Don’t mess up my zen man!

Was reading Isaac Asimov’s Azazel last night. Recommend it to anyone who is lookhttp://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifing for some clean, honest to goodness, ‘un-perverted’ (not a word) laughs. Anyhow, in one of the stories there was a reference to the quantum physics observer effect/uncertainty principle (or something along the line) that suggests that the outcome of a phenomena kinda depends of the observer and in some way or the other, the observer’s consciousness meddles with the outcome of the phenomena and thus, shapes the reality of the universe around him.

So, it is somewhat possible that an observer with a lot of negativity can jinx the world around him. Well, in the story there was a guy who called himself a teleklutz – a person who send Murphy’s law into overdrive wherever he goes. Got me thinking,…am I a teleklutz myself?

I’m probably worse. Been feeling that way for a while now. I don’t just mess things up around me, unconsciously, God knows I’ve been messing things up with my eyes wide open, for myself, and everybody around me. Then the world around me is messed up as it is and I sometimes have this feeling that it is my fault too! (Can you believe the ego on this guy?)

Anyhow, not here to tell a sob story. I went to bed telling myself that if I could mess things up by making things wrong, then perhaps I could straighten things out by …well…by being positive. Well, when you’ve been bitter, mad, angry and felt hollowed out and dumb for long enough, you’d try anything.

So I tried to go to sleep, playing shamanic drums in my ears and budda’s smile on my lips…u know, bringing on the ‘zen’ with all my might. The drums in the head kept on missing bits and Budda’s looked kinda retarded but thankfully I went under soon enough so that didn’t really matter.

Dragged myself outta the bed in the morning and remembered everything. Determined to keep up the ‘positive vibe’ I started on the way to work with the retarded smile from the night before. Well, 400 meters from home, came the first hiccup. Forgot my wallet.

But wasn’t about to let that ruin my zen. Picked up the pieces, and made it to work (an hour late as usual). The first smoke break (approximately 25 mins after settling down in my station, realizing that I should congratulate myself for setting down at work with excellent focus), - the weather was nice, smoke buddy was in a good mood, and determined to keep my ‘zen’, I was about to make my first unintelligent remarks of the day. Guess what, the universe wouldn’t have it. It wouldn’t let me ruin http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifit for myself or my audience. Stopping me from saying stupid things – now that’s no easy feat these days. Would nothing short of a divine intervention and that’s exactly what I got.

And it came the only way it could, the intervention - simple, subtle and a bit, just a bit, smelly. It came in the form…of bird poo. Crow to be exact, right from upstairs, on top of my upstairs. (Not to worry. No meaningful or intelligible thought got hurt in the process; all of ‘em vacated the location months back.) How very...zen!

And the day went well in the end. Saw some nice pictures. (I mean really looked at them) And also found this amazing video. Especially liked the bit with the angry God; loved the bit with the tree of life. Posting it here, as a consolation prize for all who actually stayed and endured this mad rant. :S

Re-BORN / ADAM & EVE from TAKAHIRO KIMURA on Vimeo.

Something wont change

Time and again I’ve tried
To speak my mind
To Get ‘em out in the open, on a paper
Hoping they'd soften the blows
leave 'em trailing behind.
But the poet in me is gone and don’t know when he’ll be back
If he’ll ever be back.

So I do, what I shoulda done
I turn to them…the one’s been here and gone
Dead poets, (No, I don’t care for the movie)
b kind, send me a song.

And sure as day light
they say it right
says it all, says it clear
and Just as it was, long long ago
I hold ‘em close, hold ‘em dear.
I don't have to say a thing.
Its all been said and done.
Before it even begun.

Something hasn’t changed after all.
Something wont change... ever.


-------

Reluctance

Out through the fields and the woods
And over the walls I have wended;
I have climbed the hills of view
And looked at the world, and descended;
I have come by the highway home,
And lo, it is ended.

The leaves are all dead on the ground,
Save those that the oak is keeping
To ravel them one by one
And let them go scraping and creeping
Out over the crusted snow,
When others are sleeping.

And the dead leaves lie huddled and still,
No longer blown hither and thither;
The last lone aster is gone;
The flowers of the witch hazel wither;
The heart is still aching to seek,
But the feet question "Whither?"

Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?

~ Robert Frost

poison in every wine...

Now I drink pain in every delight
And poison in every wine;
I never knew it would be so bitter
To be alone,
Alone, without you.

~ Hermann Hesse (Without You)

Aint nobody’s fault

Aint nobody’s fault and sure aint mine
That I cannot tell the time.
Know that watch there works just fine.
But that damned thing was never mine.
That’s the way, and suites me fine.
What’d I care if its 5 or 9.
But it aint nobody’s fault but mine
That this guy here aint got no time.

রূপান্তর

সেই কবে, বহুদিন আগে
বসন্ত বেলায় বেঁধে ক্ষনিকের ঘর
মৌসুমী সখী মম, দেখেছিল
সপনের ঘোরে,
আমার রূপান্তর |

ঘর লাগা চোখে সুন্দরীতমা
চেয়েছিল মুখ পানে
কাছে সরে এসে, একান্ত গোপনে
বলেছিল কানে কানে:

”আমি দেখেছি তোমায়,
সাঝের বেলায়
চলেছ আমারি সাথে .
হেটেছি দুজন, খানিকটা ক্ষণ
হাত ধরা ছিল হাতে |

বেলা ফুরোলে, ফুরোলো পথও
দাঁড়ালে নদীর তীরে
অস্ফুট স্বরে বললে কি যেন
দেখলে আমাকে ফিরে |

তারপর, কি যে হলো
পলক ফিরতে দেখি
আমার চেনা
তোমার শরীর,
এক মুহুর্তে, বদলে গেল !.
যেন এই স্বাভাবিক
এমনি কথা ছিল !”

