when I realized that survivors who have survived not by lying low but fighting it through, usually fight long wars. AND, they don't become normal :)

That said, the least I can say is, that the movie was motivational, inspiring and came across at the right time for me to feel my inner strength awakening again.



© Anupama Garg

Image Courtesy : http://images5.fanpop.com/image/photos/24500000/The-Last-Samurai-the-last-samurai-24583995-600-400.jpg