Unfinished Garbage Tales from Chennai

The story of garbage is being written in every home and every street corner. An everyday drama where everyone is an actor! If you take any other issue, say corruption, one may flick it away with a ‘No! I have never taken or given a bribe. Not my concern’. But is there anyone who can say I produce no garbage at all? Maybe because everyone is responsible, we tend to think that someone else will do something about it!

When you exert even the slightest of mental effort, you’ll find that this isn’t some kind of rocket science. There’s a simple solution as has been demonstrated so many times - Segregate, Recycle, Compost. I even heard a development scientist remark that all the research that needs to be done on solid waste management has already been done. So, why then are our streets still in this state? Why hasn’t all that research translated into action and results for the common man? With all these thoughts bubbling within me, I decided that instead of just cribbing, I should actually do something about it. Living in a block of apartments, I wanted to talk about this to the residents. I wanted to at least find out what people thought about this, if at all they thought. Some insights gleaned were the issue of time. When there’s so much to juggle - work, family, children’s education, where is the time to think about this? Some were so busy that they shut the door in my face as if I were just another annoying salesman. Some people did welcome me, but they too filled me with their tales of cynicism and everything else that was wrong in the place. Many also said yes and they would be willing to work on this. But still, there is a stepping back, a lack of drive when it asks for more than just words. 

While the challenges of confronting minds are many, it’s heartening to observe that the floods have lit a flame of passion in people. Many have this burning intensity to do something about this. Maybe because they worked from their hearts selflessly during the floods for strangers or maybe having analyzed in their minds that the destruction caused by the floods was because of human action, they want to change this. I find there are many who want this but they know not how. At the same time, inertia and the comfort of not doing anything is pulling them back. It would take a lot of confident and strong hands to get them to the fighting side.

Many such hands have been and are at work at attacking this problem from angles many. Here are a few that I learnt of...

In the Past…

Exnora

How can we forget the fervor initiated by street welfare associations of the 90s? Starting in 1989, the organization branched all over the city with the goal of making it green and clean. But why has their presence diminished? Even on their website, there’s hardly any activity since 2013. Have we changed as a city? Have they not been able to keep up with the dynamics of this internet driven world? Any organization working on this problem now needs to look at where this organization went and what they learnt, to continue to make a difference. 

Transparent Chennai

This was an action research organization, which conducted and produced a lot of meaningful results for Chennai. Their research, maps and articles on solid waste management contain a wealth of on-the-ground data and strategy for tackling this issue. They have closed operations as of 2014 but some of the team members are continuing their work through the Citizen Consumer andCivic Action Group.

At the moment…

KabadiwallaConnect

A social enterprise that focuses on the ‘Recycle’ segment of this cycle and attempts to connect the customers to the nearest recycler. Their aesthetically well done website exudes the freshness of youth and the promise of hope. Their upcykle store is yet to open but it seems the right fit for our artists aspiring to elevate things from the domain of dirt to the realm of art. Especially impressive is their research and mapping abilities which holds the promise of extending it not just to recyclers but also to all other stakeholders involved.

Friends of Chennai

An initiative started by The Hindu, which aims to bring out the various infrastructure problems in the city. As of now, there are more than 500 stories and 1950 activists listed on the site. This forum needs to be appreciated for giving a space for citizens to tell the world what's wrong around them. I only fear that people may become satisfied with simply ranting and not bothering about taking constructive action. While that could happen, this also holds the promise of ensuring accountability if ways are found to expand beyond reporting towards action. 

Vettiver Collective

Whenever I talk to people working on this area, this name keeps popping up. I have come to learn that they are a group of activists working on various environmental issues towards inspiring citizens to act for their environment. 

Ask the Neighbors…

Siruthuli

Siru thuli (a little drop) is an environmental NGO from Kovai, which works towards changing Garbage to Green and is helping communities to close in on the gap to zero waste. 

