Think, think, think!

When interviewed about 'Being Cyrus', Saif Ali Khan said that he was interested in the movie because acting out a character in the language which he thought in would be different.

Now, this was how long ago?...I don't remember. But ever since then, I have been trying to figure out what language I think in. It's not as easy as it seems. The figuring out part, I mean.

The first thing that you attempt to do in the process is to clear your mind so that you can 'hear' your thoughts clearly. When you fail miserably, you settle for the best that you could do.And then you listen, or at least, try to. When I did that, I heard, 'Oookaaay,what language am I thinking in?'. All right. So my mind speaks English. Cool. Matter settled.
But that was sorta easy, right? You bet!

A couple of weeks later, I was looking up stuff about the all-important Seebeck Effect on the Internet and my mother was watching a lame soap on TV. The character (a mother-in-law) was 'thinking' up of new ways to make others' lives miserable [Surprise!Surprise!]. All right. So she thinks in Hindi. Good for her. Do I think in Hindi? "Arrey, nahi yaar", I thought. Wait a sec, wasn't that Hindi? Nice. My mind is bilingual.

It doesn't stop just there. Once I did something really dumb. Too dumb to be mentioned here. And for some unknown reason, I thought of what one of my friends, who comes up with the funniest criticisms in Malayalam, would say. And I did think of something. Not only that, I continued to imagine the whole situation in my mind, in Malayalam.Great. I can't even speak Malayalam but my mind can.My brilliant brain can think in 3 languages.

Apart from this, whenever I spoke in Gujarati, I found myself thinking in the same language later on for some time. Four.

So what is the answer to my quest for finding out the language in which I think? Is there no difference between the languages that we speak in and think in? After a LOT of contemplation, I could come up with just one solution.So here it goes.

Our mind doesn't have a language. It just thinks. It considers stuff and we just know it. It Imagines. Imagination doesn't need a language. And whenever you catch yourself 'thinking' in a language, it's just you imagining of conversing with someone, maybe yourself, or even of writing something. Maybe our thoughts are our conversations with ourselves. I don't know. I am not sure. Maybe I'll never know. Maybe I will.

So as I conclude, I ask you (if you are still reading that is), what language does your mind think in?

Blessing In Disguise.

Don't you get it?
You don't mean anything anymore.
Nothing.
Stay there. I here.
Pretence of concord is just that: pretence.

Was. Is not.
Did. Do not. Don't want to.
Eye-opener.
Learning from mistakes is something that I've learnt.

Breaking trust, breaks all.
Rejoined by friends, most precious.
Comprehension of the value of Friendship.
Bliss!

Ode To An Odyssey.

Gone is the time when there was time,
Now ‘tis no more.

Time, treasured times
Of thoughts, tears and smiles,
Of love, joy and spirit,

The company, sufficient.
The emotions, abundant.
The bond, ceaseless, most powerful.

Every unsaid glance, comprehended.
Every need, friended.
Every secret, shared.
Every heart, bared.

Age of friendship, insignificant.
It’s span, eternal.
Value of the tears, with the smiles, at par.
Lesson from every experience, gained.
No regrets, no amends desired.
The past formed them, the present values them and the future will cherish them: Memories.
Complete elucidation, impossible.
Inexpressible for lack of words.
Gratitude for friendship, limitless, understated.
Thank You.

Friend...Philosopher...and Guide.

As Coleridge suggested in his poem, Kubla Khan, life is made up of contradictions and one of these is that of meeting and parting. Human beings, being the social animals that they are, meet plenty of people in their lives. The sadness of parting with these people is directly proportional to the influence and impression that they leave behind.

We never thought that our school life would bring us such a moment; yet it did take shape when our beloved English Teacher, Mrs. Lakshmi Nair announced her decision to leave.

Popularly called LT (=Lakshmi Teacher) by the student community, she was one of those teachers whom everyone was afraid of. Just the knowledge that LT was in a 10 metre radius was enough to get the students to maintain pin-drop silence and sit straight with every muscle tensed until she passed by.

