A Starry Sky

An hour ago I cried
At the thoughtless thoughts
Of my mindless mind
And incessant buzz
Of crude connections
Wired and wireless
Which firmed up and fractured
Into a dozen cracks
Now visible in creases
Ageing around my eyes.

Eyes, eyes have water
Not tears, but water
Pure, watery water
Flowing in frenzy
Down and out
As if gravity were a better friend
Than I could ever be
As water flowed out
Memories settled in
Calm gathered,
I scribbled a message of hope
And hope sure is sinless sin.

Sin was it.
To love and be loved.
Then tear and be torn
Into a million stars
Which now light the darkness
Of this ephemeral, and eternal
Existence.

Existence is a starry sky
With dark as its cloak
And night as its cradle. 

Pic Credits - @TheWishingChair

Sonnet II - The Eye Which Closed

A fierce stare, ambling, crawling up

The scar which charred her happy visage

Sour tea bubbling in her brittle cup

She drinks and smiles at the grand mirage

A hand then grips and clutches hard

To press the open wound which oozed

Not blood, just bloodless hymns that start

Talking, while she looks on, amused. 

In a chamber overwhelmed by violence

Of subsurface thoughts felt too deeply

She tries hard to shrug the piercing lens

The whiteness spreading its fangs ornately

The mirror, the frames, the sights weakened, tore asunder

Calming, she closed her eyes, to travel through wonder.

The comment I left at the exhibition

For all those who could not head out to Triveni Kala Sangam in the week that went by, they missed the sight of sheer magic being splashed on the pristine white walls of the Shridharini Art Gallery. The magic was keen, curious, penetrating, and, as they say, stupid! An exhibition of photographs by the name of "Stupid Eye" was on at the venue, where in, a veteran psychologist - Harsheen K. Arora, and a seasoned photographer - Vipul Amar, had collaborated to undertake an intense journey through the inner selves of fourteen people and then paint them out impeccably in front of the world through breathtaking photography. The frames, which were the net result of the inner journey of these people aimed at finding and liberating their true selves, were devastatingly beautiful. At first, they were just frames which you would interpret. Later, they became fields where you would try to locate yourself, or your experiences. How an event trapped inside four walls can be liberating for the creative and the unexplored that hides inside you - this could be learnt at Stupid Eye.

These booklets had all the stories, sans which, my experience at the exhibition would have been incomplete. 

The above sonnet-structured poem was scribbled in a mute response to when Prayas asked me as to what I found there, and if I could locate myself in any of the frames. I failed to do so. I am one of those who is scared of discovering too much - I find my liberation in uncertainties. A picture, too clear, eliminates the possibility of fascinating interpretations - and if the possibility of impossible fancies vanishes from life, it doesn't augur brightly for me. And I seek bright. Blurry, okay, but bright. For some, the frames presented a figment of reality which they thought reflected off their past, or their inner self. For me, the frames served to shut out much, and delve within myself, happy in the cloistered, yet connected existence. And amid this rant, I am stupid if I forgot to tell you that Prayas is that dear friend because of whom Stupid Eye became a rather personal (albeit short) experience. He is among those people who charm you, and make you feel comfortable with the warmth they exude. Its a pleasure to know him.

Posing with Prayas, or one of his manifestations.

I met some tremendously fascinating people up at the exhibition, engaged in insightful dialogues. Harsheen ma'am and Vipul sir were gracious hosts, not refusing anyone an audience, discussing freely what went into conceiving an executing the Stupid Eye project. The opinions of attendees were given weight; there was no one who could stand there and feel wrong. Welcoming smiles and warm hugs - they were my fond takeaways from the brilliant people I met there.

The creators and their creation

So yes, the time I spent at Stupid Eye exhibition was fabulous. It will stay with me. The grand event was made more special because two of my very dear kids - Kamal and Vaibhav - won an art event conducted by the organizers. At the end of this post, I leave you with a gorgeous interpretation of 'Stupid Eye' as painted by Kamal, a kid in whose growth and achievements I take personal pride. And Vaibhav, you deserve another treat.

And Then...

And then,

A silkworm cocooned and marooned on a leaf, 

Would know of its power with which to weave,

Silk that would last more than a century,

Silk to change grotesque into pretty.

And then,

A butterfly flapping its large wings vibrant,

Hurriedly pursuing nectar and scents,

Would know of the power encased in its form,

The power to unleash a mighty storm.

And then, 

A man caught unaware in the grind,

Burning within with a will to drive - 

Darkness out and light a candle, 

Would know of the power with which to handle

The desire to change the world as we know,

Into a land where virtues flow. 

And then, it glowed!

Naive in thought, and usage of words, the above poem had to make it here because it was the first time I composed something during an exam! Yes, so, a souvenir from there.

Picture credits - Madhurjya Saikia. I have already told you guys he is a superlative photographer, not something to forget.