notes from my journey towards freedom....

The Journey home..

2008-10-13T12:26:00.000-07:00

Day 5 Trivandrum-->Hyderabad-->Delhi

I leave tomorrow. Its my first direct TVM-->HYD trip. A year back Hyderabad called me unawares and I became the resident of that city; and left it one fine day. I shall see again the familiar roads and a familiar man. A man who's as lost as I'm and who's as confused. We meet each other after a long time. I learned just one thing from this city; No money is worth my peace of mind. I learned many things from this man. Hence I again visit the city and the man. The city to pay my homages for giving me 4 months of anonymity. And the man for no reasons; or maybe for all the reasons.

Then Delhi. The vintage beauty. The city of all seasons and emotions and many stories, of mughal adventures and modern flamboyance. The city which comforted me during tough times, walking with me through the lonely streets and mending my broken dreams. I go back to Delhi with my heart full.

I leave tomorrow from Trivandrum. There's nothing to write about this place. Because this place is a part of my existence and my identity. I don't have a life extricated from my 23 years of Trivandrum. This is the place which I would always keep coming back to. Everywhere around this city I find my stories and old songs. I'd come back for them. This place gifted me just one thing. People. Places are but stochastic entities without the people. I live this city through the people of this city; the people who walked into my life from this place. And for this place and my people I shall return with the tide..

The Doors..

2008-10-10T13:20:00.000-07:00

Day 4 1985

"Eric, you know what your problem is ??"

"Hmmm....Maybe that I don't have any problem"

"Shut up"

"Then?"

"Its that you are scared.You want a perfect life. You are scared to disrupt that perfection. You are scared to make mistakes in life."

She tells me on my face that I'm scared,that I'm an escapist. I don't have a proper reply for that and so I try escaping with my usual euphemism.Earlier I had to fight this battle on my own;evading my own questions,confused with an atrophied mind and as a perpetual refuge of my own war. Today she fights along.Sometimes with me and most of the times against me. I lose thrice over and again. But in the end there's a smile because I didn't fight alone. Because I found a compatriot in her.

"Its complicated Eric.I don't know how to explain it"

"Its not complicated.You are just making it that way."

"No Its not like that.Tell me what do I do for this?"

"Hmmm...."

She has many questions. And I seldom have answers.But there's an incessant stream of expressions between her questions and my almost nonchalant answers.Most of the time she starts off with anger;doubt,fear,laughter,apprehension,reassurance,sadness,harmony and then a new question.It goes on. And in this cycle of seasons I find my path to myself; sometimes answering her questions and most of the times getting confused. Its not the questions that matter now. Its the season. Anger,laughter.........

"Are you happy Eric ?"

"Yes,I'm happy"

"How can you be happy?"

"Because my happiness is a function of my mind and not of my circumstances"

"Fuck your philosophy Eric"

She is blunt when I bluff. No insinuation.Right on my face. I smile because I admit it and I know it. There are not many people in this world who could read me just like that; my words and my silence. Still we have these wayward conversations and still she finds out when I'm bluffing. Then why wouldn't I change?I don't know.Maybe I just like getting caught.

"She looks beautiful"

"Who looks beautiful ?

"But her outfit doesn't suit her"

"What?"

"The vegetables are falling down.He isn't noticing that"

"What? what"?

Initially even I couldn't make head or tail out of this. Then I saw the world of her dreams. Actual dreams with vivid images. A beautiful girl with an inappropriate dress,a random man losing his vegetables on the road,group songs,pink Cats and so on. I never try to interpret her images. I just listen and I could go on listening.

I've been lucky about the few people I know in my life. And I never met anyone like this sleeptalking girl. The best thing in the world is to converse with someone as yourself. My facades break, my defence wrecks and my pretensions fail after the first "Hello" or maybe even before that. I become myself. My insecurities, my doubts, my fear,my hopes;they fail to transform into an incomprehensible verbiage;flow out seamlessly.The greatest pilgrimages are not made to places but to people who destroy your masks. I'm on my way....

And the next time I say this I already know her reply.

"Eric,you know what your problem is ?".........................

