What is it with some songs and the effect they have on us. Im stuck on one particular one right now, its from the second Aladdin movie, Return Of Jafar. The song is called Forget About Love... go figure! Over the last say, 3 days i think iv heard it over a couple of dozen times... yes, a couple of dozen!! And here i go again putting it on my itunes single repeat mode!! Im going between singing Jasmine, Aladdin and Iago's parts... all that at the moment seem equally relevant to me... which is funny cause the Iago is saying exactly the opposite of the other two... but then again... thats what love does to you right...! Im used to singing Aladdin's part alone, as my ex used to sing Jasmine's part... this is of course where the problem lies i suppose... the absence of another singing voice... both metaphorically and literally speaking... as for Iago... ummm... I'v never sung any songs that he was in... till now i guess!!

Why do i do it? im wondering about that myself... if one were to see me do it... well, lets just say.. its quite a show... especially when im trying to be two characters at the same time... sometimes i just cant decide see...! Anyway, i get all into it and dance around (when the space permits)... make all the right expressions and sing better than usual, as most do when there is no one really watching... then of course, an hour ago i got caught doing a sober version of this in a rickshaw... yeah yeah, i got carried away okay...!

Here is what im thinking, sometimes its cause your hearing what you really want to but no one will tell you cause its not going to happen for you... i know that one sucks big time... if its not this one your on another stage, it'l be because your hearing something you want to say to that person (a lot of times this stage has painful, angry and even hateful music) or of course, when u dont have the courage to say how you feel and thats why... (ps. if its the last one, sing it to her/him... always works!! :-P ).

anyway, the point of all of this... im reminding myself why I love music so much and why its so important to me... it really does help a lot of the healing and growing that we think we have to do alone...!

(CHECK OUT THE VIDEO OF THE SONG...!!! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WMrbT4Ycv1A&feature=related )

The patriot, not me...

A couple of months ago a close friend asked me if I was a patriot. The answer was an instant and definite no! The conversation fizzled out eventually though leaving me with a lingering thought of why this word did not apply to me. I care deeply for my country, I am committed to making it into a country that I can love and be proud of. I feel that the responsibility of making it reach its potential is every individual’s and mine and that running away and settling abroad for a better pay (what they call the brain drain) is being escapist!

Unfortunately, I have come to think of the word patriot as akin to extremist. This I blame on the connotations the world around me have attached to it. Patriots are those who beat up a fellow Indian because they have an opinion that breaks away from the norms of our society or what Hindus call themselves when trying to purge those who believe in another or no god. Patriotism to me is intolerance.

On the other hand I have to say that in the last year I have realised that many of my friends and acquaintances, most of whom are still finishing their education, seem to agree with my views on India and are almost as committed as me to making India a place they want to live in. This change of heart and sudden absence of the need to leave a.s.a.p came as a surprise to me but is encouraging and hopefully will be an inspiration to others. It’s a very comforting thought that I wont be the only one fighting this battle, I never said it was going to be an easy one!

It’s all very well for people to point fingers and blame each other and usually the government for everything that’s wrong with the country, but they make it sound like we have our own Wizard of Oz sitting in a booth somewhere flicking switches to make things happen. Well guess what, we don’t (!), and it’s as much up to the average Tom, Dick and Harry, or Raju, Rani and Rakesh in our case to ‘be the change you want to see in the world’ as Gandhiji said and personally, I think sometimes all it takes is to be true to yourself and be brave enough to be an individual who cares...

The first morning...

I awoke from my exhausted collapse, that which was nothing like sleep. The lump that was my body took up no more that a quarter of the bed, the side of my face still moist from the damp pillow it still lay on. How I moved across the room, unable to stand, barely to crawl, I am unsure. My head of lead denied me balance of any kind, stooping forward dangerously…

My mind drifted in and out of consciousness on the floor where I had stopped. Time took its own course, one that took no notice of my sorry state. Once again I drifted away only to find myself stumbling out of a cold shower hours later and dressing myself. How I got there I do not know, I remember feeling dirty inside and too clearly the fear of the growing pile of my things on the new wooden floor as they left where they had been…

Walking along the winding pathways, endless and recurrent, one step at a time, one breath at a time, my fathers voice continued to give me the will to move as it had done earlier that day…

As I sit from pain my insides do not relax, this pain I realize does not stem from my muscles. It radiates from somewhere beneath, through my lungs, nose and throat until I am coughing and gasping for breath. The choking is from a tight grip closing around my neck. The hand is of my own making, a creation of my veiled thoughts. I attempt to find the source of this pain and hope that it is not from the inside but from the ground that it makes its way into me…

All this while I have been watching myself struggle. I have left that body but can feel what it feels. But the empty shell is not only missing the part of me that is floating above its head, for I feel empty too. Sick and unable to re-enter that sad self again, I am unable to be the person beneath me. The person I am supposed to be. It seems my mind and heart has for once chosen the same path. One that is so far in the opposite direction from where I am headed that it has separated itself, only to realize I am now in two, yet stuck in the same place…

I float right in front of my body, for the first time daring to look at myself from anywhere but above. I see there is a hole in my centre from where my soul is leaving my body. My soul is leaving me in search of her. Leaving me, for her.

Words of love...

Listening to love songs
as i sing along
in my head, she tells me
stories of broken hearts,
lives, desecrated lands
she reads from pages
inside her
lyrics of rebellion
we can share
no words of love
she speaks
though she sings
no words of love
written, given
no words of love
inspired to create
and write, give
i hit repeat as it ends
and she goes on
no words of love...