Multiple entendres

They escaped with their lives

managed to get married

They can, at last, change their clothes.

- Yosa Buson

Of poetry, love and keeping the fantasy alive

There are two songs with some similar lines. Both songs are beautiful and can be easily related to by anyone who has loved or lost, or both.

The songs I speak of are Mujhse Pehli Si Mohabbat Mere Mehboob Na Maang by Faiz Ahmed Faiz and Kabhi Kabhi Mere Dil Mein Khayal Aata Hai by Sahir Ludhianvi.

The first song has the line

“Tu jo mil jaaye toh taqdeer nigun ho jaaye
Yun na tha maine faqat chaha tha yun ho jaaye”

(Were I to have you, my destiny would not matter.
This was not the way it was, but only how I desired it to be)

The second, by Sahir Ludhianvi, ends with

Kabhi kabhi mere dil mein khayal aata hai
Ki jaise tu mujhe chahegi umr bhar yun hi
Uthegi meri taraf pyaar ki nazar yun hi
Main jaanta hoon ki tu ghair hai magar yun hi

(Once in a while, a fleeting thought settles upon my mind
That you will want me forever
And your eyes will always find me through the lenses of love
I know you are not mine, but nonetheless
Once in a while…)

I think both songs are brilliant and I am a fan both of both the poets, and relate to both songs equally. But as far as these two parts of these songs are concerned, I favour the second more than the first.

Let me tell you why.

One starts with a fantasy and then crashes it against the wall of reality. The other recognizes the constraints of reality but is belligerent enough to reiterate the fantasy that exists nonetheless, and almost enjoys it.

Playing, in children and in adults through imagination and fantasy, is an integral part of the experience of an unburdened sense of existing. A child who cannot play, adults who cannot dream or be spontaneous have lost parts of themselves that allow them to be free without being afraid.

The capacity to be surprised also shuts down when one has had to abandon fantasy and playing too soon to the demands of harsh reality. Being surprised means not knowing and not being in control, which creates a vulnerability that causes anxiety. The titles of both songs are significant if one thinks of them in light of the above. One says it can no longer be the way it used to once in a while, while the other wonders and allows itself to be carried with that wonder.

Sahir’s lyrics have two qualities of good psychotherapy (I refer to the psychoanalytic or depth psychological approaches). It has the capacity to surprise, for when I heard the song for the first time I was caught by surprise both at the point where he dips into the level of reality after giving a glimpse of what the mind has fantasized, as well as when he rises again from reality back to fantasy with the very last ‘I know…. But..”. A second quality it has is of giving something to keep the listener going, by not putting an end to his fantasy-ing and imagination. To go on being. What philosophers and others have called Eros.

Keeping the fantasy alive is important for one to feel “alive” in the true sense of being. Life is not about going towards something. It is about the here and now. The chase is more important than the capture. The capture brings about an end to the game. What do you do then?

The entire meaning of a wide range of emotions and their whole worth comes from your experience of them. Love, for instance. The maximum you can derive out of that emotion is to be in love, to feel it from the depths of your being. Not to feel it towards a certain object alone but rather to experience it within yourself. Being with the one you love is an advantage, but doesn’t, or shouldn’t change your experience of it in any way, because it became a complete emotion the moment you began to feel it.

It need not “have” the other in order to attain a greater or more evolved state.

Love is an experience inside your own being that leads you to find things outside of you to give it an outlet or an organized form. You may like someone or admire them because of their qualities, but you love them only if you have opened yourself up to feeling love in general in the first place.

But the beautiful thing is, the moment you are able to do this you feel like you have reached the pinnacle of what is pleasurable and makes life worth living.

Poets in their wonderful double entendres and their prose have captured the essence of life and love like no one else has.

Ghalib, (insert “Sigh” here) once wrote

“Tere vaade par jiye hum
to yeh jaan jhoot jaana
ki khushi se mar na jaate
agar aitbaar hota ? "

(To say that I live because of your promise to me

Would make this life of mine a lie.

For would I not have died of sheer joy

Had I trusted it to be sincere?)

Apart from the surface level meaning of the inability to trust the love of a beloved, I think what he is also trying to get at is the essence – the juissance- of life which is in the journey between wanting and having. We live in a valley of desire and longing, and to attain all that we want would be equivalent to ceasing to live.

