Down The Memory Lane

Last Monday, it was Children's day and I called up my nephew, a Fifth grader to wish him after returing from office. The conversation was light and innocent and it led me to the reminiscences of the vivacity of my school days. I went back through my personal diary of those days, when I had just graduated from school and joined junior college. Here is one of the writings that I found:


Getting up early in the morning and preparing for school was something that I always hated. The cool breeze at the dawn, the chirping of the birds and the occassional voices of the shaggy lady cleaning the roads tempt you to sleep for another hour or two. This was the time when I covered myself in the sheet from head to toe. The bed seemed to be the most cozy place in the world and I swear I was always ready to pay any possible price for letting me to sleep for one more hour - just one hour is all I asked for.


With eyes half-closed, I used to peep out of the sheet that covered me like a shroud and then convince myself that I could sleep for ten more minutes, then five more and so on. Anyways, I had to go to school. I used to get up reluctantly with eyes closed cursing the Sun, the morning, the school, and everything around me including the washbasin, toothbrush and bathroom. After getting ready, I used to drag myself to the school dreaming all the time of the day when I would be relieved of this hellish duty.


Things have changed since then. Its been almost a year since I last got up early in the morning to go to school. No. Not because I have been kicked out of school, but because I have graduated from school (and I have fetched good marks as well), and I have joined junior college where I don't have to reach early for classes.


For the first few days after the board exams, I slept very happily in the morning with absolute peace. But now being in the bed till late causes anguish. I get up early to go out and feel the cold breeze, to hear the chirping birds and to see the shaggy yet complacent women cleaning the roads and singing to themselves. Now I quite often feel the longing within myself to get back to school.

Not A Review - RockStar

This is not a love story. This is not a biopic of a rockstar either. This is something bigger. Something beyond the visualization of a normal human mind- of thoughts, dreams, solitude, peace and true love. This movie needs to be seen beyond the obvious, to be heard beyond the spoken.

The protagonist lives in a world of his own - a world devoid of societal opinions, in a cocoon insulated from the worldy care. He is a freely wandering soul - careless, undaunted. He cannot be chained down, grovelling in the dust. He is not born to do it.He has to fly - soar high. He does not need anyone. Because he is in search of something more meaningful. Because he is in search of himself. He is not a conformist. He dares to go against the norms laid down by the society. And when you do so, it is natural for the society not to understand you.

The story reminds me of the Jonathan Livingston seagull - the gull who sought against the conventions of the seagull society to find a deeper purpose in life. And to do what he loves doing.

The movie looks ahead of the moral boundaries of right and wrong. Morality is a societal concept. And as Nietszche has rightly said, "You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist." The protagonist is lost within himself. He does not know the difference between right-doing and wrong-doing. He knows passion. He feels love.

The movie depicts love beyond the realms of institutional marriage. True love is not bounded by conditions, and thoughts of right and wrong. It does not have expectations of reciprocity. It need not be directed towards someone. Love in itself is a sense of completion. It cannot be fathomed.

As for the society, such souls have always been considered insane. But who defines insanity? Is it about not walking with the herd? Or is it about deriving peace from selfless love?

And just so as to quote Rumi completely:
"Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I will meet you there.
When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about
language, ideas, even the phrase each other
doesn't make any sense."


I don't expect you to understand this. This is not a review. Its a perception. I am not a critic. This is just my view.