Off-screen

2008-10-09T09:03:00.000-07:00

Day 3.5 Cinema

I park my bike and walk into a queue.As usual I count the number of people standing in front of me. That was to check my probability of getting entry into a place where I forget everything;People,places and photographs..

*********

19 years back I was tightly clasping my Mother's hand when I walked into a similar place. I was scared of the darkness in that place. And then huge figures appeared on the giant white screen; deafening sound;people I've never seen in life.My Mother tried to make me understand what was going on. I remember I was still apprehensive. That was my first cinema.

**********

I buy the ticket and climb the stairs. There's a feeble sound of music playing from within the hall.5 more minutes before the lights goes off. I search my pockets for a matchbox. Yes,there's one. I light a match and try to explain to myself why I chose to buy that ticket. I fail. I find no reasons.

***********

I see the pages of calendars fluttering in my mind. A bit shaky. I can't recollect all the pages. But I do remember the time when I started to enjoy my visits to the theatre. The reason I reckon were the moving figures and some actors whom I had silently started adoring.Years went by. An era of Malayalam films.Then came the first Tamil film.Hollywood followed. One day our television breaks down.The screen becomes frequent.

************

The fire still's burning in my hand. I look around. A tad more than the usual number for this particular time. What reasons would they have to buy their tickets ? Their love for darkness ? Or just for the sake of getting lost in a different world?

*************

Cinema starts to take me away from my world. From myself. And then more cinema follows; from almost all parts of the world. Different languages, cultures, man killing man and man eating man, despair,hope,politics,history,pain,agony,revenge,trials and tribulations cruelty,death,life,tears and laughter,princes and autocrats,God and no-God,poverty,anarchy,love,lust,sex,longing....

I love cinema. It just takes me away;takes me away into a different world of myself, of my whims and fancies.A part of mine lives the cinema I watch. I laugh, I cry, I think,I learn. I learn that human beings across the landscapes are the same. Their songs are the same.Their losses are the same.They too sing and dance and fall in love and lose.They too fail and live. They too are scared; of losing and dying. I wait for the homecoming of my love to kiss her again and I also take 3 bullets on to my chest in an obscure jungle. I sow and reap in large swathes of earth and I rend and build edifices which stands tall. 2 hours later I walk back to light and yearn for more darkness..

**************

I walk into the hall and I'm directed to my seat.The lights goes off. A long beam shoots from a sqaure orifice from the far end of the hall and hits the screen. I wake up into a dream. Cinema....

Off-Screen

2008-10-08T13:11:00.000-07:00

Day 3 On Cinema delayed by Delhi blues.....

I was planning to write on cinema the way i understand it. But as words started coming out my phone rings with an unexpected call; which reminds me of my journey back to Delhi. And i realize that i miss that place. So I'm talking to the caller again. cinema will happen tomorrow.

Conversations with a Revolutionary.....

2008-10-07T12:12:00.000-07:00

Day 2 Revolution

The following post is an actual conversation which I had with a leftist man..Since we were chatting am posting the excerpts.In italics you'll find the man's statements and sometimes below them my doubts and disbelief in revolution.

This issue should be seen in the backdrop of the systematic and planned attack on the democratic and constitutional rights of the students by the university administration with the recent one being the Registrar's notification banning dharnas to the administration building. We beileve that this is a university and not any coaching center where you train the students in an incubator to do a specific task. This is a university wherein free flow of ideas, debates and discussions should take place in a healthy and democratic manner, for we believe university is the fountainhead of progress in a country. Not only the students but also the teaching and non-teaching staff of the university have the right to protest and voice their opinion. This is nothing short of strangulating us so that the 'authority' can be unquestioned and unrestrained in their conduct. We feel *** is fast becoming the new factory of the modern fascist elements aiming at controlling the very fabric of India's democracy: the debates, discussions and the discourses. It is an inevitable Holocaust in making, if we are not vigilant and vociferous about our rights being slowly eaten by the 'authority' who want to thrive in an unregulated environment. We have to protest and defend our non-negotiable rights.If university premises are not allowed to have intellectual pursuits are we supposed to have only Hum Aapke Hain Kaun!!

