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North Star Talks

  • Are you even there?

    May 17th, 2021

    (TRIGGER WARNING: I have jotted down some reflections below on the pandemic, about the “system” and the response to devastation by the powers that be. I acknowledge that it is an achingly draining topic for many of us, with the tragic losses we see all around. I also wondered if it is right to write anything negative on the epic mishandling we have witnessed. I have chosen to share this poem despite these thoughts, because I believe that recording one’s thoughts in these times (a) serves as a bookmark for the future, and (b) censoring oneself to avoid asking questions and remaining positive is just toxic positivity, and absolves those who deserve these questions. Please read this only if you are comfortable with broaching this topic. You can always drop me a text to discuss this poem, or anything at all, any time. In these times, solidarity and time with friends and family, and engagement with each other will see us through.)

    Are you even there
    to see what’s becoming of us?
    I never expected much from
    you, true, but are you there?

    See the nameless body bags
    covered up by sand next to Ganga.
    Are your heads buried in there too,
    refusing to look at our dead?
    Acknowledge what is happening!
    At least now, open your eyes!

    See the smoke-filled roads next
    to crematoriums, and the earth
    swelling up in the graveyards.
    In 2021, is this how we count the dead,
    by being grave-watchers and pyre-counters?

    Inhale. Exhale. This is too much.
    This kills us today. So, do not point
    away and duck this, I chose you-
    ARE YOU EVEN THERE?

    Today there is just silence, you
    have muffled all our pain and protest.
    Weary and numb, I shake my head,
    each new loss- just a flesh wound by now.

    I write this today to remind myself, you make
    millions walk on roads, you vanish when
    millions gasped, you tear down my history,
    my sanity, and with each excess, you make
    me too tired to ask you if you even care.

  • Kindness

    April 29th, 2021

    (An ode to the millions of kind souls and their life-saving work during these troubling times.)

    Kindness breeds with contact,
    passed down from a kind soul
    to another, an ever-sharing cycle
    of care, empathy and tenderness.

    Kindness grows not on the walls
    in our hearts but in its cracks,
    and fills up the spaces- looking
    good while doing so too.

    I learn kindness anew each day,
    from those I see around me.  A million
    Samaritans may not know they teach it,
    but in their actions I learn it anyway.

    Kindness can save and enrich
    lives, all it takes is one choice.
    Free to use, easy to share, kindness
    begets kindness and grows with a smile.

    Kind thoughts and kind spirits,
    long may you live on! For until the
    last person kind to others breaths
    no more, we may call ourselves humans.

  • Little Things

    February 25th, 2021

    Little steps I took as a child,
    tottering, falling, and bawling.
    But those steps got me here,
    and now I am walking fine.

    Little by little I spelled out words,
    Tea, Are, Eye, Sea, Kay, Why-
    But as tricky as the words were,
    today I think and read and write.

    Little toys I played with, and made
    model planes and conducted trains.
    But now each memory shines bright
    in my happy-childhood mosaic.

    Little bit at a time, I shared my life,
    sat down with strangers, and got up with
    friends. Little jokes and stories were shared,
    little realizing how much we cared.

    Little smiles followed by grins replace
    streaming tears and anxious sighs.
    Indeed, little joys suffice in tearing down
    tears and frightening away fears.

    Every little moment in life passes
    and with it, a part of us too. But life
    is full of little moments, little joys.
    It’s never too little, or too late.

    Little things are planted, and
    tend to grow slow. But trust me,
    and trust yourself- tend to these
    with love and big things grow.

  • The Importance of History

    February 7th, 2021

    Indian history does not get talked about enough (the what-actually-happened-and-was-recorded part of it and NOT the flying spaceships, anti-gravity stones, and our prescient discovery of head transplants kind).  History school books generally emphasize a select few empires and dynasties, relegating the rest of our vast history to a footnote or a paragraph.  Like shining a torchlight on one spot in your room for a few seconds and attempting to learn all about your house and its members. It is understandable, as Indian history could never be a monolith. Indian society or India as we now know it never existed until so recently in the past (brief moments achieved by great conquerors excluded).  For an overwhelming majority of our subcontinent’s history, it has seen dozens and scores of kingdoms at any given point. However:

    • A vast majority is taught keeping in mind the current political and social power structures.
    • History as it is taught in schools focuses on the great conquerors of the subcontinent- the Maurya empire, the Gupta empire, the Mughals, and the British.
    • Some briefly mention the regional stabilizers and empires such as the Marathas, Cholas, Cheras, and Pandyas.
    • The empires of Gurjara-Pratiharas in the west and Gondwanas in central India are hardly given any credit, and are reflective of the general social status of their respective communities (Gurjars and Gonds) today. 
    • The Rashtrakuta empire is extremely underrated in my view, as it was one of the biggest empires in India never talked about. 
    • The Rashtrakuta empire held the Deccan Plateau for almost 250 years, and at one point extended from the Himalayas to the Malabar coast.  

