Death

Today, while I was about to park in front of an office building (my site where construction work was taking place), I noticed a weak puppy, about 4 months old, gasping his last breathes at the side of the road. He was in pain I could tell, probably hit by a car, internal bleeding leading to system shut down or just hunger. I watched him helplessly. Looked around if I could do anything, and then I thought who am I kidding, he probably has an hour left in him. So I closed my eyes and imagined his soul, prayed and talked to it. Wished that he left with least pain and his soul evolved. It was a quick heartfelt conversation with the Universe, God or whatever you would like to call it. All this, while my colleague, first watched me with confusion in his eyes and then finally with indifference.

Then we went on to our assigned task, had to take some measurements, talk to the manager, bla bla bla and after about an hour and a half returned back to the car. There his body was lying, mouth open, eyes closed, just lifeless. I had a mixed feeling, relief mixed with pity and immense flow of love. Again his soul was in my thoughts as I sent as much love as possible, before I started the ignition and drove off in to the concrete jungle.

I couldn't help but think, how many such dogs and puppies die each day, with no one around them to even mourn or feel a loss. Its sad that such loving creatures come in this world and die this way. These dogs are not those tyrant landlords, or the corrupt ministers or the lying , fake movie stars. No, they are in fact the innocent, the free spirited, truthful souls that frankly we should be learning from. Its unfortunate that they die this way.

But then later another thought filled my being: the thought was 'death'. That was death, just as unnoticed, as mundane and natural as possible. A life that came, just left. Off it went still on its journey, still on track, most likely evolving and in a happier place. But I gave it all this importance in my head. I grieved, I felt the sadness, thought of other dogs, of life, of people, but really, If I hadn't, he was just lying there dying, people walking by and with no one noticing. I made death something, when it was nothing. Maybe that's how death is to be taken. Fine, we were born with feelings and we have the right to feel this way, but what are we really doing? We are attaching stories to lives so that we can mourn when they leave. We want to identify someone by his achievements, categories them using relationship names (all man-made by the way), so that we can somehow insert them in our life story. So when they go, we feel there loss. Hence the "sorry for your loss" and the "my" condolences.

But then, that doesn't mean we can kill someone since death doesn't mean anything. Death does mean an end of this life, which we are in no way supposed to interfere with. Ours or others, all lives are sacred and are souls on a journey through different species, planets, realms and god knows what.
All I wish is that someday we could talk about death the way we talk about life and birth. I wish it wasn't a taboo. I wish we stopped lying to our kids (thinking we are protecting them) when we say, 'grandma became a star'.
Death is the most natural thing. We must talk about it openly. And hopefully someday we will be evolved enough (hopefully on this very planet and in the far far future) to not mourn and cry on deaths and funerals. Similarly, we could embrace every bitter and sweet truth of our lives. Its a distant possibility, well, until then "I am sorry for your loss".:)

Having said all this, I must mention that when I went on my facebook page later in the day, there was a news feed about how animals were tortured for lab experiments. They showed a cat whose spinal cord was crushed and then she was made to run on the tread mill and they were tracking her neuro thingy. As usual, I cried a bit, couldn't fathom how something so obvious like not hurting another being can be so non-obvious to people. This article was from some 'cruelty to animals exposed' page that I had 'liked'. I quickly went to their page to 'unlike', not because I don't like what they were doing but I didn't have the stomach for such every day trauma.

So, what does this all mean? Here I am advocating about how death is natural and we shouldn't mourn and here I am crying the same day? I guess I'm not evolved enough and have way more to learn and even though sometimes I understand something doesn't necessarily mean I have 'realised' it yet. ......Not yet, ....not yet. (always wanted to end a dialogue with this quote from the 'Gladiator'..:)..)

The Sky

I cant remember numbers

And names …..never

But if I have met you

I can sketch you

The smell of your perfume or odor

I can imagine it...as it crosses my nose

Who am I....

I am not sure of anything until I do it

I am adventurous but not quite

I love to travel

but also wait for the right time

Who am I....

I have lied

but am truthful to myself

I think from my heart

but crosscheck with my brain

what a drain

Who am I.....

I feel connected to everyone

even to those I have not met

but mostly to you

my love to whom I connect

Who am I.....

I love animals more than humans

in them I find innocence

worth every dime and time

its strange but true

in everything I do

Who am I.....

I am the sky....Gagan

Underneath which everything is embraced

with all their flaws and claws

I am truly in love with my name and myself

like a black hole that draws

even light itself

I am me and nothing pretending to be

just me

Expressing your art

Well, its not easy.

What I have seen and observed about many great and famous artists is that they cannot explain what they have made. And if you think about it, if they could talk and write that easily then they would have been writers or speakers, and not artists!

Its that simple.

I decided to write about this today, because I was seeing this pattern with most artists. I attended some contemporary Indian artist's presentations recently. Well, in this writing I am just going to concentrate on Subodh Gupta and Bharti Kher.

