WAR AND PEACE IN THE 21ST CENTURY

“So, Nana, how was it like in your day? The dark ages?” asked Harmony, keen to know her grandma’s story. Our professor told us to read ‘War and Peace’ and told us a little about the different wars in the past. She said that we are living in the dark ages again.

“Oh shush! You make me sound really old. But then I am 90 years old.”

Sitting beside her on the plush sofa she continued, “Well, I was around your age during the Second World War. At that time I didn’t really understand what was happening. I just remember my mum telling me that the world was divided into two and they fought each other to win first place.

‘How silly!’ I had thought. ‘Why fight for first place? All you have to do is prove yourself better than the other.’

I didn’t realize then that they were fighting to prove themselves worse than the other. I used to be frightened listening about the bombings on the radio and hear my parents whispering about how many people died. You are lucky to be living in this generation when there is no more war.”

Shaking her head in fierce indignation Harmony replied, “But Nana, don’t you see? Nothing has really changed. It’s not the Second World War but the world is still divided, and not just in two but so many parts that it’s hard to keep track of who is fighting whom!”

Harmony went on ranting, “Isn’t it true, Nana? People no longer need an excuse to fight. In a race to gain the upper hand in finances, resources, weapons, religion and ideals we seem to have won everything but lost ourselves! We are literate with no real knowledge, have electricity but live in darkness, are well-fed but always hungry, rich but constantly begging for more, are busy running around but choose to be passive when the time comes to act, constantly talk without really communicating, smile but are not really happy, want independence but cannot bear to be alone with ourselves, seem peaceful but are eternally conflicted.”

“Why are we so constantly at war, Nana? Not just the wars between countries and people but also with ourselves? Can we ever be happy? Can we ever be peaceful?”

Impressed with Harmony’s awareness and understanding beyond her years, her grandmother replied, “Yes, I agree life seems to be regressing instead of progressing. Sometimes it’s hard to hope for peace and happiness. But we mustn’t underestimate ourselves. And we mustn’t underestimate God. Even when science and technology get exhausted, He’ll still live. As long as we believe that He lives in us, there will always be a chance for peace. After all, He lives through us so it’s our duty to spread His message. It’s up to us to bring about a change. Peace grows from within us, from Him!”

It was that very moment when Harmony decided to live up to her name and emanate peace and harmony all around her.

Lay them down

We hide all our worries,
We hide all our fears
Always hesitant and afraid
Embarrassed to show our tears

Fear is natural,
Don't ever feel ashamed
Don't let it conquer you
Don't let it maim.

The more we conceal it,
The more fear grows
It is we who give it
The strength to impose.

Let your fears show,
You don't need to hide
Don't let it keep
building up inside.

By giving our fears power over us
We've learned to fear fear itself
So afraid to fight it,
We've hidden it and kept it safe in a shelf

Start facing your fears
Pick them one by one
Just look them in the face,
You have the power to stun.

Your fears aren't all that mighty,
They're just built up in your head
Leave them bare and naked
They'll crumble down instead

When you don't fear your fears,
Nothing can push you down.
Don't shy away any more
Surrender them, lay them down.

Who gave you the right?

Well, she was always a weakling

Got sick often, couldn’t keep up with everything you did

Low immunity got her down

So you called her a wuss!

Who gave you the right?

When you tell ghost stories

He shuts his eyes tight and tries to drown out the sound

They echo of memories and dreams that he tried to forget

So you called him a chicken

Who gave you the right?

She’s never liked sports

She is a brainy nerd and she likes it

Just cause she couldn’t run as fast or hold the bat correctly

You called her a loser

Who gave you the right?

You didn’t like that he stood up against you

So you decided to be a bully and call him names

Just cause your ego got a little bruised

Well, he’s scared of having a voice now

Who gave you the right?

She dresses and talks differently than everyone else

And make the queerest of friends

She doesn’t fit into a social box that you created, the one you are so comfortable in

So you called her a sissy

Who gave you the right?

You live by certain rules, always cool and popular

One day you broke those very rules and did what your heart said

And got called every single one of those names that you used for others

It pricked and stung and hurt like never before

Well, who gave them the right?

You did.

