Not name...but ideas...

A square shape. Yes. that is where I sit in my office. Much of the "working" world is divided into such square shapes. I wonder. Why couldnt it be circular? There would be no corners then. I stand up. I look around me. Everyone likes to believe that they are working very hard. Everyone likes to imagine that the work they are doing is important. And yet, everyone has a different experience each day at work. Some good days. Some ordinary days. Some forgettable ones. Something does not change though. And that is the working style of people. I would like to assume that it is very difficult to change one's work habits. Especially if one has spent a lifetime doing the same thing. Never asked questions. Why am I doing this? Am I doing the right thing? Can I perfect something? Over the last few months or so, I have come to believe that it is not that people dont want to ask questions. It is more that people are afraid of asking the questions. What is in it for me? Why should I even challenge what is working fine for me? This is perhaps the single biggest dilemma that has pierced the soul of every square shape. Name. Recognition. Appreciation. Fame. Wealth. Success. Most square shapes are weighed down by any of these. I do not claim to be immune to most of these. I admit. I do wish these. And no reason why anyone should not. But being imprisoned in these walls is not acceptable. A world without square shapes. A world without inhibitions. A world without restrictions. Yes. A world where ideas form the core and name is the edge. A world where one can work with freedom. Where one can work for learning. Where one can work for excellence. Where one can ask limitless questions. And yearn for infinite answers. Swami Vivekananda's message was "My name should not be made prominent. It is my ideas that I want to see realized." Exactly something that can break the shackles of these square shapes. Not name...but ideas. Not square shapes..but halls of creativity.

Solitude on the waterfront...

On the waterfront. I leave my office. The destination is clear and obvious. I am going to the building on the other side. It is lunch hour. A few quick strides and I should be there I say to myself. The cafeteria on the other side. Everyday I walk along this same path. A large expanse of water sits right besides my office. Ducks paddling as usual. The sky is a bit cloudy. Slight hint of a possible passing shower. I keep walking. Nothing new. I admit the scene is picturesque. Yet, I never stand and look around. I go my way. And yet, today I stand at the corner and observe. Everyday I see it from the back of my eye. It is difficult not to notice it. Right in the middle. Standing quite alone. Full of excitement. Full of energy. Yet I dont see anyone around me stand and spare a few moments for this view. Some are busy. Some appear to be busy. Others dont care. I turn to look across the waters. And there it is. Aiming to touch the sky. That solitary fountain...

Water keeps gushing at a rapid pace. I have not seen it rest to this date. White as snow. And I see so many shapes with every passing moment. The birds do not seem to mind. The old crane is busy looking for fish. The lone pelican just flies by. The fountain then throws water a few notches high. Saying hello to the pelican, are we? I shake my head. For once, it appears that the fountain has a mind of its own. A will of its own. And perhaps a heart too. I wonder. I am curious. How does the fountain keep going? And what does it achieve by throwing water continuously at some random heights every few seconds? I keep walking. Few yards away. I stop. It just dawned on me. I throw a fleeting glance on the edge of the waterfront. I can see the reflection of the trees. I can see the rocks sliding slowly. But that is not what I am looking for. Aha. There it is. The ripples across the waters. So that is the secret of the fountain I say to myself. How come I never realized it? More than a year now. I trace the origin of the ripples. Indeed. The fountain has something to say. And the waters are listening. Every leap of the fountain. Every pulse of the fountain. It tries to convey its innermost thoughts. And with every ripple across the waters, it hopes that someone will listen. Alas. The ripples die as they reach the shore. The voice is unheard. And still, the fountain keeps going higher. With every leap and every high, it thinks it might be able to get someone to listen. If only, someone would listen...

I get my lunch. On my way back, I look at the fountain one more time. There is a smile on my face. Why did I not think of this before? Ofcourse, it has to be so. And it cannot be otherwise. I was mistaken. The fountain does not want anyone to listen to it. Imagine !! The fountain wants to listen to everyone. Even in solitude, it does everything to listen to everyone. To everything. My thoughts. My feelings. My joys. My sorrows. With every ripple, the fountain tries to connect to me. Tries to listen to my inner thoughts. Even in solitude, it tries to reach out to me. It is someone whom I can confide in. My wishes. My concerns. My prayers. The fountain is listening. Absorbs everything. And then letting it out. Higher. Farther. Towards the sky, As if reaching out to some higher power. Some unknown power. Telling Him what I am thinking. Telling Him what I am feeling. I start walking. Knowing there is solitude on the waterfront. Knowing that the leap of the fountain is the leap of faith....

Depths of fulfillment and loss...

Another year. Some more thoughts. The holidays were a welcome break. But, now the daily pangs at work are back. The last few weeks have witnessed a medley of emotions. Explored new cities. Visited new food joints. On the other hand, the atmosphere at workplace has become more "blocked". No desire to dwell on that for now. Moving on. Have been catching up on my reading over the last few days. A question has engrossed me over the last few hours. Kiran Desai asks very plainly in her "The Inheritance of Loss". Initially, I simply read the line. And proceed to the next page. Two pages later. I come back to this. Dont know why. And ever since, the question has captured my attention. Could fulfillment ever be felt as deeply as loss??

The two things seem so very different. And yet, they are being spoken of in the same breath. Why? Perhaps both are events that evoke strange feelings. Lets take fulfillment. One waits for something for a long time. Sighs of anxiety eventually give way to sighs of relief. One is happy. But then it is over. There is nothing more to wait for. Suddenly, emptiness pervades everything around you. Now, consider the other part. Loss. It happens in a flash. And then something is gone forever. Words seem so futile. And one does not know what to do. Or whom to turn to. But, then slowly one learns to cope with the situation. Over time, the hurt slowly vanishes. Marks may remain. Nevertheless, once in a while, one is reminded of that loss. As for the question itself. The depths of both are pretty similar. And it is quite possible that both achieve the same effect. To borrow the lines of a Hindi film song, "my dil goes hmmm". In both cases, it really does. Its just that the underlying tenor may be slightly different. Actually, an interesting aspect to consider is this. Fulfillment for one is loss for someone else. Be it the race for success, or wealth or even love. Some have their wish fulfilled. Some just accept disappointment and move on. I guess thats life...

As I finish up with this piece today, I am left with this thought. Finding fulfillment at the expense of loss. Would it ever be so that a loss actually leads to fulfillment? A heartbroken person will surely be able to answer this...

Walking down the journey of my life....

Walking down the journey of my life
Looking across the depths of the valley
I saw a beautiful angel glide gleefully
Adorned in flowers singing an old song
Those wings of compassion and mystique
Dressed in the color of christmas orchids
Even the glorious sunset vista was in awe
Time was still as I gazed at her lovely face
Could she be my true love I asked myself
And then she disappeared into the woods
Never have our footsteps crossed since
And yet her memory lingers to this day
Hope to see her again atleast one more time
Before the end of this journey of my life