TiME is mYsteRiouS . . . believe me

 

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Does it happen to you? Sitting in a classroom, listening to a professor, jotting down notes and down goes my head, for a second or two, and then it happens again, and again until the end of class.

Seriously, did you get that?
Oh come on! That was me napping in the middle of a lecture.

Even though the time frame of my sleep was so small practically, I felt rejuvenated after that seconds long nap, that time definitely elongated for me (as I think about it now, may be ‘Inception‘ was true, may be a 1 min reality could be 1 hour dream).  On the contrary, some lectures end very quickly, without me anxiously looking at the clock. Although, I do find it vague and utterly discouraging, that when I look at the clock more often, the time seems to pass quite slow, contrary to when I don’t look, but then again if I think about the clock even though not looking, it will punish me for even thinking and move slow nevertheless. I call it the ‘Mystery of  Time’.

People say its all to do with my interest in the subject under study. So, why does my mind do that, why does it not work in the same fourth dimension as time, or, does it manifest some other dimension in itself. Oh, lets hold that thought for sometime and think about it. Nah, I’m just kidding, I would not pull that trick on you, you were kind enough to read it till this point, I won’t dare scare you off like that.

Take Flight With Colour

Why must somethings be black & white, let’s open doors to colours and imagine their depth

The composition, creation of our world, and evolution of our being have dealt with colors. From the old ages to modern, with open eyes, from day’s start to it’s end, working, and finally closing eyes, comforting, we are bound to the aroma of colors. Our lives have been so deeply infused with and subjected to their presence, that imagination is paralyzed without them, words lose meaning and pictures appear impossible.

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The world has been disintegrated into two pragmatic approaches, colored and black&white. Although nothing around us that exists can be bracketed to such circles of entailment, we in our own language, have devised these approaches to define the world, and lure in the system “SYMBOLISM”. Since, nothing has remained untouched and even if it is not a part of our evergreen set of known colors, we have managed to drive our brains to find the essential combinations, shades and methods to identify, and further synthesize these unknown colors and brand them names to ascertain their existence and addition to our “evergreen” set. As I go back in time (yes, time traveling), I find how we began interpreting their being, proclaiming their usage as symbols. For instance, black symbolizing darkness and submission, white symbolizing peace and purity. Further, we conferred, black as evil and white as good or prosperous. Such an assertion is predominantly based on the contrasting effect that the two colors present to the viewer, how black like a hole swallows every color on earth vanishing its existence, and on similar level, white brightens and further adds to the visual appeal of any color on earth, it even stays same for the evil black, symbolizing the good that does not blemish evil, instead presents it with a chance same as all other existent.

I am still in those old times. You do remember, I time traveled, right?

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I am in a boat, in waters, viewing this incredible “Old North Wharf” located on Nantucket Harbor. I see the beautiful houses, capped with reddish-brown, blue roofs, distinct windows, lightened white walls with light shades of brown, very light, standing tall on this seemingly translucent spread of water. The overall outlook of the place this day is vibrant, I am caught up in the moment, looking. The blue skies, smaller clustered white clouds are still, as I await the dusk that shall part me from the glory that the place bestows. Without wasting any time, I take my camera and capture the moment, hoping to secure my vision, the beauty forever but now as I see the picture, it appears bleak, its black&white with shades of gray all over the place. It is the same place but it is not, not to me, the house looks old, looks like history, that does not help me to relive it and so I blame the technology of those days. It’s not that I don’t like black&white, it does add distinction to the image, but it’s not what I was hoping to remember, it’s not the art I am interested in, it is indeed the place itself, just the way it is, just the way I wanted it to be, I would have preferred a colored outlook.

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Well then, it’s good that I have this modern camera that can take colored pictures, I did tell you I am time traveling. I took the picture again, this time it is vibrant with all I saw and as I see it, I am mesmerized and compelled to visit the place again.

A distinction I realize resides in the colored and black&white approaches, each has it’s place but latter has become a niche of some, while the former is primitive to many. I told you, I am not against black&white but urge to fill life with colors does not let me absent it’s astounding presence, to draw nature as it is supposed to be, as it is supposed to be remembered. The black&white portraits, movie shots often describe the historic times, further the pictures often have an unhappy vibe about them, somehow when we are in this generation of technological advancement where restrictions have been crossed, to provide photographers, cameramen with tools to contemplate real life, is an initiative which human society itself adopted and began uploading their pieces and instances of life to sites like Flickr, however some still practice the art of black&white expressing their views, for they tend to relate to them better.