DailyDump

Daily dump is a start-up in Bangalore that focuses on the ‘Compost’ segment of this cycle. They produce composters for various needs as well as offer services to install the same in households and apartment complexes. They have outlets and franchises in Chennai. The Dailydump site and Youtube channel have many videos and links that makes you say, ‘Oh, that seems so easy!’ 

Sowing seeds of awareness…

Chennai Trekking Club

A group that is well known for its annual Chennai coastal cleanup initiatives.

Environmental Foundation of India

They focus on reclaiming the rivers and lakes, among other awareness programmes.

The Ugly Indian

A quirky initiative which believes in doing and showing by example. Cleaning a street, changing the look of a place, literally illustrating that change is possible. 

In addition, there are pockets of neighborhood activists who have been or are attempting to implement effective waste management even as I write this. An MRC Nagar community, CleanKotturpuram Campaign, Shanti Ulhas from Mahalingapuram are some names I have come across, who make hope burn brighter. No doubt there are many more doing this silently in their homes and apartment complexes. A salute to each and every one of them! You may climb the Everest, you may even fly to Mars but the ultimate challenge lies in changing people’s minds. These organizations and communities need something to feed their passion. What will we give them? Our time? Our money? Our minds? Our efforts? A question each one must ask of oneself, if we want to move to a different tomorrow.

Of our future…

Although the trajectory of today isn't exactly heading to a clean and green future, can we try to reimagine a different tomorrow? Isn't it still possible to conceive of a day when...

As you fly into the city, green smiles at you from every rooftop; 

Laughing children fill the groves of what were once the landfills in Perungudi and Kodungaiyur; 

IT employees turn farmers too, all in a day’s work.

Here's to doing all it takes to get to this 'The End'!

[Reflections] As you beckon with love...

The everyday death; the fountainhead of life; the doctor of troubles; the priest of desires; the undertaker of the past; the foreteller of the future - What would we be without you, O Sleep! 

Isn’t it often said that one must forget sleep to make dreams come true? Do you think so? Don’t we find our lives going for a toss, if we do just that, no matter how aligned we are to our dreams. Perhaps, the saying is just to remind you that just dreaming won’t get you what you want. Perhaps, sleep here is the kind of sleep we do with eyes open - in refusing to do what’s good; In refusing to give up what’s not right.

What happens when one has to lose a lot of sleep, all the time? Volcanoes burst in the head at the merest trifles. It’s like setting a forest fire to light a lamp. On the other hand, after a night of calming sleep, even mountains seem moveable. Winds of serenity and waves of creativity flow within the soul.

An image of a classroom pops up. It’s the dreaded afternoon hour after lunch. The professor is going on about some little facet of study that is going to be of no use in another three years. They must buy his voice for those sleep lab demos. Instant soporific! Our friend, after a night of late-night partying in the hostel, seems to be tightrope walking between conking out and keeping eyes open. There, gravity wins and a head suddenly plonks on the desk! Next instant, a chalk lands on his head. Bulls-eye! They must ship off the professor to ISRO. What a precise launch and landing! A wave of muffled laughter pulses through the class. Another image of a conference room and a comatose colleague flashes by. Sleep sure has entertained us in more ways than one!

It’s my guess that the lack of sleep somehow has a huge role to play in half the wars happening around the world. Speaking of which, among warring couples, one might have the philosophy that says, ‘Stay up till you finish the fight!’

And, the other may say, ‘No talking in the night!’

‘How can you sleep now, with all these issues burning? one rages.

‘How can you want to talk, when your mind can’t find meaning?’ another responds.

This second speaker, no matter what his/her flaws may be, has won the argument hands down. Best thing would be to set a calendar reminder for the next morning to finish the fight and take one’s troubles to one’s own counselor, Dr. Sleep!