Me :so will it make any difference ??

only a nuclear winter can save the subaltern from the dominant class

Me:bull

u r one of t ignorant power beneficiaries of the society who lap up into the hands of the power holders n happily ignoring t millions who r struggling to run this country, it is very much our country as yours you urban donkey of the crazy idiotic democracy which has been subsumed by the political capitialism which has reduced humanity and people into ancedotes.

Me: its Anecdotes

what u want is the continuation of ur material interests n in t process forget t greatness of being born human u slimy bastard of the social circus!

Me:u wear a fuckin monkey cap which costs 800 bucks

puma sandals

nokia mobile

where's d fuckin human concern???

am sensitive n am sensitizing myself to t great inequalities which is cleavaging in our society

Me:inequalities will never cease to exist

throw away ur luxuries n set a path

am on my path b4 tat i wanna arm myself of enough ammunition to destroy this world cased in a glass case!

Me:buhahahahaha

u laugh n i will b t last person to throw earth on ur casket!

Me:i think u need a bath

i will take a bath in the pool of blood flowing from the severed hands of the servants of capitalists!

And thus I hope to see a revolution and a denouement. But what a world this internet is. I'm overwhelmed by the mere thought of witnessing a revolution in the ideological jungles of Hyderabad and suddenly I chance upon this picture on the internet.The denouement is changed. The characters change.Now there's a new design,a new leader, a new monologue, a new vision. All because of this one picture. A picture can do so much difference. Turned blood to water. Or maybe its not the picture. For avoiding the tediousness of searching the entire net for that picture I'm posting that as well.

Long live Revolution.

Gulmohar

2008-10-06T12:17:00.001-07:00

Day 1

I came back from Delhi to an unchanged Trivandrum. Not that I was away for a long time; but one always feel d tardiness of time when away from the homeland.I love the anonymity of Delhi and its infinite space.I love Delhi because she taught me to walk without destination,because she taught me to get lost and find my way back and she also taught me to be free.

Gulmohar is not about Delhi. It is also not about the excruciatingly poignant and beautiful Malayalam film which I must say I experienced a few hours back. Gulmohar is about the path I traversed in Trivandrum before getting acquainted with the Delhi metro. Gulmohar is my memory and my fading shadow.

Many days before... I'm riding my vehicle through a long stretch of smooth road in Trivandrum and all the way I can see the images of blooming Gulmohars reflecting on my windshield and endlessly receding away.Gulmohars all the way on both sides. Brick red umbrellas gently swaying in the wind. No rules,no order.They are swaying with the wind. And I etch my memories on the brick red petals. The memories of the road,of the wind,of the adjacent lake,of my journey.

Today I'm riding again the same path. But I don't find the Gulmohars; Only the dark brown empty tree trunks and branches.This is the wrong season.This is the season to shed, for the brightest red petals tomorrow.I smile at the vast emptiness on both my sides. I smile because I know that this is one path I would never forget and I also know that the Gulmohars would bloom again on both the sides.

Tomorrow I'll go again to see whether it is spring yet.If it is spring there would be red flowers everywhere. Swaying gently. Without rules,without order. And I shall find my bright red petal.My Gulmohar.

and the story continues......

2008-10-05T12:33:00.000-07:00

It's been a long time since I've penned down something on my blog. It was because of my laziness 99% and lack of time 1%. I'm wrapping up the last blog which ended on a rather uncertain note regarding my first leg of the journey.But to be frank about it there's no much suspense about it.After wandering around for some more time finally i managed to find a room and my journey continued.There was no plan, no destination. I just traveled it like life.

Anyways..

I've moved to Delhi now and these days i find very little time to blog. Now I'm back in trivandrum for a small break and one thing i've decided to do during my stay over here is that i'll blog everyday while i'm here. This is the first part. Will continue tomorrow.

In Search of a Temple and a few Flamingos........

2008-02-12T08:28:00.000-08:00

Prologue...

The leaves of acacia,dry and purple and fallen
Faded,with many a springs' dreams
looks back into a time of songs
sung by old wanderers and pilgrims.
And the northern wind takes them leaves,
into those places of unheard hymns
through the ancient muddy roads
of lost civilizations and decayed kingdoms
and rustic memories.
For,after the long flight of the leaves
there are new tales and sweeter songs
and a new spring.
Awaiting.....