Coveted corners of color psychology,
traveling along the perceptual stimulus,
I recognize, I understand
their appeal, charm, what they claim,
how black, powerful, dark and submissive,
how white, clean, vulnerable and pure,
how these two, unparalleled, join forces
to comply with saturation,
representing all, in black&white.

But are they absent or neglected?
dimensions I fail to attend,
why sunset, red eclipsing blue skies,
why trees, green and prosperous,
why her blue eyes, possessing depth,
have been shaded in gray.
I would have preferred, elements coupled,
reflecting delights, anguish, in subtext
of world as we know it.

One place that has remained untouched by colored associations, is the Newspaper. The ink of black on white sheets is dominant in many papers, but the reason to such a stand is quite clear. This has nothing to do with the technology, at-least not after 1990, nor does it concern itself with art, the  only reason is cost. The mechanism to infuse colored photographs implies greater costs, which is neither favorable nor beneficial to the customer and the newspaper itself. However, the possibility of coloring the newspaper, with colored photographs picking up, has led to changes and their being  has gained unprecedented success, which brings us to newspapers on special occasions, weekly supplements and latest, hot, trendy, colorful magazines, be it political, sports, technological, featuring lively pictures that gain attention.

 

 

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But it remains a commercial landscape, they are bound to comply to the ideas of profit and minimization of expenses. But, when we are concerned, the amateur photographers, we see how quickly the transition has surfaced. Black&white is bygone for the common people, they have adopted to the totality of colored proportions, an era of black&white infused with all possible colors we can comprehend.

If you talk to me about my choices of colors, you might see a lot of yellow, red,  and blue, with black&white. I have always applauded black&white for the contrast, for the clarity they depict, you cannot misunderstand or lose any corner, but when they are further imbued with many others, it becomes magical but for me to like, it has to be decent, it has to be clean, it has to be white. If you have noticed, white goes with anything, but something appeals more. So, you pick up that something and turn it into ‘your thing’. It very much defines you, even though we don’t recognize, even though sometimes our choices are restrained by available choices, but still what we have, is the best possible thing we have liked, we have kept, given our urge to experiment with colors. As for me, I seriously am a child, and may be you are too. I am certain, even though I have passed teen years, I still possess those childish attributes, which I don’t’ want to let go. May be I am crazy for not growing up, or may be not believing that I am, but the innocence, smartness, carefree nature of a child are highly attractive and joyous to my soul. But don’t get confused that I will be kidding,I won’t be taking blues or cartoons, it’s an appreciable tool to lighten the mood, to say “Hey, if you are serious then I am too, I shall always be active (quite a satire, something I wish to accomplish), evergreen, never misunderstand a child for maturity”.

P.S…. Don’t misunderstand that Black&White photography, is just black and white, they use highly complicated techniques, softwares, color filters to add drama to their black&white imagery, to adjust the gray-scale distribution to add or subtract contrast. It is indeed an art, depicting world, but we have colors for it, I am gonna stick to them for a change.

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Under Influence

They walk,
and I walk along.
I don’t cerebrate
and ask why and where?
Driven by impulse,
I follow,
absent reasons,
absent desires,
just to please,
under influence!

I pretend,
to have apprehended,
routines, customs of many
for may appear obtuse
if I don’t.
Rationality is impaired,
and even if it’s not,
I tend to neglect
for I fear their response,
under influence!

It’s captivating, the world,
beauty, joy on shallow faces,
pretense of relationships,
altering dynamics, hiding
pains, for feeble fools
we are, and adulation by
others pleases more than
our own understanding
of life and felicity,
under influence!

It’s cryptic, but
the keys lie within.
The ‘life of pretend’
a mere escape from self.
The darkest, constant concerns
mere manifestations of
shame and unresolved issues.
I ought to commit to
self exploration whilst
under influence!

For I can, and
to live my “own” life,
and not someone else’s
I must!

Check out this song if you may, I found it’s lyrics so damn fascinating and so poetic, and above all so true. I think Fleet Foxes are very much known for their fine lyrics. Click to Listen 🙂

Taking cue from a Child

The poem is written for Friday Poetically. Topic – “A Poem with a child or a youth”.