Isn’t sleep the one territory in which one reigns supreme? In spite of Inception The Movie, I don’t think there’s any way to enter another’s dreams, no matter how much one may want it. The only way is to be around a person, in a good or bad way and that person’s mind will decide if you make a difference enough to be let in and either way, you never know if you have been let in. In there, lies many valuable lessons. If, in sleep, when we have no control, we let no one into our minds, then why do we, when we are conscious and in control, let people and their words, actions and thoughts affect us? Why not learn to let it all pass like a dream even when awake. And, when a day of this is done, remember not to keep that lover called sleep waiting…

[Reflections] An Ode to Philia

Who is a friend? Someone who first comes to your mind when you see those hilarious Whatsapp memes? Someone whose face flits by when you are feeling down in the dumps? That one person who has been there for a long time? One of those many people who were there at different points in time? Someone who lives only in your memory? Someone you are living with, everyday? Someone you play a badminton game with? Someone you have long arguments with? Someone you laugh with? Someone on whose shoulders you cry on? Someone you felt an instant connection with? Someone you lost over the years? You’re right! There is no single answer, rule, logic or formula to have or be a friend. Even when nothing much is happening in the here and now, a friend still inspires that inexpressible feeling that makes you feel you’re alright.

Meeting and making a friend is as miraculous as being born, as falling in love! How did you happen to be at a place and time and with a certain attitude and mood to attract such a person into your life? What are the odds of something like that happening? Perhaps even the smallest, most irrelevant decision at some point in life could have made you meet or lose someone. It’s hard to imagine who we’ll be without that friend who was maybe there only briefly. What we know not, we cannot miss. What we know, we cannot bear to miss!

At one point in life, we couldn’t imagine a day passing without meeting a certain person. With that same person, months and even years now pass without a single word. When life seems to squeeze us from all directions, sometimes we decide reaching out to friends is more than we can handle. One lives life like a modern Robinson Crusoe, self-marooned in a concrete jungle. Yet, even when everything is going well, there seems to hang an air of desolation. An emptiness yearning for the echo of friendship!

Some friends are lost to distance and some to time. Some bridges have broken down beyond repair and the chasm seems too wide to cross. Perhaps, all you can do is to send a silent wish: ‘Our lives have got in between us. But I wish you well for the good you once did.’ Some other bridges are still hanging in there… by a few strands. You know that because those luscious once-upon-a-time memories are getting vague like an uncared-for painting with color fading, contours mingling and just a blur of the old glory remaining in your mind.  

As one finds many such bridges giving way, winds of loneliness swirl through the gaps and the mind seems to torment in a thunderous voice, ‘You are all one. You will always be alone’. You cannot reign over your mind if you fight it as if it were a devil in disguise. But if you can see that it’s a little child, a little you, throwing a tantrum, crying for a real friend, then you have hope. Go on, write that letter, make that call and you will know, how that act can change you around. To see dreams like yours hidden within one; To feel the joy of togetherness in another’s family; To bask in the affection of a long-forgotten voice; To hold one’s hand in listening to an ordeal faced; To celebrate the miracle of being blessed in trying circumstances. Feel yourself become so very light and rejoice in your capacity to love beyond your flesh and blood and watch it ripple outward to all of humanity.  

[Reflections] A sack on your back!

Ever get the feeling you are stooping low even when there’s nothing on your back? Ever feel as if something is pulling you down and you can’t see what? Look deeply and you will find an imaginary sack on your mind’s back. The sack started piling stuff in, a long while ago, even before you knew it. Perhaps, when as a baby you were howling with pain and somehow there was no one to pick you up and comfort. Perhaps, when as a child, you had built that amazing sand castle and the people with you were too engrossed in their conversations to notice; Perhaps, as a teenager, when you were ignored or worse, insulted by a group to which you wanted to belong; Perhaps, in all those little and big blows in your relationships; All the dents and bumps you’ve ever received from life. And so, the sack has been filling up by itself. Like that unassuming frog, sitting in water turning hot, the piling weight does not come to our attention at individual moments. Collectively, it starts to wear us down in our work, in our personal lives, in our relationships and in our yearning to do more and be more. 

What then should one do with this pile? It seems like there is no way out of filling it and no way out of being pulled down by its weight? The mind’s hand automatically reaches out to those damaging stones that come labeled as regret, negativity, rejection, failure, loss and on and on. Why does it do it? Perhaps it thinks, ‘This is no stone! It’s a memory and it could be something precious!’ Perhaps, it says to itself, ‘I may not understand it now but if I hold on to it, in time, I’ll mine the diamond out of it!’ And so, the sack bulges!

