Then Now Then! What?

“Doli nahi se turrdee kadae kaharr bina, Charkha ronda vekheya mien mutyaar bina”
We have seen so much of change in our lifetime (just the last 20yrs or so). So much change. Life these days is so full of chaos. The moment you step out of the house, buses whizzing past, cars honking on traffic lights, a distant hammering, a jet flying past…; I try to shut my ears close, to get out. This increase of entropy in our lives is certainly undesirable. The world around us constantly reminds us about it. There is not a moment of peace anywhere. I for certain cherish memories of days when I was a little kid. Ancestral house in village next to the farm, those walks in the forest reserves, sitting by the riverside, early morning walks in rose garden, yoga on the beach under the sunrise, and those hours of loneliness. Moments that might never come again, for modernization has left its mark everywhere these days. It is not just the db levels that have changed; it has brought changes penetrating into the very abyss of our hearts. People, emotions, culture, tradition, ways, attitude, relations .., everything around me has changed now. For me, all this went unnoticed till now. I forgot about the birds that are not singing any more, there are no cicadas in my garden, the cuckoo is not sitting on the mango tree in my backyard, and definitely I haven’t heard the morning song for quite a while. Where did they all go, maybe they are still there striving for an identity suppressed in the moans of my modern world. A certain craving that arose from within for those old days, and I sat down thinking of what I am missing here. The trigger – “Balle ni Punjab diyae sher bachiyae”. A very old song by one of the greatest ever Punjabi singers – Asa Singh Mastana. The peace that the song carried, the joy and so much more. Noise wasn’t noisy then in those times. In a matter of seconds I find my self drifting backwards to those times. Even to times which I have only seen in pictures or heard about. The disliking for the present growing within like a cancer and now spreading across through my brain. Oh ya! I was being nostalgic about for memories that weren’t even mine. Crazy? No. The power of music definitely!

Astalavista!

The world around us, our environment, both natural and man-made, has always been under a constant state of evolution. As time progresses, things change and with each passing moment the world becomes a still more complicated place for a simple life. Is it just me that has been unable to adapt to this ever changing world. I hope not. Humans are bright, intelligent creatures. We are supposed to be ok with changes. I have always been able to equip myself with the latest technology, equipment, software, system, mobile phone, automobile, GPS systems and what not. So which part of me is it that fails? Relationships. They change faster than anything relative. More than often I find my self on the verge of loosing another friend, relative or even an admirer. Miserable moments. Fights. Exchange of ugly terminology. Mudslinging. Stop. Separate ways.

Few friendships last long. At times it is unbelievable that things can go this bad. We were all born as beautiful children in this world. And as we grow, what happens. Whose mind did it corrupt now? I can just hope it wasn’t me. Our relationships can die, turn poison. But memories, how do I get rid of them. Make you feel caught in a flytrap, they do. Maybe they were my mistakes, maybe yours, or maybe ours as we helped each other make them. Something we both realize, and yet feel so helpless. In the end it is not just a friend I loose, it is a chunk of my heart that leaves the rest bleeding. The saga repeats. Maybe I can help it this time, or strengthen my heart before it is ripped apart.

Rabbi sings my heart out ….

ve yaar mere kade sege tin chaar

....................We were 3-4 friends
katthe ched dey si kudiyaan

....................We used to flirt with girls together
katthe Khaadi assan maar

....................And got beaten up together
Pehlaan Pallaa gaya

....................Palla went First
phir aeru gaya baar

....................Aeru followed
hun saanga vi dubai

....................Now Sanga is moving to Dubai
bache gill te guitar

....................Left: Gill and Guitar

sanga apna si bandaa tagraa

....................Sanga was a strong man
kade darr na fikar udde nede lagaa

....................Fear or worry never came near him
bare din baad kal aaya udda phone si

....................He called me yesterday, after a long time
kehndaa din taan lang jaada ae