I don’t know if I have helped, but I have spent time with many kids, many of my cousins. I think many of us, being adults seem to see “us helping them grow”, but the poem I want to share is about “they helping us better”.

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When around one,
innocence resides in heart,
pleasures are only
branded with smiles,
decisions don’t weight
profits, but felicity,
convincing appears challenging,
inviting patience,
tricks by me appeal,
compelled, their visage
avers it magic,
I recognize pureness,
molded can be, imitating,
I recognize responsibility,
a year past teenage, don’t possess wisdom,
but, I think I am improving,
taking cue from a child.

Somewhere Over The Rainbow – Celebrating HOPE

Somewhere Over The Rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo Ole originally sung by Judy Garland.

I have listened to this whenever I was happy, whenever sadness swept away my very desires, whenever I felt torn down, whenever I lacked sense of imagination, I listened to it, paraphrasing its every word, taking what I can and doing what I must, and always in the due course, a smile felt on my face and I was building dreams again.

I am an optimist, if you ask me what kind of poet I wish to be (if I ever qualify as one), I would be the poet of hope, even in the most hopeless moments, I cannot stop reflect hope because I am afraid, world will never be the same without my only valued tool.

Revelations of fragmented sorrow
panned out across the sphere
a turgid crusade sweeping the gallows
I wish to betray the absenteeism
I wish to endorse the excruciations
for logistics are flawed
for time is vague, and endless
for there lies clouded in darkest regimes
keys to gateways amid horrid eclipse
I wish to entrust the synergy in act
ascribe to the domiciliary caves
for reciprocal aid is obligatory
and diffusion, beyond conscious learning.

Rambling, discursive, enveloping rationality
inclined to debate on natural order
speculating the ordeals of emigrating birds
the sun, stars, land, water and entire eternity
spoofing the riches, failing to comply
I wish to discover but not hinder
I wish to smile along but not possess
for stars shimmer, sun parts with all
for my birth right excoriates control
for relevance subdued is inhibition
I wish to envisage the realm
deserted of avarice, of corrupted souls
for hope appeals my intellect every treasured moment.

POETRY POTLUCK- Inspired by a Song

Taking CONTROL

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I don’t remember when I derailed,
from the melancholy of life,
it seemed so, the life at that point.
Inciting the fun and frolic,
for joy repleted in the “moment”,
not thinking about future period,
“not a chess genius”, crying silly excuses.
In the smaller segments,
operated like a spectator,
never involved in the game (playing),
sitting on the sidelines, praying.
The inevitable fall raised the guilt,
and its constant being adaptable,
tripping down the ladder,
trying to climb back, but the failure
disheartened, rendered actions slow,
on the fast lane, with a bicycle,
still polluting my soul.
Bankrupt of my riches,
possible omission of success, on the mind,
foreclosed the chases,
but I realize,
the emptiness, fear, laziness, sloth,
as I write to you today,
trying to change tracks, mend ways,
still on bicycle,
moving slow may be, but forward,
not expecting change immediate, today, but days after, possibly tomorrow.

Son to Mother, Happy Mother’s Day

The poem below is dedicated to my mother, she resides in Bhopal, India while I am studying in Gwalior.

 

She is the rhyme of my poetic life, artist who recognized me for good, my eyes to know the unknown. She is an extraordinary women, this is to you “Mummy”.


The divine rhyme of a verse,
an artist’s oculus rigid to the adverse,
the eyes to comprehend the incognizant,
her impressions remain salient every single moment.

The journey that I claimed,
investment she channeled returns
unclaimed,
the love she endowed is visceral,
exclaiming I am, ‘she to me is an exceptional person.

Being away, I miss the reminders, not fond though,
scolding over messed up room, spilled coco,
pecking over the uneaten food gone cold,
and here comes the fast driving, behold!

The fuss you put up with is respectful,
that you care so much drives heart cheerful,
a sociable person with generosity you are,
accorded to you our family relatives stretch far, very far.

“Good bye dear”, you called for me that night,
as I settled in the hostels, for future bright,
tears shedding from your eyes, mine buzzed off too,
as I bid adieu to my home town taking life’s cue.

The life for its most parts is uncertain,
only your being in it is fairly certain,
forgive me, if I fell short to show my love,
the bond we share is not bound to the lines above.