Friday, August 29, 2014

Fasting Ganesh


An unusual depiction of Ganesh; my photograph, expressionistically taken in a hotel suite in Calcutta in 2010

Ganesh is very lovingly revered by all Hindus, Jains and Buddhists.

He is the son of Shiva and Parvati. He has a human body with an elephant's head.  He is the Remover of Obstacles, and is worshipped at the beginning of  every new venture, to ensure its success.

Here is one invocation of Ganesh, written by Girish Karnad at the beginning of his play Hayavadana:
May Vighneshwara, the destroyer of obstacles, who removes all hurdles and crowns all endeavours with success, bless our performance now. How indeed can one hope to describe his glory in our poor, disabled words? An elephant's head on a human body, a broken tusk and a cracked belly -- whichever way you look at him he seems the embodiment of imperfection, of incompleteness. How indeed can one fathom the mystery that this very Vakratunda-Mahakaya, with his crooked face and distorted body, is the Lord and Master of Success and Perfection? Could it be that this Image of Purity and Holiness, this mangala-moorty, intends to signify by his very appearance that the completeness of God is something no poor mortal can comprehend?

Like most of the gods, Ganesh has many names, which refer to their various attributes. One, which is used most endearingly, is Lambodara, One Who Has a Potbelly. (Lamba + Udara)

  
Ganesh with his two consorts, painted by Raja Ravi Varma, from my collection at home

One of his names is Ganapati, the Captain of the Ganas, an army of weirdos that follow Lord Shiva.

For more information about Ganesh, see his Wikipedia entry.

Ganesh's birth festival, Ganapati Chaturthi, is celebrated with a frenzy almost unparalleled in the Hindu pantheon of gods. Media, especially cinema and TV, do not tire, year after year, of depicting the frenzy with song and, dance, often performed under the influence of intoxicants.  Each successive year surpasses the previous year in its depiction.

This year, for me at least, who has never stepped out, not only to participate, but even to get a glimpse of these events, brought a slew of shocking and revolting pictures of the aftermath of these celebrations. Some soul decided to circulate these in an email, so I have no means of acknowledging, giving credit, or attributing motives, except to say that it can benumb you, whether or not you are a believer. The email exhorted the reader to circulate them. Here are three of them. If you are aroused to revulsion, introspection, and a sense of feeling stigmatised, maybe the purpose would be served.

Ganesh, Following the Celebrations at His Consecration




Thursday, August 28, 2014

Chime and Season


breeze makes rhymes
by swaying trees and their leaves
and chimes

songs of the season

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Embers of Desire, Ashes


This haunting song (see the video and English translation below), with music by Khayyam and lyrics by Kaifi Azmi, is considered to be one of Mohammed Rafi's best. To recover from the melancholy of it takes longer than one usually expects. Rafi's selection of a high octave from the start, as opposed to starting at a lower pitch and gradually reaching a climax of hopelessness, was a novel experiment. It was close to Kaifi Azmi and Rafi's hearts.

jaane kyaa dhoondhti rahti hain ye aankhen mujhmein
raakh ke dher mein sholaa hai na chingaari hai
jaane kyaa dhoondhti rahti hain ye aankhen mujhmein
raakh ke dher mein sholaa hai na chingaari hai

ab na wo pyaar na us pyaar ki yaadein baaki
aag yoon dil mein lagi kuchh na rahaa kuchh na bachaa
jiski tasveer nigaahon mein liye baithi ho
main wo dildaar nahin uski hoon khaamosh chitaa
jaane kyaa dhoondhti rahti hain ye aankhen mujhmein
raakh ke dher mein sholaa hai na chingaari hai

zindagi hans ke guzarti to bahut achchhaa thaa
khair hans ke na sahi ro ke guzar jaayegi
raakh barbaad muhabbat ki bachaa rakhi hain
raakh barbaad muhabbat ki bachaa rakhi hain
baar-baar isko jo chhedaa to bikhar jaayegi
jaane kyaa dhoondhti rahti hain ye aankhen mujhmein
raakh ke dher mein sholaa hai na chingaari hai

aarzoo jurm wafaa jurm tamannaa hai gunaah
ye wo duniyaa hai jahaan pyaar nahin ho saktaa
kaise baazaar kaa dastoor tumhen samjhaaun
bik gayaa jo wo khareedaar nahin ho saktaa
bik gayaa jo wo khareedaar nahin ho saktaa
jaane kyaa dhoondhti rahti hain ye aankhen mujhmein
raakh ke dher mein sholaa hai na chingaari hai
jaane kyaa dhoondhti rahti hain ye aankhen mujhmein
raakh ke dher mein sholaa hai na chingaari hai




