Once in a while...

     


                    Once in a while..

I met myself after a while
yesterday,
And unlike the while that often pauses to greet you
This was the one that made you pause..and say
"Oh well.. it's been a while."

Where and when..I do not know
A time and place I cannot name..
But there I wanted to remain..
Because within that obscure space and time
Had I paused to greet myself..
And exchange a few warm smiles.

And now I wait..
In hopes that I will retain
The surprise,the worry,the tensed brow and that smile..
Until I make my visit again..

I remain hopeful,
For you see...
I might just pass across that time
When I open an old diary
Flip through it's yellow pages
And read this poem to myself.

That place would I forever seek..
And I wish someone could tell
of  that space where you're tensed but smile
And meet yourself once in a while!

       
                         

 

                       

Glimpses

I have been to the hills..I have been here and been bewitched by the beauty and the calm the first time I came here. I was young..but I distinctly remember the strangeness I felt..I was young..too young to appreciate what the hills offered me. The strangeness was such that even at that young age..I wanted to be back to experience it.
The hills are mysterious we hear that often. I attempt to read and understand this mystery eversince that first visit..but every time I return a little more curious than before. Yesterday I got to peep into that old strangeness a little...I  realized that every time I came here..curious to know more..I was missing out on an important element..the people.
I got to meet them yesterday. They spoke about their ways of life..the life they lead in the hills. I realized that I have been so distant in my attempts in understanding that strangeness in the hills.I had certainly failed to realize that I would feed my  curiosity and know more if I was able to read the stories these hills had to tell. I was partially introduced to these stories through the village women..who were kind enough to welcome me and allowed me certain glimpses into their life. I won't write about how hospitable and nice they were to me..no amount of adjectives would able me to express how they impressed me.I was a stranger to them..and while they looked at me with a curiosity that told me that I was the strange element to them..nonetheless they made me feel at home. They lead simple lives..and there was an honesty that reflected in every tale they narrated to me. The place held and resonated that same honesty that permeated through these people. For instance..the name..it was called cherer dhar..with respect to the water stream that flows from there. As honest and simple as this name was..so were the people.
They spoke endlessly while we were there..while writing this I am conscious of how English as a language is unable to capture them and narrate all that I experienced with them. But I am helpless..I have only been educated to use this foreign language. And though I realize that it limits me and restricts me in describing these people who are too distant to be captured by this..I can only attempt to do so.
They never spoke of their education..but the insights that they had about life could surpass that of any Foucault or Rousseau. "If you don't have thoughts..you'll be happy. It's only when..you think you need ghee or butter that you feel unhappy at not having it. The more you separate yourselves from these thoughts..you simply stay happy". I knew she hadn't read this piece of wisdom...it was more..she was speaking from her experience and understanding. I wish I could note down..everything they said.because these women knew a lot..a lot more than this system of education would ever offer to me.
They learnt about life..when they traveled miles for water..they learnt to value nature and respect it when they said that their treasure was that water they collected in their tanks...and the tanks..the tanks became their banks.I realized..they aren't merely a part of the hills..they are one with it. They help it stay alive..and preserve the pristine essence that is then offered to travelers like me. They were the hills and though the hills remain mysterious..I
was able to snatch a glimpse in it's mystery through them..

                                                       Faces

        (certain thoughts upon reading the first chapter of 'Norwegian wood')

 I just read the first chapter of Murakami's 'Norwegian wood'. A chapter isn't enough to declare one's love for a writer..but even then, I must admit that I am in love with the language he writes in. It maintains a simplicity but at the same time draws a picture so alive and absorbing the minute details of life..such that one can almost feel it. Of course, as I have only read the first chapter,it's too early for me to make any proud declarations or bring the discipline of a review into this writing..but nonetheless I was moved to write something upon it.The image that I hereby talk about is one,wherein the sunlight filtered through the branches of the trees,forms dancing patterns on Naoko's jacket as she moves ahead. It's not very unique indeed. The same image has been employed by various other writers and it was'nt the first time that I came across it. But Murakami, more than bringing out the poetic image of the sunlight tells me about the relationship between Toru and Naoko. I have just been introduced to these characters but I realize that he loved her so...not because he happens to notice the shadow of the patterns on her jacket but because he is reminded of her and that moment distinctively two decades later, as he sits on his flight listening to the Beatles song 'Norwegian Wood'. Suddenly I am aware that the admiration he had for this girl has traveled time and has probably intensified through the years.
And so the sole appreciation of the imagery wouldn't suffice to explain why a single chapter had impressed me. The psychological  intensity of the characters that is knotted along with this imagery is something that heightens the quality of Murakami's writing. And to realize that he en-captures all that with his simple language and within the first chapter of the novel..instills an admiration for the writer.
He goes on to discuss how Naoko made him promise that he won't ever forget her, and that he will  always have her in his memory.
He now realizes why she always asked him to make a promise that he will remember her. It's because she never loved him...
And now almost two decades later he is here,in a foreign land..left with the memory of the pattern of the leaves on her jacket and aware that the memory of her face is fading away with time..
Here, I paused my reading and wondered if I would be able to remember all the faces that I know now...quite as they are! Or would it change, disappear perhaps, just like Naoko slowly slipped away..leaving nothing but certain patterns of the shadow in her lover's mind.
(I don't know why I am a little conscious of the language that I use to write,even as it isn't a review..)
And I must admit to you that this thought has me bound to it and makes me a little uncomfortable.
He was definitely close to her, had made love to her and wanted to spend his life with her. But here he is, wondering if he can ever line up to his promise and hold on to her fading memory. The thought that someone that close could just slip away from our mind, leaves me to wonder what is it that  might remain in a relationship then! And if the person is slowly fading away from our thoughts, would we then be able to retain the love that we had felt for them..or maybe hold on to the times that we  had thought we couldn't be any more happier?
Maybe, the feelings don't fade and one is just able to hold on to the memory, and relive it because they have instilled and attached their own happiness to it. (We're all selfish beings trying to seek ways to traet ourselves to all these little pleasures that we can offer ourselves)The person who participated in creating that happy memory tends to matter less and slowly fades away...
And perhaps, this is the reason why Toru just remembers certain parts of the memories he made with Naoko. And again, happiness is just one feeling that we would like to bring back time and again.But I believe that 'feelings' in general would live on and one should just accept them and cherish it as long as they can.

But even as I say this...I so wish that I could keep the faces alive in these memories such that I don't have to feel guilty of plucking out the feelings alone so as to seek my pleasure in them. If only I could remember the faces..I might just feel a little less selfish and a little more at peace with myself...