Artistically Wild(e)!

Lately, I have had some absolutely beautiful coincidences. And, amongst them one of my favorite is coming across the Book ’The Picture of Dorian Gray’ - By Oscar Wilde. I had read a few of Wilde’s ballads several years back but I stumbled upon this book after a conversation with a friend (who claims to have a part of Lord Henry Wotton in him, which I think otherwise!).
While reading this novel, I could not help but notice the sly sincere words that turned scandalous in context. With the book portraying the conflict between Aestheticism and Morality, intense and with immoral sensual depth at the same time, overwhelmingly I was left sometimes blushing, sometimes chuckling like an imbecile but constantly spellbound.

Prefacing the novel with ‘The artist is the creator of beautiful things. To reveal art and conceal the artist is art’s aim. The critic is he who can translate into another manner or a new material his impression of beautiful things.’ and concluding with ‘All art is quite useless’, Wilde’s reflection on art, the artist and the utility of both is extraordinarily incredible.
The protagonist of the story, Dorian Gray, is on the brink of adulthood and is blessed with paranormal beauty. The story of the rise and fall of Dorian Gray might instead represent an allegory about morality meant to critique, rather than endorse the obeying of one’s impulses as thoughtlessly and dutifully as the aestheticism at the Victorian time period dictates. The phenomenal ability to incorporate aspects of both fantasy and realism into a work of impeccable portraiture can be done only by a genius and which not only makes this book extremely enjoyable but a ‘piece of work’. Through thoughtful imagery and realistic dialect, two contradicting genres are merged into a fascinatingly morbid tale. From the picturesque beauty of Dorian Gray, to the deceptive and manipulative philosophical life theories of the witty Lord Henry, to painting a terrifying picture with the haunting detail of the gruesome murder of the painter ‘Basil Holland’ the book makes you go Wild(e) in the most unimaginative ways.

It would not be wrong to say that if the novel is an essay on "decorative art”, it is also a piece of classic art composed of carefully selected phrases which undoubtedly makes it one of the best works in literature. 

Soft.White.Snow.

It has been a while since the winter has been gripping Chicago with snow. There’s something otherworldly about these soft white flakes that make them strikingly picturesque. Perhaps it’s their transience. Thus, I stop to watch these miniscule crystals swirl in the air, as they quietly descend upon treetops and roofs, and I can’t help but marvel. Watching and absorbing all the snowfall, snow-covered scenery that surrounds my building makes the weekend more than perfect. Hightailing back into the warmth of the blanket, I grab myself a nice mug of hot chocolate, and take a seat by the window, waiting for the right thoughts to strike.

No wonder that snowfall has inspired boundless stanzas of poetry, and all I could think was Ralph Waldo Emerson’s ‘The Snow-Storm’.

     Announced by all the trumpets of the sky,
     Arrives the snow, and, driving o'er the fields,
     Seems nowhere to alight: the whited air
     Hides hills and woods, the river, and the heaven,
     And veils the farm-house at the garden's end.
     The sled and traveller stopped, the courier's feet
     Delayed, all friends shut out, the housemates sit
     Around the radiant fireplace, enclosed
     In a tumultuous privacy of storm.

     Come see the north wind's masonry.
     Out of an unseen quarry evermore
     Furnished with tile, the fierce artificer
     Curves his white bastions with projected roof
     Round every windward stake, or tree, or door.
     Speeding, the myriad-handed, his wild work
     So fanciful, so savage, nought cares he
     For number or proportion. Mockingly,
     On coop or kennel he hangs Parian wreaths;
     A swan-like form invests the hidden thorn;
     Fills up the farmer's lane from wall to wall,
     Maugre the farmer's sighs; and, at the gate,
     A tapering turret overtops the work.
     And when his hours are numbered, and the world
     Is all his own, retiring, as he were not,
     Leaves, when the sun appears, astonished Art
     To mimic in slow structures, stone by stone,
     Built in an age, the mad wind's night-work,
     The frolic architecture of the snow.
 

