In the Dying Light

#212

Absolutely.

For those few who don`t already know it, the photo is from Farzana`s gallery published on chowk about a year ago. I have personally found the gallery quite enriching and some of its images have inspired i-logs that I posted last year (but are no more in place now).

In many ways, stereotyping is the mind`s instinctive way of simplyfying things. Everyone does so - even scientists do so - giving it fancy names - but they hold it up for review and keep the possibility in mind that it may need fine-tuning and sometimes wholesale revision. As time passes, most simple people start thinking they have enough data points to construct THE model and start becoming too sure of themselves. At some point, people start throwing away data points which do not fit their pre-conceived models - then the newness starts to fade.

Then people go full-speed throwing ``answers`` instead of asking questions of themselves.

All natural lights die out eventually - as the source dries up - only the light of truth is eternal - and only that light is capable of showing everyone his or her path.

And its dawns are the brightest!

BJ:

You are supposed to give credit for the photograph.

And while everyone is entitled to their illusions, some need to not let their imagination become captive to stereotypes.

The Underdog



What makes a foreigner come to these steps and then assume the lotus position for what seems like an eternity?

I looked at the picture that my surroundings presented and could not move my gaze away. This was a substantial place.

The stone step on which I stood was a thing of substance, and like most such things it was made of hard physical material. There were objects all round – there was a clear sign in Hindi – “Sankatha Ghat”.

A kid who had appointed himself my local interpreter and accompanied me here watched me with an amused look on his face – an embodiment of the innocent if stereotypical native who has simple things on his mind. His young face contrasted sharply with the ageless pile of flat stone blocks which lay nearby.

This ghat was like any of the countless other ghats around – where the ashes get immersed – where the body gets returned to its permanent custodian, the nature – where it all ends – and perhaps also simultaneously begins in some ways. All those dead bodies floating downstream – now mere food for the fish and other lowly creatures of water – all those bodies had been real people at some point in time – people who lived, breathed and experienced lives of their own.

I was also real – with flesh and blood and muscles and also a mind of my own.

The ghat stared back. I stepped down a few steps then stopped. Those steps simply keep going down – till they vanish forever. What makes a foreigner like me come to these steps anyway – knowing fully well that with every step that I take I can only make myself lower and the final step inevitably drowns in that water?

I assumed my position and as I glanced over the lower steps, I could not help wondering about the last few steps. Constant contact with water makes that stone stronger even as a layer of emerald green moss glosses all over it. Without the water there won’t be any moss. But the water did not create the moss – the moss is eternal and needs little water. Yet it has been around for ages – it rarely dries up even in bright daylight and the scorching heat that such daylight can bring.

A lady in green sari pointed her camera at me. She smiled as she got ready to take a picture – the teeth were crooked. There was nothing special about this activity – people come here all the time and they snap shots at will. I wish she had not flashed that camera so directly into my eyes! In backing away during the picture taking, she almost slipped over the emerald green moss and splashed into that water – which she appeared unable or simply too scared to touch.

But the water sustains a lot more than the moss.

The water touches those hardened stones – the stones get soaked – the river water fills up every hollow pore and yet they remain immiscible. Water and stone – the absolute opposites and if one thinks about it, the everlasting adversaries! The stone that contains the water which is always impossible to contain – so all that the stone makes for is just a trivial impediment – the stone that has such a fixed shape and the water that can virtually assume absolutely any shape by simply filling it in – yet without such stones does the water really follow even a course or does it simply follow the topography of land, not to mention the terrain of fate as it simply gets absorbed by it – part of the underground never seen by those who walk on the earth?

What the water finds soft is what absorbs it and takes away its power. And the river is merely a body of water but this river is no ordinary river.

Rivers have sustained cities all around the world and they have sustained whole civilizations – this one certainly has!

People dump everything into it – the best of flowers and the most toxic of products. It is quietly accepting, yet all junk only disintegrates over time – or simply becomes a part of the body, sinking down to the level of sea-weeds – the river’s curing power stays intact – it perhaps only enhances.

It is mercurial. It can loose its way if trapped in the locks of Shiva’s hair, but even then it manages to find its course sooner or later.

It has seasons that are lean and it has seasons that flood but, unlike most of its tributaries, it maintains a steady course.

It takes away all the sins – mostly the sins merely sink deep down. – yet it never gives any of that stuff back – except for occasional on-the-surface splashes when one dumps objects in – and the splashes can leave you only a tiny bit wet – but they do not really hurt!