My To-Do List

It’s something that’s always on my mind
And keeps my head to the grind.
It pops into my head the moment I wake
Why can’t it just give me a break!
Every waking moment, it runs marathons in my brain
Getting some shut-eye at night is a task that goes in vain
If the list is not done, it’ll haunt me through the night
Dreams of completing them can give such a fright!
To do the things I have to do
To do this and to do that,
To clean my cupboard and make my bed
To complete assignments and oil my head
To make some calls before the day ends
Stitch the holes in my socks and make amends
To cook and keep my tummy happy
To do some work on the lappy
To send those emails and answer more
To complete those blinking household chores
To sweep the house and mop the floor
To pick each call and answer the door
To wash my clothes and set them straight
Are just some of the things I seem to hate.
The list can just go on and on
And make a person sad and forlorn.
I struggle to check those tasks off the list
And double check to see what I’ve missed.
I get up fairly bright in the morning
And there goes again, that familiar warning.
Those tasks were not done, ‘twas all a dream
“Not the whole rigmarole again!”, I scream.

Making and Mending Childhood!

As I walked into the Press Club Conference Room on the evening of 11^th June, 2015, I didn’t know what to expect. I was promised an insightful evening of talks, poetry and music but I think I got so much more.

One of the great topics of discussion and debate, along with women’s safety of course, is the violence against children. And that’s all it remains- a discussion. I had the wonderful chance of meeting an NGO called Hamara Footpath who have taken this discussion further and are actually working wonders for the street children in Mumbai by educating and empowering them.

The evening began with two artists from the NSPA (Natural Streets for Performing Arts) Mayur and Harsh, a duo that call themselves MH01, delighted everyone, especially the children with their lovely Sufi music and singing. They chose famous songs in order to get the children to sing along and soon had the whole audience humming and clapping along with them. The children of Hamara Footpath clambered forth and recited poems written by Vignesh Smitha. A multi-lingual poem that brings out a child’s view and his yearning for respect called “Half Chapati” was the highlight of the evening.

Taha Jodiawala, a co-founder of the NGO, explained the work that the NGO does. With anecdotes of his own experiences, he expounded on how they have come a long way from just teaching the children the very basic of English, math and soft skills to admitting their children in full-fledged English schools. A couple of child counsellors and psychologists from Rubaroo created awareness about child sexual abuse.

The final part of the evening was a poetry reading by Jane Bhandari who read some of her own works as well as poems from To Catch a Poem: An Anthology for Young People. She read out quirky and funny poems that would specially appeal to the children. This amazing Culture Beat was organized by Menka Shivdasani and Anju Makhija.

It was heart-warming to hear some of the kids yell “Bye, Didi!” as I walked home that night. It's amazing how their hearts are ever open to people in spite of all the hardships they go through. When will we open our hearts to them?

A musical evening

There are some well-known quotes like- ‘When words fail, music speaks.’ But the truth is that even when everything else fails, music can still speak to you. To prove and demonstrate this, Anil Srinivasan, a pianist, educator and innovator gave a talk about the magic of music called Pianos in the Playground at the MCubed Library in Bandra on Saturday, 6^th June 2015, a Mumbai Local Event organized by Junoon theatre.

Pianos in the Playground wasn’t just an ordinary talk. The peaceful and tranquil ambience of the library enhanced and intensified the magic that Anil Srinivasan created. He began by playing a snippet of Happy Birthday, something as simple as that and explained how the brain performs a task called ‘thought completion’. He also elaborated how music can be used to teach difficult subjects because it is a memory trigger. He elucidated the functions of the brain, how it accepts musical inputs, collaborates with parts of the brain like the frontal cortex and amygdala and then gives the necessary output. A simple thing like the rain clap we learnt in school can be used to teach rhythm and music. Anil Srinivasan blew everyone’s minds with his talk which not only included musical but also psychological terms. This, he said, was due to a research he had done in order to rope music in along with his studies.

Playing the piano from the age of age, he is extremely well-versed in Carnatic music, Indian classical and western music and can serenade you with his renditions of the same. He takes classical pieces and makes them his own. His description of how a tiny pause in a musical piece could symbolize a shudder of a leaf or the waves on the ocean revealed his immense love for music. He wowed us when his played some of Mozart’s variations of the well-known Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. Anil Srinivasan has not hidden his musical genius under a bushel but had used it to light thousands of lives. He uses his music to educate thousands of children in South India and also as a therapeutic tool to better some lives.