    Point being- Indian history is a blast, much like world history and any history that is not just the retelling of facts, but an attempt to understand ourselves and our journey to where we now are. The importance of history in one’s life cannot be understated.  History is not a dry transcript of what happened in a disconnected and irrelevant past. It is a connection from the past to the present, with lessons for the future.  History teaches us how thoughts and ideas have shaped our societies, and continue to shape us. 

    History gives us perspective.  The prevalent political, cultural and societal issues of yesterday that shaped our society explain the issues and injustices of today.  History allows us to examine feats of great love, creativity, honor, strength, devotion and intelligence.  Understanding the past also helps us to introspect and learn from failures through ignorance, underestimation, misfortune and betrayal. A well-rounded education of today demands a lesson recap of the past. 

    Moreover, it is so much fun! The past is a repository of amazing stories, truths stranger than fiction, sources of inspiration and awe-inspiring perspective of our small part to play in the grand theatre of life.  The past has the ability to astound, move and touch us. By connecting to our past, we also connect to what perennially stays human, our strengths, frailties, failings, our ability to struggle, and our indefatigable thirst for recovery.

    Last year I had started writing poetry and the occasional piece here. In 2021, my goal is to write more about history, bringing to light little pockets of forgotten episodes from our past. Do let me know what you think of it!

  • A Day at Juhu Beach

    December 31st, 2020

    Hotel Sea Princess is a charming and elegant hotel on the Juhu beach, offering me a scenic view of the Arabian Sea.  The vast expanse of the light blue waters merging with the sky on the horizon, and the diminishing wetness of the packed sand on the beach is a natural Prozac to a weekday.  The Juhu beach is littered with children, young and old- playing cricket, watching the waves in a meditative silence, and old and new friends catching up over packets of chips, bhuttas, or the omnipresent chaat.

    An argument breaks out between the players of the Juhu Beach XI, over a fervent run-out appeal.  In Indian gully cricket, the services of an umpire are rarely required and used.  Instead, appeals are made to the fair-mindedness of the individual players- resulting in complicated negotiations, reminders of past events of ‘cheating’ which were overlooked, “c’mon man” or “chal na” depending on which region of India- an escalating situation ensuing in the match being halted for a few minutes, decisions being taken by senior players overseeing the goodwill component of each game, and play resuming as normal after much swearing and protestations on either side. 

    It’s easy to spot the health-induced visitors to the Juhu beach- clearly set apart from the rest by their dogged refusal to enjoy the scenic sunset for more than a few seconds.  By now, the sun has begun changing colour from bright yellow to a cooler shade, glistening on the water and the wet sand.  Soon, it commences its inevitable march towards the horizon, inching below for another night’s rest- or more- appropriately, turning cooler (or redder?) as we turn our faces away for yet another night.

    The vista is quite ideal for all kinds of observation and contemplation- palm trees waving gently in the background, a murder of low flying crows looking for delicious leftovers on the beach, a multicolour hue of sarees, shirts and even nighties out to enjoy the cool breeze, children yelling out “Ball!!” to any kind bystanders or grandmothers tugging their 45-degree slanting grandchildren from embracing the sand, entreating them with a balloon.  A soothing mixtape of life, a day out at the Juhu beach is a break from the hamster wheel. As I watch yet another flock of pigeons take off with a loud flutter and catch the peals of laughter from the Juhu Beach XI, I am reminded that life, and its untiring spirit of joy, healing, and passion, goes on.

  • A Book To Pick

    December 13th, 2020

    Hey, did I mention?
    I picked up a book.
    A library opened up nearby-
    I went to have a look.

    Each time I rush home though
    hugging a new book to my heart,
    A hobby tried, a life shared-
    what an ensconcing work of art!

    I see classics, comics,
    prose, poetry and advice.
    A thousand people, past and present,
    I have a window into their lives.

    I grab books off the shelves,
    giddily choosing some new friends.
    Knowledge, laughter, company, and wonder-
    a good book’s curse is only that it ends.

    At the counter I always waver
    as I am forced to pick the best.
    How would I judge books-
    pick one and leave the rest?

    I make the choice and trust
    my time and my choices ahead.
    There’s more lives to be gazed at,
    and many words I haven’t yet read.

  • Spring In My Step

    November 16th, 2020

    A spring in my step today,
    or am I imagining this?
    Doesn’t matter, it’s a start.
    It makes my day a better day.

    I stopped listening to Fear,
    I got tired of not talking back,
    I just kept moving on, moving on
    And I can sense my mind getting clear.

    A spark of light, a smell of hope,
    or am I imagining this?
    Doesn’t matter, I’ve got this,
    I’ve finally found a way to cope.

    “WHAT do I do? What DO I do?”
    are questions I feared.
    I have no answers to that, haha,
    but today I won’t engage, just do.