How can we rise above this burden and stand tall? Can we ever walk upright? Is there a way we can refuse to accept these rocks given to us by life? Can we learn to say, ‘No, thank you! This is of no use to me now or ever’? But if we do that, won’t we miss the lessons of life? Or, do you think we can examine our sacks, sort and throw away all the useless stuff of the past lurking in there? Do we have the time, the patience and the strength to do that?

It doesn’t seem right to throw away every one of those stones for there may indeed be diamonds in them, hidden somewhere. It would be a tragedy to have a ‘spotless mind’, wouldn’t it? Jim Carrey and Kate Winslet would vouch for this. So, we can’t simply dump our sack into the river of amnesia. And in other times, it’s too painful to even look and sort out the dry deserts and fertile forests amongst these. Peering closer, there seems to be another path on this valley of possibilities. Why not become modern alchemists, not to make gold of the sand in the world, but to make feathers of these stones in our sack? Why can’t we all learn the art of making art with our pain? Yes, it may seem beyond us. But stirring that pot of gooey goodness in us and pouring plenty of positivity, we can surely create this magic potion and in no time, our stones will become feathers!

Then just wait and watch the weightlessness of your sack lift your spirit and life. See it make you fly high, far beyond your ‘Can I?'

[Reflections] A life of learning!

Imagine you were a student living thousands of years ago. How would you further your knowledge? You would seek out a Guru, eat with him, travel with him, wash his clothes and clean his home and in return for your services, he would condescend to share his knowledge with you. This knowledge was sealed tight in the cryptogram of classical languages, far from the reach of the common man. Talking of linguistic cryptograms, remember the Q.E.D we used to write at the end of our geometry theorems! I doubt if we had any idea about what this meant then but we plugged it in anyway. Later, if we had the inclination to investigate such childhood oddities, we came to know that it stood for ‘quod erat demonstrandum’, which was a fancy way of saying, ‘Remember, this is the thing we were going to prove!’ As if we were sitting in ancient Rome and studying under a Latin philosopher! Coming back home to our own learning scene, sometimes, as in the case of Ekalavya, a Guru could easily refuse a student, no matter how sincere he was. There are many Ekalavyas today too. If not for any isolatable reason, just for the omnipresent one called numbers. Consider how many young and old people aspiring to learn, live in our country. Consider how many centres of learning - universities and colleges, there are. So, no wonder, the overburdened lords and ladies of our seats of learning choose to find ways to say more no’s than yeses. Many a student has been turned away from their doors, although a passion burnt inside to learn. These heartbroken souls must first mourn their losses, but should soon realize that the centres of learning are now right in front of them - in the form of their laptops and smartphones. Walk up to Coursera, EdX, Udemy, and you are sure to find worlds opening up. Whatever it is you want to learn, be it the recipe of an apple pie or the significance of the mathematical pi, one needs to look no further. Personally, I have had a joyful experience on this path. The first course that I took was ‘Anthropology of Current World Issues’, offered on EdX by The University of Queensland, Australia. It was an elegant introduction to the study of human beings. All about the differences, the similarities, the paradoxes, the parallels of cultures around the world. Every week, the course would take me to a different part of the world and make me understand how the people of that land face a world issue they locally have, through the eyes of anthropologists who work with them. Through this course, I was introduced to the many approaches in anthropology through interviews with inspiring anthropologists across the world. The course had what is referred to as ‘opinion maps’ and on these maps of the world, you could see the views of students everywhere from Colombia to China. These online education portals do have a way of bringing the world as one. One learns not just a course but to learn about oneself and the world. Just like Ekalavya made a mud statue of the teacher who refused to teach him and went on to teach himself and become a master of that, you too can do the same with your metal university. There is no need for you to break down with tears when they find reasons not to open those ivory gates. When the world is in your hands, why yearn for walls?