One Degree of Connection

I am fascinated by friendships. Not the acquaintances you see occasionally or the Facebook friends who wouldn’t recognize you on the street. But, the real people; the people who know and are in peace with the deepest parts of you. They’re the kind of people you can talk to about how hard it’s been to compose yourself lately or what’s really going on in your life. They’re the kind of people you call for a ride when you get a flat tire and they’re the ones who affirm and support all the “weird” things about you that make other people uncomfortable. They are the kind of people whom you can call at 4 AM in the morning, talk any crap and they understand it. I’m so very fascinated by deep, meaningful friendships like these because for most of my life, I’ve had only a very few. And these few good friends are the only ones whom I spend a lot of time with. We celebrate birthdays, analyze boyfriend behavior, and discuss the pros and cons of the haircut of the season.

My speculated this degree of connection is sort of a corollary of the Theory of Six Degrees of Separation. For people who are not aware of this theory, Six Degrees of Separation is a theory which states that 'anyone on the planet can be connected to any other person on the planet through a chain of acquaintances that has no more than five intermediaries.' Meaning that everyone and everything is six or fewer steps away, by way of introduction, from any other person in the world. But according to the constitution of my beliefs we live in a human world, where personality, lifestyle choices, and values determine the way we live and relate to others. By taking human factor into consideration and being a little practical, we must acknowledge that some relationships bring fluidity and symmetry to our hearts more easily and quickly than others. Once I faced the fact that there is something called true profound best friendships, the prominent challenge was: Do I have any best friends? Do I really have any 4 A.M. friends? Are there people I know who can fit into my little orbit of weirdness? If not, then what the hell have I been thinking all this while?
After a little bit of contemplation something flashed into my mind:
We are all a little weird, and life’s a little weird, and when we find people whose weirdness is compatible to ours, we join up with them and get into mutual weirdness to form a bond and call it ‘friendship’.
So I buckled up and put myself to the job of finding the people with complimentary weirdness which would fit into my territory of friendship. I turned my Friend Radar to full tilt. I prowled the corners of the interwebs and relentlessly picked the brains of people I knew, all in an attempt to identify my ‘best’ friends. I was determined to find the friends who I could talk openly with about my ideologies (which are unarguably unreasonable!) and how they processed every decision I made. And I wanted these same weird-minded friends to adore my sometimes-10-year-old sense of humor, my introversion, and my devotion to not-so-sensible beliefs on certain things. Uncommonness, down to earth, unmelodious singing and talking through facial expressions by emitting invisible rays of meaning; sounds like the duality of a perfect friendship to me, which is why with genuine sense of gratitude I thank every day that I have had the distinct pleasure of sharing my life events with such people. These friends are now my extended family who have made me so much more of a practical dreamer, a bit methodical, more humble and to a certain extend further crazier. My friends and their friendships have changed my outlook on various aspects of life which I eternally will be thankful for. Although I should mention that it wasn’t that easy actually, to connect with them in one go. It took us a while to click with each other and understand the gravity of our friendship during the thick and thins, but these are the friendships that have turned me into what I am today. As much as our culture waxes on and on about romantic love, some praise needs to be sent over to the true friends who hold us up through it all. The love that comes from your own, custom-made community of kinfolk is vital. Nothing can really be more nourishing.

I can keep writing on this, but it makes more sense to sum up this degree of connection with the entire friendship mechanism in one single sentence; You can have innumerable friends all around you, but it is very important to find the uncommon commonness between each other to experience the best friendships of your life; and which usually begins unexpectedly!

Brave New You.