I do not know what your eyes keep seeking in me
In this pile of ash
There is no spark
There is no ember 

There is no love now
Nor memories of it
The fire that devastated my heart
Nothing of it was left
Nothing was saved
The image you have in your eyes
I am not that lover
But his quiet pyre

It would be good if this life passed joyfully
But that is not to be
It will pass in sorrow
I have saved the ashes of my devastated love
They will scatter away
If you nudge them again and again

Desire is a crime, Love is a crime
Yearning for love is a sin
In this world there can be no love

How should I explain the rules of the bazaar
One who has sold his soul
Cannot pretend to be the buyer


---------------------------
Pravin Gandhi wrote about my blog post Leaf:

Why so self-deprecating! Reminds me of an extremely beautiful, but extremely despondent, Rafi song " jaane kya dhoondti rehti hai ye aankhen mujhme, /
Raakh ke dherey mei, shola hai na chingari hai"



Thursday, August 21, 2014

I Am a Leaf



I AM A LEAF
WITHOUT A BRANCH
I AM A CLOUD
WITHOUT DESTINATION
I AM A PATH
WITHOUT DIRECTION
I AM AN OCEAN
WITH DRIED-UP WATERS
I AM A LIGHT
WITHOUT A WICK
I AM A FIRE
WITHOUT A FLAME
I AM A PEAK
WITHOUT A MOUNTAIN
I AM A GOD
WITHOUT A TEMPLE

I AM
ALONE
IN A CROWD
ALIEN TO 
MYSELF

I AM A BROKEN MOON
A MAIMED SUN
A LOST IDENTITY

I AM I AM
A MISPLACED TIME
DISLOCATED SPACE
A FRAGMENTED LIFE

Sunday, August 17, 2014

Between Takes


1972


From a photo-shoot, old-fashioned compared with what goes by that name today, that was arranged by the President of the Photographic Society of Madras, sometime in the early 1970s, at his home. Two models were seated on the lawn, and the invitee members were to take informal pictures without background, props or lighting. 

It has not yet won any Grand Prix, but it sure is in the reckoning, surprise surprise. I am now told that it was "ahead of its time".

Friday, August 08, 2014

Wednesday, August 06, 2014

Google Song



Perky, funny, punny. Probably inspired by a bit of vastly popular Tamil-English doggerel, Why This Kolaveri Di (Why this anger, girl?), which has been viewed by 82,749,934 people and counting.

Monday, August 04, 2014

Remembering Kishore


Remembering Kishore Kumar for his talent, idiosyncrasies, voice modulations, verve. The falsettoes, the yodelling, the heights of hilarity, mischief, innocence. The abysmal depths of melancholy, irony, sadness, both of living and dying. For me, the total method, unintended and uncalibrated, made the man a genius.

Two articles with links to some songs, varied viewpoints and biographical details:

Sadness of a Genius: The Other Side of Kishore Kumar

When Kishore Kumar Said No to Indira Gandhi

An Interview with Kishore Kumar by Pritish Nandy

Caprice

yeh jeevan hai
is jeevan mein 
majboori kahin kabhi kam nahin

aap majboor hain
aapke jaise ham apni majboori se 
majboor
aapki majboori na sweekar

jo kahte hain majboor nahin 
voh unki majboori hai

to akhir jeevan hi majboori hai

------------------------------------
my loose translation:

this life
what a life
caprice seeking its justification

yours not acceptable to me
because I am tied down by mine
wherever it came from
in the way I evolved
or fell

those who claim to be beyond
these bonds of helplessness
are themselves slaves to their claim

is it not therefore life itself
which is contradictory and capricious

Friday, August 01, 2014

Time: Ahead Behind



I AM
BEHIND TIME

IN EVERYTHING
I THINK I WANT
TO TRY TO WISH TO DO
AND DON'T

WONDERING IF IT MATTERS
TO TIME:
IF IT IS SEEING, HEARING,
WONDERING, JUDGING.

I LIVE
OR AM I BEING
UNKNOWN TO ME
LIVED
BY LIFE
APPARENTLY PUSHING AND
DRAGGING ME
EVENTUALLY TO LEAVE ME

UNRESOLVED,
RATHER THAN DO,
I DON'T
RATHER THAN USE TIME
I STEP OUT OF IT
AND PLAINTIVELY
LET IT OVERTAKE ME
IGNORE ME

IS TIME BAFFLED
BY MY INEPTITUDE
AND CLUMSY INVOLUNTARY MOTIONS
THROUGH IT
INTO IT, OR OUT OF IT

WHAT IS TIME ANYWAY
AND FOR THAT MATTER, I?