We are touched in a unique way, by the voices of support that have poured in from other cities dotted under other skies that envelope planet Earth. Thank you.
I am numbed by what i see on TV. Still. I go about my motions with a stoical face and a constructed facade. A multitude of emotions engulf me. And i want to write. But just as i begin, my keyboard seems to have a strange glue on it, and fingers don’t move.
I have been sitting here for about two hours now. Staring a vague and empty stare into the computer screen. The screen saver, like an opportune politician who shows up when there is nothing else to the screen, has least impact today.
My grief seeps through. The innocence of the lives lost best matched by the valour of the sacrifice. The spirit of revelry that is the usual scene at this geography, matched only by the grim canter of duty.
The sun has set here. The heart is heavy. The throat is constricted. The voice refuses to escape the lips. The nails are chewed off. The head is a trifle heavy. I occasionally get up and switch on the TV to see the odd commando fire. I quickly get back to staring at the computer screen.
Yes. As i wrote earlier, We will get them. All of them. In the days to come. But, that, will be, ‘in the days to come’. For, today, allow me to mourn the loss of life. To grieve. Let the residues emerge. Let my tears flow from my eyes. And perhaps from my soul.
Give me your shoulder.
Will you ?
Blowin’ In The Wind
How many roads must a man walk down
Before you call him a man?
Yes, ‘n’ how many seas must a white dove sail
Before she sleeps in the sand?
Yes, ‘n’ how many times must the cannon balls fly
Before they’re forever banned?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind,
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.
How many times must a man look up
Before he can see the sky?
Yes, ‘n’ how many ears must one man have
Before he can hear people cry?
Yes, ‘n’ how many deaths will it take till he knows
That too many people have died?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind,
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.
How many years can a mountain exist
Before it’s washed to the sea?
Yes, ‘n’ how many years can some people exist
Before they’re allowed to be free?
Yes, ‘n’ how many times can a man turn his head,
Pretending he just doesn’t see?
The answer, my friend, is blowin’ in the wind,
The answer is blowin’ in the wind.
Your post truly portraits the sense and pain of our co-people in Mumbai! Its realization that only can.
Kavi,
Great post! Posts, actually and spot on..
Unmistakably there is a collective need to do something. What we may lose or have lost in attacks like these are far too precious to left to someone else to take care of on our behalf. Yes, there is a collective need to do something. What? is the question. Middle class folks like us fight far too many battles in the course of our existence.
Spare a thought for our children. My pre-teen son has been depressed over the past couple of days after watching the unfolding events. He understands some, and some he doesn’t. He cannot rationalise like us adults. Both a boon and a curse! I am sure many parents share my angst.
funny you are taking solace in Dylan at the same time!
soon you will be listenting to opening lines of Positively 4th street and looking at the USA..
hope that doesn’t happen.
🙂
Kavi,
Late Hemant Karkare, Gajendra Singh, Vijay Salaskar and Unnikrishnan and some unknown but immortal ones have been consigned to flames. The residual ashes, which the Holy Ganges will readily accept, beckons all of us to be unreasonable with ourselves, and come out of our stupor.
Let us start, you and me, start something like a yahoo group, your friends and my friends and their friends, seek suggestions/opinions and act.
Let’s not miss the bus this time. Can we say we will do this before 15th December,2008?
Iyer
in the face of tremendous fear, we are united because we are stronger. god bless india.
Kavi,
Have read your other comments and must say that if you ever left India the US would be lucky to get you…
I still can’t stop shaking my head about all of this, as if I can shake an understanding loose. A lot of the US is talking about what has happened — there was even a lively discussion last night at “Misfit Thanksgiving” last night at my house.
You and your countrymen remain in my thoughts and my heart. The boundaries are discretionary. The distances smaller every year. We are human beings, and we are more alike than we are different.
Pearl
kavi,
when words fail, sometimes music succeeds. Maybe this ….
Crying endlessly…
Its so painful to watch all those news.
grief has a strange way of uniting people…like i said it before on Ghosty’s blog, “we are all together in this.”
*hugs and prayers…