Sunday, August 1, 2010

Blissful Ignorance

Ignorance is truly bliss,
It is like summer's sweetest kiss.
After a harsh and tearing cold,
A release from winter's vice like hold.

And as the flower of ignorance blooms,
It brings with it no knowledge of our doom.
The misery of knowing what is to come,
Greater misery of knowing not what to be done.

Awareness is like the melancholy bird who sings on trees,
Who cannot but acknowledge what she sees.
She knows all that is to come and all that is around her,
She has no escape from the world that surrounds her.

Ignorance is truly bliss,
It is like summer's sweetest kiss.

Being an Indian

Two weeks before the 63rd Independence Day, I wanted to air my views about being an Indian, and what better way than this.


Being an Indian, I have found, always separates you from the rest, people can never choose whether to look at you with pity, for the ‘bad’ conditions of life you have in the country, or with awe, for having managed to come so far despite them.
This determination to succeed is what separates us from everyone else, because we can never be disheartened, we’ve been to the bottom of the well, and seen that it’s actually not as bad as the stuff nightmares are made of, so failure is a known commodity, and we are resolute not to go back. But while some of us are singing ‘Ye mera India, I love my India’ there are others who are busy making India into a place not even worth loving.


Being a history buff myself, people always expect me to break into praise about the heritage of India, and running true to type, here it is…I have just come back from Orcha and the Palace there is absolutely beautiful, as far as dilapidated old castles ruined thanks to the State Archaeology Department, go. There still remain frescos, or wall paintings from 500 years ago, and some, untouched by water, look as if they were painted yesterday, but just as one starts to lose oneself in the splendour of the rich past, and imagine oneself the ruler of the fort, we are brought rudely back to earth by the graffiti on the wall, ruining the fresco and declaring to all those present that Rohit does indeed love Champa. There are dates and names carved all over the monuments, utterly destroying the grandeur of the Diwan-e-Aam or the Diwan-e-Khas with proclamations not by the king but on the wall by someone called Chintu.
The United States of America have not much more to their past than a measly Statue of Liberty, but they guard it as if it were the Kohinoor, which also, I bet someone would have stolen had it still been in India. And we Indians, always ready to curse all things White for their colonialism and neo colonialism, can not even visit a monument without throwing our empty chips packs in it.
We have been brought up on tales of Akbar and Birbal but on visiting Fatehpur Sikri, we don’t even have the common respect to keep it clean. It is our past and how we managed to achieve something despite obstacles that makes us so different, a one billion plus country to reckon with, but it seems that nobody really believes in this anymore as every monument you look at holds more evidence of Seema, and Rani and Pinky and Sudhir having been there rather than the kings and queens who actually built it.


Leave alone the graffiti and the garbage in monuments; it seems we cannot even go by an empty road without unloading all our trash there. Most of the roads I have seen are surrounded on both sides by left over means, and plastic bags, and other sordid reminders of how good we truly are at having double standards, singing ‘Ye mera India’ on one side and casually dropping a banana peel on the other. The government can no longer be used as a target for blame, as the people in it have a country to run, and do so in the fond (if misplaced) hope that we Indians can be trusted to at least pick up our garbage ourselves.
This is not the previous generation, content with doing nothing more than pointing fingers, this is generation now, and we are the ones who need to make a difference rather than sit and wait for a miracle.


At the turn of the new century, in a world where India is once again doing well, and getting ready to do better, it is our duty as citizens to respect all that symbolizes India’s glorious past, and do our bit, in paving way for a better India, where one billion people don’t mean unlimited trash on roads and in monuments, but rather, mean a billion strong community ready to lead India forward.


So let’s take up the chorus once again ‘Ye mera India, I love my India…’

New Directions

So, here I am. Giving vent to my creativity, hopefully.
Let's see how this works out.
I am currently obsessed with a show called Glee on StarWorld, which explains the title I have used for this blog, it really is a wonderful show.
(There, free publicity for Glee, assuming, of course, that someone is going to read this.)
Anyway, cheers.