Friday 28 February 2014

Haecceity

Two years and four months.
Time had moved on but Fate seemed adamant to cling onto him.
It would have been easier to remember him, had she forgotten the intoxicating rush of his breath on her neck.
She had never loved the sound of her name more, than in that breathless gasp.
Taking a stroll in his deep molten eyes was like checking-into Hotel California.
A tattoo couldn't compete with the permanence of his boyish grin on her memory.
Flying carpets and talking puppies would seem believable after meeting him.

There’s that thing they say about the one that got away.

Now, she knew exactly why.

Monday 26 November 2012

Culture Chameleon



My mother sometimes teases me with a dictum: "Always know where you come from. If you don't, you won't know where you're going." While I have been trying to figure out where I really come from, most of my life seems to be about where I'm going. On occasion I visit my childhood and wonder how it is that I have strayed so far from the culture of my early youth. As a young girl, I spoke Gujarati, Hindi, Marathi and English, went to "poojas" with my parents during Diwali. My grandmother, "Dadiji", would put me to sleep with tales of pranks she played as a child or Shakespeare legends; 'Hamlet' being her favourite, or Akbar and Birbal folklore. But this was a long time ago and the path I have taken now makes these memories feel distant.
Growing up in a secular household in Mumbai city among people of many cultures, I have never been comfortable labelling myself as "Gujrati." In fact, my parents have encouraged me to subscribe more to Mahatma Gandhi's theory that "No culture can live if it attempts to be exclusive." My father grew up in a worldly family, and was exposed to horizons beyond India from an early age. He has transferred this internationalist upbringing to me, teaching me the value of looking beyond one society's set of standards. My mother was raised with 5 siblings in a tiny Bombay tenement, and unlike most girls then, was pushed to focus solely on her studies. In turn, she has provided me with opportunities she was denied as a child such as playing sports and travelling the world. Despite their different backgrounds; my parents, together, have encouraged me to think and live in as many ways as possible.
It is with an open mind that I have embraced music, which has challenged me to not just think, but also to feel, and to trust passion. When I was three years old, I began to play songs by ear on the keypad of my nursery rhyme song book. Seeing this aptitude, my parents encouraged me to enroll in piano lessons. As a member of the Choir of my school, I have sung in many styles ranging from gospel to jazz to old school pop. As a soloist, I have found my voice in genres like rock , and I find myself improvising on ghazals; a legacy passed on to me by my Mum; where there are no concepts of "right" and "wrong". Someone once said, "There are no mistakes in Music."
Music pushes me to improvise; to stretch what I perceive my boundaries to be; and to be willing to explore unfamiliar territory while retaining my classical background. This synthesis has served me well in performing for audiences from all walks of life. In able to identify with Japanese businessmen, suburbanites, inner-city children, those versed in Bach and those who've never heard of him; I have found a sense of direction in my life. By transcending cultures and even societal boundaries; music has fueled my desire to be an agent of change for a future, and a better world. I begin now by making a difference on a microscopic scale- teaching a bilingual third grade class as a substitute, writing articles and poems for my school magazine as well as national level newspapers, campaigning and participating in social awareness drives, and communicating with celebrities on behalf of my society. My voice, however, is in a perpetual state of growth, and tomorrow it will touch more people.
So in response to my mother, I believe that where one physically comes from- an accident of fate, if you will- has little bearing on one's culture. Culture is not simply hereditary; rather, it is a lifestyle, a way of thought and expression. I am a thinker, a copywriter, a musician, a poet, a dreamer, an achiever, a traveller, a laugher, a reformer, a linguist, and a questioner. This is my "non-exclusive" culture. E.E.Cumings once wrote, "You shall above all things be glad and young. For if you're young,whatever life you wear, it will become you; and if you're glad, whatever's living will yourself become." I take his words to heart in looking back on that abnormally happy, free-spirited little girl with curly black hair and a mind of her own. "Aayusha" is the Sanskrit word for "Life" and I don't think my parents could have better mapped my future. After all, Art and Culture are lifelong pursuits; both raise more questions than they answer.

Tomorrow, I will be strong


Tomorrow I will be strong.
But not today.

Today,
let me shrug off the reality I fear.
Heave my shoulders and let go.
Envelop myself in lucid tears.
Accept the harshness of a no.

Shut off from this cruel world.
Break down and burn inside
Understand the comfort in being weak
Momentarily lapse into a void
Consumed by a limbo I desperately seek.

Permit this vulnerability,
This slipping into a human face,
Simply because, It’s not everything that we can put up with
Saintly wisdom and refined grace.

I beg to wind my body and crouch like in the womb,
Sometimes, feeling lonely can also be a boon.

Let me cry today, because I know I’m wrong;
But I promise, tomorrow, I will be strong. 

First.


There's something strangely exciting and terrifying about writing your first post on your first blog ever.

That auto-correct works overtime and those fingers never seem to leave Backspace alone.

Am I supposed to be politically correct all the time?

Can I mention my crush?

OhmyGod, what if the Boss reads this?

Can I attempt humour..or will I fail..??

Whoa.

I guess I'll just have to find out.

xx