Being Inspired

Inspiration- a word we are quite familiar with and take pride in mentioning every now and then. In the course of one’s very short life, I must admit that it is quite astonishing that many people come and get an opportunity to go as well but the ones who have no hesitation at all in leaving an everlasting imprint on our soft hearts and brittle minds can be called role models or better inspirations (Hey. . . That’s my definition; I wonder how you define them??)

From being a child to a teen (that’s no mean feat!) I’ve had numerous inspirations (privileged of being a normal human). As a child (well . . . even now; Wink, wink) the inescapable effect of the saga of Harry Potter, the brilliant Hermione Granger, the wise old Dumbledore, the friendly Hagrid, the awesome Weasely twins all left me dazed. I looked up to them as my role models, trying to be as cool as them (though knowing full well that I couldn’t even be half as cool as them). But it wasn’t long before I grew up (or did I grow up??) and realized that there is a world outside fiction as well. The world I live in. Yes. . . The REAL world (or should I call it real?). I soon learnt to draw inspiration from my Mum, my Dad, my Sis, my teachers and so forth. I wanted to be a multi- tasker like my mum, paint and do math like my Dad, be tall and jolly like my sis, patient like my teachers and the list was endless (it still is, hehehe. . .). By the time I entered high school, I thought a good number of 110 (an approximation) people were enough as inspirations and I was adamant on my decision to not have any more. But then entered this man with his long curly locks, an air of confidence about him, an aura of dedication emanating from him, a desire to shape the minds of hundreds of children and he changed my decision and yes perception of role models as well.  Instantly I knew that this man would turn an impressive number of 110 inspirations to an appealing 111. He was Mr. Anees Ahmad (my teacher and a fatherly figure) who goes beyond books to inculcate in the children the much needed values. His motivational talks have always helped me and being under his guidance has been an experience extraordinaire.

All of my (now 130 or more, I’ve lost count) inspirations taught me that “the one who gives up in life is no different than the one who never tried” (no famous personality said this unless I were to gain instant fame which at the moment is most unlikely). After journeying a long way on the path of life (is 16 yrs and 2 months really that long??) I’ve come to learn that life is all about being inspired and inspiring others. People will continue adding up to your vast number of inspirations. Never think that you’ve got enough inspirations to look up to because you’ll always fall short of one inspiration and another and yet another. . . 

On Seeing Love

“Can love be seen?” asked the girl

Playing with her long silky curls

“Yes it can be” I said

“Bees hovering over a flower bed

A mother caressing her little one

A blind man smiling at the shining sun

The tides longing to reach for the moon

Sitting on a tree, the solitary loon

The brook running to meet the sea

Dancing clouds, happy as can be

The plants rooted to the ground

A mother bird, feeding her child the only grain she found

A dad tickling his little doll

A sister running to her brother’s call

There’s love in everything you see around you

There’s love in your heart and yes in mine too”

To My God

God, just light a candle on my way

The path ahead is dark, they say

I fear stepping another foot ahead

I prefer waiting for a sign instead

A sign from you so that I know

You are with me and I’ll bow

I know you’ll guide me through my way

I know you’ll turn my night into day

All have left me and I am alone

Promising to be by my side, all have gone

The torturous path I’ve traversed so far

You were with me, your doors were ajar

I know you’ll shower your mercy on me

It’s all dark, I cannot see

So, just light a candle on my way

The path ahead is darker, they say

Lift Me Up

Lift me up, o ye winds!
Lift me up high
Lift me up, O ye winds!
And just let me fly

Take me to the summer moon
Let me feel them all
The twinkling stars, palpable clouds
Let me experience the dark night fall

Let me watch the hell breathe fire
Let me see the heaven sigh
Let me sit on a raindrop bright
Let me fly around the sky

I want to see the blue earth
Take me up to the mars
Or let me be a little fairy
For just a few hours

I want to feel the meteorites
And let me see the sun ablaze
Let me have a quick glimpse
Or let me gaze n gaze

I have the dreams
But I need wings

Lift me up, O ye winds!
Lift me up high
Lift me up, O ye winds!
And just let me fly…

Born Into Brothels: My perception

At a time when every Indian is crying hoarse over the blackening portrait of the motherland, a non- Indian researcher Ms. Zana Briski had the courage to stand up and do something instead of sitting in the comfortable arms of the sofa in front of the television, pausing the feast of Paneer Tikkas for a moment to curse the ‘poor’, the ‘weak’ the ‘sluts’; holding them responsible for the present scenario only to resume enjoying the delicious food.