His eloquence and sense of humour charmed his audience ranging from young kids to a few young-hearted senior citizens. He included short stories intermittently in his talk to appeal to his younger audience. At the end of his talk he welcomed questions and feedback and explained his whole journey from a student to an educator and how he had always carried his music along with him. He stressed on the fact that it is important to love music, interpret it yourself, make it your own and form your own conclusions. The best part of the evening was when he took requests from his audience and launched into a medley starting with the Raga Bhairavi, a few other Indian classicals, Bollywood songs like Badtameez Dil, variations of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star and ended with When the Saints Go Marching In. That brought on a huge applause. Everyone left the library with a smile on their face that evening.

Inspiration

Poor Newton didn’t know

What held us to the earth

Twas the apple falling down

That gave gravity new birth

 

Twas the same case with Alexander

He rose each time he fell

Finally when he was inspired

He said it rang a bell

 

Thomas Edison too worked hard

With all his might from dusk to dawn

But we all know the exact moment he was inspired

Twas when the light bulb came on

 

Inspiration comes to us

In varied shapes and sizes

It may catch us unaware

Within its many guises

 

It may come within the blink of an eye

Or hit us square in the face

It has caused us to become

The advanced human race

 

A few great lines within a speech

An exquisite work of art

Works its wonders through your being

And that’s what sets you apart

 

Inspiration is the key force

That will lead you to your success

And your story might inspire

The next person in distress

 

So be inspired and inspire

Make sure the chain moves on

You may change someone else’s life

 

Even after you’re gone

Grow up, Will you!

        Cross your feet, elbows off the table, hold the spoon in your right hand, don't slouch! No playing in the mud. Don't get your clothes dirty. And the list goes on and on. Any idea who these instructions are for?

        Tiny toddlers and kindergartners hear this almost everyday. In the hope of raising an ideal child who fits into society's perfect mould, we now have children who would prefer to sit at home and play on their Play Stations rather than go out, make new friends and have a ball. In the urgent need of preparing the citizens of tomorrow, we have deprived them of being children today.

        Our fondest childhood memories are of evenings spent on the grounds playing out late, being yelled at to return home. Photos reveal hundreds of naughty, impish and mischievous smiles that were caught unawares. Today, its near to impossible to get candid pictures of children since they have already learned to pose and look 'cool'. School kids talk about Honey Singh and Sunny Leone and how amazing they are. They learn to sing all the popular songs and groove to them without thinking whether the songs even appealed to them personally or not. They try to emulate the way grown-ups dress and follow suit, pun intended.

          They miss out on all the actual childhood experiences that shape us into who we are. As a result tomorrow's future will raise clones who have similar pasts with a similar reservoir of memories and experiences and nothing unique.

           The next time you ask a kid to 'Grow up', think twice and maybe just allow them to grow.

Pinch of Salt

If variety is the spice of life,
I've got a mighty spicy one.
With myriad flavours and colours
My taste buds definitely have fun!

First are the evergreens,
Perpetually dripping with sweetness,
You can always count on them
To be your loyal witness.

Then comes the sour
With a slight taste of tang,
You accept them as they are,
Though of your loses, they sang.

The challenges in life mount each day
With every bite of the annoyingly bitter.
However hard to swallow they may be,
They go a long way in making life better.

The tantalizing and delicious
Make it a point to add flavour.
They are the reason why
The beauty in life, you can savour.

Never forget that precious handful,
Who helped you learn from your faults
Cause life is bland and boring
Without that pinch of salt!

The Little Window

The first rays bring with it
One more dreaded day
It says to me, "The night has passed,
Will you live today?"

When the gavel pounded the hardwood,
And the bench stood firm,
The sentence was declared for life.
A criminal I was termed.

Little did I know then,
A death sentence could've given me life
However few the moments,
They would have sufficed.

Awaiting that final moment now,
I die each hour of the day.
Staring into that ray of light,
Watching the sparrows at play.

Beyond that tiny window,
With the tightly spaced bars
The world struggles to catch up with time
And whizzes by in cars.

"I could lend you some time, you know",
I whisper out in hope
In desperation for a human touch
Through those bars, my hands grope.

The jays continue to mock me,
"We're free! We can fly!
You can no more be like us,
No matter how hard you try."

My heart yearns the impossible,
To be on the other side
The constraints remind me once again,
My time, I'll have to bide.

An instrument of torture it is,
In the disguise of hope,
that innocent looking window, a never-ending kaleidoscope.

A darker hue I now behold,
I am merely time's prey
I heave a sigh of despair again
I lived another day...