CHERISH with HARISH

9th December. Badamma's place, Hyderabad. I am at badamma's place (badamma is mom's elder sister) for two days. Badamma has no kids at her home (as both my cousins stay in other cities- Chennai and Brisbane). She was really happy to see me. Have been talking and more than talking, I have been listening to badamma. I see this joy in her eyes when she talks about Yaseen (her grandson). Today, in the morning we got this cute piece of news that Yaseen has got into class 1. So, she's damn happy. Yaseen lives at a place, which is miles away from here; he is just 5. I am sure hedoesn't even know that someone in India loves him so much. As he would grow up, may be then he would get to know. Badamma is making kheer for celebrating Yaseen's 'success'. Love is an amazing thing. the one who gives it is happier than the one who gets it. I think it is one of those very few things in which the one who gives ends up happier. This is what is God, or the POWER, or whatev

The coach is pretty cold, comfortably cold, lying down on my berth I think The windows of the train are being closed, I can't see where I am, I am not in the city from where I started, I am not in the city where I have to reach, I am somewhere in between, I am NO WHERE. With some music in my earphones, and a pen and my diary in my hand, this NO WHERE becomes an experience. It's the journey which has to be fun, the people you talk to, the places you see from the window, the food you buy from the pantry car, the rhythmic sounds of the train, the loud sounds of 'chai', the slight dance-like movement, which the train gives you, the metallic smell of the train, The rectangular berth which becomes your identity for the rest of the journey, the sounds of other trains pasing by, the stupid conversations with fellow passengers, which teach you more things than any of 'those' intellectual conversations, the journey has to be fun, NO WHERE has to be fun. Yes, it has to be

Chapter-2 The space 4 th May 2010, Kharaghoda After a long walk, we reached our location. It was blank. Absoutely bank! The only thing which I could see cleary was the horizon An infinite, wide horizon which had stories to tell, stories which it had seen. The strong sound of the breeze constantly made me realise that there’s no one here- no people, no vehicles, no city, no village… just the salty sand, the wide horizon and the strong breeze. We stood there watching it for sometime. Achint and me looked so small in front of the huge Rann. Or may be, the whole humanity looked so small in front of it. It was powerful. I could sense why people in the older days were scared of travelling too far. They thought that the earth is not round but flat. May be sights like these scared them to travel beyond a certain point. Like them, I could feel that fear again. I asked myself, “Is the earth actually round?” We started looking for space for our sets. Achint was guiding

A nice semester this was. Too much of thinking...too much of work... and lots of fun. I directed two plays...directed a film to which I gave everything (almost), a bit of random travelling (love it!) and some plans for the near future. One thing which this sem taught me was to be 'random'...to live in the present, and live to the fullest. The future would follow in the same colour scheme. 'Kuch toh dekho' ( VC street play), 'Dustbin' (khel), 'Kuch toh dekho' (for MBICEM) , 'Growth' (a short film) and 'Shwet-shyam' (fiction film @ NID) ... Sometimes we think too much about the future, and spoil the present. I think it's good to be random. You see the unseen, you hear the unheard. So when you work hard then, you are honest to yourself, as you chose to get into the situation! 'Good things happen to good people.'  Plans for 'Jantar'  and 'Gum-Naam' (plays)...a short film ('Asleep') and the documentary proje

That early morning breeze which reminds me of all the childhood memories, that glass of cold water which I hold after spending a hot afternoon, that's where I see God. That fire I touch on a chilly winter night, that deep breath I take after a tensed moment, that 2-minute nap I take after hours of hard work, that brilliant idea I get sometimes get, out of no where, that is where, I see God. That chair I get to sit, after standing for long, that peace I get once I close my eyes, that appreciation I get from a stranger, when I need it the most, those accidents which take place, where I never get hurt, that is where, I see God. Those moments when an unknown stray dog showers love on me, when my lips make a circle to say 'Om', those people I meet whom I wasn't supposed to meet, that love with which a mother looks at her new-born, that is where, I see God. That sound of the serene flowing river, tha sight of that beautiful mountain, that wet smell of the rains, the sun rays

Sometimes I get these wierd questions, whose answers I know, but I still don't know. Who am I? I know my name, my existence but what more than that? Am I the body, the soul, the thoughts or am I just a collection os fome energy? Is it when I breathe that I live, or is it when I think that I exist? Would I still be called 'me' once I leave the body, or will I stop thinking after I die? Where am I? Is this world really huge? or is it just a minute layer, a small part of that HUGE structure that we can't see? Does our world end where we stop seeing, hearing or feeling? Or are there more layers, deeper and invisible, unheard and unexplored? Do the stars I see in the sky are a part of the same layer? or is it some distant layer? They say they don't know where the universe ends, but do they know where does it begin? Am I a part of the universe, or is the other way round? Is the universe a part of me? What do I do? When I live life, do I plan it? Or is it already a part o

