Friday, 20 February 2015

“Battle with Tazabzub-/Uncertainties”


“Battle with Tazabzub-/Uncertainties”

Part- I


Ba’zamir was 14 years old when he   encountered a vagabond like youth who was puffing a cannabis loaded cigarette in their very own playfield, and when he inquired about him from his friends, he was told that this person is a nuisance and must be stopped from indulging in such a sinful act, especially in our community, as this will create a bad impression while others suggested that can commit this very act in his own locality- in other words the problem was not in that person doing a bad act rather it was why he has chosen our playground to do this destructive thing. Interestingly we were hesitant and a little bit afraid to go near the person out of the curiosity about the reaction of that person who seemed to be oblivious of our deliberations. Ba’zamir took a leap driven by the inner narcissism of the child and the inborn half-braveness in him. He approached that person and asked him in a stern tone “why are you taking cannabis” and the person calmly replied in a condescending yet polite manner that “have you ever been in love” upon listening to the word Love, an image of a damsel sitting besides a cloudy hill came to Ba’zamir’s mind and he quickly replied “No” and the person with a sudden surge of confidence in his tone said“then you won’t be able to understand the‘why.’ and moved away from Ba’zamir’s Playfield. Ba’zamir kept looking at him till he disappeared from his sight. The words of that delinquent you may say intrigued Ba’zamir in a way that he felt a curiosity about what kind of a phenomenon is this love? Which can make a person degrade himself and commit such sinful acts which not only deteriorate and defame a person but his fellow beings also and render him helpless? He began to think of love as a strange and distant phenomenon and a feeling of dread towards it.

Time passed as it does like the wax of the candle melting down which at first sight seems so huge to last for the whole night but as the wick commences burning in the silent and soundless dark night, it seems that this candle was not huge enough. During these years Ba’zamir began to enquire about love from persons he regarded as knowledgeable which included a religious teacher, a friend and an elder person who used to teach English in a private school. And the answers he got were varied, deep and childish at the same time, which bewildered Ba’zamir rather than satisfying him. He couldn’t find coherence between the meanings and most importantly which meanings he needs to put into practice. 

“You have got no authority over love and though it may sound like a banality that ‘love happens’ but the fact is that it is true and when love finds you, you’ll be helpless as a man who’s being lead by some phantom dragging you towards the pleasure and suffering at the same time. You’ll be accustomed to that elixir which every youth yearns for and which is not bestowed upon everyone, which enhances your quest with every sip you take of it.”

Ba’zamir began to think of love as a mysterious creature but in order to suppress the curiosity and fear he began to think that ‘what is the difference when it befalls on everyone, what makes me different let it come and do its course, I won’t be pursuing anyone and I am not affected by these jargons. The second interpretation of love which he came to know while on an academic journey to a valley which was characterized by children leading their herds of sheep to fields for grazing, the clouds as if playing hide and seek and the damsels clad in their traditional attire preoccupied with their daily chores. He met a teacher who had chosen to teach in this far flung and beautiful area and as the discussion started from education to writers to favorites, Ba’zamir asked about love and the answer was simple and intriguing at the same time. “Love is not to be understood, it is to be felt at some point of time and the more you keep away from it the more will it persist. We are too feeble to understand it, and you should consider yourself fortunate enough if at all you’ll be granted a chance to feel it anytime.”

 “He must be bitten hard by this devil” shrugged Ba’zamir as he was partly disturbed by his reply and who knows that his sudden expression of the teacher being bitten hard was a defense mechanism or maybe a truth, but what matters for us is the pain and disturbance. One thing the teacher mentioned in the end was an advice for Ba’zamir to read some Lebanese poet for more understanding and interpretations. our Ba’zamir underwent through listening to these, and especially the last interpretation from a Religious person that “Love is Love only and it should be called love only when it is absolute, eternal, obsessive and committed and that love is only among the creator and the creation and though words are many but they won’t suffice, therefore in order to commence the already commenced journey to reach the zeniths of love, you must fulfill the commitments-which is the only way to know, realize and feel the pleasure and essence of love.” Said the Religious man. Ba’zamir although wanted to pursue this path of love but was somehow afraid and hesitant for will he be able to fulfill the commitments and reciprocate the obsessiveness and also the fear of losing other things in the course of pursuing this way.

