Tag: time

Love in the Era of Dating Apps

I wonder how does love fare

In the era of dating apps

Earlier love came gate crashing into our lives

Annoyingly when we least expected it

It sat as an unwanted guest

Messing up all the time lines

It waited patiently for its turn

To unleash it’s charm

And make its way into our lives

I wonder how love copes now

In the era of dating and speed dating

Has it become impatient?

Does it move along with our swipes

Swipe right you may find it

Swipe left you may lose it or vice versa

With Apps and profiles

As the ultimate gate keepers

How will it ever get to gate-crash?

Is love at first sight even a possibility?

There are always damn screen and filters

And best edited profile pictures

And then when you personally meet

With ample room for expectations

And disdain

Does love leave the table politely?

Earlier love would linger on

And maybe even stalk

And now it ghosts

Earlier there were no promises or forever

But yet love would haunt for life

I no longer know how it works

When we lay all our cards on the table

Hoping for a fair game

But then it turns out

There are no rules of the game

Love remains a situationship

Waiting for an upgrade

It is always a clean slate

No misgivings, no messiness

Light as a butterfly

Love flutters in and out of life

No surprises anymore

No confessions either

Love in the age of AI and Apps

Has turned out to be a smart love

With racing heartbeats in rings and watches

No broken hearts, no unrequited love

Nor platonic or overtly lustful

Love itself has become a need

A box to be ticked

The more you chase it, the more it eludes

That hope – the next swipe might

Bring it to your table right?

Keep at it!!!

Knowing love, it will still turn up

To upset all your plans

Staring right at you

Sweeping you in a twister storm

And then dumping you

Totally broken but warm

It will teach you to smile and sob

Only love can teach love

It is a shape shifting algorithm

Making an absolute fool of

Even the wisest one!!

Going Solo

It didn’t take long

To go solo

Be it movies

Or restaurants

Or museums

Or a bookstore

Or treks

I don’t even remember

When it began

Perhaps during my college

My long solo commute?

Every daily commuter

Is always alone

Though almost crushed

In a crowded train or bus

There is a constant

Inner talk with self

About a thing

Or millions of things

Or just an empty mind

Too fatigued to think

You don’t need people

When you grow up

So rugged

And then of course

There are betrayals

Of trust and time

Then there was beautiful phase

When my newborn boy

Became my extension

I was never alone

I was his constant

For that tiny life

I had brought forth

Into this chaotic world

I was never alone

Kids never let you be

Unless you play along

So often it would

Be the library or bookstore  visits

Where I would sit solo

In line of sight of my boy

Far far away in the kids section

I don’t remember

Who exactly was I

Training to be alone ?

After the boy grew up

And flew off far far away

I made up my mind

To be the solitary reaper

Of my abandoned pursuits

I unearthed my buried self

In place of a girl in 20’s

Out came a woman in her 50’s

More calmer, confident and wiser

Much slower too

How I wish I could reach out

To that girl and tell her to go solo

The world abandons you anyways

Women are supposed to play

A second fiddle in everything

Wish I could spare her from

All the traumas and dilemmas

And of course all the tears

My dark circles are rightfully earned

But here I am in my 50’s

Carrying that abandoned

Spirit of my 20’s

I know it feels absurd

To those who never tried

(Or didn’t have to)

To stand up for oneself

And live for a while

Remember?

We have abandoned our earth too

Who moves solo in the dark space

And then there is the final solo act

When we depart solo!!

An Ode to A Photographer

Photography is a rare art

Playing with omnipresent

Light and Time 

Capturing moments

That transpire magically

Just like a sudden flight of a bird

Or deep pensive prayer of a saint

Or something unsettling

Or maybe deeply political

Just like a dying child staring

At an approaching vulture

These are moments of truth

That transcends Time

A photograph rarely lies

Unless of course it is doctored

To peddle a lie

Ever since it’s invention

There have been warriors

Going to the ends and the depth

To capture beauty and horror

Their gaze becomes

The gaze of the masses

That’s the magic

They turn you

Into them

The gaze changes places

You become the onlooker

Your silence becomes complicity

Life of a photographer

Isn’t an easy one

Trudging with the gears

They make the unseen

And unknown visible

They unravel the truth

That hides in the plain sight

Leaving us to wonder

How did we allow this to happen?

Are we going to do something?

Photographs have changed

The world history

But photographers carry

The burden of Sisyphus

They must push the boulders

And the borders again and again

They must teach

The blind populace to see 

And behold the truth

And not turn a blind eye 

Again and again

Photographers have turned 

Cosmetic over ages

They just indulge in beauty

Safety and narcissism of it

Yet there came along

A rare tall one

With a discerning eye

And deep wisdom

Who could stop the world

With one single photograph

Using simple Light and Time

To paint the undeniable Truth

An ace visual storyteller

Holding the mirror to the world

Leaving for the future

Stories that are imprinted

By light on the frames of Time

And memory forever!!