इन तेज़ चलती गाड़ियों के बीच , न दिखे सड़क के उस पार कि गलियां । भूल गया हूँ , इन अंधेरी गलियों में, आँखों पर पट्टी बाँध आँख-मिचौनी खेलना। अब आम बहुत मीठे मिले हैं, पर भूल गया हूँ, उस आम के पेड़ पर चढ़, खट्टे, अध-पके आमों को तोडना। अब ज़िन्दगी चले हैं सीधी सड़कों पर, भूल गया हूँ,उन छोटी-छोटी पग-डंडियों पर खो जाना। अब जब भी पग नीचे जाएँ, चप्पल ही संभाले हैं, भूल गया हूँ, नंगे पैर उस ठंडी माती पर चलना। अब दूर-दूर तक सब दिखे हैं, पर भूल गया हूँ, उस करीबी धुंधली परछाई को देखना , जो शायद मेरी ही थी ।

The beginning Achint wanted to shoot his diploma film in the Rann of Kutch in the first and second week of May. Many believe that May is the worst time to be in the Rann. May be that was the adventure of the whole shoot. We packed our bags. Our journey started on the morning of 1st May, in a van which carried the entire luggage, the driver, Achint and me. The journey was long. I have seen the Thar, but this was my first visit to the Rann, a desert of some other type. After around two hours of traveling we stopped at a dhaba to have some chai and faafda! As we moved further it got hotter and boring as there was very little variety in the visuals that could be seen. So, I dozed off. The hot breeze woke me again after a short while. I saw trucks, some villagers working on huge heaps of sand. As our van got closer to the heaps I noticed that it was not sand. It was salt! They were white salt crystals which were brought from the Rann and now would be sent to factories for refining. I had he

If man could fly, he would set up factories, refineries and mines in the clouds...stadia and airports in the skies... Where would our lovely CROWS go then!

The harder I flap my wings, more tired I get. The harder I flap my wings, more efforts I have to make. The harder I flap my wings, the more I sweat! But the whole point is, the HARDER I flap my wings, THE HIGHER I FLY...

There are questions which have answers, there are questions which don't . There are questions whose answers we know, but still we ask them, There are questions whose answers we don't know, but still, we never ask. There are questions which have many answers, there are questions which have none! There are questions which are answers to a bigger question, there are answers which are questions in themselves. Our mind is filled with questions, we continue to live, searching for the answers. Sometimes, the search ends in a lifetime, sometimes, it doesn't, and we continue. There is growth, just because we have questions, and there is destruction just because we don't listen to the answers. We continue the exploration, the answers are important, but what's more important is the fact, that there should always be QUESTIONS...

I said that my phone has stopped working. Now i CAN'T communicate with my friends. As a reply, the CROWS laughed out loud. They're still laughing...

For us, it was all about those tensions about the economy, agriculture, humidity, drainage systems, or the traffic jams ! For the crows, the MONSOON was just plain HAPPINESS...

There are many around us. There are many which we are a part of, many which affect us. They are good, but only till the time they help us organise ourselves. Humanity has always fought for the idea of indepenence. Then why should these systems encage us. Culture, trends, pressures, assumptions, languages...We take up all these so that they would help us sometime , but not for the reason that we'll be enslaved by them! We need to learn things from the nature. It is so free, so serene, yet so peaceful. It shouts at things which try to enslave it. That's our true nature. Systems need to be broken!

I switch on my computer, open a new word document and start thinking. I think how to start. I type, I think again I type... It's time for my fiction film. There's a concept, an idea. There are characters, MY characters. Their lives will move the way I want. But at the end, they're all thoughts. At the end, it's not about their lives, it's just a film! I look around, for inspiration, for people, for actions which my characters would take up. There's a lot happening, both inside and outside. I feel I need to stop, take a deep take a breath. The characters are tired too. They are tired, they ask for some water. I give them. But the thoughts continue. I talk to a friend, narrate the concept to him. I share my mind with him. It's tough! I am talking about visuals which I would create. I am helping him see images which are not there. He tries his best. His inner world tries to accept my world, through a common worl in which we live. It's complicated! At the en

