Universal Dilemmas

The stars burned like the memories of brighter days, light years away from when I now drive past in my car. Do they represent a map of beautiful moments from my past or a future without? A dilemma perpetually stands before us in the guise of two roads not taken - a divaricate, bi-forked future, an only-seemingly simply choice that keeps us up days and nights. Do we let go of our pasts or hold on to it and make peace with the future? Or do we hold on to both with what is left of a thin string, frayed at both ends?

None of us have the capacity to wait in the anticipation. The stars have seen what is yet to happen and we cannot. These trials and tribulations in life make us and break us. We have no choice but to talk to the moon on our many solitary nights together, as we take the walk and pause before the roads in front of us and take none.

We live lives riddled with dilemmas, problems, and sorrow. And whom do we blame for these dilemmas that span space and time?
The Universe, right?
We blame the indefinable Universe. Could we ever possibly define the same? What really is the Universe, and what is Life?

What is the Universe but a swirling eddy of moments and people lost forever in the blink of an eye?
Gone.

What is the Universe but a vast sandbox surviving because of the entropy of dancing sand particles?
We’re dust to dust, them and us; chaotic, but in peace.

What is Life but an archaic spider-web perfectly spun in the riddled lace and taffeta of punch drunk love?

Oh, Life. It hangs on by a thin, thin thread, trying to stitch up the cuts that time made on its arms.

What is the Sunshine but a handprint on our hearts?
What is the Rain but these very crocheted hearts coming apart?

The thread lies not in the hands of the puppeteer, or maybe so. Break free. The loose ends of the life you spun are to be rewritten by you. We thread life up and reel it in.

What is a Story but a beautiful lie; a horrific truth; a beginning, middle and an end to the secret garden, stolen books, and arcane memories?
Volatile, yet liberating, eccentric, but a thrill like no other.

What is Nature but poetry in motion?

The lightning, in its very psychedelic nature, sets fire to the menacing thunderstorm and blossoms into the bloom of spring,

What is Luck but an unanswered wish for fortuitousness originating from the depths of our unfathomable minds?
Poor Luck - always blamed for us getting lost in this dazzling maze of life, building living graves for our hollowed out corpses.

What is the Universe but a treasure hunt for a treasure that’s already yours?
Peter Pan searched not-too-far; the ticking crocodile still awaits Captain Hook.

What is the Universe but sheer indefinable beauty in all its mosaic jigsaw puzzle glory?
It may be incomplete and broken, but it is beautiful and unimaginably perfect.

What is the Universe but You?

Far Far Away

After ages, I am reconnecting with my love for Neil Gaiman. Paraphrasing G.K. Chesterton, he wrote, “Fairy tales are more than true – not because they tell us dragons exist, but because they tell us dragons can be beaten.”

I love fairy-tales. Some people say for a twenty-seven year old, my love for fairy-tales actually borders on obsession. Somewhere I feel they’ve cast a spell on me that does not have or need a cure. To many, this may seem immature, weird or even childish and I have had my fair share of “Aren’t you too old for…?” questions, but I don’t mind. Really. For there is no feeling that I would ever choose over the magic and hope you feel running through your veins when the shoe fits Cinderella or when Sleeping Beauty awakens or when Wendy flies for the first time.

J.M. Barrie said it best when he said, “All the world is made of faith, and trust and pixie dust.” This just happens to be all we need too. But we let reality get in the way, and I wish we didn’t let that happen. I do not see why Neverland has to be left in the fairy-dust. And I most definitely do not understand why we cannot keep the hope we once had as children alive and afire. Like it has been said, growing old is mandatory, growing up is optional. What happened? Why did people have to go from loving fairy-tales as children to mocking them as teenagers? Don’t tell me, “Life happened. We’ve changed and we’re now moving past our former selves – we don’t know us anymore.” Yes, life is frustrating, chaotic and sometimes unbearable, and we cannot really do much about it. Dark clouds block the sunshine often for me as well – but what I do to pull myself out of this is wish ‘Once Upon a Dream’ like Aurora or ‘Let it Go’ like Elsa. The point is fairy-tales do not deny the existence of heartache, despair or sorrow, but they do deny defeat, failure and unhappy endings.