    A smile on my lips, a cheery thought,
    or am I imagining this?
    Doesn’t matter, I’m doing something.
    That’s all that I ever sought.

  • A Walk in the Woods

    September 12th, 2020

    Leaves trembling in the breeze,
    A low whistle of nature’s caress.
    Green multiplied upon lush green,
    It takes me a minute to process.

    Each tree, tall and silent as a gentle giant,
    pines and deodhars at the wilderness church.
    The dewy grass and the mossy overgrowth,
    This- all of this- is the answer to my search.

    I stroll on, drinking it all in.
    My time with these woods is dear.
    I have to be back in the city,
    and may not be back at for a year.

    I see an inviting stone, which I decline.
    I walk past a crooked tree, an overgrown root.
    Apart from the slight crunch of the earth,
    the silence is eerie, inevitable, absolute.

    I crack a smile; this is what I wanted.
    Some solitude, some peace, some calm.
    Life keeps happening, always. My mind
    needs this break from constant alarm.

    I should turn back now; the sun sets
    soon. Someday I shall be back here.
    Maybe I’ll walk different paths for different
    reasons, but the woods shall be familiar.

  • The Emperor of All Maladies- a review

    August 28th, 2020

    Siddhartha Mukherjee’s The Emperor of All Maladies- A Biography of Cancer is a deep dive into the history of cancer, its recorded occurrence and treatment. The book highlights the multitudes of ground-breaking innovations that have helped scientists understand and, to a lesser extent, treat the various kinds of cancers occurring among humans. The book follows a neat sequence where the reader is introduced to a patient being treated by the author himself- prompting the author to ask – what is cancer? After all, knowing the enemy secures half the battle, and cancer might be one of the most prevalent diseases ordinary people such as you or I would know the least about.

    Mukherjee examines the history of cancer in Egyptian, Persian, and Greek civilizations. The Egyptian physicist Imhotep, back in 2500 BC, had prepared a treatise on the prevalent diseases and their cures, but for ‘bulging masses within the breast’, he solemnly notes “There is none.” We hear of legends of Queen Atossa, the queen of Persia around 500 BC, having performed one of the world’s first recorded mastectomies, by ordering her breast to be cut off. Hippocrates, after whom the Hippocratic Oath is named, explained all illnesses as forms of imbalance among the four cardinal fluids (or humors) of the human body- blood, phlegm, yellow bile, and black bile. He was also the person to name the disease as cancer, or as it was known then- ‘karkinos’ or crabs, due to the resemblance of the earliest tumors examined with crabs (which is where we get the zodiac sign from). In the year 160 AD, Galen expanded on this idea by noting that cancers were caused due to the excess in black bile in our bodies.

    We follow the needle of time through the Renaissance, the first autopsies and anatomies of the human body conducted, the invention of microscopes and the identification of the frenzied, uncontrolled division of cells that is cancer. We explore the roots of chemotherapy, the manic lengths of radical mastectomy, the various conceptions and misconceptions involving the causes of cancer. Mukherjee paints a vivid picture of these scientific innovations, and the failures as well, being pursued. Interestingly, we also read about the political efforts made by the Sidney Farber and Mary Lasker made during the Nixon era to educate and sensitize the voting population and draw the attention of politicians, and the many crucial inventions made by numerous individuals that have allowed us to understand, and in some cases, beat down cancer.

    Cancer is a terrifying subject, and even more crucially, is a terrifyingly complex field to understand. However, this book notes and credits the many innovators, chemists, surgeons, and researchers who have developed the weapons we use today to battle cancer. Unsurprisingly, this book does not conclude with a happy ending, and there’s no aspirin-like panacea developed to beat all kinds of cancer today. Our science is not there yet. However, this book serves to educate us in simple terms “in the battle against cancer- where were we, where are we, and what does the future look like?”

    This book is a fitting reminder of the mortality of the human body. Mukherjee mentions many survivors of cancer, and many more who couldn’t make it. Reading this book, it is impossible not to reflect on how seemingly random, sudden, and unpredictable cancer. It is a mutation in our very genes, a betrayal or a incorrect development from within. Our life, and our mortality, continues to never be in our control. The Emperor of All Maladies provokes a greater appreciation for the temporary nature of our existence. Lastly, I would like to add a personal note- reflect on your life, your loved ones and your priorities. Cherish, love and rejoice in this marvel. After all, life is never as secure and inalienable as we assume it to be.

  • Love in Monsoons

    August 26th, 2020

    I had booked a table for us at ten,
    But the night was already magical when,
    I last asked her if I could see her again?
    She blushed, “I hope I see you more often.”

    Dinner was thrill, her glee was pure,
    the best part of the night. I was sure
    I wanted to be with her all the more,
    I feel thankful for what fate had in store.

    As the raindrops come down, and see
    her lovely visage is lit up! I’m free
    to sing a song of my heart, and be
    a nightingale, tonight, upon my tree!

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