Who knows how many treasures lie buried under that smoothly flowing surface. Yet there are bones and charred remains – some partially burnt, some turned into ashes, some of them still very fresh. Kings and beggars – they all merge into a single body – reconciled at last in their ultimate futility. The river has seen countless moonlit nights and it has seen days of hot sunshine – for ages – and it remains ageless itself.

As I continued to look, the kid laughed, “sir, you are staring at the lady”.

Most people could sense something extraordinary about the river that flowed behind – yet some just did not think it was deep enough.

We are all entitled to our very own illusions!

(Note: Inspired by the article “In the Dying Light” by Farzana Versey, published on March 8, 2006.)

#206 Farzana
[People ARE like places. Kabhi bass jaatey hai…]

This reminds me of a dialog from an old Hindi movie (I forget the name) in which the late legend Mehmood – my personal favorite – acted

(Mehmood shows up at his father-in-law’s place unexpectedly)

(Enter Mehmood and his father-in-law)

Father-in-law (FIL) (Looking less than happy): How long are you going to stay here?

Mehmood (M) (Nonchalantly): Just a couple of days.

FIL (Perking up): Really, JUST two days?!!!

M (Nonchalantly): Janab, aap mera matlab naheen samjhe. Jindagi chaar dinon ki hoti hai.

(FIL collapses in dismay)

#206, Farzana {``PS: I believe you said somewhere you would not ever comment on my writings?? ``}

Farzana,
``Ever`` is too much of a commitment. I may have said that and I accept the charge of going back on a hasty promise. It`s hard to read good writing and not give the writer her just feedback. Please don`t ask me not to read your material from now on.

I would like to clarify that when I respond to interacts on the article it is as the writer of the piece and not the ``gatekeeper of Chowk``.

No strings attached, letting you roam free are what normal people understand as tongue-in-cheek comments.

No one has to read my ilogs; I mentioned it specifically to a pertinent query. Besides, that was written after this article, so there is no question of having to read that to understand this. The context was different. Never mind...

``No. I talked about imagination. Read before you leap. ``

Yes I do have all the imagination, I need to read your masterpiece. You better calm down your imagination and read my interact properly before you accuse me of ``If you do not believe in a god, then why blame her/him for things?`` Where did I say that?

``btw, I said I did not see dead bodies -- I did not mention Hindu bodies. ``

True, but you would expect dead Hindu bodies in a Hindu
temple not some dead Russian Orthodox christians. And you tell me I have no imagination!!!

`` If you had seen another side, you might have cherished them. But there is no accounting for cynics.``

Another side, another side, is that something intangible again, that loses its intangibility the minute you try to describe it. There is no accounting for masters of doublespeak, who can see this intangible `another side`. They can cherish them to their hearts` content.

``I have been distraught for sometime now and I do not like doing a plug job for my ilogs, but it is there...I am not dead yet.``

You should have mentioned that your Ilogs have to be read and studied before tackling the advanced course of the article instead of some double speak by Budha in the footnote.

``You wouldn`t understand sensitivity because you do not seem to fathom anything that does not hit you with a boulder...``

Is this the standard of interacts you want to uphold on Chowk? Attack my youth, stupidity, lack of sensitivity, lack of imagination, lack of belief in God instead of just answering my questions about your article.

``I understand confessionals usually come with strings attached...I have let you roam free... ``

Are you referring to your power of a gatekeeper on Chowk or your kindness in not reportiong me to Kofi Annan? Remember I roam free in the land of Bush and Cheny and I have to work hard to get to their level.

``If I have to explain the intangibles to you, then they cease to be intangible.``

Absolutely not. Your tangible benefit at a job are your paycheck, benefits of medical and dental plans, retirement plan, 401K etc. The intangible benefits may be to have the satisfaction of making a difference in the world, using the present job as a stepping stone to a more powerful one and gaining the joyful experience of talking to the bright minds of Mannyd, Salim, Zeemaxand BJ all in one sitting.

``And I have decided this line is the most defining one in this piece:``
If you have decided that, it is fine with me. It is your line, very non-touching. Are there some reward committies, where you submit your most defining lines? Good luck.

``For, oftentimes we do not `touch` several `things` for various reasons, and yet we connect.``

Now that we have connected, ET go home.

The cult thing was still gibberish though.

#199 by bjkumar:
{[...being at home in an alien place.]
An ALIEN place?
So what would be a native place?
Is it the place or the people - or is it just people!}

Yes, you can feel alienated even at home, or find your bearings where you do not `belong` in the sense of inhabiting the place.