[Reflections] Memory Mine!

Memories… When thinking about this, the first vision that flashes before my mind is that of Murugesan Thaatha, my husband’s late maternal grandfather. An extraordinary person with a phenomenal memory! He had the ability to store and bring to fore, not just the name of any person he had met, but also the names of that person’s father, mother, siblings, spouse and children. He always touched my heart by remembering my late father. I can never forget those memories of him saying my father’s name every time we met and adding that he was still living within me. Such an exquisite character, the mere memory of whom makes you feel warm and loved!

Why do we have the ability to remember a certain look, a far-away smile, as if it happened just then? Why is that certain memories seem to flood you with the exact sensations you felt when those memories were first formed, even if it comes back after many years? Matchless is that scintillating feeling of savouring certain memories. I think the movie ‘Inside Out’ did perfect justice to our understanding of this. This movie, I imagine, being a metaphorical letter ending, ‘Yours Artistically, The Science of Human Mind’. 

Why is this long-ago memory so vivid? The one of my nine-year-old sister coming home bleeding in the head, having taken a fall from the bus, while I was a three-year-old pedalling a tri-cycle in the verandah before my house, wearing a black dress with little yellow flowers. Amazed that in this first memory of mine, I’m there. What I was wearing, how I was looking, as if I was looking at me, from outside. As if this 35-year-old me was observing that three-year-old and imprinting this observation as a memory in that three-year-old’s head. In some ways, it’s mind-boggling. Another childhood memory flashes by, that of a disastrous first attempt at oratory. The very first oratorical competition I participated was on the topic ‘My pet’ in my second grade, an inter-class event. I remember fumbling and faltering over it, feeling terrible. From there, I remember acing every other oratorical competition in all my years of schooling in that town. So many claps, so many pats on the back but nothing as fresh as that first failure.

Does stress destroy your memories? My greatest fear at times is that of being unable to form memories. I do feel the quality of memories is not so fine as that of the past. I guess I sound like a middle-aged uncle saying, ‘You call that music! When I was young, the kind of songs I listened to! Pch! Those were the days of music!’ Kidding apart, analyzing with a clinical eye, perhaps it’s the lack of time and attention. The moments when I paused and forgot all that had to be done and when I was just fully in that moment, that’s when the finest of memories formed. Like that one day after a sad incident, when sitting on my terrace, looking at the floor below, as I wiped my tear-filled eyes and I looked up, right there in my line of sight was a rainbow. I can never forget that moment. It felt like the whisper of the universe. Or, like that moment when I woke up at Rishikesh and walking out of my bus, the mountain air embracing me, the rising sun shyly greeting me, in the witness of the crimson earth and the azure sky, I touched the cool Ganges. That is imprinted as if on stone. 

The memory of a certain lanky twenty-year old, whose name I have taken, and his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, as he looked at me, not hiding the love in his eyes, is a delightful one indeed. There’s another one connected to this one, in more ways than one! It’s a memory of holding my newborn close to me. Of course, he was closer within but not as close as then. That wriggly, blood stained, crying little thing with the ability to make you fall in love instantly. An unbelievably magical moment!

Memories of every kind lie within us all. Kind of like precious gems, buried in unexpected places, each one outdoing the next, each one right for a different occasion, if you know where to seek. Instead of piling gold and diamonds in one’s bank locker, one should learn the art of collecting these little gems. Refine the skill of reaching out within the mind and picking a forgotten one, dusting it just a little and placing it before the mind’s eye and basking in the glory of what one possesses. That something that nothing can take away! Make those memories! Even when all is lost, your memories and your ability to make them will make you richer than the richest person on earth. Happy collecting!

[Reflections] On the Endangered Species of Readers!

What would books be without readers? Like the question of whether the noise of a tree falling exists even if there is no one to hear it, will books still be written if there was no one to read them? Still, imagine a world where no one reads, why would there be writing? Will man still seek to express even if there is no way for it to be received? Beyond such metaphysical questions, it’s fascinating how the concept of reading has changed over the last few decades.