After a few more years Ba’zamir got admission in an institute  and though there were a lot of subjects to which he may have been inclined, he got acquainted with one who was as intelligent and brave as Ba’zamir himself or may be more than him but it can’t be known as the answers of so many questions, so it is better to keep it at bay and concentrate on Ba’zamir’s encounter with this conspicuously intelligent being. He began to talk at length with that phenomenal girl with green eyes and a husky voice. As the time passed he began to feel something - after a few days of meeting her he had started to read that Lebanese Poet extensively partly because of the inner curiosity and partly to impress his new ‘friend’   ‘let us suffice for this misnomer for the time-being.”- and that feeling was enhanced by the curious looks and gossips about their friendship, he was reminded of the sermon of that religious man and he decided to stay back and surprisingly he succeeded probably because of the help provided by the green eyed creature who was humble enough to fulfil his wish and now their relationship turned in to a strange estrangement characterised by mixed feelings of respect, resentment, care and anger. 

Ba’zamir was sinking day by day but he was also happy as he thought that he has defeated the demon however, in the institute itself he met a girl who happened to help him with some kind of an academic stuff without him insisting for the same. She was a soft spoken, fair textured girl 'yes girl' with a lot of care in her voice. She made Ba’zamir feel in trance where he was happy, poetry began to occur to him, however when the time came for that girl to leave,  Ba’zamir was again reminded of the saying of his friend and he decided to use the occasion to keep himself away from the source of the feeling called love denied until now. Surprisingly though he succeeded again but here again it would not have been possible without the contribution of that 'pale skinned' girl. And now their relationship again turned into a strange thing characterised by humour, formal jargons, courtesies and a bond of mere past experience with each other.

Now Ba’zamir was sure that he will never come under the spell of that shroud called love and that he will try to enjoy his loneliness and self proclaimed freedom and he was enjoying  seemingly so as he had surrounded himself with the scent of books accompanying solitude and rendering his heart to that intense placebo but nonetheless the hope – of someone infusing soul into that placebo - never died. And it was with this hope and anxiousness the days passed and nights came.

Then it was in the spring of his life that a damsel clad in yellow and white so triggered his emotions that he began to weaken in the resolve he had shown in his first encounter. It was like the feeling ‘I know her from somewhere’ Then the hands of destiny began the journey accompanied with mysterious meetings and conversations and there were trifles and trials all embedded with sweetness and delicious torments. The more he got to converse, the more he got to see the dazzling beauty, the more was he acquainted with the irresistible, peculiar yet common gestures, the more he was accustomed with the intoxicating voice, the more he was accustomed to the pet words wrapped in innocence and affection, the more he got convinced of his bondage into the beautiful and glimmering shackles of beauty and affection.

Never had he imagined that he will be able to name the feelings he had and the recalcitrant feelings which were always on an accelerating mode and never was there a period when they appeared to die down.

He used to say, “there should have been some other name for the things which are there in my heart for the amount of worry, compassion, affection, anxiety, and love I have in my heart.” As there was yet the dread involved with that word i.e., Love.

As Ba’zamir climbed the mountain of feelings he experienced periods of extreme happiness and sadness as well, whenever a thought occurred to him that he had hurt his beloved. And then not by chance but with a calculated amount of feelings he began to think that, ‘this is it, this should be the pinnacle of my love, and she is the one who can only saturate me in this entire world.” Ba' amir never wanted to express the obvious however with the pressure and reaffirmation from his peers he was ready to say the obvious and mundane words as only the literal things needed to be done as except that his every gesture, every word, every feeling, every deed, every thought, his fidgeting, his happiness and his being indicated “he was in love with this girl”

He always thought why to get an answer when love is never a question but the convention goes that you have to get an answer and the answer he got was the most intriguing and silly in his entire lifetime, he was being told that ‘he can roam freely in the gardens, in fact he can sit under the shade of trees to relieve himself from the cruel sunlight but he can never be the gardener himself rather he could be only a well-served guest.”

