AGING

IF you want to know what aging means talk to me. The term “aging” conjures up thoughts like – “beauty creams”, “botox” and, biological, decaying of body cells. Aging does not necessarily always begin when you approach a pensionable age. Psychologically, it can get triggered at any age and have different impact on different people. So, the question is what does “aging” mean? It means, simply, running short of time. It’s the feeling that makes you believe that you are gradually approaching the end of many things; several doors getting shut with not many getting open, causing an imbalance which is towards the negative.

Getting marked with crow’s feet is not the only realization of being infected by aging but also the fact that you believe that your date card makes you ineligible for many things. At 26, you can be called aged for many things, like you cannot think of joining a cricket academy and plan for making a career in cricket or think of a day when you would be bowling faster than shoaib akhtar at an international platform when you have never crossed 100mph while bowling in gully cricket matches in your long 26 yeas of existence. At 26, you are too old to start practicing ping-pong and dream that in some distant Olympics you are going to astonish the Chinese or the Koreans by hitting faster smashes. If you have not yet started then at 26 it’s hard to believe that at this age if you start practicing lawn tennis then one day you are going to win all the four grand slams. Even if you do make it to the international circuit after starting as an amateur at 26, when many players are called veterans, the day you reach the center court of Wimbledon it would be most likely going to be sunset for you. So, all the doors that lead to a great career in sports get closed at 26 if you are yet to make a start.

One of the best money making careers – sports - slips out of your hands at the age of 26 if you are still a beginner. So, aging occurs at all age, it’s just that your mind can avoid it. If you think and feel young then you are young even at 99.

You know what, I am just 26 years old. : - )

MADNESS!!!

If success and love are destinations then paths to both of them are paved by madness.

Success born of passion and strict devotion defines a lifetime of pursuit. People who have been mad about their dreams have fulfilled them in their lifetime.
It requires nothing less than unrelenting insanity to sustain and survive a lifetime of pursuit. Not many embark upon such excursions, those who do have an uncompromising attitude. Dissatisfied with what is existing, they are willing to pay any price or give any sacrifice in order to pursue a dream, seen with open eyes.
To try what has never been tried does not require a rational and sane mind but a one brimming with overwhelming passion to reach where no one has ever stepped. For such maverick pursuits a rational mind is a misfit. A rational mind always argues, evaluates risks, deliberates on loss or gain but a possessed mind thinks nothing but ways of fulfilling what is strongly desired. When you are deeply in love with your quest, risks then are mere apparitions conjured by weak-hearted, loss or gain are both immaterial. What matters is satisfaction - tranquility of the possessed soul.
Madness about our dreams gives us the strength to walk the storms of uncertainty and emerge out in the calmness of achievement. A rational mind will promptly deem such excursions as perilous and squeeze out any possibility of action. Too much of thought and risk analysis makes it too late in the day to take a stand or , for that matter, take a step.

You get possessed by a dream when you confirmly know that you have what is required to realize it. So, do not deliberate because deliberation after deciding on a path to be undertaken is worse than procrastination.
Take your risks, strike when the metal is hot and you will notice that the entire universe is in support with you.

"Itni shidat se tumhe pane ki koshish ki hai....
ki har zarre ne tumse milane ki koshish ki hai!!!"

First day at college!!!

Every expression is too inanimate to describe the episodes of college days. Four long years, at the onset of teenage juxtaposed with the period when one is brimming with energy, are like generations of evolution where every year causes the metamorphosis from one stage to another.

My college days were no different but they came with a price tag. My fervour for computer science took me to a place in the hills of Himachal Pradesh, Hamirpur. My first reaction after knowing that I have been allotted a seat at National Institute of Technology, Hamirpur was to search about the place on the world map. This inane effort dawned on me some important facts about Hamirpur, such as distance from the sea-level and most importantly the nearest broad gauge railway station, Una.

My first day at the college campus, that also happens to be my registration day, was surely against the wishes of any fresher. Sights of broken windows, fans with twisted wings, looted offices greeted me as I went through with my registration. These anecdotes of shame were written all over the campus.