Like delaying an orgasm indefinitely

So that the heightened arousal, which in itself is pleasing, doesn’t come to an immediate end.

Maine poocha chand se

A strangely lovely thing about Srinagar was that the moon always seemed larger there. I don't know why or how. Every night while going for a stroll I would look up, shake my head and ask whoever I was walking next to- How is it that the moon is so much brighter and bigger here than in Delhi?

The only answers I ever got involved either an amused laughter at my question, or a shy smile.

On second thought, maybe that was enough of an answer after all.

"When you realise you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible"

(Said a funny man to an annoying yet endearing-in-some-way woman in a feature film I happened to watch today)

There is a reason why I labelled this "Psychoanalysis" as well

Tune deewana banaaya toh main deewana bana

Ab mujhe hosh ki duniya mein tamaasha na bana*

-

You drove me to insanity and I became insane

Now don't make me a poor joke in the world of the sane

* Hazrat Shah Niyaz

(Translation by Muzaffar Ali)

In Kashmir, this too happens once in a while

The golden sun, feeling just a little dry
Rolled down the mountain,
And slid into the cool water of the lake
Watched by a lone bird in flight
That bemusedly drew circles in sky

Multi-isms of my motherland

"India also has philosophical and aesthetic traditions that are truly majestic in their scope and depth. These range from Vedanta's unifying existentialism to Ghalib's playful symbolism, from Bhagavad Gita's enlightened pragmatism to Gandhi's unflinching pacifism, from Khajuraho's informed hedonism to Kathakali's narrative corporealism, from Buddha's contemplative realism to Tagore's spiritual lyricism, from Nanak's divine eclecticism to Nehru's sophesticated secularism, and from Kabir's poetic mysticism to Rushdie's sardonic surrealism"

- Dr. Salman Akhtar,

Gifted writer and poet, exceptional orator.

Also, a psychoanalyst and psychiatrist.

in 'Freud Along the Ganges- Psychoanalytic Reflections on the People and Culture of India'

Ease

TQ: You are god sent
Holy Cow: we all are my dear
TQ: or whoever you would like to have been sent by
Holy Cow: equally god sent or non god sent, whichever way you look at it
TQ: :) Thank you would be less controversial ..
Holy Cow: Indeed. And you are welcome :-)

It's nice to be able to set things straight with friends this way.

A question

Did you exchange
A walk-on part in a war
For a lead role
In a cage?

The battle for the shoe-box nest

After this glorious period in recent history when the Holy Cow was playing hostess and waitress to the lovely mainas, there was a strange development that set into motion much "tsk tsk" ing and other sounds of approval, disapproval, surprise, horror, glee et cetera.

What had happened was that there were unexpected visitors who basically usurped the poor mainas from their royal abode- a pigeon couple. Now I love all animals, birds and other non human life. I do. But I like some more than I do others (which is basically a better way of saying I like some less than I do others), and pigeons are the unfortunate lot that fall in the less-than-others category. I think they're great and contribute to the general pleasantness of the world in several ways, but I also cannot tell a lie and say that I think they are the brightest winged things I have ever come across.

When I discovered that they were planning to make the shoe-box nest their new home, I did feel a little bad for the mainas who had built the nest from scratch (I extend the sympathies from the particular couple that built this nest to the species as a whole). Also, I honestly didn't think the plump pigeons could shuffle in and out of it as easily as the relatively smaller and more graceful mainas could have. But I shrugged after a little shake of the head and was ready to move onto playing hostess for the pigeons.

When the poor maina arrived again, expecting to find its nest untouched, it was actually attacked by the pigeon and there was a minor tiff between the two. The fight was duly watched by the Holy Cow and her dearly beloved other, where of course she supported the maina. The other also was kind enough to sympathise with the maina rather than the pigeon.

Anyway, the pigeon won and for a while there were pigeon eggs in the nest. They didn't hatch unfortunately (and might I also add that pigeon sounds aren't nearly as musical to the ears as maina sounds are).

Then there was a period where there was no real dweller, but both maina and pigeon often came, sat around and left. The pigeon was most consistent in its presence though.

Last week, it had a visitor.


This lovely bright green parrot had crawled (upside down) down the wire

Had a look at the nest


Was a bit startled to find the pigeon staring at it


And decided to take another parting look at it's would-have-been home before flying off, no doubt a little disgruntled.