Not a long while ago, one had that exquisite time to curl with a book and just be lost in a new world. There was no mobile ringing near your heart. There was no apple watch tapping you on your wrist. No status message to post. No profile photo to update. No need to post a message saying “ Awesome ‘The Twins at St. Clares’! #NowReading”. You were content with your inner ‘you’ interacting silently with the characters and their conflicts. It was just you and your book. Yes, your mom was often heard shouting, asking you to sit up straight. Yes, you didn’t know what the food on your plate tasted like, caught in the conversation between your beloved characters. Still, that was a pleasure you had the privilege of enjoying. Personally, I’m grateful for that. That has undoubtedly made me who I am. That gave me the power to understand emotions, complicated and contradictory. The layers to what a person thinks, says and does, all revealed in beautiful writing, which I had the time to delve into. 

Fast forwarding to now, every minute, there seems to be an overload of things to catch up on Facebook, Twitter, Quora. One seems to be in an urgent need to digest information bombarding from multiple directions. Bring to your mind all the books you have read and have the titles of each chapter of those books flash at you, all in an hour’s interval. That’s the current situation for readers now. Where is the time to let go of yourself in books, given that you’ll lose a day’s worth of Timeline updates? 

In many ways, I see the fate of reading similar to that of listening. Once upon a time, we knew how to be completely silent and let the speaker do the talking. We learnt that from our long hours with books. Now, it seems so hard to listen to someone. The pressing need to critique, comment, opine instantly, exert tremendous pressure on your head. You feel distracted by thoughts racing up there- things you want to say in reply, things you think are related to this, things someone posted regarding this, and you end up losing the nuance of what is being said and how it’s being said. 

A hurried world, indeed! From 1000 page novels to 1000 word blogs to 144 characters tweets, our attention spans have shrunk to XS size. Perhaps, a day will come when future humans will consider even those tweet readers as having phenomenal patience. Perhaps, all they will be able to digest will be small words and emoticons. If an emoji is the Oxford Dictionary’s word of this year, it isn’t too hard to imagine that future. Still, what a loss! No matter how much more information I seem to receive now, no matter how much I’m updated with all that’s happening all over the world in a single glance, everything seems so superficial and transient. Deep reflections are fast fading. I long for those days when I could be one with a book, lost to this world but observing another one, creating those landscapes and ‘mindscapes' in my own mind. All that breaking into goose bumps, dilating of pupils, shuddering in fear, shaking in anger, tears pouring down and the minute bands in the entire spectrum of feelings that can never be simulated no matter how long one spends on social media. 

This is also an opportunity for a heartfelt tribute to the readers of my blog, who have stayed with me, whether I wrote or not, even during times I got lost in the pursuits of my life, waiting for me, writing to me, persisting and insisting that I write again. They moved me and brought me back here. Such is the preciousness of a sincere reader. Long live! 

[Reflections] On Movies that Move and Move not!

