Thursday, 15 December 2011
"The genesis of my existence lies in the womb of envy."
Wednesday, 14 December 2011
Disclaimer: As usual, my train of thoughts shall not follow one trail.
Today, I happen to attend an event about Jaun Elia at T2f. It was an informal event and there were hardly ten people and two of them were well-versed about Jaun Elia and gave a talk on him. As for myself, I was aware of the name of Jaun Elia and have seen cover of one of his books in which he with his long hair looking at something. The talk started with a brief introduction written by one of the speakers and was followed by dejection which speakers felt about Elia that he couldn't achieve that fame which other poets did.
Jaun was a poet and philosopher and was well versed in Hebrew, Persian, Arabic and English. Along with his poetic brilliance, he had a great command over language. He was greatly concerned about the technicalities of poetry, which includes meter, diction etc.. I can't write in a proper and coherent way so please let me ramble now. Jaun was a person who believed that poetry is not a part-time job; it's a full-time job. He was a bohemian. He loved his work more than anything and sort of renounced everything and devoted himself completely to his work. I believe that it is utter dedication, devotion and madness that bring the genius out of you. The discussion continued about his work and that how people used to come to him and ask him for help. Those who used to come to him for help was purely for selfish reason. The never came back and paid heed to him when he was not there in hospital. Even some of the contemporary poets who took help from Elia don't give due credit to him. That is why our society is not does not deserve help. They are ruthless people. Jaun had a great command over language and writers like Mushtaq Ahmed Yousufi used to consult him if they had any issues with language. Jaun was meticulous about language. During discussion, I learned that there is no such word as Karobaar. The word is Kaar baar. There was one anecdote narrated during discussion that someone repeatedly said to Elia that '' Lahore tau Lahore hai'' and Elia replied ''Tau Jaani Sukkur kya Islamabad hai?". I may not have quoted it verbatim but precisely that is what he said. He was a witty person.
Jaun was not a family man. He didn't care much about his family and that eventually led to his divorce too. His children don't like him or probably detest him. He was a great poet but not a great father. The question arises that whether this shall overshadow his poetic brilliance or not? Clearly no. It is absolutely ludicrous if an artist is being judged for his poetry on the basis of his lifestyle or what he was in reality. The fact that Elia could pen such sheer brilliance can be attributed to his devotion, dedication and madness for his work. One of the people from audience said that Elia is a wonderful poet but people should not idolize him because he was not a good family man or father. He didn't perform his responsibilities, which includes taking care of his children and being breadwinner of a family. Had he been a family man and good father, would he have been able to come up with poetry of this calibre? Most probably no. If we look at artists in past, this has been the story of many. I am not generalizing or saying that everyone should do some, but this has been the case with many. If they try to perform their worldly duties well, then they will be probably able to only dedicate time to their work. The devotion and madness will not be there, hence under-utilization of creativity.
In short, artist's creation should not be judged on what he was/is in his real life. It is artist's personal choice and shall be respected.
Sunday, 13 November 2011
"A need to conform with societies' mores not only annihilates 'self' but reduces it to a junk with no self-sufficiency."
The fear of not being able to conform with society is so lethal that an individual agrees to gamble its self and soul. Society is nothing except a bunch of assholes talking about others' asses, and a fearful has to align his/her mindset with that of populace. One needs to realize that society has evolved for worst than for betterment. It has destroyed civilization more than any individual, and now it is destroying 'the crazy ones' collectively. Its aim is to cripple one's ability to think, and it is one's 'own' thought that makes all the difference.
Saturday, 12 November 2011
Thursday, 10 November 2011
Saturday, 22 October 2011
What brings me to my blog is nothing but an urge to scribble something for the sake of writing. Sadly, i have got an agenda today.
It has been 5 years that i have been living in Karachi alone(not really) and that 5 years have instilled a feeling of staying alone forever. By being alone i do not mean that i want a cubicle of my own adorned with my fancies but a space of my own where there is no trespasser. There is no one to intrude or to dictate. I have lived enough and hope to live enough to find my own good(¿) way. What really bothers me is constant badgering from everyone to tread the path they fancy. Why do human beings have this tendency to impose their experiences and choices on others? I think everyone wants to have some following, some social affiliation or association and hence they want that someone should listen to them and follow them. I have got bunch of kibitzers around who have got free and unwanted advice to offer all the time.
A feeling of uselessness always hovers over me and probably it has got a thing for me. It is not a mere outcome of nothingness but my inability to do something productive. My productivity is sixty percent directly proportional and thirty percent inversely proportional to envy. I include both proportions as it all depends on my self-reinforcement in that particular task. I grow within a cocoon of envy and how i grow can only be observed as my ability to express will not be sufficient. Let me tell you that i am writing this today also because i have read few blogs and write-ups and envied them and decided to scribble something(¿) at least. Hence, don't take my write-up as an outcome of some creative secretion.
One of the trite agendas of mine is that 'i am not reading anything'. It upsets me most that despite having so much time i am not reading anything. I waste my time on my useless pursuit of nothingness and end up feeling useless.
Before i put this write-up back into drafts, i should publish it. I have a bad habit of not putting anything on blog and letting it rot in drafts.
Friday, 20 August 2010
|Courtesy: Google Images|
There is always a person in every one's life whom one admires for something or other. Today i will also talk about that person. I can write a whole book on that person. But today i will drip some sugar coated words for him.