Ba’zamir decided to leave the garden at the first place and now his feelings had been rendered stagnant and he was being left at the mercy of seeking advices with no thinking power of his own. Baffled and confused he stood and he wondered time and again though his brain was in a morbid condition “who are you (his beloved) after all other than a fellow creature like millions out there with some features above than a minority of them, but what is it with you that I always get dragged towards you, is it your strength or my weakness, is it that I can’t find anyone else or your aura doesn’t let me. What is with you that the mesmerizing beauties out there don’t trickle beyond my eyes into my heart; What is with you that I feel saturated without you even knowing it; What is it with you that your clich├ęd gestures are equal to all the bounties for me; Don’t you realize how much I adore you; After all what are you waiting for; what are you seeking by the way; Why don’t you make me understand? And he began to console himself by writing these things, with no obvious sense, or they did make sense which only he could comprehend.

After some time passed Ba’zamir saw that ‘Husky voiced girl ‘in his dream while someone (her pal) telling him that you didn’t realize her importance when you had to and now what you’ve come to do.”  he woke up and his heart had turned into a lump of ache, he felt choked, he cried and when he opened his eyed he was feeling thirsty.”

Yesterday I heard that Ba’zamir was found in that mountainous valley behind a school building asking about that teacher with a cigarette in his hand.”

Monday, 22 April 2013

Distance


Sometimes it seems that the distance to peace is equal to the distance between your heart and mind;

Perhaps it’s the reason of you being oscillating from one side of the equilibrium to the other;
From restraint to recklessness, from tranquility to solemnity, from soliloquization to introspection, from intoxication to soberness and from routine to life;

It appears laborious to traverse the distance and surrender oneself to calmness while you know: there is no other way;

Indeed it is laborious; it is tiresome and pregnant with tenacity and fight;

It was destined to be so;

Its’ strange as the person who loves you the most was bestowed with the greater pain by you to realize your own existence;

Oftentimes we fall in awe and fail to know the same labour which the nature is inflicted with to soothe your senses;

Well it is only the difference to traverse the distance and sieve peace through suffering;
And to be particular there is no such distance as the epicenter of peace lies in the same heart which has been rightly called the ‘battlefield’.

Thursday, 6 December 2012

Waswas!


I have authored so many books, I’ve given so many inspiring lectures, I’ve been a major player in achieving freedom from the oppressor, and I’ve even fulfilled the wishes of my parents but never I have been able to see what happened after I achieved these feats and sometimes when I am aloof from those busy minds, when I get time to ponder over the unfinished conversations with them I tend to think irrespective of my resistance-which was never strong to resist compassion - I  think and I am instantly immersed in a reverie accompanied with beautiful things and everytime I get stuck and couldn’t see beyond that darkened wall. It seems to  prevent me from witnessing the other side and I fail to find an answer and then I solace myself that perhaps it is in order for me to understand that I would never be able to achieve these Feats or I haven’t done enough even to be worthy of fantasizing about what lies beyond!

Tuesday, 28 August 2012

You make me truthful!

Dear Beloved,

Here I stand submerged in the blackness 
of the night waiting for the morn 

As if a red rose is awaiting for the rays to   fall on it only to make its ‘naked beauty’ wrapped in dew drops visible to the human eye”

Your effect is fading with the slowness of the darkness.
It is like an intoxicated person coming to sobriety, 

The only difference is the awareness!

And the unawareness of the recurrence of this prolonged colored darkness.
Though the feeling can’t be figured out clearly at the moment but there is a weariness and independence – soon to be realized.


The remembrances are concealed by the opaque veil or perhaps they have come to know of their unworthiness to be remembered.


It is strange but there is no anxiousness, no remorse, and no regret but there is a satirical myriad of thoughts constantly brewing and continuing to emanate as if all this was done knowing the fate of this virtual so called sojourn.


If you are pointing out to the symptoms which somehow happen to arise then don’t be judgmental as these are the ones of care and worry shown once as after all I am a lesser mortal like you all there and forgive me for my flaws for there are manifold.”


The memory has not yet entirely vanished but  it now comes as an infliction and like concrete bars are piercing my head only to put me asleep perhaps acting in a way as 
if making it easy for me to abhor them.”