People ARE like places. Kabhi bass jaatey hai, kabhi gumraah kar detey hai...
- - -
#201 by mannyd:

[Farzana #198: {All imagery, if you have an imagination, is cherishable.}

I do not agree.
Perhaps you meant that all imagery by Farzana is cherishable, because she is Farzana.]

No. I talked about imagination. Read before you leap.

The fact that you recall de Sade`s ``sick mind``, ``mass graves of Jews``, ``charred bodies`` clearly means that you `relate` to these. If you had seen another side, you might have cherished them. But there is no accounting for cynics.

[I have never been to Varanasi and now have no desire at all to look at what you described.]

You don`t have to look at what I looked at...

[However I do appreciate your cleverness in refusing to see dead Hindus and making a simple political statement because you have some image to protect. “Jo dar gaya samjho mar gaya”. Agreed, you have been scared for a while now.]

I have been distraught for sometime now and I do not like doing a plug job for my ilogs, but it is there...I am not dead yet. I wish it were mere cleverness; btw, I said I did not see dead bodies -- I did not mention Hindu bodies.

You wouldn`t understand sensitivity because you do not seem to fathom anything that does not hit you with a boulder...

[Now that you mention the intangibles, pray do tell us what they were. Farzana Bibi, I may grow older but I am not going to get any wiser. This is it. You can blame me for being stupid, but it is your intentional convoluted writing, that is partly to blame too. Let your Yeas be Yeas and Nays be Nays. Please do not talk through both corners of your mouth.]

I do not think you ought to credit my writing for your stupidity. I understand confessionals usually come with strings attached...I have let you roam free...

If I have to explain the intangibles to you, then they cease to be intangible. Unfortunately, there are no clear yeas and nays about these aspects.

[{Got your sarcasm there.}
Farzana Bibi, some people get their sarcasm wherever they can get it, in trash bins, in Varanasi or or or wherever. How is it served to you?]

Medium rare by a white-gloved steward with a sardonic smile.

[{Organised religion is like a water tank; it sustains people with its limited resources for their limited needs. A mystical search is like the ocean -- jo dar gaya samjho mar gaya. Now don`t forget what I cherished...}

Have you ever thought about starting a brand new cult, Parshant Mata Anandmai Farzana Bibi? Even with gibberish like above, you will find plenty of followers in Malibu.]

This has been a back-of-the-mind thing for a while now. You`d be surprised to know that there are a few followers already, not in Malibu but definitely with a malibu.

[What did you really cherish? Spell it out before wagging that fat finger in my face, please. It makes me very very twitchy and blink a lot.]

It was spelled out in some ways in the lines and between the lines, but most of all I cherish that people like you spent a good deal of time and energy over gibberish. It makes the effort all so worthwhile. People getting twitchy and blinking a lot always makes me think of powerful emotions...the fat finger weeps as it types these lines.

And I have decided this line is the most defining one in this piece: ``I had always wanted to touch the Ganga water, but chickened out. The boatmen did, leaving a trail with their fingertips. The skies realised my dilemma and a light drizzle came down on us. The water touched me and met the river. Contact had been made. ``

For, oftentimes we do not `touch` several `things` for various reasons, and yet we connect.
- - -
#200 by Salim_Chauhan:

You have been `enlightened` by another mystical soul here! Take your pick...

I was not a tourist; I am never a `tourist`. Big problem there. But thanks for accepting the ``contrasts`` with equanimity instead of getting twitchy.

PS: I believe you said somewhere you would not ever comment on my writings??

#201 by mannyd

What did you really cherish? Spell it out before wagging that fat finger in my face ..

MannyD Bhra .. before asking this question you must have your own anchor ... :-)

``I had always wanted to touch the Ganga water, but chickened out. The boatmen did, leaving a trail with their fingertips. The skies realised my dilemma and a light drizzle came down on us. The water touched me and met the river. Contact had been made. ``

A very powerful touching article about, well, non-touching the stinky river.)

SAlim Bhai: You are a gentleman and full of Rajput chivalery. Your paycheck may also be on the line. I understand....LOL.

The laughter of the children was totally out of place and uncalled for in a city of Shamshan Ghats, bloated cadavers and corpses.

``They laughed and waved and I laughed and waved back cursing myself for interrupting my goal towards mystical enlightenment.``

Farzana Bibi cursed herself for this unseemly interruption of her goal of seeking nothing and her sarcastic `mystical enlightenment`. She might have cursed the children too, but....

Kulharee #9 : ``Usually people have delayed reaction to something this horrific.