He is a man who has got nothing to do in his life. He excels at prying into others' matters. He is a man who never gets angry and has maintained his so called sarcastic tone which is always aimed at degrading others. He is a self-taught and self-sufficient man who has been so much over-indulged in his self-sufficiency that now he is suffering from "I" syndrome. I syndrome can be defined as that "he keeps on blaming his family that they did nothing for him and that he did all for himself." You can say egoist or egotist.
The unique quality which he possesses is gossiping. He is a gossipmonger. In a community, his network is so strong that if anyone hears news, i am sure he is the one who has disseminated.
He is a schadenfreude. He revels in others' misfortunes. He needs something to pick on others. Let it be anyone, he just wants to somehow mock and ridicule them by insinuating an insult or hurting remark with sugar coated words. He is a person who should be taught Business Communication course. He should be taught that instead of saying to a person "You can't do this" he should say "You can do this instead." But i guess that is out of question. This is because his self-sufficiency controls him now. To shut his mouth up we need a person who can come with instant witty comebacks.
I shall enlighten you guys even if you don't want to be enlightened that he is a stereotype. He has got his own baseless reasons and that's why arguing with him is always baseless (What a logic. Am i stereotype?).
In the end i will say that i have found a job for him. He can be a reporter in ZOOM TV. I guess no one will be able to beat him. No one will be able to fudge the news better than him. This is called sublimation according to Freud's Defense Mechanism =D.
Oh. I forgot to tell you who is this person. But shall i? No. It is unethical(how sweet of me).One should know that he is "The Gossipmonger cum Newsmonger cum Rumourmonger etc.."
Viola. I have enough gossiped about him but i guess he is the only person about whom i can gossip so much. I believe everyone comes across such one person in his or her life who is born to do so. Lets have an analysis of this person. Is there any way we can improve him? Or No?. I believe no. It's because that he has outgrown that stage in which he could have been moulded. Partially his parents can be blamed but lets spare those old people. They did what they could do. I believe that this person has grown up with just a thought that it's "I" who matters. I have no issue of being having too much "I". Being an adherer of Ayn Rand that is perfectly fine. But this person uses "I" with negative energy and this is where the flaw lies. He needs to learn to stand in other's shoes. I understand that he has seen lot of pain and sufferings but i have believed that out of pain and sufferings man becomes bold and understanding instead of turning into a so called insinuating insult generator. I can't comment much as i don't know much about his youth in which i am sure some negative centripetal or centrifugal or whatever force attracted him and turned him into such person.
I hate talking this way about people. I guess i will come up with another entry in which i will have detailed analysis of these kind of people. How their thoughts are driven and all. Good Bye.
Friday, 25 April 2008
From the shadow of God you are born,
Having the heart huge like well,
Which holds the Poetries of life and Poems of love.
Sword of endurance, Guns of bravery.
Fools are those who dare to meddle into your conscience.
Bestowed by the composed soul of heavens you are,
Where every breeze is like a balm,
And every edge is calm.
Nine months pain she bore,
For that eternal smile,
Which sprinkled on the day of delivery,
And so she gave birth
To a Bard,
Whose every word praises this holy woman,
Every act honours her persona.
Born from that womb was I,
Living the life of slave(for my mother) , I Love,
And a wish to die in that womb, I Hold.
Now with whom shall i compare thee vigorous lady?
Today a mother gave birth to another mother,
Who, tomorrow will continue this eternal cycle of production.
Then with whom i am going to compare these mothers?
When they are incomparable!
Wrote on 14th May 2007 for a competition.
Saturday, 12 January 2008
In the light of candle,
i was reading a book.
My thick spectacles hanging loose over the tip of my nose.
I saw moths marching towards me from a distance
I saw moths marching towards me from a distance
and suddenly all started laughing.
A mocking laughter.
I placed my glasses parallel to my eyes,
and noticed the throng lurking over the candle with an eternal desire to burn.
In the silence of the night,
one of the moths asked in a derisive tone,"What does this heap of trash teach you?"
I felt my lips stretch and my eyes twinkle.I answered,
"To Value You LITTLE Creatures."
A silence crept in and their lurking come to an end.
Every moth then peered directly into my eyes and the flame stood still; waited.
I observed a bundle of feelings arising in them
A desire to know,
to be valued
A feeling arose in me as well.
I fell in love with them.
In the ongoing silence, with their pride at stake, they inquired,
"What else does it teach you?"
It teaches you
To live without burns,
To fly without wings,
To think without limits, and
To act without power.
Another from the swarm posed a question,
"What possession does it own?
"My lips curved and bowed"
It possesses unlimited wisdom and knowledge.
It possesses Power,
And God....In Self.
And suddenly the Flame Died.
Wednesday, 9 January 2008
And started inhaling,
My lungs became barren of breath,
My flesh in exasperation, grasped the bones tightly.
But not a single drop of ink, coloured my throat.
Thats Writer's Agony.
In the Buddha Posture i sat,
With pen and paper in hands.
All got numb.
Pen and paper departed
And my head fell down.
Thats Writer's Pain.
An idea crept into my mind,
and smile swept over my lips.
Pen was dancing,
Paper was fluttering.
Both were dying for union.
Time came and kiss was the only distance,
but the nib broke.
That's Writers Cry.