Reaching the college campus was not at all easy that day. After alighting the bus at the Hamirpur bus station, when I approached a cab driver carrying most of the heavy baggage which comprised mainly of books, which my father had discouraged me to carry all the way to hamirpur arguing that there is no point wasting another year for IIT, for hire. He resented to the offer stating concerns about the safety of his vehicle owing to the pandemonium spread at the “REC” (local people of Hamirpur were more comfortable calling the college REC than NIT) campus. Blunt denial from the cab driver forced my and Santosh’s father into a discussion, much like aristocrats pondering over an imbroglio. Quite appropriate for people of their age, who love to brood over the problem and discuss country politics at length all the day long. Santosh was another aspiring student of NITH who, like me, had to get himself registered on the same fate full day.

My father is a man who has quite a knack to convince others. His strong persuasive attribute proves very handy in situation like these or when dealing with a haughty clerk of a government organization. His efforts to inculcate in me the same qualities went futile as I always preferred to do business on a strict terms basis, though such an approach seldom proved to be propitious. Looking at me in disregard for failing to hire a cab, he went ahead and, as expected of him, convinced the cab driver to transport us to the second gate of the college campus.

The journey from the second gate, which was in those days more like a wall broken forcibly to create a passage, to the MMCA office of the Kailash Boys Hostel was even more difficult thanks to the misguidance offered to me by one of the passerby’s. On reaching the destination and figuring out that there was an alternative simpler way, ignominy was eyed at me by my peer’s father. I could sense him scorning at me, though not explicitly, “can’t even find out the way properly, reckless fellow!!!”.

Well, this case brings into light a pervasive attribute of Indians – always extend a helping hand caring little about its impact. More often than not, the gratuitous favour proves more destructive than constructive. I forgave that passerby and moved ahead to the MMCA office to book a guest room and got along with the registration process, which went quite smooth.

DEATH

Death is truth
Death is eternal
Death is inevitable
You ask about "death" to any mundane soul and these words will greet you with prompt. Philosphy or no philosphy but vicissitudes of fate makes a philospher of us all. Life is a ruthless teacher. Incidents that happen in our lives teach us all but life is much above than death and sorrow. Life is all about stoic endurance, to get over the dreary past and sail through the turbulent waters. Life teaches us not to grieve endlessly but to think of ways of supporting those that have been traumatised by the loss caused by death.
"Monotonity is death, mutable is living". Abrassive winds of change erode, corrode and sometimes weaken the mere foundation of faith but to believe that these winds of change are a sculpture that designs beautifully our life, qualifies of being called as "Living". Reasoning often fails to explains what has happened, but to believe that what has happened has happened for good, amounts to be called as living.
Tears are not meant to moan, but to fill up the void that is caused by death. Life is a beginning, death is end. Ends are never explained but beginnings do have a meaning, a purpose to accomplish and a resolve to keep. In the moments of despair, try to be with those who can wash your tears and provide you sollace and remember always -"what lives shall perish one day".

Quest for originality!!!

Now here you see,
It takes all the running you can do, to keep in the place.
If you want to get somewhere else you must run at least twice as fast as that!!!
…………….Lewis Carroll

What is called original? An idea that nobody has ever thought, a muse that results in literary work of unparalleled proportions or an inspiration that results in an artifact that holds forth the attention of the beholder.
What requires being original? Pugnacity does not help, meekness is waste. If perseverance and talent were sufficient enough then even hacks would vie with Shakespeare for supremacy. Trying to bring out the first not only requires skill but also power to bring about changes; to move from stereotype to archetype.
Love and coincidence- it’s with these words that the answers to the above questions are written. We must be in love with what we are doing in order to pursue originality. We stumble from one idea to another until coincidentally we find our own original one.
Srijan is not just a work of literature that is rolled out from here every year; it is a Sisyphean search towards shattering stereotypes and breaking new grounds. Coyness does not belong here, meekness is not invited. It is a journey that begins with double the fervour and viridity than the previous time, which ends at surmounting new heights.
Writing is all about manner and material. A rich literature is one that conforms to all the demands while maintaining the class. The present issue may not promise a lot but has the audacity of being refreshing. In this issue we have tried to be with the tradition while taking full care of the evolving needs. The magisterial Past has been sustained and improved to better the future. We may not be novel in entirety, but we have definitely influenced the change to dispel the cliché.
Insist upon yourself. Be original.