I was in a book shop browsing through the new released bestsellers when I had a chance to talk to this nice American lady about her favorite books. We had a small talk and I was surprised to learn that one of her favorite books was ‘In The Name of Honor, By Mukhtar Mai’. I had read this book long back and honestly, I could not keep down the book then.  ‘In The Name of Honor’ is the memoir of Mukhtar Mai, a Pakistani woman from the impoverished village of Meerwala (Pakistan), as told to the French writer, Marie-Therese Cuny, and translated from French to English by Linda Coverdale. It is a beautifully written book, incredibly powerful and extremely important memoir that portraits Mukhtar’s fight for justice. She was "sentenced" to be gang-raped by the tribal council of her village, to pay for a crime her 12-year-old brother did not commit. She was brutally gang-raped but instead of dwelling on the injustice committed against her, she focused on her fight for justice and dignity. Instead of committing suicide as so many rape victims in her situation would do, she fought for herself and eventually became an outspoken activist for Pakistani women. 

‘… As you read ‘In The Name of Honor, I think you will find a story that is tremendously inspiring rather than one tells of brutality and despair. By the alchemy of her courage and stubbornness, Mukhtar has taken a sordid tale of gang rape and turned it into something heartwarming and hopeful. And that is one more reason why, when I am around Mukhtar, I sense that this shy pleasant woman is truly a great and historic figure – and why she’s one of my heroes’ - Nicholas D. Kristof.

I cannot agree more as it puts me in a thought about the other thousand million souls who are fighting a battle of their own.

Ergo; I dedicate this post to the indomitable spirit to survive!

There's this place called Earth. It can often be pretty surprising. On this small planet, sometimes immense pain can lead to happiness leading to change in the outlook which was never known in the first place. Everyone has a weakness they hide, everyone has a tragedy they don’t talk about, and everyone has a battle of their own that they are fighting. But nobody really speaks about it, nobody wants to. It is kept hidden wrapped under the fake smiles and happiness because we are afraid that the world might step on our fault lines and would make us screech.  

People have scars in all sorts of unexpected places, like secret road maps of their personal histories, diagrams of all their old wounds. Most of our wounds heal leaving nothing behind but a scar; not something to be ashamed of, for they are the manifestation of how strong we have been. Scars are the signs of a fighter. They remind us what our journey has been all about.  They remind us where we've been and what we've overcome. No one can claim life has been perfect to them.  Life is not perfect; it has its setbacks. Things go bad and sometimes worse.  Life gets unbelievably treacherous at times and we all have dragged ourselves at some point to make things right. Life is like that. May be we are all made that way. It doesn’t matter how tough we are. An ordeal creates mayhem, unleashing all the wounds, the fear and the trauma. But maybe that’s the point. May be going through all that is what keeps us moving forward. It’s what pushes us. May be we have to get a little messed up, before we can step up.

My point here is, life is not as bad as it seems. There is always something left to search for, something to fight for. Look around you and you will know how blessed you are. It is the time to get up and stand for what you believe in. The time for you to embrace your strengths, clean up the dirt, glue the broken pieces together, and show the world what you are made of. If you fail in doing so, try again. Keep trying, until you dare to conquer this complex life, or make the world seem a bit more magical all the while helping those who simply can't help themselves. Whether that means fixing what the world has helped to break, or having the decency to be a bit more mindful, especially of those who have been left behind. With the world as it is, we all sometimes need to be reminded to take the plunge, even if everything can sometimes seem quite trivial. But there are moments even amongst the greatest despair when the world proves that it's all worth it. When the small blue dot in the infinite universe where we live on reveals its true beauty, and when we'd think of rising ourselves up a notch.

Michigan & Mission Photography

Today I visited Michigan. With 2 of the most wonderful people I have met in United States, my professor William .F. Slater and his wonderful wife Joanna Roguska, who as matter of fact are now my extended family. 

Joanna is an amazing photographer and watching her take beautiful pictures provoked me to give photography an attempt. After many (failed) attempts I could take a few decent pictures. The pictures are very naive and absolutely unprocessed. I so much loved taking the pictures that now I sincerely intend to work on learning photography. 