He had no money to spend on luxuries, no thoughts to waste on the heavenly comforts, he just had thoughts to make the world a better place. One day, after walking for miles, he sat down under a tree, he had no money to buy food, so he sat there looking at it. A rich merchant brought some food and kept it in front of the brahmin. The merchant said,"I would like to help the poor!" The brahmin smiled, is it money that makes one rich or poor? The Brahmin left the food and sat down under the tree with eyes closed, to raise questions whose answers were unknown to mankind. He went deeper and deeper, with every breath he took, he got answers. After a few days, he opened his eyes, he could feel the sunlight, he could smell life in the fresh air. And then he started speaking... every word which came out was of gold, there were stories, there were poems, there were ideas, which taught living beings to live, and smiles to flourish. He had no shelter, no money, but he was rich. Much riche

Now this is amazing. I reached home last week, and it was worth the wait, the journey and the tiredness. There's this special smell or should i say 'aroma' of home, that the moment I entered I knew what heaven was. This state of rest is soothing. You get to eat food, which you have had/admired/loved all your life. This is the place where you are protected (in many ways). And then the best part- You get to live with those two people who love you the most- the couple which the world knows as your PARENTS! Like all good things, this too would end. I am leaving for work the next week, but I am busy collecting memories, so that when I am at away, I can can look at those memories and feel the heaven! Ah, i smell good food. Dinner time! Cheers

It's a cage of bricks. We all enjoy, laugh on jokes which come straight out of the pigeon path or from the BM, but rarely from the heart. It's fun, but there's something missing. There are ideas everywhere, there are views everywhere, but very few voices. Everyone works hard for careers, for assignments, but what about that higher level which we all know of? It's nice, but the brick structures promise much more. Everyone studies of sustainability and shit like that, but the lights are left ON at 11 am. Nothing new, that's how careless youngsters are. But why? Then why do they call themselves 'elite'? And when they refer to the 'Common man' why do they address him as someone else? There's something missing...

the posters with blood on them, the red kurtas with hoarse voices. the eyes with all the veins, the hands which moved in every direction. the pens which wrote the scripts of revolutions, the papers which becam manuscripts. May be the voices were heard, or may be the voices just died down And we live on...

The same feeling, the same breeze, the same smell, the same images. Smells of memories, memories of joy, joy of freedom, and freedom, undefined. It's the same feeling, it's the same month of MARCH. It's back. I am a writier, as I have the same pen, and the same paper. BBut I am a poet, as I have the same zeal, the same smiles, the same tears. It is the same sound of the dry leaves. It's somehow the same poem, Suddenly, it's the same me...

(at Bhuj, Feb'10) That gate was open, we closed it so that people from outside could not come in. But are they actually outside? Are WE inside? Can't we be outside? I stretched my hand and opened the gate again, and suddenly... all of us were INSIDE...

Not many people were excited when I told them that I was leaving for Lothal. They said it's a boring place, with nothing, just a few broken structures. That's it! That's it? I reached the digging site at around 12pm. It was hot. I kept standing there. As a student of class 6th, I had studied about the Indus Valley civilisation for the first time. For the first time, I came across the names of the cities Mohen-jo-daro, Dholavira and Lothal. It was a magical world. A civilisation, which was one of the first in the world. Extremely well-planned and advanced. Two of these cities were in Gujarat. I had never lived in Gujarat and I had no relative from the state. So, these places, for me were as exciting and as adventurous as a fairyland...may be like Antarctica or the Egyptian pyramids. Harappa culture was quite far from me, or at least that's what my NCERT said! I kept standing there. It was hot and the site looked beautiful. Exactly the way it looked in my class 6 NCERT bo

It is just a 30 second advertisement fim. Just 30 secs. We take almost 50 seconds to open our eyes properly after a night's sleep. And this ad- just 30 seconds! But still so many doubts, tensions... VISUALS.I am enjoying it. Going to hospitals to look for the location. I have always loved the process of looking for locations. You imagine, then you follow this hit-and-trial method to check if there's actually a location which is similar to your imagination! Let's see if there's one. Afterall, it's just about those 30 seconds!

(I wrote this sitting on my berth in Ashram Express from Delhi to Ahmedabad. I was tired, but still I wanted to be up! I didn't want to sleep, but still I enjoyed the phase of not-doing-anything!) Yeh khuli aankhen, dekhen dhundla, har saans kahe ek kahani thakaan ki. Palken maano ho chattano se bhaari, Kaaya ab lage mitee hui si. Iss nidra ke kya kehne, ab andhera lage behtar, ujaale se!