The lessons we learn from fairy-tales are no different from the lessons learnt for life. Yes, you do not need to believe in poisoned apples or pumpkin carriages but believe in the themes that these stories are rooted in. Fairy-tales, in all entireties, are not an escapade from realistic situations – our world is not unlike theirs, in which both good and evil exist. The difference could perhaps be that we don’t have magic or a Fairy Godmother to save us from the clutches of evil. But, perhaps, we’re so accustomed to being Muggles that we do not realize that magic exists. A good heart, a spoonful of courage to use kindness and goodness wisely and humour – that’s all the magic one really needs.

Once upon a time – for that is how all stories should begin – your story began, truer than true. And they all lived happily ever after – for that is how all stories should end – and yours will too. Life is a story with good parts and bad. How would you know happiness without knowing the sad?
If you do not like the story you are in, leave and find your own happily ever after. The best thing about fairy-tales is probably how applicable they still are in our lives – of course not literally, but metaphorically or symbolically – and how we are so oblivious to it all…
It may have been centuries since Little Red Riding Hood took on the Big Bad Wolf or Dorothy defeated the Wicked Witch of the West, but “Fear” has not changed. We were frightened as children, we’re possibly more frightened now. What frightens us today might not be what frightened us back then, but it is just a different wolf, a different witch. And we still need to battle them.

“Fairy tales since the beginning of recorded time and perhaps earlier, are the best means to conquer the terrors of mankind through metaphor.”
- Jack Zipes

I feel this is what seems to be the most sensible approach to feeling better about the world that we live in – if we could only believe in making our own magic.

"Stories you read when you're the right age never quite leave you. You may forget who wrote them or what the story was called. Sometimes you'll forget what precisely happened but if a story touches you, it will stay with you, haunting the places in your mind you rarely visit."
- Neil Gaiman

One of my favourite metaphors is the following:
Just like the Baby Bear’s porridge in Goldilocks and the Three Bears, the universe is “just right”. Happy endings need not exist just in fairy-tales. I love fairy-tales and while I may not believe in magic mirrors, or Fairy Godmothers granting me the most exquisite glass slippers (shoes are quite expensive in real life!) but I do believe in the idea of hope and love, which runs from the end of one story to the beginning of another – the idea that happiness does exist. Love believes when you don’t. That is all the motivation and validation I usually need to get on with my life. The ‘bare’ necessities if you know what I mean!

To wrap this all up with a flick of a wand, I wish you all find the same joy and inspiration that I do from fairy-tales.  Fairy-tales have the beauty of always giving one a simpler, newer perspective of things, a transformation of ideology from “I wish” to “I will” and a belief in trust, kindness, goodness, hope and love.

I wish you all Hakuna Matata and lots and lots of love! There is life beyond the stone tower in which you’ve enclosed yourself. Set yourself free, and go seek your kingdom of Far-Far-Away!

Chrysalis

Don’t we all love butterflies? Well, maybe not all – I know my brother was scared of butterflies as a kid (yes, laugh all you want!) – but I’ve always been inspired by them to a huge extent. The first tattoo I got was of a butterfly…

I really feel that Nature is the best teacher. I mean – look at the butterflies! Magnificently hued and the objects of everyone’s envy! But then again, I wonder: what do we envy? We envy their beauty, we envy the fact that they blossomed from relatively ugly, green caterpillars to luminescent self-propelled flowers, if I may put it that way, and we envy everything we cannot be and cannot do. Human nature…

Just some time ago, while reading random facts online, I found out that butterflies have short life-spans. Yes, the longest may be a year, but their average life-span is a mere five days to two weeks. When I read this, I remember thinking to myself that this was yet another example of the law of impermanence in life. Nothing lasts forever. Now, that is both good news and bad news. What really was the point of being so beautiful if your life was merely fourteen days long, at the very best? Ironically, two weeks later, I got the answer to my question. Mother Nature’s mysterious ways cannot be undone; these fractals of our amazing world are here to inspire all of us, if only we paid a little more attention.