A quick info that they are shot by Sony Cyber-Shot DSC-HX7V.

Love At First Sight!

It is my favorite time of the year. Autumn! Followed by the Winter.

While I was walking through the lovely brightly lit streets of Chicago Downtown with one of my best friends, chit chatting and catching up with life events in intense and interesting conversations, reminded me of my initial days (2011) which I had spent exploring the city on my own. All the memories and good times distilling through my mind briefly flashed in my eyes, and flowing through my face made my lips form a simple curve which has often set things right for me!

Hence a post, briefing on why Chicago and I got involved, and our sweet love affair.
I came to Chicago in the fall of 2011. The moment I landed from the aircraft after an exhaustively 23 hour long journey all across the Atlantic, I felt like I was into a place similar to what I had been living in. The zest and flavor of the enriching city was so much similar to that of my former love, Mumbai. I have always loved Mumbai, it has a special place in my heart. It had been a magnificent teacher, a splendid place which I now call ‘Home’. But Chicago was something more, something different, something charismatic. It was a home away from home.
Getting over with my jet-lag, I planned to roam around the city before I could get ready to give myself a kick-start for the new phase of my life. There is nothing more freeing and empowering than learning to like your own company and thus I liked the idea of exploring the city on my own.  I decided to go the North Side of the Chicago, which is more often called the ‘Downtown’. I was already captivated with the sensuality and magnetism of the city and was on my way to spoil myself in this mystic pleasure. I always prefer public transport (in a city) to a taxi and hence boarded the CTA (Chicago Transit Authority) train line (It was the closest and cheapest mode of transport). The train was filled with people from various origins; their different facial expressions, personalities and wardrobes present added sparkle to the otherwise dull and uninteresting dimension of the public transportation system. Reaching Downtown, I felt the same joy and excitement that you see in a child in an amusement park. I got on the streets and began walking aimlessly around the city. Several vivid and sensual impressions of beautiful people all around, children laughing, lovers kissing, bands playing jazz music at one of the side walks and the sunlight wetting the city were absolutely mesmerizing. That moment made me realize one thing, boundaries don’t keep other people out, they fence ‘you’ in. The city swept me away from my feet by its marvelous architecture; the masterpieces reflected the perfect proximity of intelligent human artworks and impeccable machinery skills. The beautiful buildings and high rises were a perfect contrast of normal and extraordinary illusions. The city was truly a paradise!

The day went by roaming around aimlessly from one place to another, from one street to another and meeting new faces. While the evening was covering the sky and slowly the black net of night was bulging, overflowing with its glittering haul of city lights and stars, my ears began to ring with the very different sounds of people singing and laughing in the street each with a distinct tempo.
All this while thinking and unfolding my thoughts, I realized how my pursuit of achieving my dream, the invaluable guidance from my well-wishers, the strongest friendships, the love-hate relationships and the best made decisions (then thought worst!) has landed me on the other end of the globe. It was because of these events that I could take the courage to get out of my comfort zone, trust my instincts, and fly to Chicago to pursue what I believed in. Amongst all the lessons that I have learned in life, one of the most important things which I now believe in, is, if you believe in your dreams and you are willing to take the chance without giving a damn about what anyone would think about you, then the view from the other side is absolutely spectacular!
It was late night and I decided to head home. I dint know then, what was in store for me and where I might land up. Knowing none of it, I was falling for the city and its people. I fell, truly did, before the smile faded from my lips, into a dreamless, gentle sleep in my bed. I had fallen; unaware of the fact that it was the 'love at first sight!'

It truly was.

