Have you ever wondered how that window to the magical world appears and opens before you? From the eyes to the mind and then you are transported into an altogether virtual world, where you are the director, cameraman, creative director, art director and the music composer, all at once. You can smell the rain and feel the heat. You wince at a blow, smile at a cheesy line, laugh at a comic one, and cry at a tragic one. You shout and swear in consternation at the injustice meted out. And at the end of it all, you heave a sigh of satisfaction or of frustration, or you cry of sorrow. What could be the initiator of such happiness or such grief?
A little poem I wrote a long time ago.
The world is patriarchal. There’s no doubt about it. Someone long ago – a man, perhaps – thought he was the greatest living being to be brought into the world and that women were made to follow and obey a man, even though only women have the power to give birth. Where would he have been if not for a woman? Would he have even been born? Irony punched itself in the face that day.
A love letter to the city I’m in love with.
They say it’s a dog-eat-dog world. It is true. But the fact that this competitiveness extends to not only careers, but also emotional capacities is something to think about. Compassion is disappearing at an alarmingly rapid rate. “My problem’s worse,” they say, without a word about anything else. How do you expect to live in such a world, one devoid of compassion? In such cases, it feels better to live and remain alone than to maintain company that shoots you down without a trace of empathy. After all, what is the world without empathy? An empty, dull sphere is all.
At a time when my confidence in my abilities was at an all-time low, I read a book called Nikola Tesla: Imagination and the Man Who Invented the 20th Century. Written by Sean Patrick, this short eBook is a confidence-booster and a savior for those creative people who are questioning their worth. This book easily shot up on my favorite list. And I know that it will remain there for the rest of eternity.
The Universe as we know it is a bouquet of multitudinous, constantly revolving, constantly moving objects. In the largest scheme of things, we figure as nothing but mere specks. God, the one Creator of everything that exists, made sure that existence didn’t show bias. Everything, from the brightest star to the dullest meteor is allowed to take its own path. Occasionally, there are explosions from them running in to each other, but who’s complaining? There are after all, certain laws that keep them away from each other most of the time. And that’s just how the Universe works. If God is content with watching the Universe learn on its own, how does one planet’s haughty rebellion even matter?
I don’t believe in divine intervention by a large margin. If that were the case, things would have been very, very different for me by now. But what I do believe is the effect of déjà vu on the human psyche. The feeling that things have happened before – that you’ve been here before and done it all.
I had narrated the story of how some people thought it was below them to talk courteously to the baristas at a coffeeshop a while ago. But that, perhaps, isn’t the only pertinent question. The question is, do we treat everyone like they’re beneath us if our work is in danger of being incomplete? If so, why is it that we think of ourselves as some sort of a God whose birth right it is to invade other people’s privacy and feel entitled to anything and everything?
The looming water crisis, that not many people are worried about, made me revamp this blog post – an essay that I had written quite a while ago. Wake up, people! It’s getting serious, and we need to help!