NavDharmyug

Yesterday, I was at the mall, to watch a movie which turned out to be mediocre. However, that is not the case in point. The case in point is different. It pertains to the incident which happened right before the movie. As we reached the mall, and tried to look for a parking slot, we could with our senses fully alert could notice a family getting into a car and about to leave, thus vacating the slot. I halted my car there and waited patiently as the car in the slot backed out. But lo and behold, before I could move into the slot thus vacated, another car which saw the leaving car and my car intending to move in, from a distance, suddenly rushed in and claimed the space. I was aghast at the behavior and shameless attitude. It was deliberate and it was outrageous. I expected it to be some rash young man of neighboring village of sudden wealth to be driving the car. But no, out came a family of three, with one kid, and the man, with clear reflection of education  and affluence...

If someone makes a cursory glance through the posts on Social media, detachment is one of the most common theme which runs across. It highlights two things, one is that the sense of loss and the grief arising out of unrequited love troubles a huge number of people, and a huge number of people among them find solace in getting rid of all expectations.   I find this defeatist. It defies logic and runs contrary to the sense of justice. Don't get me wrong, It isn't that I am immune to the pain and sorrow attached with unrequited love. I am in fact, prince of pessimism. It is painful and saddening to not receive what you are entitled to on the grounds of justice and love. I writhe in pain when I am let down. But I am also a pampered child of love who believes the right return for the investment made in a relation. I refuse to accept anything lesser. I refuse to betray myself. I know man is a logical animal, who knows that two plus two equals four. I can not have it o...

"Without music, life would be a mistake"said Nietzsche, the nihilist philosopher. Plato spoke about the all encompassing nature of music when he said,"Music gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything." A wise man in Kashmir, sought to contradict them and said music was the way to hell, and the harbinger of moral decline of social morality. He, in one ambitious step, nullified the wisdom of centuries; re-defined religion and killed music in the land of amazing beauty.  He, one night came on the national television, gleefully claiming his space in the drawing rooms of a nation to claim that when girls are put in the close vicinity of young boys, without the great, protective shield of the veil over their heads. This murder of music, this lunacy is one such evil which can not survive a day without pretentious sanction of religion. In the illegitimately gained legitimacy of interpreted religion, voices ...

Reclaiming your life isn't an easy task, nor is a gender-specific thing though we are largely thought to believe it. For men, a large part of our spirititually married lives, as Scott Fitzgerald would call it, is a life lost. That is the sad existence of a much hyped metro-sexual man, a life of quiet desperation as James Joyce called it. He is more of a woman than a woman, and then again, he isn't a woman of today.  A metro-sexual man is a woman of yesteryear, the woman who was in those days crushed out of shape and character. I was discussing with a colleague of mine about how he stopped riding bike since his marriage. When he spoke of it, his face was a picture of immense longing, and he looked far into horizon, contemplating an eternal ennui which stretched in front of him. I could see him cherishing the nostalgic air brushing his face with cold arrogance, him meeting that arrogance with a sense of manliness. His wife would look at his longing with contempt, pointing out the...

I will here not evaluate the veracity of claims and counter-claims by AAP and its opponents, which are as on day listed as Congress and BJP, both colossal forces, one driven by history, another by a promise of future. The election surveys are a different game altogether and true or not, do not honestly analyses the impact of a political force. AAP rose out of the desperation of the middle class, driven to the edge by blatant corruption and a response to it by the government of the day which grew even more blatant with each new expose. Nothing was left sacred and nothing was left untouched. The shame grew to engulf the highest citadels of power, which sat in the assumed security. That power corrupts, we knew as a nation and to an extent, we had given a realistic acceptance to corruption in governance. In that sense, I believe, we Indians bore a great resemblance to Irishman, as written about by GK Chesterton, has two eyes. By which he implied that with one eye “ an Irishman saw ...

A silence descends over us as we age. As we grow, we start classifying words as meaningless and purposeful. Those defined as meaningless, struggle hard to keep their dignity with feigned grace and feigned deafness as people call them names. Life breathes through those puerile words and they struggle hard to keep breathing.  This struggle between adult meaningfulness and childish happy play continues till the time those meaningless words of vigor, hope and sensitivity start dying, alphabet by alphabet. We then, devoid of the brightness of those lovely words, stand in the gray, darkness with angry winds of silence bellowing with feral fury. We are left with wise words which descend far and between and even they loose relevance in a while and stop visiting.  What you speak, what you write may not change the world, may not bring earth-shattering changes to your life. They do not exist to serve you. They are the butterflies on the sunny days to fill them with beauty ...

Courtesy: Old Friends By Rupa Bhaty Her work is at  https://rupabhaty.see.me/ We grow up with our own ideas of the world and life. From a weak existence, which is sure of its own ideas, we grow into an existence of power when those ideas take wings. We trust in those ideas, talk about them and argue for them. We love them truly and dream about surrendering our selfish well being to propel those ideas. As the Sun would set in the backdrop of tea stalls, we would speak with the conviction of a sage who has found his truth. Life hits back. It throws at us a rule book framed out of the lowest common denominator, the law of average. Every word is countered by the already tamed society with a rare vengeance. We conform to the social mold. Each act of conformance is an act of violence against the sacred spirit which we are borne with, a stab on the Will to live. With each small surrender, a word dies, one after another and the next rain flushes away the dead, through the dark n...