Marriage Proposal

I am in my late twenties; in an age where Indian girls are supposed to get married and settled, an age where more than half of my friends already have kids. And like any other typical Indian family my parents are also worried about finding the right guy for me. It’s a real dilemma for an Indian parent of a 28 year old girl to find the right life partner for her and I completely understand their uneasiness and anguish. Lately they have been attending weddings of the people who are younger than me. Everywhere they go, they find people asking them ‘When is your daughter getting married?’ or ‘Has your daughter found someone yet?’ My equations with my parents are inherently very good but these uninvited affairs sometimes make it difficult for me to have a good conversation. I don’t want to be rude, but why so much hype about getting married?

I am a girl who is dating no one and with no suitable guy around me whom I can see as a prospective future husband, everyone is on the mission of searching a boy for me. My mom is tired of asking me if I am seeing someone or if someone is interested in me. Every time she asks me this I can feel a sense of disappointment and bathos in her voice when I say no. I am glad she doesn’t think I am a lesbian. 

It had become a ritual to talk everyday on this subject and one day the emotional drama eventually led my parents to make a profile for me on one of the match making websites. Personally, I don’t understand the concept of these marriage sites. I really don’t. Marrying someone whom you meet only a few times is like getting into something insensibly unknown. It did not really made sense to me. Well, my parents were very optimistic and avid about the website match making. They created a profile with a picture of mine and wrote appropriately true admirable things about me. I did not wanted to spoil their fun so I did not retaliate, though I was not quite cooperative. The process of sincerely scrutinizing a suitable boy started henceforth. I was made to go through profiles of many prospective candidates and every day we would have a conversation about who could be ‘The Perfect One’ for me. Finally, after persuading me with many brainstorming sessions and baseless arguments, they zeroed out few of the boys. They asked me to talk to one of the boys who they thought was really nice. He lived in New York for 5 years and was moving to California. The boy’s parents had already spoken to my parents and it was decided that I should first talk to the boy’s Mom on phone and then things can be taken forward from there. I was loaded with myriad advice and rules from my friends and relatives of how I should be talking and interacting. Not that I don’t know how to behave humbly civilized, but the most important thing I was asked to do was ‘Not Be Myself’. Well yes, it sounds strange but I was supposed to act like a nice sweet girl with honey coated words and little slower talking pace, which was so unlike me. I am usually in a world of my own, but on rare occasions can be very spontaneous, high on life and can crack really witty jokes and laugh like crazy, and at the same time powerfully practical. Well, I had to mask all this ‘being me’ personality and behave like a nice girl whom anyone would want to make their ‘Bahu (Daughter-In-Law)'. 

Anyways, the day arrived when I was to talk to the guy’s mother. I live in Chicago and she lives in India and I was to make a phone call. I did not mind that but I did find it a bit uncanny.  Nevertheless, I called her at the decided time. We spoke about the usual stuff and it was pretty easy going. She was very polite and cordial (and so was I!). I was happy that they did not suspect anything unusual and I was able to sail smoothly through the fake persona of mine without being caught. She had started to like me. Suddenly, the conversation became more like a questionnaire. She asked me ‘Honey, Do you know how to cook’? This is a question every Indian girl is asked no matter where and whom she is getting married to. But because I love to cook, I said yes. Then a next question popped up ‘What kind of foods can you cook?’ I told her truthfully that I can cook almost everything. I could hear her smile to this reply. But I did not know one thing. There was an avalanche of questions on its way and this was only the beginning. This was only the tip and I was yet to be hit with the rest of the ice berg! While talking to her I realized that she had a set of unreasonable concerns written on a paper from where she was catapulting. I could actually hear her turn the pages. I was kind of taken aback on how the conversation was unfolding. She was bombarding me with her inevitable absurd questions and by now I was so mentally disoriented that I was disputing with myself to find proper words to return the favors.

I precisely remember what happened next. She asked ‘How much is your GPA in M.S.?’ I was stunned. Did I hear it right? Did she just ask my G.P.A? Is it something really relevant for the marriage? Are they planning to put my grades on the wedding cards? Reluctantly I answered. I don’t think she was impressed with my answer as her son had a GPA of 4.0/4.0. The next question seriously blew my mind. ‘How much did you score in your 10th and 12th Grade, Dear? And have you ever been a topper?’ I mean, seriously?? Is it a marriage proposal or a job interview? 