PS: In remembrance of legendary Raghu Rai who passed on to another realm today

Counting Privileges

Not born poor

Neither rich

Not born marginalized

Neither a majoritarian

Not born with old money

Neither there is new money

Not born beautiful

Nor very ugly

Neither here

Nor there

Being somewhere

Also nowhere

Neither ultra left

Nor right or far right

Neither a doomsayer

Nor a dreamer

Somewhere in between

Nor a perpetrator

Or a predictor

Nor a victim

Nor cruel

Neither the kindest

Perhaps inbetween

Negotiating space

Counting Privileges

And gratitudes

Neither totally dead

Nor totally alive

Neither absent

Nor present

Somewhere in between

Totally exhausted

Brain fogged

Toiling like Sisyphus

Also being a zombie

Neither seeking

Validation

Nor rejection

Being there

And not being there

Trying to be

And not to be

Breathing in

Gasping out

Counting my privileges

As well as my curses

Silent spectator

Living while dying

Superposed states of being

Adding to almost nothing!!

As Tears Go By

Marianne you sang

“As Tears Go By”

At a very tender age

And then life happened

Men took you for granted

They were seen as Bohemians

But you were labelled a slut

You went down the rabbit hole

Found yourself living on the streets

One has to hit the bottom low

To reverse the curve

Which you did brilliantly

And with much grace

You didn’t hate the men

You chose to rise above them

They sought popularity

You took refuge in literature and poetry

You forged your own solo path

And gave the world its own

Cold war anthem

“Broken English”

A complete arch of life

Beating all odds

Seeking depth and beauty

Amidst all the darkness

Your voice changed too

But your singing didn’t

The world denied you awards

Time and again

But you never cared

Life has to be lived

After all for life’s sake

Not for the sake of

Judgement and validation

Validation from whom?

And for why?

People will discover

Your “Seven Deadly Sins” 

Which actually saved you!!

Oh! Marianne…

As life goes by…

Your words ring so true!!

Image courtesy: Album cover of Broken English

Waiting Time

We will certainly wait

But for how long?

Can you hear the collective gasp?

Can you see the crimson pyres?

Sorry, there is no waiting time

In this game of death!!

How long do we wait?

For better sense to prevail

For wars to end

For children to get a chance

To live their life

How long do we wait?

For the Time that never arrives

Time of peace

Time of love

Time of kinship

How long do we wait?

For the rains

For the barren land

To become green again

For the earth to heal

How long do we need to wait?

For the stars to be visible again

To be able to breathe again

Perhaps sing again

How long do we wait?

For a day without news of abuse

A day with no school shootings

No war or no killings

No rapes or acid attacks

Just how long?

Just how long before we value

Humanity and living

How long before we value

Equality and love

We have been waiting

Far too long

Too too long

To find ourselves

To love ourselves

Immortality

There are ways to live forever

Through your sheer talent

There are ways to be

Remembered fondly

By gently nudging the broken souls

Be it Van Gogh or Sylvia Plath

Or countless many more

Who struggled for existence

Struggled to pursue their passion

They died as mere beings

Unrecognised mortals

But lived forever

As Immortals…

Time truly

Is a game changer

The more you 

Try to hold on to it

The more quickly it slips away

And then without

Your knowledge or approval

It makes you live forever

As immortals…

Condemned to be

As per everyone’s

Imagination and perception!!

Possibilities

It is difficult to be optimistic

Some always see

half glass empty

Because it is empty

Emptiness is overwhelming

And it consists of suffering

And all kinds of lacks

A cruel void

But it also presents

Immense possibilities

There is a space to fill

There is a space that can change

However grim realities are

Change is always a possibility

It just happened in Hungary

Before it came to Nepal, Bangladesh

Common young people turned up

In streets and in polling booths

They did not stare at the void

And the status quo

They decided to upturn the glass

That’s the tipping point

One country at a time is reaching

Rekindling hope against all hope

For possibilities against

What seems impossible

History shows tyrants were defeated

There is an overwhelming evidence

We know the half empty glass

Can be filled with hope

And unknown possibilities

We need courage to

Keep trudging

To live with and without

To believe

And to simply show up

When possibilities emerge!!

Magic of Books

We devour books

By different authors

About different places

With different perspectives

Diverse stories in

Written in various

Language, words and vocabulary

Idioms, metaphors and phrases

We become inhabitants of the story

A keen observer or listener or

A lizard on the wall

Watching the characters build up

The taut tension between them

and then the resolution

(Or lack of it)

The beginning and the end

The two fixed ends of any story

The story stretched out in between

Just like the tension

Of a guitar string

That creates harmonics

(And the disharmony)

It is punctuated with

Vibes, noise and silences

Books are our escape

Just like music or movies

They create an imaginary world

For us to inhabit

Even if momentarily

Till the last page of the book

The places which are real

For the writer

Become our wild imagination

Our ultimate refuge

Most blissful death

Would be perhaps

Being completely lost in a book

Imagine walking on those

Cobbled street of another time

Or in a futuristic world

And getting left behind forever

For there is no coming back!!

No rude awakenings

Morning alarms and drudgery

No looking out for your

Favourite characters or places

We will become as unreal

Or Surreal as them!!

PS: Ramblings after the monthly book club meeting

Love

A Noun?

A Verb?

An Adjective?

Human value?

Emotion?

Attachment?

Attraction?

Respect ?

Friendship?

Kinship?

Dopamine?

Oxytocin?

Validation?

Affection?

Admiration?

Desire?

Conditional?

Unconditional?

Affection?

Romance?

Platonic?

Narcissism ?

Passion?

Adoration?

Devotion?

Compassion?

Sympathy?

Obsession?

Lust?

Greed?

Love encompasses all, takes various forms… yet no one understands it…

PS: Have I missed something? Do add..