Sea

I’d like to be under sea
That’s where I’m gonna be

High wall of enticing waves
robs me off my early days, when
I had a picture
holding it straight and blasé.

House warming had that gone
and replaced with
a bird
beneath which the mighty sea
roared alone.

So, next time I go there
I find a chute and further
than this bird
I fly
above destiny
beyond herd.

Amid air
suddenly I wonder
if the purpose of life
is just to end?
ya? then who cares,
if it’s a sea
or a knife.

I’ve got a huge belly
under the swamp cool posture of
my body
made of salt and water
destined to be reclaimed
by this sea.

Mum says don’t go ‘nywhere near it
Mum says it will drown me

This will be thy sheath
that thou despise
no flowers
no grave
You’ll lie about water wreath.

O ya, I’m going to be under sea
That’s where I wanna be.

Who am I?

ALOHA! I am Animesh. I was born on March 16, 1982, to a middle class banker’s family, in a small town Sindri, near Dhanbad, in Jharkhand, India. Like, any other middle class family, my family, too, was debris of dreams; dreams that were conceived but couldn’t be realized; and as in legacy, I was offered to carry them further. And I did, as they lay my path there-on, as they shaped my destiny there-after.

Dreams beget dreams! Slowly…slowly, the treasury manifolds like an assortment of positive and negative battles, sometimes like slow realm over dust, sometimes like sudden rout after long-fought success. Dreams kindle hope and hope kindles life. Life is an itinerary with hope as its mile-stones, at some you lose, at some you win …and you keep going on and on, conceiving one after another, betting one after another until among those obvious, you find a dream – of much more importance, of much more significance than rest in the flock – suitable enough to bet your whole life upon and then, you decide your destiny.

A layer of dream upon the rubble of dreams! Looks bookish! But this is exactly what my life is all about.

A man has one destiny. And so is mine!

Destiny is a protocol, a destination that emerges when you shape your dreams against the evens and odds of the universe; an adamant idea that you cease to abandon; the ultimate reward you put yourself at stake for. Destiny is one’s own religion, one’s own faith, one’s own cause to surrender. It is the definition of man. he is unique if he makes his destiny unique.

None other than an engineer can really understand the multinomial equation of the destiny, the ever increasing entropy of the dream. I do, not merely because I am an engineer or I believe that I am something extraordinary sort of, but because I chose to pursue such, to understand such.

The world has two types of people, first: a conscious activist, who chooses his steps and thus takes the onus of the consequences, second: an unconscious actor, who lets others decide what should he dream of? Which one is better? … I can not hear a single voice. Quot homines, tot sententiae! No two men can think alike. It is exactly this fundamental instinct of humans – to pretend to differ, to deny others – that has caused a society like ours’ to evolve and to weave us with its multiple forking adherences. Some people choose to govern while some are chosen to be governed. Governance is not of people but of ideas that few have chosen to bestow their faith upon, thus, have colonized the fundamental lineament of humanity.

Who am I then? The former or the later… I don’t know. I really don’t know.

Perhaps, I am an object of the super-class; who has inherited all the public qualities, by default, that he bears at the core of his existence; who has grown inured to the gloom of captivation …gradually after begetting, executing, and terminating… and then again resurrecting; who is nothing but a sound replica of the template code – generated by the routine process of cut-copy-paste.

Or may be, a “human” – a byproduct of a retrogressive alchemy; a settled and quite grain of the finality; a manicured boulder abandoned by nature; an ethnic perennial ruined off by the age-old ethnicity; a kind of a biological fauna, heavy of his past, light of his future.

Or rather, I am a parasite, feeding myself upon the generous humanity and the complacent society; stealing my share of sustenance against their simplicity, against their complexity.

I don’t know!

I may be many. I may be one. Like a cone that remains faithful in one frame but suddenly changes its shape in another – not in a deliberate attempt to equivocalise the truth, but in a normal tendency to cease candidness, to keep from simplicity – I too may be deceitful. I don’t want to become a victim of “TRUTH”; neither would I like to fall prey to the manly strictures. So, I leave it to be answered by my destiny.