The butterfly counts not the days or weeks it has, but the moments it has, and that is time enough…

Today a caterpillar, tomorrow a butterfly. We should never lose hope of what tomorrow might bring. Despite all the heartache, sorrow, pain and insecurities, we are all butterflies waiting to happen. Just when the caterpillar thought life was over, cocooned in darkness and misery, it transformed into a butterfly.

The caterpillar thought, “It is the end of the world.”
The butterfly realized, “It is the beginning of the world.”

The struggles, the battles you fight today, prepare you for tomorrow. They help you develop the strength and make you realize that you need to fly. You might feel that you are about to fall, but butterflies can’t see their wings, can they? They can’t see how beautiful they are, but people around them can. People are like that. We really are butterflies waiting to happen. People are like butterflies and the world is our chrysalis.

A month ago, I found a dead butterfly. It’s not the most common sight. Incandescent green wings, unimaginably beautiful…Dead…It really is not every day that you find a dead butterfly. Until I held it in my hands, its frayed wings, I could have lived in the bubble that butterflies are fairies that come out of nowhere, entertain us with their beauty and disappear into nothingness soon thereafter. But no life is unfair…and fair: an integration of happiness and sadness; change. Change is the only constant. And probably, that is the biggest lesson we can learn from a butterfly.

If nothing ever changed, there would be no butterflies. If nothing ever changed, clear, blue skies would not follow storms. If nothing ever changed, life would have no meaning.

Just like the butterflies, we will awaken in our own time. We really are just butterflies waiting to happen…

The Verdict of Love

Love appears to be a silly form of a lost-and-found game. People say that when you love, you either completely lose yourself, or you become the truest version of yourself. Does that make love the best or the worst thing we do? Somehow, unbelievably and inexplicably, could it be both?

Could love be the best of the worst?

Who fixes broken people, if not for other broken people who’ve already been ruined? Sometimes, the messiness in our pasts that drives us, connects us with the same hurt at a sub-dermal level; making us recognize in others the kind of scars we cannot see in our cells anymore despite the writings being scribbled so deep. Isn’t that love? Love may take the shadows of our soul hostage, but in that lies our freedom.

Harry Potter showed us the power of love – young Harry survived the Avada Kedavra curse because of the love his mother, Lily, shielded him with upon her death. Even as a ten-year old when I read the book for the first time, I simply accepted Dumbledore’s explanation for Voldemort not being able to touch Harry – because he was protected by love – and never questioned it. It does not take a detailed equation to believe that love and magic are linked.

Being in love is a magical feeling – every person on this planet who’s had even a stupid crush can vouch for that! It is one small, four-letter word, yet it transcends space and time, saves humanity and becomes a survival instinct. Isn’t Cooper and Murphy’s love (enter Interstellar movie-reference) one of the purest kind? Maybe, in that, love is perhaps the best thing we do. And somehow, it does seem sensible to believe that love could be the fifth dimension in which we flourish, in which we survive. Love is the key to simply existing in a manner that neither the passage of time, nor gravity, nor data can achieve. Love shows us the path of transition from one blank space to another.

Maybe, love is just like all the other forces that make up the universe – unstable, just like all the radioactive elements we know, yet a stronger, driving force than gravity could ever be. Love can be the best and the worst. Love can turn us into either the best or the worst versions of ourselves. And love is the best AND the worst thing that we do, but we need to do it anyway.  

"But love doesn't make sense. You can't logic your way into or out of it. Love is totally nonsensical. But we have to keep doing it, or else we're lost and love is dead and humanity should just pack it in. Because love is the best thing we do."
- Ted Mosby (How I Met Your Mother)

You taught me well, Ted Mosby!

Hogwarts in Kolkata!

This blogpost is an entry to the Blogging contest, a part of the book launch of Harry Potter and the Cursed Child, in association with Kolkata Bloggers.

Mishti dozed off half-way through reading Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone, an early present that she’d received just before her eleventh birthday. “This is so magical!” she sighed as her eyes drew to a close. “I wish I studied at Hogwarts.”