“কোন একদিন, জানিনাত কবে
হয়ত এমনি হবে …
স্বপন নদীর তীরে
তুমি মহীরুহ হয়ে রবে |”

সুর্যের রথে চেপে সময় গিয়েছে চলে,
সময় যেমন যায়.
চপলা ষোড়শী হারিয়েছে সেও ,
স্মৃতিরা যেমন হারায় |.
সাত সাগরের পাড় থেকে
জীবন নিয়েছে তারে ডেকে |

আর আমার

জীবন থাকেনি থেমে
যেমন থামেনা কারো
হেঁটে হেঁটে গিয়েছি চলে
পথ আরো আরো |.
জীবনের প্রয়োজনে
শরীর হয়েছে পটু খাদ্য অন্নেষণে |

বদলেছে মনও, বুঝেছে সেও
বিষাদ অপেখ্খা বিস্মৃতি শ্রেয়
কল্পনদী, অবাক বৃখ্খ,
কদাচ পরে না মনে |

একদা হঠাত, বহুদিন পরে
মনের ভিতরে, গহন অন্তরে
অশরীরী আকার কারা পায়েচারী করে |

তারা ডেকে নেয় মরে, সপনের ঘোরে
জীবন নদীর পাড়ে যেথা
চিরায়ত খেলা করে |.

দিধা সকলি অবসানে
প্রাণ ফিরে আসে প্রাণে
চোখ মেলে দেখি –
জলের শরীর মোর
মিশে গাছে জলে
ঘটেছে রূপান্তর
নবজন্ম পলে |

হাজার বছরের পাড়ে
অচীন বৃখ্খ এক রয়েছে দাড়ায়ে
চিনতে পার কি তারে?

Red dwarf

খসে পড়া নক্ষত্রের মত
দ্রূত পতনশীল
রাতের শেষ সিগারেটের
লাল আলো
অনুসরণ করে আমার ক্রমশ:
ঝাপসা হয়ে আসা
নিদ্রাতুর চোখের দৃষ্টি।

দ্রুত, অতি দ্রুত শেষ হয়
নির্বীর্য, আশাভঙ্গের সেই পর্ব|
নিঃশেষিত নিকোটিন শলাকার
নিরাসক্ত গমন পথ
ব্যার্থ হয়
কোনো নতুন ছন্দের জন্ম দিতে|

জীবনানন্দ, রবীন্দ্রনাথ, ফ্রস্ট, পো
একে একে ফিরে যান সকলে
সমভাবে ব্যার্থ হয়ে
অরন্যরোদন আর কতকাল?
অমৃত, সে চিরদিনই অমৃত – সত্য|
কিন্তু তা ধারণ করবার পাত্র কোথায়?

ভাঙ্গা হাঁড়ি তবু চেষ্টা করে যায়
আরো কিছুক্ষণ, নিজেকে জোড়া লাগাবার,
চেষ্টা করে ইতস্তত ছড়ানো
বিশৃঙ্খল অংশগুলোকে
কোনো এক দৈব জাদুবলে
সুসজ্জিত করতে,
ঘাটে ঘাটে মেলাতে.
এতে সে খানিকটা সফলও হয়ত হয়
কিন্তু দিনের আলোয় সবই
ভ্রান্ত প্রমান হয়।

দিনের আলো তাই চাই না আর
মুমুর্ষ দানবের রক্তচক্ষু কটাক্ষই কাম্য।
সুসংবদ্ধ ছন্দ, ছত্র, ছবির প্রয়োজন নেই,
প্রয়োজন নেই সুষম ভাব, ভাষা, ভালবাসার
পতনশীল নক্ষত্রের নিষ্ফল আক্রোশ যদি
আজ রাতে
জন্ম দিতে পারে
একটি অগ্নিময়, নারকীয় দুঃস্বপ্নের|

Translation
[neither good nor accurate but who cares! its mine]


Like a dead star
Falling fast
the fiery red
of the last cigarette, is chased
by these two
stony, sleepy eyes.

Quickly, too quickly it ends -
The episode of sterile disillusionment.
The tracks made in space
By the careless nicotine bearer
Fails to produce
Any new beat.

Jivanananda, Tagore, Frost and Poe
All retires
Equally unsuccessful…
How long can they beat a dead horse anyway?
True that elixir of life will last all eternity
But where is the pot to hold it in?

So the cracked pot keeps at it
For a li’l while longer, trying to mend itself,
wishing for some sort of divine intervention
That’d collect all the pieces
And set them straight
they way they ought to be.
And he does it too, at least it seems that way, for a bit
Till the light of day
says otherwise.

So, no more light, no more day,
For the glare of the dying Cyclops – I pray
Rhymes, rhythms and reflections are unwanted
No need for wisdom, women or words
If tonight the falling giant
In its desperate rage
Can provide
A fiery, red, nightmare.

"this gray spirit yearning in desire"

"How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnished, not to shine in use!
As though to breath were life. Life piled on life
Were all to little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought."

"The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
'Tis not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Isles,
And see the great Achilles, whom we knew.
Though much is taken, much abides; and though
We are not now that strength which in the old days
Moved earth and heaven; that which we are, we are,
One equal-temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield."

Quotations from Ulysses in Odyssey III.

Just the words I needed to hear.