What I saw was, excellent work in the form of sculptures, paintings and lots of art forms in the most creative extraordinary mediums. The thought of even expressing mundane and simple thoughts in the most fascinating and tedious dexterity is in itself simply beautiful. Now anyone, who paints abstract, or appreciates abstract art forms can understand or at least try and understand Subodh's work in 'bartans' or for that matter Bharti's sperm-shaped bindis. But when you finally hear them live, it is almost disappointing for most people. I had a talk with few art collectors after Subodh's presentation. Not only did they fail to understand the art form but also also felt that the artist was 'fake' or 'unreal'.

I only blame the process of explanation here and this is exactly what I will be elaborating on.

What I am about to suggest, can be applied to most artists.

I feel the artist, being the maker and the creator, should definitely try and explain what the thought or the 'feeling' was while creating the art pieces. But if he or she can only only explain so much and feels the lack of communication as a barrier, a third person must step in the conversation. By conversation here I mean a dialect between 3 persons. The first person being the 'art' itself, the second the 'creator' and third, the 'vocalist' as i would like to call him or her. The vocalist, should be good and familiar with the art of speaking, writing and most importantly understanding the art and the creator. He or she should transfer the knowledge to the maximum possible. This way the artist can hold his or her dignity of not having to over explain everything about their work and also just keeping it as mysterious as they wish to. And yet the inner wanting of people to understand their work without them speaking can also be taken care of. I know some you may argue that the mystery or freedom of self-interpretation of the art may get lost somewhere. But I don't feel so, as we still have the freedom even after listening to the vocalist.

Here is another way to understand this. Imagine a famous and beautifull actress wins an award for the best actress. Now how easy or even right would it be for her to praise herself, admire her beauty in front of all her fans? She can thank the ones who made it possible for her to be there. She can appreciate the film she worked in. But wouldn't it be too much for her to talk about her particular expression with her beautiful blue eyes in one particular scene? Even if she wants to and wished you could understand. And so mostly you'll notice the presenter doing that for her; presenting and explaining her work as she steps on the stage in the lime light. This would be the vocalist in case of an artist.

The artist on the other hand, is probably a lot more introvert and most probably expressing their thoughts through their art mediums. It is tough and asking for too much indeed for them to praise and explain every thought and feeling that went in to making their art exist.

That's alright if some artists are gifted of having the talent to express in words as well. But for those who cannot and maybe even shouldn't, the vocalist's role to me is absolutely necessary.

Running out...

Today I feel I belong somewhere,
just then, I realize, I do not.

Today I feel I am finally attached to some place,
just when I am not.

Maybe it is necessary to detach to understand the attachment,
just like how sometimes it is necessary to retreat when it is an enhancement.

Maybe life is not meant be simplified,
but to be absorbed as a complicated amalgam,
Just like how some choose to be excited,
But some just choose to see life as boredom.

Funny, how I am running out of words,
But not thoughts,
Funny how you run out of fights,
But not of swords.

The consoler

Today, I reached school to attend my friend’s defense thesis presentation. Went a little too early, thinking she might need some help for setting up the equipment. Coiled up in a chair, with swollen eyes, she tried her best to look normal. I asked her, “are you not feeling well?" Then her fiancé from behind said “her father passed away last night.” Next I see myself hugging her tight and crying. “Stop! what the hell are you doing,” I thought to myself, because she was crying even louder now. I rushed out of the room, took a few seconds and then it just struck me,

“I am the consoler today.”

I went back in, asked if she had eaten anything, got her some stolen cookies from next door and made sure no one attacked her with “their” tears like I did. I was all professional, talking to her professors after that, explaining the situation to her friends and finding out what needed to be done so that she could leave back to India without worrying.

After all that, I left with my friends for lunch and while coming back, my room mate says “lets just sit in the sun here, I can’t go back.” So, we walk to Hayden lawn and just sit on the steps. We look around. We see life as normal as it can be. People walking, running and talking, as if nothing had happened. And then the bravest of us all, bursts into tears. Her silence had ended. The rest of us, followed.

I was not the consoler anymore, I could cry now.

What had struck all of us was just the realization that we are all going to loose “them” one day. We are far away from homeland and might not get to see them again. It was silent, it hit hard, but it was necessary.

Reason

Why am I not materialistic? Why am I dark skinned? Why am I a believer? There must be a reason. I am discovering exactly that.

So much within a frame

While I was clicking this picture, my friends were like "there she goes again". I am so glad that I don't get bothered by what people say, and just continue with my passion. I love photography, but don't really have the skills. But someone once said to me, "you can picture the scene within a frame". And that is probably what I’m good at. This picture here is so beautiful. This girl is enjoying the moment with the pigeons, the family on the side afraid (yet the man, somewhat awed), the Indian oldie couple at the back, people passing by, the sun, the flowers and of course our stars: the pigeons. Someone actually asked me, "How long did it take to set this scene up?" Ha ha, I laughed inside. I wondered if that person would have even noticed what I so passionately captured. I answered, “I did not set it up. It was just that exact moment in time and space, and I captured it within a frame.”

(Click on picture to see details)