Ideally, Muslims should just stay quiet at such times, or raise hell against those who are responsible. ``

Thanks Kulharee Sahib for cutting through the overgrowth of confusion with a simple common sense statement.

Farzana #198: [All imagery, if you have an imagination, is cherishable.}

I do not agree.
Perhaps you meant that all imagery by Farzana is cherishable, because she is Farzana.
I do not cherish images of Marquis De Sade’s sick mind.
I do not cherish images of mass graves of jews being bull dozed by the allies.
I do not cherish images of charred bodies of Gujrat and Delhi victims.
I do not cherish any of the images of death, you presented of Varanasi. I have never been to Varanasi and now have no desire at all to look at what you described.
Sorry.
However I do appreciate your cleverness in refusing to see dead Hindus and making a simple political statement because you have some image to protect. “Jo dar gaya samjho mar gaya”. Agreed, you have been scared for a while now.

[Your list has conveniently chosen the tangibles; even the tangible may be cherishable down the road...like when you grow old and wisened you might recall a line from here and cherish it!}

Now that you mention the intangibles, pray do tell us what they were. Farzana Bibi, I may grow older but I am not going to get any wiser. This is it. You can blame me for being stupid, but it is your intentional convoluted writing, that is partly to blame too. Let your Yeas be Yeas and Nays be Nays. Please do not talk through both corners of your mouth.

[..!), but the Hajj stampede is different from this case. That happens because people do not follow basic principles of civilized behavior, like walking in a straight line, queuing up, and not pushing and shoving to be the first to stone a devil they do not know. }

Of course Farzana. Moreover we do have to find some human scapegoats instead of blaming the One and only Big Kahuna of the True faith. I am sure this SankatMochan fellow was just some junior flunky in the backward crowded pantheon of Hinduism. He does need to be questioned using third degree methods. It is just a theory, but could it be that the soft state of India and even softer yellow Hindus are just too civilized to deal with the terrorists, what with people stumbling over each other proclaiming how secular and civilized they are.

[Got your sarcasm there. ]
Farzana Bibi, some people get their sarcasm wherever they can get it, in trash bins, in Varanasi or or or wherever. How is it served to you?

[Organised religion is like a water tank; it sustains people with its limited resources for their limited needs. A mystical search is like the ocean -- jo dar gaya samjho mar gaya. Now don`t forget what I cherished...]

Have you ever thought about starting a brand new cult, Parshant Mata Anandmai Farzana Bibi? Even with gibberish like above, you will find plenty of followers in Malibu.

What did you really cherish? Spell it out before wagging that fat finger in my face, please. It makes me very very twitchy and blink a lot.

Farzana, {``The cycle rickshaw swerved dangerously through the water, splashing school kids who were making their way home. How many such kids knew that the person clicking them with a camera was imagining she would find her Nothingness there? They laughed and waved and I laughed and waved back cursing myself for interrupting my goal towards mystical enlightenment.
My mind does not allow me to think of kids dying. ``}

Farzana,
A very touching and sad article about terrorism and how it derails everything we imagine to be peaceful, colorful, playful, comforting, and reassuring. I just loved the contrasts and surprising conclusions that you weaved into a tourist`s memories, while unwilling to accept horrible reality. Superbly written and vividly captivating as it attempts to deny evil while condemning it. Good job.

[...being at home in an alien place.]

An ALIEN place?

So what would be a native place?

Is it the place or the people - or is it just people!

Re: # 195. 196
mannyd:

All imagery, if you have an imagination, is cherishable. Your list has conveniently chosen the tangibles; even the tangible may be cherishable down the road...like when you grow old and wisened you might recall a line from here and cherish it!

[That sankat engulfed the gullible idiots who were there for the mochan of some minor imaginary Sankat in their miserable lives is true poetic justice. A case very similar to that of the Hazis who were trampled to their death recently, just when they renounced and stoned the devil.

Who says Gods do not have a sense of humor?..LOL..]

It must be a very dark sense of humour, then. If you do not believe in a god, then why blame her/him for things?

I do not wish to make any political statement (image ka sawaal hai right now!), but the Haj stampede is different from this case. That happens because people do not follow basic principles of civilised behaviour, like walking in a straight line, queuing up, and not pushing and shoving to be the first to stone a devil they do not know.

[Organized religion is great.]

Got your sarcasm there. Organised religion is like a water tank; it sustains people with its limited resources for their limited needs. A mystical search is like the ocean -- jo dar gaya samjho mar gaya. Now don`t forget what I cherished...
- - -
zeemax (#197):

No problem. But exploring another`s inner world often means being carried with the tide, unless you bring along your own anchor!