Inscribed on the skin- narrates the stories of our heroism
And of failures and debt,
Your body- it tells a tale
I wish so could mine
Alas! It speaks silence-
Peeping through the plight of a blank verse.
The scars- they are intriguing
I wish so might be your charm
The ones we inherit
And the ones we create
The ones we dare to embark
We recreate and recreate untill the changed us could reconnect
Indeed, we are the pilgrims of our own scars.
Sometime back I was wondering what my playlist has to say about me. This dilemma finally made its way out of my head when I came across the song ‘Walkashame’ by Meghan Trainor whilst I was biting my nails over an embarrassing incident. It’s a song I used to listen in my late teens after being an imprudent child who now needed to make sure that no matter what her daddy is going to look at her the same way. As I lip synced the lyrics the guilt seemed to descend to a path trodden by none- not even by the darkest memories with a snooze button. This sudden realization accompanied by huge amount of relief urged me to go through my old playlists. Barely a music person but I was shocked to see the variety of artists in the list. As the song ‘Up and up’ by Coldplay started playing my face had a calm smile and singing along with Chris Martin’s voice and visualizing the creative video instilled some hope in me. Exactly the same reaction every single time! The song ‘Anna Sun’ by Walk the moon tempts me to be at that house falling apart and never return. Oh! the teenage love I had for Katy Perry now seems to be a weird phase but worshiping her back then brought a friend and me together. Every time I listen to her songs I end up in nostalgia. The entire album ‘Some Nights’ by Fun had its artistic as well as realistic quirks that made it a mandatory on my playlist back then. ‘Seasons’ by Olly Murs was added when I was caught fidgeting and I needed another chance. I started listening to James Blunt when life was mundane and I longed for the years behind me(can’t make it sound more juvenile). The song ‘Gypsy’ was heard on repeat on a trip when I was learning that everybody is a wanderer on the inside. The song ‘Rude’ by Magic was an influence from people listening to it in college. ‘Comatose’ belongs to the time when I had long talks with an EDM lover friend. His persona suits EDM well but me choosing those songs is probably an old habit of showing care by sharing music. The songs by Lorde are extremely relatable and empowering. Her song ‘Royals’ felt like she just said everything I was thinking about. George Ezra’s young face and mature voice is probably the most melodious irony I am aware of. ‘The Script’ is probably a band that is never going off my playlist. I remember listening to them and wondering how can every line leave such an impact. The recently added album ‘Cleopatra’ by Lumineers is the most beautiful ballad to me so far; may be because I admire the story as well as the protagonist behind those songs. ‘Happier’ by Ed Sheeran acknowledges a silly yet secret desire. The list is endless. I might cringe when I listen to this music yet I fail to delete these songs. May be it is hard to give up on some songs because now they are a part of me or simply a reminder of an event in past. The list will keep on adding new songs but the old ones are now imprinted on me.
Courage. Only a few are able to muster enough of it to put forward their thoughts and desires. RARE- the exact number of people who are brave enough to live their life the way they perceive it. While walking in the streets you’ll come across many aesthetes but none who choose art as a form of reality. Lili Elbe was one such exception. She chose to kill the man he/she was- Einar to be the woman she wanted to be. Probably considered schizophrenic in those days Lili had the fortitude to explore and then stick to her sexual orientation. Oh no! Lili wasn’t gay. She was a ‘she’. Nature made a mistake. Science messed up the chromosomes. Talking of science, it comes with abundant exceptions. We the humans are intersections of science and art, therefore we are supposed to be a little more empathetic and understanding. Sympathy is not needed, empathy is all people wish for.
Einar was a renowned artist who was appreciated worldwide. He had ambitions and success. Lili on the other side had ambitions and a heart along with Einar’s wife Gerda, who loved Einar so much that she let him go and who was liberal enough to support Lili to be the woman of her own dreams. A suspected homosexual, Gerda did not have a career as glorious as that of Einar until she showcased her painting flaunting a woman with the haunting almond shaped eyes as her subject. The woman was Einar dressed in an unusual and unacceptable manner. Strangely, he fell in love with the stockings, the camisole, the corset, the heels and every other bit of it. He further explored what a woman thinks, how she walks, the way she chatters and the way she spreads an aura of elegance. From that point onwards Einar decided to be Lili. The repercussions, both social and medical were hostile. But, Lili had made a choice. Her choice was not ordinary. It had infinite constraints. She was a wreck and her choice was chaotic. Yet! I admire her because we are the choices we make and let it be that way. It’s alright if we want to be whoever or whatever. All we need to do is take a stand of our own and also of people with dwindling trust in their own selves. Just push your boundaries. May be your story won’t be as interesting as Lili’s, but your life is your artwork. Paint it with the colors you choose!
Every time I pick up the pen to give words to abstracts or the most materialistic ideas the ink flows in a familiar direction. But the urge to write about the people I love has left the paper with blotches and specs of blue. No words. Just abstracts. Abstracts I can’t pretend to materialize. Materialistic talks- strangely- with great depths. The friends, the family and the hardest choices.The moments I fain to express! Alas! A failed attempt of expressing and realizing but a still better option of living the moment. I don’t understand the joyful glitches of depending on people. All I know is that somehow these things are meant to be no matter you possess the hardest shell.
Our lazy-selves and hectic classes (at least according to us students) does not allow us to be morning people. Just one of those crappy routine things our parents think we are too proud of (we aren’t- just a lifestyle- not good or bad- just there).Certainly the rule of king, prince and pauper does not apply to us hostlers. But we have our very own set of rules including pretending to not share food but share it anyway; fight for the last bite; no plate belongs to a sole person; talk your heart out but don’t lose focus while eating- you probably know otherwise; and the list can go on.For us meals are not just a routine. They are a kind of synonym for rejoice. Keeping up with our daily revelry one afternoon seven or eight of us were waiting for food at the dhaba we generally visit. It was fun as usual. All the chirping, mockery, leg pulling, linking people together, terrible session of match making and off course eating! We kept sitting there even an hour later. We just weren’t ready to get up. No realization of the clock ticking by. At that moment we were unaware of all the stress we had before stepping there and the one we’ll have to redeem with while we step out. Suddenly all my friends’ smiling faces grabbed my attention. How typical? I know! Even after knowing their every fucking flaw hearing it from someone else makes me heed towards my turtle shell. Those few seconds of staring at them laugh deciphered a secret message that all we need is people we can laugh with. It might not be everything but it is exactly the kind of typical I want to stay forever.
P.S.: I know this is too cheesy. But what’s too much is me looking at the videos of my friends from the trek I missed!