The next morning, she had to go for her dreaded Math tuition-classes. It was early and the usually crowded area of Chowringhee was yet to start bustling with activity. Realizing that she had a good twenty minutes to kill and with no desire to go early for class, Mishti entered a dilapidated antique-store whose door was open. No one was around. Mishti marvelled at some wonderfully-carved wooden tables. Suddenly she saw an ancient, ornate mirror lying in a corner. It had clawed feet, and a golden frame that was inscribed with the phrase,"Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi."

“What do you see in the mirror?” boomed a voice behind her.
Mishti jumped and saw a tall, thin, old man standing. He wore a purple Panjabi with dhuti.

When Mishti looked in the mirror, it was not her reflection she saw. “I see…” she hesitated.
“Go on,” encouraged the man.
“I see that I’ve received a letter stating that I’ve been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

The man’s face broke into a smile. “This mirror shows not the reality but your heart’s deepest desire. However, I have the power to make your wish come true!”
“How?” asked Mishti in wonder.
“My name is Abhi Dasgupta,” said the old man. “I studied at Hogwarts and was Headmaster there. These days, we seem to have a lot of promising witches and wizards from Kolkata, so we’re setting up a school of magic here. You are going to be one of its first pupils!” he informed her.

Mishti could not believe her ears. “You mean Harry Potter exists?” she exclaimed.
“Yes, my child,” Mr. Dasgupta chuckled. “He will be your Defence against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Mr. Dasgupta handed her a letter, and before Mishti could say another word, he was gone in the blink of an eye. Mishti forgot all about Math class and ran home to her parents. Her parents were Potter-fans too and could not believe what Mishti said to them. They read the letter and rushed to purchase the items Mishti’d need for school: books from Oxford Book-Store in Park Street; some fresh parchments from a shop in College Street, robes from Rahman’s Store in New Market; and who’d have known that the handicraft emporium at Dakshinapan even stocked wands and broom-sticks!

“I hope all this is real!” voiced Mishti. “I hope it’s not happening inside my head.”

“My dear child,” said her mother. “Even if it’s happening inside your head, why should it mean that it’s not real?”

Mishti went to bed that night feeling extremely excited. The next morning she woke up and saw the letter lying on her bed-side table. “It wasn’t a dream! I'm the Chosen One!” she jumped with joy.

Finally, the day came when Mishti, escorted by her parents, arrived at Sealdah Station and headed for the wall between Platforms 9 and 10. She was ready to board the train from Sealdah Platform 9¾ which would take her to the Hogwarts School in Kolkata. It was just the beginning of her journey, but she was sure it was going to be the most memorable experience of her life. 

A Christmas Miracle

She stared at the world outside her window squinting her eyes to help her see through the fog. The streets were empty and the trees were barren. No one was in sight. Everyone seemed to have retired indoors to escape the icy chill of winter. Usually, she despised the cold.  Some winters, all she longed to do was slip into hibernation, snuggled under the comforts of her warm blanket. She always battled the cold by wrapping herself in multiple layers of clothing and sipping incessant cups of hot chocolate.

This time, it was different. She found herself opening the windows and inviting the cold inside the chambers of her home. Somehow, the dreary weather outside seemed to be aptly reflecting her gloomy mood. She had been living all by herself for many years. Yet this was the first time she felt completely alone. She stared at the decorated Christmas tree decked up in blue lights – it was a pretty sight but she wished she had someone else beside her to admire the view. There was a feeling of emptiness seated deep within her heart and she wished she knew how to fill up that void.

The sun had set and outside her window was that unimaginable and deserted vastness of night coming in. She put on her coat and stepped out of the house to take a walk, hoping she would be able to get rid of the loneliness monster that seemed to be hot on her trail.. She walked alone without the company of another person or any of the modern gadgets like her iPod or phone. She was armed with absolutely nothing to distract her from her thoughts.

As she trudged along, she became increasingly aware of her hatred for the cold. She hated the feel of the cold wind gushing up her skin. Her nose was vulnerably frozen and she could feel the hair standing up at the back of her neck. As she looked around, she realized, once again, that she was the only one present. No one else was in sight. Suddenly, hot tears started rolling down her cheeks. She could not believe herself. What was she crying for? A lost love or a love never lost? Or a love that never happened? She had no idea but she did not stop the tears from coming down. She was tired of fighting and she just let them flow. Suddenly, she felt engulfed by a huge sense of relief. Perhaps she wasn't as frigid as the world perceived her to be. Maybe, there was still hope for her. She found herself bursting with laughter at that thought and she let out a hearty chuckle.