Thursday, 9 August 2012

Random!


What kind of drudgery is it? To keep yourself preoccupied with someone without letting the person know! Isn't it unfair... Isn’t silliness! An ailment.

Howcome someone hover over your being.. Divide your senses... And howcome someone Confine your imagination upto the same person’s likes, dislikes, worries, wishes, hopes and plans.

Howcome someone's voice be an elixir and silence and venom at the same time.

Howcome someone be so big to render all your dreams into minuscule atoms only to be seen by you!

After all what does one wish for other than the place in that other person's heart, the realization of the amount of care, affection, worry, compassion, and anxiousness one feels about the same person.

How painful is it to know about that other person's unknowing about what you believe with all your heart that it is in the knowledge of the other person.



Tuesday, 24 April 2012


Response!   



Response!   


The Mute trunk with all its awareness and knowledge of the injustice, suppression and chaos created by the so called ‘peacekeepers’, still has something to cheer up for its’ doing all it can and doing it well. Moreover, what isn't in its purview for it stands like a standalone creature enjoying its own Grandeur - frequently made known to it when a bird from a different world – a world where emotions are understood without expressing them, rest on its lofty branches - neighboring clouds to take a stock of the conditions below only to be disappointed by the noise and futile preoccupations around; and contended with its river of humility whose waves are set in motion when its roots are trampled by a weak mortal.

It stands witness since ages with no dilution, with no burden to express the same, with vivid visions and details of nightmares and dreams forgotten everytime one is awake. It expresses rather everything in its own way and moulds itself in color often made visible by the highhandedness of the oppressor and with a color of sublimity depicted by the suppression of the oppressed. It becomes deserted like being left alone when your companion is snatched – It presents an epitome of empathy without boasting of doing any favor to its fellow distinct beings.

The strength may appear to be its weakness rather as it doesn’t know what to do with its vast amount of knowledge imbibed through the suffocating air and dark light and if at all it knew it can’t do anything to change the course of this mis(administration) interim though.

BUT it isn’t true as it is detached from its weakness by a greater weakness of ours for again, if we would have only been aware of our weaknesses. But Alas!

It is a terrible drudgery to pursue what is not destined for us, what we are not worth of and what we attain and get swelled by the pride of attaining the same thing though only a mirage, which when known leaves us, desolated with nothing but pain to writhe in its waves.

I was too preoccupied with the young minds inebriated by things - which no matter what, at the end of the day will translate or reincarnate  themselves into words like lust, power, and material well-being though entrapped in the disguise of freedom and development – always whirling and left with nothing other than ‘doubt’ of being ‘right’ or wrong, ‘good’ or bad, honest or a fool,  ‘wise’  or ‘boring’, ‘reasonable’ or ‘diplomatic’ pious or pedantic, social or opportunistic and suppressed or  spineless.  

I fails to forget the streams, those mountains and the greenery which soothes our eyes and intoxicates a person with the physical recalcitrant appeal but at the same time the same streams - streams of ominous liquid of souls irrespective of their age, gender and region; and the streams of saline water shed on their loss, the mountains of grief, separation, loneliness, betrayal and failure hidden under the clouds of virtual goals, objectives, illusions and hallucinations of the virtual world. The greenery accompanied with daffodils which exhibit a serene view to the melancholic tombs of those who were deleted by the erasers, sharp enough to go through their hearts and make them forgotten and render their significant others insignificant, ensuring to  arrange for your rendezvous with yourself and make you smile a mysterious smile. A smile comprised of the ‘eternal debt and sacrifices above appraisal’ though their smiles were made static and their dear ones' (smiles) vanish at the same time. They have been pushed into subconscious perhaps unconscious waiting for that irresistible thunderous shrill enough to awaken it from the depths of our slumber.

It is with these and many other traits which one hesitates to draw out of my shame and humiliation and surrenders oneself to that ultimate strength of the ‘Mute Trunk’ and resort to not what one is capable of doing but what one feels easier out of the same weakness.

That is to put one’s sadness, dilemmas, doubts, fears, fights, apprehensions and beliefs onto paper in an endeavor to look at these and always put one’s contentment into question!!!!!!!!

 (…………..Still)