Chapter-1

I got down at Vridhachalam. It was just barren land with occasional population and cultivation for many hours before I got down there.A small, crowd less, two-platform station.I walked out through the exit into a dusty ground to find an auto-rickshaw. Just about 10 minutes drive to the bus stand, and with the help of a man waiting for his bus, I spotted the bus which would then take me to my first destination. Chidambaram.

I had with me a knapsack, a camera and two books(about which I'm mentioning in the coming chapters). The bus was crowded and worse still it was playing an old tamil movie which was unbearable by any standard of patience. But the two sides of the road came as a surprising solace. Long swathes of paddy fields with intermittent shades of green and yellow. The young fields were dark green and the ripe ones, golden yellow,swayed gently in the wind.Thatched huts,small tea-shops,ponds,water-bodies with wild flowers completely enveloping them,trains of bullock-carts were the images on the way which still freshly lingers in my mind.

Long and narrow roads came in and went past for the next couple of hours. And then the bus entered into a dizzying crowd.Packed roads,high frequency sound,traffic lights,concrete buildings and all these typicalities of an unplanned town along with an English sign post made me conclude that I've reached Chidambaram. It was almost 8'o clock in the night. I walked to a nearby hotel and asked for a room and they smilingly replied that there are no vacant rooms.Without any anxiety i walked into another hotel.And then another 5 hotels. It was almost 10'o clock and i was still without a room in the completely unknown and soon-to-be-utter-black streets of Chidambaram.With a thorough outsider look i found myself very strange in that place and the staring glance of the people reinforced my belief. After some more time i had started to get those dubious and prolonged stares from some 'not-so-good-looking' locals.I was still without a place to stay and this time the first semblance of fear gushed into my nerves...

To be Contd...

Of an old college magazine and some memories....

2008-01-03T11:57:00.000-08:00

I flipped through the pages of my college magazine of which i was a member of the editorial board and some sepia images start to relive in my memory.We worked on this mag at the fag end of our college days when every day counted towards an inexorable question of existence after the end of days..It was difficult to move out of a place that was inextricably carved into my fabric in these many days of different seasons..

Today,as the leaves are falling yellow and crimson, i remember a day, many summers back,when the hues of bluish fog entered my life as a perpetual shade of non existence.I forgot to learn anything from this place as I was so happy living here.The winter continues till date.Only thing's its now i realize that its been a long winter.

I should have imagined the bluish fog many summers back but i failed to.Today the winter teaches me many lessons that i forgot to learn.I'm picking up a few hymns of yesteryear,of the irriguous acacia leaves and some leaves of fallen memories.The angels have blessed and the devils had their time as well and i failed to understand my brevity.But the winter teaches me everything like my mother taught me to count many years back and before the many tears i shed were still the shining crystals of my eyes.

Today's pain of solitude teaches me yesterday's bliss of togetherness;the tears which fell on to the brown dust of the ground today taught me the sharpness of my yesterday's laughter;the steep trenches into which i tripped showed me the hilltops i climbed and the dark shadows of loneliness that surrounds me today enliven the bright,gail faces of camaraderie; all of which died into the cold undercurrents of time.All of us lived in colors and with a palette..

I'm grateful to my magazine.It showed me the cold of the winter and it gave me a blanket of memories before the cold got going.I see the the snow clad plain mountains of nothingness and i remember the exuberant songs of a spring i lived many summers back and i see the spring coming through the cold mountains,for me, to live yet another life...

The Raging Sea

2007-11-05T22:30:00.000-08:00

Betwixt the shores of our existence lies a raging sea; my ego
Long after I came back watching 'Ore Kadal',the film still continue to haunt me. It's not because all my life I've lived in a very conservative society and the film uprooted the set social dogmas.On the contrary I don't think the film in any way dealt with dogmas.It just portrayed the human mind.Raw and complex.

There's a very enchanting part in the famous novel 'one hundred years of solitude' in which a dead man comes back to the person many years later, who killed him many years before, to escape from the solitude of life after death.Solitude is devastating,murderous and near-death.Many years of solitude can bring back the dead according to Marquez and hence, maybe or most definitely a lifetime of solitude can wreak havoc in the lives of mortals.After all we all are mortals.