Why are there certain movies that you’d like to live forever in and others that you want to run away from, in a few minutes? Is it about you or is it about the movie? You, in that time and place? Shouldn’t really good movies take you away, no matter where you are and what you are going through? Am I ascribing too much power to a movie? I only say so, because there have been movies that I simply lost myself in. Forgot what I was feeling momentarily, lost in the world and emotions of the characters. You find yourself teleported into the maze of human emotions. What really grounds me to a movie is truth. It comes from a place deep within one, which says ‘Yes, this works’ & ‘No, it doesn’t’. It’s pretty much an on-off switch. In certain bad movies, you can turn your attention to beautiful things of course. For instance, the cinematography might have such a sensuous quality but it’s just like looking at a pretty screen with nothing on and nothing outside the window either. It can hold your attention only for so long. Sometimes, a character is spectacular. He tries to pull the movie with his extraordinary performance. But, the movie falls to budge. For the sleek wheels on which the movie flies, is its story and the screenplay. It’s a duet of the two. The What and How! Sometimes, the story may be spectacular. Good, but still not as good as how it is, with the right screenplay. It’s the subtle art of ‘when to tell what needs to be told’. A certain confusion, a muddling of things, contradictory viewpoints, even an open-ended ending can turn the entire movie upside down. Awesome is the power of a movie to create unimaginable worlds. It’s been a drug ever since it was found. The mediums are changing. Why am I a fan of movies and not TV? Some people liken TV watching to the primitive fire gazing at the end of the day. Although I remember being fascinated by it, as a child, those He-man cartoons on Sunday mornings, the dripping-sad regional movies on the same afternoons, the Mahabaratha and the Ramayana and in later days, ‘Oliyum Oliyum’, which played all the latest film songs and it used to be the catastrophe of the week if the power went off at that time. Watching some of those same songs, by accident these days, makes you scream in laughter. Makes you shake your head in disbelief that you once enjoyed those things. Well, coming back, TV is a strict no-no. Although certain TV Series from US and UK has had us all captivated, of late. Still, it can’t hold a candle to a good movie. The stress is on ‘good’. There are only certain movies that seem to come at exactly the right time. At times, you find something you were battling with, solved subconsciously by a movie or even a scene in a movie. Some movies have that power to inspire and elevate you. Some movies make beautiful things out of the mundane. Some movies delve so deep into complex emotions and leave you wanting for more. But these are few and far between. In the battle between being business and art, many movies fail the ‘truth’ test. For the businessmen, it’s a lottery. For the aesthetically inclined, it’s a compromise. But few are the movies that take your breath away like a pristine island and in your search for one such, perhaps it’s worthwhile to wade through murky waters.

[Reflections] A long-lost love!

Why did I leave you long ago, amidst the whiteness of silence? Why did I shake your hands off and run away when there was so much life in us?

Those innocent, instinctive, instantaneous moments of magic we shared! I would simple decide to come near you and we connected; we bloomed; we flowed; we laughed with joy.

Do you remember the time when we sang about the breeze of bliss? Or that time when we painted the ocean of awe? Oh yes, that time when we danced to the crackling fire of passion? In spite of this euphoria, I kept saying we are not meant for each other. It seemed too good to be true. I kept running away from you, in search of something else. Nay! In search of you in something else.

Peering into the past, those decades ago, when we first met. In that moment we got to know each other, it felt so right. As natural as breathing. But, as if it were a powerful breath that could bring alive every cell within. As our fingers touched, we weaved new worlds. 

Still, I was not a loyal lover. I kept running away to have many an affair, it would seem. My excuse was those voices within that said, I must listen to what the world was saying. There it was, proclaiming, “Your love cannot be!” Shouting furiously, “There is no future in your love.” I am ashamed to say I let them convince me and so I kept running away from you.

Every single time, I tried to see you in others.

‘Yes, those eyes, right there. That will do.’

‘There’s a little of that smile. That will do.’

‘Don’t I see the shade of those hands? That will do.’

And so, I roamed, lost in the wilderness, searching, searching for you in everyone, and seeing not that you stood right there.

And that last one. It seemed as if there was a lot of you in there. It was almost a mirror image of yourself. “This is it! I have finally found you elsewhere”, I declared. Heart and soul, I jumped right in. Day after day, I kept moving towards that. But gradually, meaning was moving out of my life. It was not you. Turned out to be just a reflection of you… An illusion that pretended to be you. I shattered that mirror when I understood it was taking me farther and farther away from you. Making me lose my confidence in myself… In us. In what we could be. Why hanker after these bits and parts, when you are standing there, right before me? Why you in everything else? Why not simply you? Isn’t there a way to be one again?

Although I’m back here, it feels a little strange. All those years away making it different. I’m hesitant. I wonder often if I’m saying the right thing. I wonder if I can again, make you sing. I reminisce about our days, past. The way we talked. The way the world danced to our music. I worry about our days, future. Will I keep up with you, wherever this winding road leads? Will I take you places and let you touch hearts? The wise of the universe look at me and say, “Just be!” So, I dive into the entirety of this now, where we have dared to be together. Listening to the beat of the heart within and the beat of the keys without. I have decided to hold hands with this love of mine and waltz away. Yes, I have decided to write.

