The paradox

Life is so full of paradoxes that it would definitely be mind boggling to keep a track. Don’t we very often find ourselves trapped in a Catch-22 situation? The solution to the problem takes us back to the problem itself and we’re profoundly confounded.
Be it science or mathematics, the paradox never leaves our side! So if a bucket with infinite capacity is full, there’s always some more that can be added to it. Tell this to a cynic and wait for the awe you expect. Unfortunately, he replies with:
‘a. It cannot have infinite capacity.
b. If it does have, it cannot be full. I think you’re asking the wrong question.’
The very beauty of paradox is spoiled by a tinge of reasoning.

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The paradox

Life is so full of paradoxes that it would definitely be mind boggling to keep a track. Don’t we very often find ourselves trapped in a Catch-22 situation? The solution to the problem takes us back to the problem itself and we’re profoundly confounded.
Be it science or mathematics, the paradox never leaves our side! So if a bucket with infinite capacity is full, there’s always some more that can be added to it. Tell this to a cynic and wait for the awe you expect. Unfortunately, he replies with:
‘a. It cannot have infinite capacity.
b. If it does have, it cannot be full. I think you’re asking the wrong question.’
The very beauty of paradox is spoiled by a tinge of reasoning.

War

 

I shall tell you a story
Of mortals dead and forgotten.
Justice awaited upon and hopes shattered.
Structures razed and homes devastated.

Of an apparent child killed while just a foetus.
Women assaulted, raped, tortured, blackmailed, burnt and dictated.
Their tears dried up long ago.
But the humiliation flows inside their veins.

Of children lost, kidnapped, trafficked and sold.
Carrying on through the rest of their lives.
Dreaming about their bleak future.

Of the whistleblowers
paying for their goodwill
by burning at the pyre
or buried deep underneath the cobweb of crime.
Threatened, accused, stabbed and shot.

The narration seems long and tedious, is it?
But it is just the tip of the iceberg we live on.
I suppose you possess a lot of time to spare.
And here I am, with so much to share.

It ends?

Your reasons are beyond me.
Do I not interest you anymore,
now being within your reach?
Months of hide and seek,
an adventurous escapade.
And it ends?

I’m not the mysterious puzzle anymore.
Did it take you so long to realise?
That I can’t be flawlessly beautiful at all time.
That I might be messy and untidy and I ought to be excused.
That I can’t forever stay young.
You are just like them.
Like all of them.

Take away these memories.
Heaps of absolute rubbish.
Go away, sweet heart.
There’s but one regret,
down the years when you realise,
that you wronged a heart which loved you so,
you might want to come running,
begging me for another chance.
Oh frail me!
I may not be here,
my love.
I shall not be here.

Escapist tendencies

Life to us, is nasty and short. Everyday we get to hear the same stories repeating themselves over and over again – war, violence and despair. How exactly does our consciousness cope with the fact that gloom is inevitable? I think that is the point when the concept of alternate realities comes into existence. Let us take into account ‘daydreaming’ which is essentially considered a child’s forte. Is that true? I have found myself daydreaming whenever the stark realities of the monotonous life haunts me. So it doesn’t matter if I am attending a class, travelling, cooking, reading or doing anything else. Instantaneous imagination comes naturally to me and helps me to adapt myself to the truths that this world has to offer. Entire industries flourish on this very tendency of rational humans to look for amusement that for a while, makes them forget their worries. So we choose to read adrenaline heightening novels that transport us to a world which seems different in some respect than the one we are a part of. The very fact that we tend to identify parts of ourselves with the characters encourages the subconscious to revel in it. Same stands true for visual media like television and cinema. So is it the reason that the shows and movies that depict a utopian or happily-ever-after setting climb to the topmost rung of the popularity ladder? Has social network become a medium through which people choose to interact with friends virtually and not in person because that defeats the very purpose of seeking an ‘escape’? This is what I have to find out.

Bare

Locked up within trecherous depths of apprehension,
a blatant assertion laid bare.
It shocks and surprises you,
it startles me.
Read between the lines and you will find out why.
And while you and me, go on distractedly,
holding on in speculation of ‘Perhaps,maybe,I wish, I hope. . . ‘
while the brutish truth stares in my eyes,
and I look away.
All the truth, like an open book.
And while choose to turn pages and be engrossed,
here’s a book wanting to be embedded in your intellectual spirit.

What you desire is mine.
And while we let go of the sadistic contempt made obvious,
hold my hand and lead me through.
I surrender my being to you.
Read between the lines.
Between the wrecks of a heart that has been bottled up
and thrown into a sea of crowded emotions.
Hoping to be picked up by you,
wishing to open up.
So desperately vying for an eternal kiss,
the ghost of an embrace that didn’t exist.
Between my thoughts and yours.
Let them entangle and become a perplexed storm,
painful to envision a lonely existence.
My feelings lie here, undressed, bare.
And in the glow that your eyes burn with,
they gleam and glisten.

Her

In her eyes, the desire to win hearts
the limitations of being a frail woman.
And as she passes the powder puff over her sunken cheekbones,
a rolling diadem sparkles,
outlines the blinking charm beneath her forehead.
Arched brows, defined lips.
So often called seductive, so tenderly kissed.
Bites them and clings to the mirror.
‘Why?’
Gives herself a steady gaze.
‘Who’s the fairest of them all?’
Walks through the corridor.
Confidently sinister, roughly appealing.
Climbs down the oak carved staircase.
Staggering steps, a dizzy vision.
Lustrous night black hair falling on ivory shoulders.
Makes herself a vodka shot. Old school.
Gulps it down her burning troat.
Lights the cigarette and watches the smoke rising, in childlike awe.
Shuts tight the angel eyes once again.
Mystery personified.

Afraid of losing control

Is middle class Indian society ready to accept the gradual rebellion springing from its youth that had for long been kept bottled up? Small towns and cities are rapidly going global with the advent of consumerism, social media and the concept of individual expression. Multiplex and mall culture are giving to the young possibilities that were not dreamt of a decade earlier. Where is this leading us? Why inspite of such positive change, we lag behind in our mentality to accept notions so common to the west today like one night stands, relationships before marriage, live ins etc etc…

The parental authority is afraid of losing the control that it has gradually built up, dictating just everything- what you should wear, what friends you can have, how long you can stay out and if you might have a boyfriend/girlfriend. Things are changing and that is undeniable. Whether it is happening for the better or the worse is yet to be found out. The difference in ideology of the west and the east is star, and the same ideas that inspire in one society might be termed blasphemy in the other. But it still is the same for small cities where young boys and girls are now vulnerably exposed to the same popular cuture that there parents were screening them from. This generation of socially active tech savvy teenagers is finding itself at crossroads and desires strongly to be given a say, to understand the truth as it stands and to delete the myth regarding their sexuality. Perhaps this is one of the reasons why lesser known towns are witnessing a spurt in crime that involves the use of technology- morphed photographs leading to blackmailing, duplicating certificates like experts and copying what they see on TV.

Love today

Love, a word that has become so frequently used today so that it has lost its magical charm in the imagination of young lovers. I’m talking about romantic love. In an era where it is simple enough to fall in love with someone you’ve met over a social networking site, it becomes increasingly difficult to keep the charm alive and kicking. ‘Break-ups’ are the norm of the day where attraction towards somebody is supposed to be identified as love. Had the romantics been alive today, they’d have torn their hair apart to realize what the word ‘romance’ now means. Times change. So do definitions. What really needs to be answered today is the question whether the newfound ecstasy would last long enough.