The question that haunted me for many days after I saw the film was the way the female protagonist succumbed to the physical desire of the the womanizer social scientist.Was it because of love?? or the many years of solitude she had behind her which made her yearn for care which she thought would be transcended through physical intimacy.Or was it lust ?Or adventure?? or in more orthodox terms infidelity ??

Both the protagonists in the film lived in abject solitude,but in different contexts.The mundane family life,without even the scant presence of love since her childhood, with a not very well off middle class economics contributed to the solitude of the heroine though she had a husband and a kid, while the fear of being loved and to love made the hero to live in solitude though he had a social status and was widely accepted.

But still why did she not repel when she was touched by a half-stranger?love?awe for the hero's status or in a more cynical way,paying back her debt hoping for more help.I rule out the third possibility not only because it is cynical but also because she had the choice.She wasn't forced into promiscuity.But can i call that promiscuity ??

There's a man who tried to kill his love through alcohol,his self proclaimed ego and sex.In a way he was trying to kill his fear.His fear of being loved and his fear to fall in love.He killed his want and his need.But the seed continued to live somewhere in the darkness.Then there's the woman who wanted to discover love;to discover a life without solitude,without the excruciatingly painful loneliness penetrating deep into her heart day in and day out.Love changes men and women.Love changes relationships.Love is a want.A want of being loved and to love.

Thus when Deepthi tries to discover love in the most undefinable way,love unfolds before Dr.Nathan in the most strange path.He falls in love with the soul of the body he slept with, long after the act.Love penetrates into his solitude and he starts yearning for the freedom from solitude,a solitude that has been with him since his tenth year of life.While Deepthi deliberately shrinks into her own world of solitude through religious faith,mundane life and at the end trying to murder her love,she also attempts to live through the societal way of life.But love beckons,it storms into their lives like the wild hurricane in the sea,as a new revelation,a new life and an inexplicable freedom.

But still why did she not object when he compared her neck with a conch and touched her...??The love and unity of a man and woman is beyond all definitions,all relations and all conditioning,morals,values and dogmas.It is nature.It is the sea.Undefined and unchartered.Thy name love.

This doesn't answer everything or maybe anything at all.But sometimes its wonderful to live through the questions than trying to answer them......

again it rained.......

2007-10-18T22:55:00.000-07:00

Last night again it rained...Not the heavy rain that floods the flower-bed in my balcony.But the relentless long water droplets falling as straight lines.Dark sky. And I couldn't but keep watching it for quite some time until slumber took me over.I've always wondered about the rain like a million people who've written so poetically about the rain.But still there's a certain charm about it.The rain is always enchanting.

This was after a long time that I was noticing rain so closely.I had become quite mechanical over the last few months during my Hyderabad days.Not that it did not rain in the city of Nizam.It did and many times it did rain.Actually after my first week in the city it rained heavily and the local cigarette shop-wala acknowledged that it was after nine long years he's witnessing such a heavy rain.

I always see the rain through the window in my bed room.The sight is almost like statistical graph.The vertical long train of rain drops virtually intersecting the horizontal window grills.Too much of imagination.But i haven't seen the rain gently embracing the lush green paddy fields or making infinite ripples in the river the way i've read about it.I haven't seen the rain with all the beauty and charm the poets have attributed to it.But still rain is enchanting.

Sometimes it was difficult to see the sky in hyderabad.The tall concrete edifices shrouds the vision. Then the rain is like a curtain.I used to sit in the balcony of my apartment watching the balcony of the opposite apartment through the rain curtain hoping that the girl living over there would come out to see the rain.No!!..She wasn't beautiful.But the way i hoped she'd come out to see the rain I also hoped she'd look beautiful through the rain curtain.But neither happened.

I've seen the rain in many parts of the country.The quick heavy ones in bangalore and the 48 hour non stop rain in delhi.The rain that pours down sweet and yellow in the desert of jaisalmer and the rain that appears less dense than the population of mumbai when you're traveling in a mumbai local.The rain as a welcome change in the sweltering heat of chennai and the rain that's incredibly beautiful as the backdrop of puppet shows in gwalior.I've been lucky.