It will take time, I know, but I am certain that eventually it will answer. Until then, I will wait. Will you? 🙂

My Flawed Destiny

Destiny, as always, once again crossed my itinerary. It might be a cursory crossover. It might be a deliberate manoeuvre. Who knows? But its charm, its charisma, its ostentatious-ness was same. Nothing was decayed. Nothing was improved. Not even a part. It looked at me in the face, smiling and enticing like a chintzy gloss, successful to beguile me, like always!

Last time, even, when the series of pylons carrying wires of destiny biked over me, the confrontation wasn’t very different. Approximately five years earlier, perhaps more! Yet, its lineaments didn’t reflect much change. No fall. No rise. Only stability prevailed. Its perseverance, nay, complacency was amazing, eerie up to the limit to haunt me. The dilemma – it creates, the chasm – it penetrates, always urged me to surrender. Contrastingly enough, at the same time, somehow, it always ushered me to fight. People say that improvement in perfection is rare. Had my destiny perched its perfection? I doubted. May be it had stagnated. Huh! Whatever be the case! When history had already repeated itself, I was left with little to digress. I had to choose.

But, was it really unchanged? Or, it was just a subterfuge showed up to me? Earlier, it had despair, and now, beguilement. It was changed. One facet of ifs façade differed from the earlier one. Its pranks were now friendlier and luring with a defined facial boundary. I could identify it. I could distinguish its face from the rush. Yes, it did change!
Years ago, it was like news shouting my failure accompanied by chaos. I stayed, collapsed to my feet, unable to decipher the message, confused to choose the stone whose turning could have brought me luck. I found none. I waited. Slowly…slowly, the aura de-condensed as I brushed my eye-balls. Light managed to diffuse through the fog. Something, then, abetted me to fight against the decree. I hardly remember what was that?

Destination remained, path lost!

I fought and conquered the destination but little was left in debris, behind, to trace out the impasse there. Neither had I atoned, not repented, but accepted as it came to me as I found myself into a prestigious engineering college.
Happy and almost complacent! Destiny was defeated and my goal achieved. I looked around, scrounge up and down but no more combat remained. I enjoyed the calm. Soon, doldrums overgrew and I felt hapless. I needed a reason, a reason to stroll ahead with, a reason to stand for, a reason to muse over, and a reason to die for.

It was then, filled with smug defiance, furrowed by past battle – not in anxiety but in urgency, I ventured out to beguile my destiny once more as if to surprise it before it could en-cash the chance. It was then; I declared my moral, my responsibility superior to my career. I was no longer complacent or a vestige of hubris or a canopy of poise. I was all anew then.

I saw communication, for the first time, not electronical but literary and I realized its potential not as a career but as a mean to fulfill my social responsibilities. I felt charged; more charged that ever because of the cause I was standing by. For every big responsibility deserves bigger attention and higher devotion, I stood capricious to my destiny and tenacious to my dreams.

Destiny understood the stubbornness of my stance and tricked its game accordingly. It acquired oneness rather than its long cherished vagueness and my destiny came to me in person than a newspaper.

Fight, between us, commenced. Bells tolled once again. But the fight wasn’t similar. It wasn’t archaic, it wasn’t antiquated.

I wasn’t fighting blood but glitter. I wasn’t denying fist but money. I was offered security – fiscal security. I denied. Grip tightened. I resisted. Piles of money racked in front of me so as to touch the heaven. I hesitated. It blocked my vision, for some time, and blinded me. My ethics hid away behind the dollars.

Fortunately, lessons from the last confrontation lasted. And I was beckoned to the present. Foe-ness returned back as ally-ness perished. I stood up again. More firm and more dedicated this time as the game went on.

The game is not over yet. The show is on. The combat is on. Results are too close to call. Greater cause suffers greater persecution and bears richer reward. My dreams have worth more than that of my destiny. I will fight to harness the richness of it, Come what may!