....................Said that the days pass through
par shaam nai

....................But the evenings don't

ve yaar mere
ve yaar mere
ve yaar mere

Points of View

A blogger's definition of things:-

Good - people coming in to view the blog

Better - blogger’s coming in to view the blog

Excellent - female audience for the blog

Ecstatic - sexy female blogger audience

Angels - people commenting and praising the blog

Devils - idiots that don’t understand a thing about what is said and still always commenting

Sardars - guyz scaring away the honey in my comments list

Last but not the least

Sinners - assholes that come in, read the blog and leave without commenting

http://jiwateshwar.blogspot.com

At a time not so distant in my past, I didn’t know what the difference between a blog and a forum was. They were all the same to me. Just a place where someone raises a topic or issue and people comment or discuss it. To me, it all felt like bullshit and utter waste of time and bandwidth, which we unfortunately have a little of in India. Then I learnt about my friends running blogs. Raised my curiosity, it did. Harpreet's blog was the first I started reading out with. Things he talked about and the feelings he evoked. Then another close friend Alok started out with one. Felt left out. So here I am now, with a blog that I call my own. Waste of time? Definitely yes. Searching the deepest darkest corners of ones heart to come up with topics to write about. Wasting time on what Alok so beautiful put up as n e t w o r k i n g. And the tedious task of formatting and improving. Lot of hard work! So why does it have to be a blog then. I think I am quite close to what the answer might be. It’s simple. I don’t have a girl friend. Yes that is the truth. And neither do my friends. Sorry to let out on your secret pals! But that is the truth. Blog helps you share what lies in your heart. The things I wanted to tell people about. The thoughts I wanted to share with someone. A wider audience. If I had a girl friend then maybe I wouldn’t need a pseudo semi portal on a digital medium reaching for human touch (on keyboards. Lolz).

Newton’s law “every action has an equal and opposite reaction”.

So if I am giving something, I must be getting something back as well. I think yes. Things happen. Good ones, bad ones. We move on. But each and every moment in life has something to teach. You can read a book without giving a thought to what is being read. That is what life is. Things happen, they are registered in our mind and we move on. What was the value worth of that moment is something we don’t give a thought to. They like exams. You don’t study unless you have an exam. Well at least I don’t study unless I am faced with an exam. Blogging is thus a thought provoking process. You sit and analyze things of past or present. The way tings are. Why they are. How they are. What difference did or do they make to life now and later. You start seeing the better aspect of things. Had it not been for jerks like Alok and Harpreet, I would never have seen this way of things. Thanks pals. But do get a life. Get a real friend you can let your heart out to (♀). Cheers mate!

Ashes Unburnt

“All that exists today, will be dead tomorrow” something I never really understood in my younger days. Good times last, bad times last longer. But neither of them seems to die! Time and again my mind wanders back to days gone by. Things that happened my way, and times that didn’t bring no joy. Of times that reduced the life ahead to a mere question mark. Why? Why do they haunt me? I know im thorough it. I have realized my mistakes, and at times my helplessness. Is this what he designed for me? Questions I have, lot of them; no answers.

Thinking of the sadder times, one thinks of what went wrong. Things that haunt you the most, are ones you had no control of. Where you made no mistakes. Things just didn’t go your way and made it miserable. Such are times, when one finds self blocked from all corners. There is no where to run to, you know your life is changing with each passing moment and each turn you make is wrong. Many things have gone wrong in my life. I come from what they call a privileged family. My dad is in the civil services and life is supposed to be all rosy and glory. The first thing that comes in people's mind is “POWER”. Well this is what I thought as well, when I was a kid. Hormones? I think they do teach. Oh yes they do. They made you admire women in a completely different way. They gave a meaning to those tears. They introduced you to emotions earlier not understood.

Emotions! I feel is the most important aspect. Ya, I feel!