It was still misty everywhere. Her vision was still blurred, on account of her tears and the fog, but somehow she had a clearer picture than before of the way things were. Winter was not as heartless as people described it to be – on a cold, wintry evening, she had finally found a part of herself that she thought was long lost. It was the best gift that she could have asked for! In the darkness, despite chances being bleak, she had managed to stumble upon her light. It was a Christmas miracle and it had come true!  

Expecto Patronum!

There are times when the world we inhabit seems to be quite a scary place. We are, sometimes, presented with a continuous streak of horrible days that just seem to get from bad to worse. There are some days where we can’t find even one reason to smile. It becomes worse when we turn to some people with the hope of getting cheered up and, instead, end up getting our spirits dashed down and completely crumpled. As a fan of the Harry Potter series, I use the term “dementor” to explain the existence of such people.

For people not familiar with the series, according to Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, “Dementors are among the foulest creatures that walk the earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them…Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy feeling will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself…soulless and evil. You will be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life.”  

Have you encountered such people in your life? There are some people who shove us towards the shores of our own fears and limiting beliefs far away from the uncharted territories of our true, inner self. We strive enormously to live up to their expectations but no matter how hard we try, we never seem to be good enough. It is in those moments of anguish that we start questioning ourselves. Such people create an atmosphere in which nothing good can thrive and you seriously start believing that life is over.  The horrifying part is that such people are not rare in number – there are so many of them that it is difficult to completely wipe them out.

There are times when I believe that I am the most bizarre and the most flawed person alive. It usually happens when I turn to these dementors in order to get a reality-check. Instead of showing me the mirror, these dementors validate my negative beliefs by accentuating my faults. At the end of every meeting with such creatures, I am left feeling completely empty, depleted off all my energies. I cannot seem to reason with them because they only hear things they want to hear.

What do you do with these dementors who just feed off your happiness? Luckily, the world is not inhabited by such creatures alone. In the course of our life-time, we come across some people who always bring out the best in us. They put their arms around us and love us even when we aren't really very lovable. They accept us totally and love us unconditionally to such an extent that we feel all our shortcomings have been washed away into obliviousness, thanks to their care, support and concern. These people stand by our side, conjuring up the very effective Patronus charm to protect us from the vile dementors.

I apologize once again for the reference to the Harry Potter series - the Patronus charm conjures a magical guardian that is a projection of all of one’s most positive feelings. Usually, the guardian that is produced by this charm takes the shape of an animal with which it shares the deepest affinity. According to the books, it is extremely difficult to master this spell and when I reflect on this, I can understand why. It is very difficult to show a ray of light to someone who is immersed in a world of darkness. The light at the other end of the tunnel starts petrifying them – they were once a part of it until everything was shattered. They know what it feels like to lose everything that caused them bliss and are now at peace with their pain. They fear travelling down that road again.

It is extremely difficult to love a self-loathing person. It is even more difficult to accept people who have rejected themselves. I am fortunate to have a few people in my life who have never given up on me even when I showed no signs of getting better. I am sure all of us have such wonderful people in our space – we just forget to count our blessings and we often fail to give these people the credit they deserve.

You may have only a handful of them in your life but you know they will not hesitate in pulling out their magical wands to conjure up the Patronus charm to protect you when you are in need. With such people in your life, the dementors can never dream of occupying even a tiny corner.

Life is beautiful and it has its fair share of ups and downs. You will always encounter people who will try to bring you down but you will also have those keeping a lookout for you ensuring that no matter how rough things get, you don’t break. We are all human beings and, unlike machines, it isn't that easy to fix us when we are broken. But with a little help from such stunning people, we all get by. Today, make it a point to thank those people for trusting you when you had no one by your side and let them know that you would do the same for them. Let’s make our lives and the lives of our near and dear ones dementor-free!

P.S. If I had an actual Patronus, it would be a silver unicorn with purple hair neatly set in place with pink tic-tac clips. What would your Patronus look like?