[Reflections] I Songs : In their Elements

I have been floating in the womb of work and family, these past few months, forgetting to write. The songs of 'I' have woken me from my pregnant silence and this is that newborn's first cry!

I can't say I'm a meticulous music listener. In the past, I've listened to songs that happened to fall on my ears and that was all! My interactions usually stop with the occasional quoting of favorite lines in a song or citing an interesting concept around it. But as I listened to the songs of I, taking my own time, forgetting everything I had on my 'to-do' list and letting myself go, I felt the dots connecting into something magical right before my eyes and all I wanted was to capture this ecstatic experience in words. 

Let me see if I can show you what I saw, felt, touched and tasted in this album, one song at a time.

1. Mersalaayitten:  There I was... a 5 year old, jumping into a muddy puddle up and down, up and down, down and up in rhythm with the beats. The sound of the raw words in 'Madras Bashai' (Chennai slang), the sight of an omelette on a dark dosa pan as well as the rainbow colored lungi, the smell of fresh paint on the horns of a bull, the touch of a washerman's bundle of moon... So very earthy! The whole song was like clutching a handful of Marina sand and joyfully scattering it in the wind.

2. Ennodu Nee Irunthal: Wings sprouting and next minute, up there, touching the sky. Every note rises higher and higher, taking you through all the layers up above. The words help you to fit that unfathomable music just like how you fit those cloud shapes into that of a coconut, a crocodile and all that catches your fancy, in an attempt to make sense of the vast and all encompassing sky and the feeling of just needing nothing but one person in life. Now and then, catching a glimpse of the splash of colors in the horizon. Towards the end, there is a distant rumble of thunder and a feeling of getting drenched in the purest of rains, at the moment of their birth. The song ends with the words 'Ennodu Nee Illa Ulagathil Naan Vaazha Maatene' (I will not live in a world that doesn't have you with me)... and to me, it seemed like a word-perfect metaphor for an impossibility of life in this world without the sky. 

3. Ladio: A blazing fire, dancing lights and sizzling heat. How better to describe a dazzling lady! Hard to see the substance when something shines so brilliantly with so much beauty on the outside. It may look like an exciting display of fireworks but it isn't just that. Look close and you will see the warmth of a campfire on a cold night in those mellifluous pure Tamil words glowing amidst the embers. Think of the fire of life, the fire in eyes that love, the fire of a heart that wants to create and you will see beyond the razzle-dazzle of her outer musical beauty, that this is a girl who will set not just hearts but minds too, on fire.

4. Pookale: A breeze... a beautiful breeze that plays with the locks of your hair in a fragrant garden; A gushing wind on a terrace that surrounds to cool you when you are burning within. 'Aval Vanthuvittal' (She is here) like the breath of a loved one! The very breath of beauty. Oh, and how she does toss and turn you around, surprising you with her touch and her fragrance.  The beauty of beauties! Like the beautiful breath of a newborn baby and the last breath of a dying man. Poetic! As this song vibrates within, it makes you wonder if you are human or the most perfect wind instrument ever invented. When the song talks about the man, it feels like a morning breeze that wakes up the world and when about the woman, it feels like the evening breeze that soothes the world to sleep. A song that truly does 'give a life, anew' ('maru uyir thanthal').

5. Ayla: By now, you must have got the 'drift'. This one is a glacial stream travelling at a racy speed, at times a leaping waterfall, at times, a cute little pond and at a turn, a deep lake and in all its forms, meandering away to be an ocean. A song of surprises. At times, you hear a pristine Swiss lake as the opera notes soar and at others, a jolly pond of 'Dandanaka' drum beats, coexisting delightfully together. The stream does wash you and makes you say 'Menmai Seythai' (You rendered me soft). Twinkling with 'Siri thuli', this is indeed, an ocean of 'smile drops'. 

In my eyes, I's songs are beautifully complex and complexly beautiful as those other things forged of the five elements... This world and You and I!