I've been lucky.So many people have written about the rain and it rains quite often.But still, when the rain came down from heaven yesterday night it was something which i had never seen.Enchanting and enigmatic as never before......

The Lost Rain

2007-04-09T13:45:00.000-07:00

It rained today, heavy rain

And i just could take some old logs

From the backyard

Where they lie waiting for my grandfather

Who would build ships with them.

And I just could take a small flame

From the matchbox

Which my dad always used

To make a bonfire from old newspapers.

And I just could hold her close to me

From all the places I never searched for her

Where she’d always go.

And I just could tell her stories

Of old princes and demons and lost springs

and pirates and treasures and mango showers.

The heavy rain…

And the old logs still lie there...

without memories n stories,drenched in the heavy rain.....

"The Freedom Thief"-Concluding Part

2006-12-20T09:47:00.000-08:00

As i was walking towards my destination (though i wasn't sure whether i'd reach there or not!!) , again some erratic images started coming to my mind randomly; those images which until a few hours before comprised the pieces of a jigsaw puzzle which i was forced to put together in order to survive; those images of conformity towards the dogmas that surronded me forming a vicious circle; those images which tried to extirpate the very meaning of freedom from my mind. And these images operated on a terror mechanism, the mechanism of fear. All i used to do at that point of time and all what others did operated on the same mechanism, a silent fear lurking behind each a nd every one of us; the fear that made each and every one of us perfect citizens, perfect devotees, perfect administrators and everythng that was perfect.

I went to a place of worship because of the fear of hell. I condoned the errors of the state because of the fear of jail. I did not fall in love with a girl of another religion because of the fear of being thrown out as an outsider. I beahved in those umpteen no of ways in which people were supposed to behave because i feared the consequences that might otherwise storm upon me. And my slavery came exactly from this and my nonchalant,unreflective days. The fear of not doing what others wanted me to do....

I was trying to define freedom.Was it the freedom of land??or the freedom to think?is it the freedom to do what u want or live the way u want to live?is it the freedom from desires and ambitions?? And then i saw the sky brightened by the light of those luminous free souls who walked before me to the freedom tree and they silently whispered-"freedom is to be free from fear;freedom is to conquer fear; freedom is to kill fear"..laconic but yet so profound. And before my eyes were the beautiful frames of deep happiness and contend of my forefathers when they discovered limitless freedom that was beyond any demarcations.

I saw the deep pain which Eve endured before giving birth to Cain and the unexplainable happiness when she for the first time saw his tightly clasped fingers; I saw the great agony and unparallelled faith of Abraham when he was asked to sacrifice his only son and I also saw the profound gratitude and joy when he found a substitute lamb in the shrubs; I saw the fear in the eyes of Moses when he was asked to command and guide the men of Yahweh to the promised land and I also saw his glowing face when he saw Israel from mount Aabu; I saw Daniel conquering his fear and entering into the fire with a smile so innocent; I saw Jonah defeating his fear inside the stomach of the blue whale and I also saw him rising up with a new zest and new vision. And I saw the warrior Arjuna afraid and apprehensive before the great war and Krishna talking to him; and I also saw the smile on Krishna's face when he asked the more confused Arjuna to renounce everything and reach unto him. I saw Freedom..

I had reached the freedom tree..Without a second thought I climbed the tree briskly and stretched my hand towards a ripe freedom fruit. This time I saw the sadness in the eyes of Adam when he was banished from the paradise for ever and I also saw the blessed paradise he entered when he for the first time saw the rains, when he for the first time tilled, sowed and harvested, when he for the first time kissed his wife and felt her warmth beside him. I saw the eternal paradise...Life...

Without hesitation I plucked the freedom fruit and started to eat and somewhere near the horizon I heard people violently yelling out.."Freedom Thief..."