So there was more to office than what met my eyes. It was not power, it couldn't be. For I saw a man crumple, shattered, a man who gave up on life. Things lost meaning, and scotch lost its aroma. The true power he believed in; honesty. So did it really not exist? It couldn’t have, for how could such a thing happen. Mind loses all logic and fears no future. Yes, bad times do that to you.

Smoke rose high from a distant garden, he had no courage to return to the smoking ashes of his own belief, while his heart still twisted and turned in the fire. The pain I could feel. Life became miserable. He quit on his job and went in for a year long leave. He was not the man I once called father. All signs of life reaped away from those once rosy cheeks. He couldn’t be, for my father was supposed to be all strong and tough. Then was that really a drop of tear that I saw on those cheeks. Something that im not going to forget for the rest of my life. I don’t know if good times get better, but I certainly know that bad times do get worse.

But it wasn’t supposed to last this long. For he taught me the true meaning of strength. Bad things happen, they always do, everyone faces them. And they always do break the man inside you. Strength does not lie in defying such moments. It lies in facing them and accepting them. Strength brings you back to life. For weak is the person who knows not off a second try. When something of this magnitude happens you are bound to be broken. But strength takes it own time to mend you. He knew he was right, because god had now given him the strength, the strength he once believed in. I now faced the officer he was bred to be. Yes these people are amazing. Everything about them is fascinating. The air around them, something you got to experience. The power that makes them so. My dad was now busier than ever. The blood returning back to his cheeks. He wasn’t going to let this happen to him. He was going to retaliate. I saw strange people come home at odd hours. I saw my dad rush away at minutes notice around the clock. Sights of people in prison, the third degree and stuff like that. Strange phone calls…..

In the end he was victorious. The magnitude of his victory? …… the cabinet had to loose a minister with speculations of my father being closely related to Harkishen Singh Surjeet! Life was good again and back in motion. It was strange, the way I felt so helpless. The point where all hopes for happiness had flushed away, the pain which still makes my heart pump more than blood into my eyes, and the salty water that seeped down my throat. Years have passed by, but each and every detail clinging to my soul like leaches slowly draining the soup of life from it. But it is a pain I have learnt to live with, strangely not turning numb. Things could be worse; I don’t want to see them. The pain is now the greatest gift god gave me. I remember it and I remember how we got over it. The sign we and my father needed. The sign from god which strengthens our beliefs in the power of truth and honesty. For there is no power or strength greater than this.

Aye aye Captain!

It is friday evening and I’m sitting all alone in my room. Weird thoughts cross my mind as I lay my eyes upon him. Something in the back of my head tells me that I don’t want to be with him, and an involuntary smile stretches across my face as our eyes meet. His presence chokes me and I rarely feel comfortable around strangers. He is no stranger for the matter, yet no stranger could be stranger than this. The convulsions in my stomach are maturing into fits as I helplessly watch them make plans for the evening. There is not much one can do to avoid situations such as these. A social animal – that is what man is. The voice in my head keeps telling me that I don’t want to step on to the bus. He could hardly be any fun.
I gleam with pride as they realize, I was right. This was hardly any fun. A total waste of time and money, especially money which we had little of. A sudden gush oh wind cleared the winter night’s fog. Our eyes now lay upon the gleaming lights at a distance. Childish though, but a temptation for sure. The rides changed it all for ever. A mutation of characters, change of perception, and evolution of relationships. One like the musketeers is what we felt on top of the ship, and the feeling has lived ever since in each one of us. Strangers?.... we still are, to the feeling that existed and how it changed. Maybe it was the armor we stepped out of to step onto the rides. The bonds of formality and feeling of insecurity is what we shed that day, and replaced them with bonds of friendship and security.
Was it all about the ride then? How would have our lives been any different had we not stepped onto the ship? Would we still have been friends? And if yes then, then would it have been this strong? Things we can never find answers to.
I guess still on the ride is what we are!
- tHEoRIGINALbEAST