Soul of a Man

18th February, 2014.

                                “Won't somebody tell me?
                                  Answer if you can,
                                   I want someone to tell me
                                  What is the soul of a man??

What is the soul of man? I don’t know. As a fact, no one does. They only interpret. Humans, when they run out of answers, turn to interpret things, does not matter if they are right or not. It would be an overstatement if I say I tried to find the answer to steven sterns’ question. Not being any different from others, I too tried to interpret, and to be truthful, I am sure mine won’t be different from the other.

In almost every theological explanation, it is said, the soul is the fragment of the Supreme Being. I won’t delve into that much intellectuality, I am not that good, but it’s more than that. It has to be. Or how else can we explain the little voice in the back of our head? The voice that rules out the dilemmas of head and heart, and shows the way. The one who bares itself to all the atrocities of worlds, the pains and hurt inflicted by every other person, yet walks with nonchalance. With all the bleeding wounds, it dwells quite deliberately in the places where a scar would be inevitable, yet doesn’t back off, just to search a light of happiness and hope. And perhaps, it searches the better half of itself, which also bears the same wounds. And for whom? The mind which is cold and precise, and the heart, whose opinions are hardly relevant in these days, a caged bird. Irony is we never listen to the soul. We tend to forget that the voice of soul is always the amalgamation of the voices of head and heart together, who by the way do not go along always. We are so afraid of things, of results, that we deliberately take the wrong choice, with reluctance.

And as it happens, in that process, we turn cold, loose the compassion, wear mask, a façade of happiness and carry on with a fake smile. The soul, as I have felt at times, tries to cry out, but the sheer cruelty of our decisions asphyxiates it. And in due course of time, we, or the soul to be precise, loose some great powers. We turn a blind eye to the cries of our heart who seeks love and freedom, loose the power of raising a dead from grave. So much so, we even ignore the cries of another heart which is either lost or is dying. We have became cruel, monsters. We love to kill both the souls, that tendency is like being addicted to drug abuse. And we do not want help, denying the fact that something is lost or dead inside. And I find those people liars and cowards, who claim to listen to the soul, as they are almost always visibly taking wrong and devastating decisions, depriving us of love. Soul is never wrong. I know this, because I have seen or done all of these. I too was cold, without empathy, remorse and compassion. Or I still am! We are losing the touch.

My soul is lost, mind is on the verge of a criminal lunacy and heart is beating in a shattered state. But then, I won’t bother my supposed readers with my trivial rants. Nobody cares.And why should they?
The reason is simple regarding all these…we all are searching for the soul’s answer; or the soul itself…maybe this will keep us reminding not to ignore when either comes.

Regards.

Running Out of Time.

4th February, 2014.

When I was in primary school, I always waited for the month of February. Us Hindus have this saraswati pujo, where the goddess of education and talent is worshipped on an auspicious date in this month. Moreover, according to Indian calendar, this day is also worshipped as the “Indian valentine’s day”, or vasant panchami as we call it.

Neither of the above said reasons made any difference to me, nor does makes one now, so to speak. One Valentine ’s Day is enough and I am not in the good books of god, never have been; what really mattered to me was the fact that I will be meeting my friends. Our school holds a function or event or whatever every year to celebrate this day. Yes, we met every day at school itself, but this particular date had something very peculiar in it. The sheer excitement of a kid for reasons unknown. I still don’t know why it occurred.

By the time I came to secondary school, I made it a point to make sure that I do not miss this day for any given reason, and that all of my friends must be there. Maybe due to the dawning realization that after the school days are over, we may or may not be able to meet up… funny how things work. We never meet except this day. I passed out of my school 3 years back.

Today when I reached school, not many people from my batch showed up. Hmm. I’ve expecting all, or at least many of them. But I cannot say I was disappointed, I knew this would happen. We all are running out of time. We don’t even have time for ourselves. He’s doing job, she’s studying or something, they’re busy with something…busy busy busy!!   Some would actually say on reading this- “they are career oriented, you should be like that too.” But why should it mean we cannot take a time out for friends? For the people who once were the beating hearts of our lives, now are descending into oblivion, an abyss. A few years later, I know, we won’t even remember each other’s faces, that how do we sound or did. A bleak name, just to be remembered on occasions. And the bad news is, we are not even trying to stop it from happening, just letting it to happen, not that we are out of any power or such, but the willingness is depleting.

We can always continue with our ‘jobs’ or ‘study’ or this and that, all the bloody year to be fair, but then, it does not mean anything to us these days. Friends. It has become an old fashioned notion. Just finish this bloody race, settle down, no time for  fun, friends, love…
Maybe it’s too late. Maybe we did run out of time.

Regards.