"The Freedom Thief"

2006-10-15T05:24:00.000-07:00

I used to live in a place where almost everyone at that point of time lived and are still living and i must say that nothing much has changed in the world from the 'that point of time' to the present when i am standing in the shade of this tree.I dont kno whether its the cool shade of the tree spread over a large diameter or the fuits on it that is making me reflect on my life.Everything was quite normal. Happy people were happy and sad people were sad.All of them drank,ate,did some jobs,slept and so did I,and I belonged to the 'supposedly' happy league. I had and still have a job,an apartment,friends,the same newspapers thet everyone used to read,the 76 soporific channels and everything that'd make a banal and innocuous life perfect.I was connected..but quite unfortunately,only with the world and not with the people around.

I dont kno about the catlyst that triggered this eerie feeling inside me. Some vast emptiness;a deep melancholy;though everything appeared to be in order something was missing..Perhaps an idea,a notion..I lacked a purpose,a reason.There was effect but i never could understand why the same cause always; and as a loyal fan of the 'matrix' i thot whether it ws the white rabbit..I knew It wasn't but it was gud to imagine myself as Neo trapped in an imaginary world of illusions..!!
Jokes apart this was getting serious. There was something sulky about the whole system. I ws tied down with my job,social setup,religion,parties,ideology and vrythng. I believed and still believe in God and I was unable to find a reason for all this.There was a routine i was supposed to stick to and if i violated it I'd become an outsider.There were dogmas all around prescribed by the society,the religion,the system and if i negated them i'd be isolated and stoned with moral actions and rebuked as an outsider.And strangely i realized;i dint kno what freedom was............

Today when i am standing in the shade of this tree,i really dont remember whether It ws somebody whol told me about this tree or if i had a dream about it.I came to know about this tree in the outskirts of the deceptive city where i was living.I heard that this is a very strange tree and only one of its kind existed in the whole world.I also heard that this tree'd bear a fruit called the "freedom fruit" and no one was supposed to pluck it or eat it and whoever did so would be banished from the city..I heard this and there was this image of a story i learned in my catechism class that came to my mind;of Adam and Eve getting banished from Eden for eating the forbidden fruit of wisdom bcoz of which they lost eternal happiness and immortality and had to come down to earth and had to suffer and die..

This time i dint thik;I knew and I was pretty sure..How'd they kno what happiness is if they dint xperience suffering, how'd they kno how it feels to laugh if they haven't cried,how'd the kno wut forgiveness is,wut hope is,wut belief is if they were to be in an eternal state of static equlibrium inside Eden.How'd they kno wut life is if they dint see death;how'd they kno what peace is, tranquility is,belief is,victory is,joy is and how'd they kno what love is.Life at Eden cannot be happy coz noone'd ever find out what happiness is.!! I knew God did a wise thing by sending them to earth.It was their greatest gift, the biggest blessing...Life..,to live and die,to hope and pray,to believe and love,to understand the meaning of life through everything...There was no looking back..I had decided..

... And thus i started my joureny towards the Freedom Tree..

to be continued
eric

cogito ergo sum

2006-09-15T12:07:00.000-07:00

I never thought I’d make this. I mean for the past 1 year I was in the process of blogging which literally accounted as a ‘virtual’ activity. The blog never materialized. I churned out so many topics in my mind; philosophy, politics, music, religion and so on. But never would I come up with something that I was confident of putting up on a platform where a million people are posting a billion articles everyday. Some time back (a few weeks to be precise) I realized that there was something that was pulling me back from writing or rather posting on a public board. There was some kind of inertia that’d always push me through the first few lines of something and then take my hands completely off from the keyboard and firmly grip it on the mouse. I’d always end up browsing through the same pages of some friends’ portal or simply google around for the weirdest stuff possible.

I badly wanted to find out why the hell ? and slowly I realized that there was a fear. A silent apprehension that whispered into my ears that people are going to read these and what if they find it boring, jaded, rhetorical and all those adverbs that’d classify my lines as unreadable. Defining the fear that lurked through was the most difficult task and a greek story from the beginning of the civilization told me that fear can be killed only by doing what I fear.

And hence here I am. This is not supposed to be a writing of verbal dexterity that’d take the readers to higher realms of literary delight. I no longer care what others think of this. I don’t even give a damn whether people read this or not. I am just extirpating my fear..

The mirror’s broke, the shadows are escaping, the facades have cracked and I am no longer afraid. I think, I exist and I am.

cogito ergo sum
eric..