Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hope. Show all posts

Saturday, November 21, 2015

The Chair At Nescafe



On many a wintry sunday morning, I found myself in the chair by the “nescafe”.
From the chair, I saw the morning, and through the morning the world.
The wide open field lay before me, bound by a canopy of woods.
A lone old tree in the heart of the field, reaching to the sky with its leafless branches.
The field was life, the realm of possibilities.
Our lives are bound by the woods of certainty, yet some have crossed to see
the exciting world beyond.
And the lone tree is the spirit you need, to rage against the dying of the light
even when the leaves of youth drift away from your body,
Strive to touch the sky, let nothing hold you back and live a life less ordinary..!

Thursday, May 23, 2013

Of Sea and Skies





Sometimes, when the days are long and the evenings hold no promise, I go to the Calicut beach, by myself. I find a place to perch near the sands, and inhale the fresh scent of salty winds. The Arabian Sea is a sight to behold, a timeless beauty, not covered by burkhas, untainted by the strings of tradition. She lashes out at the world when she wants; she makes herself heard through the sound of her waves, and often embraces, rather shamelessly, the many lovers of her life, all at the same time. As much as a beauty she is, the greater mystery is the sea of people all around her. Every evening thousands crowd around the evening beach, and there is no greater joy to a thinking man, than the sights of a hundred strange faces around him, each differing in every conceivable aspect of the human anatomy, yet united in their emotions of joy. The seaside does that to people- for centuries, port towns have been the centers of civilizations, the cradle of thought and ideas, the harbinger of changes, be it for better or worse.


I walk along the side of the sea, one among the thousand, taking in every sight and sound that the beach has to offer. My eyes drift, from a group of beautiful women, to the haggard willow trees. They have been around for as long as I remember, offering firm resistance to the winds of change that the ocean brings, and have survived for the most part. Among the branches of these trees lie several kites. Many of these kites must have aspired to be among the highest fliers, kissing the face of the sky, rubbing shoulders with the hawks that rule the beach skies. Yet here they all are, held in a mass of leaves, a remnant of past convictions, a testimony to someone else’s moment of indecision, or indiscretion.

There used to be a bridge here,once. A bridge that went all the way to the sea, to help the ancient seafarers with their invaluable cargos and tall tales. All that remains are a few of the pillars, and even they are slowly losing their heroic yet impossible battle with the waters of the Arabian Sea. Standing in front of these pillars, I feel the pain of these stone warriors, who are fading away,little by little,day by day..

And then I notice the hawks that circle above. They watch us all with disdain, as we go an about our mundane lives while they ride the sky, the majestic princes of the beach. A particular white headed brahminy hawk catches my eye, as it flies higher and higher, further from the madding crowd. Eventually, it is just a spot on the distant horizon, and soon, it goes beyond what my mortal eyes may follow.

I am at the threshold of a crossroad, these days. Will I be a kite in the willow branches, or a stone pillar lamenting the bygone days? Or will I rise to be a hawk, unflinching at the heights I scale everyday? Time will tell, and I'm leaving it to that masterful storyteller to complete this tale..

Wednesday, June 2, 2010

The impossibility of hope: part 1




The beach of Calicut is a timeless beauty, offering solace to the thousands of souls who seek its company every evening- lovers who want some moments in the salty breeze just to themselves, families who wish to escape the monotonical notes of the week that was by, grand old men reminiscing their more colourful days-she enthralls them all without any prejudice, any haughtiness. One among the thousands that day was Mr. Bhagyesh Dev. Lets call him Baggy, for that’s what he was known in his young years in college.

“Ah,college…”..Looking back, it seemed unreal, like vignettes from a stranger’s album, a glimpse into a life that will never return . He did not know it back then, but his college life would be the happiest periods in his life. Ever since he arrived there as a wide eyed first year, he gained much. The friendship of Rashid Umar a.k.a Razzie, the sworn enemy-hood of the thugs in the final year, and at the expense of a little spilt blood and some well planned coincidences, the love of his life, Rekha kamath. Then one fine day college was done, its gates closed to them forever, and the boys realized they were men now, men on the road. Without a job in hand, but with more than the usual foolhardiness that youth tends to inject to the brains of men, he bid adieu to his parents and married Rekha.

The flashback was cut short,as he felt the waves kissing his feet He watched the white waters from the shore retreat back, into the blue and in the distance the blue of the ocean met the sky. He had made his decision and nothing under the sun could persuade him to change it. He began his walk to oblivion, in to the dark depths of the ocean. The first step was the most difficult to take, and the rest came easy. The rhythm of the water matched the rhythm of his footsteps, and to his forlorn ears they were music- plaintive, poignant yet exquisite, for he was sure these would be the last notes that he would hear in this life. As the salty waters began lashing at his chest, it started to throb, however from within. Once again his thoughts drifted wantonly to his past.

The marriage was difficult from day one and the lack of blessings of mammon made matters all the more difficult. Then like a playful mid afternoon dream, Razzie popped out of nowhere, with money in his hands and ideas to die for. Together they started a business, which would “one day conquer the world”, according to Razzie. Once again there were smiles as our protagonist, Rekha and Razzie enjoyed many a day with old jokes, wisecracks and optimism about the future, some of those sunsets on this very shore. Rekha soon got a job, with some strings pulled at the right places and the uncertainties in their investments seemed somewhat mild.

Somewhere along the way, the journey started to become confusing and treacherous. Razzie would disappear on business trips to improve the worsening financial status of their brainchild and sometimes when he needed his wife’s support the most, more often than not, she would be supposedly lost in the quagmires of her job. Baggy was a little slow to put the pieces of the puzzle together, but when he did, no mistakes were made. His wife was cheating on him with his only friend. In a flurry of rage, he set out to confront them, only to learn that they had left a day earlier with whatever was left of his life’s savings.

The waves started caressing his face as he realized the end was near. With a few more steps, there would be no more sand under his feet and the steep incline underneath would ensure that his bones would rest in the sea bed. In the two thousand strong crowds that Friday evenings bring, not many would notice a man disappear in the sea, and certainly no one would be in time to rescue his damned soul. The evening sun was at its dying glory, filling the evening with a crimson radiance, as it sank slowly under the horizon. Bhagyesh Dev was nearly neck deep in the water and occasionally the waves would dance over his head, giving him a sad farewell. At that moment he looked back, not into his life, but at the shore behind, and what he saw changed his life, or what was left of it.

<..to be continued..>

Click here for Part two- http://ofblackandgrey.blogspot.mx/2010/06/impossibility-of-hope-part-2.html