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sitanshi talati-parikh

sitanshi talati-parikh

Tag Archives: Thoughts

what must one love – the book or the cover?

06 Friday Feb 2009

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Musings

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Beauty, Death, Thoughts

I don’t mean to be morbid – but when I saw the fragile dead body, it really made me think. When life seeps out of the body, there is nothing left but a mass of biodegradable waste, and yet it is that biodegradable waste that we hanker for, love, hate and worship. As ‘beauty’ is sold as a concept, as a way of life, as a necessisity, we really wonder why we chase after something so ephemeral. Tons of times we are reminded that it is the inner beauty that one must look out for, but only until we see the decay of the outer self, that we realise the sheer truth of that statement. The outer blinds us, because it is simply more pleasing to see ‘pretty’ things.

When we form deep attachments to people, do we realise that we are not forming them to their body, which will fade; we are not forming to their heart, mind or personality, because that is an abstract concept that disappears the moment life remains no more; we are forming an attachment to things that will no longer exist – except in our memory. Is that why humans have a strange fondness for pictures and photos? The longing to preserve moments, time and people beyond their span of existence.

We can claim that we love the soul, the inexplicable part of a person that is entwined in karma and all things mysterious, but can we feel that soul, is it tactile enough for us to love it and miss it? We can spend our entire life loving things and people, and desperately trying to hold on to those we love, when all along, they are destined to disappear in a poof.

Verve Diaries on 26/11: Sab Nahi Chalta Hai

19 Monday Jan 2009

Posted by sitanshi talati-parikh in Publication: Verve Magazine, Social Chronicles

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26/11, comment, In Memoriam, India, mumbai, Thoughts, vervemagazine

Published: Verve Magazine, In Memoriam Issue, January 2009

‘Light a candle and watch it burn away
Light a fire in your soul and keep it here to stay….’

I read post after post, article after article of heart-rending stories and traumatic accounts. In reading them, I forget my own pain. But a greater anguish floods my soul – it is a gut-wrenching feeling, like something is being ripped out from inside. The city isn’t burning, we are. We are being caught alive and examined in public – it is our own public hanging and extermination – well-deserved in the face of reality. It made me angry when we revelled in the spirit of Mumbai, to bounce back and just get into work, without a second thought. I came to work, broken and disheartened, walked into the building barely a block away from Café Leopold and watched everyone discussing the horror in muted tones, with escalating emotions. I couldn’t join in. I watched people – young people – say ‘but it will be okay – we will be back to normal soon, sab chalta hai’. My mind screamed out to them – what is normal? Is our apathy – which is neither resilience nor spiritedness – normal?

As I arrived, a few days later for the protest march and drifted along with the throng, as if I were a paper boat riding a wave, something snapped within me. A sense of pride, a sense of conviction, a sense of determination, a sense of change. As the chants mounted into a powerful crescendo, it was the chant of a city finding its spirit. The real spirit – not to sit back and watch, but to stand up and take charge.

I felt a thundering inside me, as I watched the intelligentsia rub shoulders with the workers. Every ethnic community stood unified that night – the remote SoBoites who generally abscond from voting because it is beneath them, stormed the streets and asked for justice, pushed for change.

Of course this time it was because it was the Taj and Oberoi that got hit. Of course it was because these are places that we could have been at – on another day, at another time. And of course, it made people uncomfortable – for the first time, this made them sit up and take notice. It was unfortunately at the cost of so many people, so many people we knew, but all the same, it gave Mumbai a soul.

If we need a cause to get motivated, this is it. Let us not burn another candle in our lives – a candle that may brighten up a dark night, sympathise with a bereft one and watch out for a lost soul; but ones which eventually melt away into the night like stained wax. Let it not be another incident relegated to the archives of human thought – better left undisturbed. Let us wake every day with a fire that eats into us, ravages us, demanding that we do something, to make it right. Let it not take the loss of one more life before we hold onto our very evasive Mumbai soul.

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