I am usually very calm, cool and collected but this was getting on my nerves. I wanted to disconnect the call and stop this awfully bizarre talk, but when an Indian girl is talking as a ‘prospective bride’ candidate she has to be amiably polite and keep calm. So, I did the same, after all I was the one representing my parents and their upbringing to an absolute stranger. I was least considerate about the lady on the phone but I was very much mindful of the aftermaths. So, I kept my cool amid so much madness and answered patiently. Undeniably I was raging inside. As I was anticipating, ultimately the interrogation ended relatively early as they were not really impressed by my score cards and fellowships. It was an inexplicable lunatic session and I was in so much agony that I had to eat mouthful of chocolates and go for a long walk to get over the trauma. 

Well, this bittersweet experience made me think over on few things about finding the ‘right match’. There still exist such people in this whole wide world who look for 'packages' rather than human beings. The labels of 'homely', 'fair', 'class' and 'qualifications' have not diminished from the  Indian marriage market yet. There are people who want a perfect daughter-in-law with incredibly outstanding academics, perfect culinary skills, and a pretty face. I don’t detest them but God bless these people and their daughters-in-law!

As for me, I don’t know who I will be getting married to or if I would be getting married ever for that matter, but one thing has always been crystal clear to me; I don’t want a perfect guy. There is nothing more rare, more marvelous than a person being unapologetically oneself; comfortable in one's perfect imperfections! He could be extraordinary in his own way, but all I want is a best friend for life. Someone whom I can respect for who he is and who can respect me for who I am. Not someone who is concerned about how much I have scored all my life and how many accomplishments I have on my résumé, but somebody who can let me be me, someone whose weirdness is compatible to my insanely sane persona, and whose assorted charisma can blend with mine. 

And if a person like this does exist, sooner or later I will find that ‘One’ person who would be special in his own way.

It’s just a matter of time, Folks!

I Love You, Now and Forever

I love you, now and forever

now more so than ever
Even that you are far away from me,
I can still feel you in me.

No matter where I go and what I do,
I keep looking everywhere only for you,
No matter how savagely my world’s falling apart
your love still reside agelessly in my heart

There was a time when I felt my life had just begun
beautiful dreams had only begun to spun,
I can’t espy words to portray those times
beatific lovely days and those celestial sweet crimes

But the fate as we know it,
we were meant to be together only for some time
momentary were these celebrations and occasions
never knew time would change the perfect equations

I still remember everything that happened that night
the deadly car accident that shattered my life
it was thunderstorm, the car skid badly on highway
dashing against the rock it skid all the way

The next thing I remember is something my mind can never omit
you are in my arms with your blood on my hand and sheath
your heartbeat slowing down and you were barely able to breathe
tears rolling down my cheeks, I was watching you in disbelief.

Bravely you were fighting for your life
but who knew we weren’t meant for this life,
I still remember what you said holding my hand all the while
‘I will always love you, now and even after life’.

And then time stood still, as my love was betraying
holding your hands I was still praying
But you were now lifeless, cold, and gone
Leave me fight the battle alone which I had thought we had won

Now that you are gone, so far, so soon
leaving me hopelessly void all alone,
I try hard to catch up with life
only with the lovely memories I have.

Now when the morning dew blossoms in the first light,
and the sparkling water flows blithely in the river by,
as the ambrosial breeze flows through me
I wish you come back and be besides me.

When the sun sinks calmly at the horizon,

And the star twinkles in the sky above
I secretly wish you come closer by,
and kiss me softly under the velvet sky

I’m still waiting for you with my arms open wide,

struggling to survive like the froths of the fading tide
and before the beats of my heart loses its rhythm
I wish I could see you once and keep you forever in this lifetime.