It's interesting how absence makes you realize the true value of someone. We took it for granted that LT would always be there. But on hearing her decision to leave, it became quite next to impossible to picture school without her. Frankly speaking, most of us weren't big fans of poetry till class XI. But gone are the days when we found poetry boring. From Day-1, LT brought poetry to life (no cliché intended). She dedicatedly gave us ample background information about the poet and the poem before actually starting with the poem. Her interpretations of the poems and stories really made you think. She had her own way of teaching, a way that lead every one of her students to imagine the scene perfectly in her mind. Poetry class soon became something to look forward to in the weekly time-table. It was struck off from 'The Bunkable Classes List'.

LT could speak about anything and everything, and you would just stare amazedly at her. She didn't have to try too hard to inspire people. She wiped away my notion that poetry was for boring people. I tried my hand at poetry and writing and would like to think that she would be proud of my work.

Besides her teaching, she is a great person. Everything about her, from the way she carries herself, to her witty comments, is etched deep in our memory. She has the power to intimidate you; yet, you can't help yourself from respecting and loving her. The friendly smile that she graced us with once in a while, her scoldings full of love, and her talks and advice about life, are just a few of the hundreds of things that we are going to miss about her.

She was more than just a teacher to us…she was our friend, philosopher and guide in her own way.

She said that the school will find a better and more capable poetry teacher. But we can't even begin to imagine that. To us, she is THE best poetry teacher. She said that our outburst of emotion at her leaving was momentary and that we would get over it soon. Whether we get over it or not, we will always feel the same way about her. We will always remember her as the lady who taught us the poetry of life, the lady who was dedicated to her work, the lady who made her sarees look good, the lady who always had a good-hair-day with her nose-ring at just the right spot.

But as they say, all good things must come to an end. Though all of us knew that parting was imminent, we always pictured it to be us who would be leaving her. But the Almighty had other plans and it was her leaving us. Another thing that, the earlier mentioned, they say is that "Distance makes the heart grow fonder". Turns out that they really know what they are talking about; because we really miss her.

All we have left are a thousand unforgettable memories and her blessings. Parting came sooner than expected, but all the same, we all hope that she enjoys her life after school, keeps good health and that God blesses her with His choicest blessings…Our dear Poetry Teacher…our dearest LT.

Ahem...

Ankahi paheli hoon mein,
Koshish na karo mujhe suljhaane ki.
Bhool bhulaiyen mai phas jaaoge,
Umeed na karo baahar aane ki.


Yippppeeee! My first Hindi thing! Thank you!Thank you!

Exagerrated? No, the me doesn't think so. If you do, then...I don't really care.

Quick Tip.

The next time you blow your birthday cake candle or see a shooting star in the sky or blow a fallen eyelash off the back of your palm, wish for something worthwhile like 'bring about world peace and communal harmony' or 'find a cure for AIDS' or 'stop global warming' or 'let Bush not be re-elected'. At least then, you will know for sure that the wish failed due to reasons beyond your control and not because you did something wrong. Better yet, don't make wishes. Your wishes won't fail if you didn't make any in the first place. Consequently, no hopes crushed.

Silver Lining II

Do you hear that?
No? Listen carefully.
There, that is the sound of deceit.
What about now?
Yes,the shattering of hopes, breaking of dreams.

The cause?
It.
It came, stayed, left.
No reasons, just excuses,
Leaving behind an empty space, a hole.

The cloud was dark, stormy.
When it left, things much more meaningful filled the hole.
The knowledge of what's important, what's not,
The wisdom of what's real, what's fake,
The difference between what's permanent, what's temporary,
The value of promises made, words said,
The determination to improve, to excel.
Amazing, isn't it?
After all, Experience is the best teacher.

Is this what they call the silver lining?
Must be.
The cloud has gone into non-existence, a faint memory,
And the lining has wiped away the streaks that it left.