The documentary ‘Born into Brothels’ by Zana Briski and Ross Kauffman left me deep in thought. Zana Briski not only made the documentary but did a lot more. It was the heart- wrenching story or I’d rather say reality of the shadowy part of India unbeknownst to most of us. The documentary unveiled the underbelly of a so- called ‘metropolitan city’- Kolkata. Revolving around the lives of the children of prostitutes, the filming as the name suggests was done inside a brothel which is not an easy task considering the condition of the brothels.

There were moments in the movie which managed to strike the chords of my heart like the scene in which a 9- 10 year old boy says that he would like to break free from the 'hell' and take the girl he liked with him and go to some other place to study. There were moments which made me smile (at the kids’ innocence), moments that made my heart leap up with joy like the scene where the kids go to a beach for the first time, moments when my heart cried with the silenced cries of the kids (at their anguish and unshared pain of living in such a condition), moments which made me heave a sigh of relief (when all the children were tested HIV negative) and moments which won my appreciation(the efforts put in by Ms. Zana to teach the children photography and get them admitted to a school). What inspired me was the way the children looked at the world. They had a positive approach towards life in spite of bearing so much pain.

I was especially moved by a kid’s statement "We have nothing called ‘hope’ in our future." The statement has remained etched in my mind and one day I aspire (like Zana Briski) to become that ‘hope.’ I too want to make an entry into their lives as a golden ray. Someday, maybe they too (the kids) will laugh that carefree laughter; they too will cry a child’s cry. Someday, they too will get back their lost childhood.

I Hold the World

(A tribute to women)

Born out of the darkness of a weary womb

I entered the world to be doomed

Midst echoes of unending pain

A meaning out of life, I try to gain

Fed from an almost empty bowl by weakened hands

Still I stand, still I stand

Walking for miles without a pause

‘neath the scorching sun with blistered toes

With a lamp in one hand to show the way

And flowers in the other to make a perfect day

I climb and climb, my limit is the sky

I rise high, I rise high

Arousing hopes, mending dreams

Like a tinge of light, a distant gleam

Working through the day, guarding the night

My life in my hands, an empty soul inside

Trudging relentlessly, my happiness gone

Still, I move on, I move on

On coarse grains of sand I walk

My throat dry, still I talk

Surrounded by angry voices

I’m left but with a few choices

People really don’t let me live

Still I give, still I give

With my head held high, I walk and work

People scoff and they smirk

My lips still curve into a smile

I move with a broken heart, all the while

My dreams and desires lie in a corner curled

I hold the world, I hold the world

A few Haiku Poems

Thanks to my guru +Vidur Jyoti , (a published poet) I tried a new form of poetry- Haiku. In a two day 'Regional writers' workshop' conducted by CBSE in collaboration with Katha Books, Dr. Jyoti, a surgeon by profession taught us different types of Japanese poetry like Haiku, Haiga, Haibun, Tanka as well as free verse poems. I thank him for teaching me to go beyond my own little word in just two days time. Here are a few Haiku poems that I tried.

the orange globe

shimmering waves

destination uncertain

* * *

garden bench- -

a man sits down

in a cloud of dust

* * *

ravens- - 

the only sign of life

in the withered tree

* * *

The Challenge of a homeless boy

Playing amidst the rubble,

Working on the streets,

My problems, each day double,

With so many losses and defeats.

One wants an end to such a life,

Where you don’t get anything despite the fact you strive.

My home is the pavement on the street.

My roof, the scorching sun’s heat.

My comfort, the splashing water on my face.

My life is the passing of the days.

My shoes, the blisters on my feet.

My hunger is the love that I need.

Life has given me so much pain.

I fell down time and again.

Still I never did moan or groan.

Instead, I challenge life to face it alone.