Things to look forward to in my blog.
I wrote this poem quite a few years back. I wanted to write a poem that was completely out of my normal style. I wrote this by adding Hindi and writing it from the point of view of a widow. Last month I saw an episode of India’s Next Superstar which reminded me of my poem. The picture above is taken from there and the scene starts at 2:50 into the video. Last week was Holi but surviving the Beast from the East was the reason I forgot about it. A belated Holi to everyone and may your life be filled with colour.
Holi Aaye re Aaye re Aaye re,
But how can I celebrate when he is not there?
Colours of spring everywhere.
But my life is prosaic and my hair grey.
For who can know the heart of a woman in pain.
Who can hear her silent wail.
While you sing and dance all the time,
I will hide behind my hypocritical smile.
Wear your white and paint it with a rainbow.
Just find me the darkest corner so I can lay low.
My hearts desire is for him to say,
Tumse alava koi nahi hein.
I came across this article. It proved to be an inspiration. When I look back at life I do wonder what would have happened if I had to get into humanities rather than finance. Writing is something that has always attracted me. I love the way that random words can be put together to create an immortal thing of beauty. Don’t get me wrong. I love finance. I love the way the markets dance like lovers under a starry sky. Sometimes they tread on each other’s toes and sometimes they seem to glide like shimmering silk. Getting into finance is like being bitten by a vampire. It changes your life forever. The thrill of seeing the decisions you make paying off. The disappointment of looking at lost opportunities. The new things you learn every day.
Writing is like watching life being born as soon as your fingers come off the keypad or the ink from your fountain pen starts to dry. The happiness I get from writing a story or a blog is completely different. You leave yourself exposed on a pedestal. You start to instantaneously wonder whether anyone cares about what you write because you have not got any views or likes.
I have always been a macro person. I do not want to concentrate only on one topic. I am a complex person with interests in diverse topics. Why should I shackle myself to just one topic? Yes, it is easier to get followers like that just as it is easier to get a job when you concentrate on one particular sector in the equity market. However, there is no fun in that. I want the world to read what I have to say about everything I want to write about. I want to do that without having to become a leader of a country who has a twiddly finger and a twitter account. I think I have just set myself a lofty ambition. Let me see where it gets me.
It is with deep regret that I have decided to halt my progress in NaNoWriMo. Sadly reality is significantly stronger than fantasy. Life and death gets in the way. When my world and characters take over my mind and thoughts than the people who matter then there is a problem. I have enjoyed this process and NaNoWriMo gave me the impetus that I needed. One of my characters now has turned from a figment of my imagination to someone who breathes. Other characters came into his life who I never thought of. I have dealt with and killed a few demons that haunted me. I should admit that I found it satisfying although I wish that I made them suffer more before killing them. I have created a world.Religions and customs have started to form. I came across a quote which said that everyone has one good book in them but that’s where it should stay. I hope that I will have more than one book in me and the time will come when I can set it free. I like the process of writing and would love to be called an author. There is truth to writing even if it is fantasy. I would dare say that fantasy is more honest. Characters hate people. They love others. You will know if people like your book or hate it. Some of my favourite books are by Raymond Feist. One of the worst series and books is also by him. In the world of investments you never know who your friends are and who are your well wishers. You maintain relationships because you never know when you will need to wipe the dust off that business card to get some information that will make a big difference. You never know what people think of your ideas.
Ithaca by Constantine Cavafy is one of my favourite poems. I know my destination. NaNoWriMo was the wind that caused my ship to anchor off. I do not know how I will get there or when nor who I will meet on the way. I will finish my novel which has a working title of “The priests of Konkor.” At the risk of sounding too cliche; “Watch this space.”
Loved this poem. I hope words especially of hope will be stronger than any weapon
The power of words
can best a thousand swords
a simple idea
can bring down a great armada
a pure intention
can lead to a better nation
a spark of courage
can conquer the stage
the greatest mind,
a hope of mankind
with these things in mind
make a choice, leave the negativity behind
Man has the potential to create a better world
for a story for the next generations will soon unfold.
I want to start a project of writing Psalms. This is my first attempt. I would love to get some thoughts and comments on this
I bury my head in my hands to quell tears from my eyes.
They flow like a river starting at its very source.
The priests they dress in their mighty finery.
The sadducees mock me aplenty.
When will you hear my cry?
When will my enemies be slain?
Protect me my merciful God.
Save me from those who seek me harm.
May they perish into darkness,
May their souls wander between worlds.
May their children know no peace,
May their childrens children walk baren in the desert.
Save me my Lord.
Save your humble servant.
I prostrate myself before thee.
For only you are holy.
Words fail me with every passing day,
Forgotten like the gods of old.
In distant corners of my mind they stay,
Waiting to come forth and be told.
A sabbatical of a shemitah I have taken,
Now I am a debtor no longer,
All my burdens have fallen,
Now the spring starts stronger.
Dark melodies flood my mind,
The water of life flows inside.
Who knows which sea my words will find,
Meandering words again ride.