Category: Random

My Past, Myself, Random, Ziba

Music

Sanjay Sabarwal
Anokha – Soundz of the Asian Underground
Anokha – Soundz of the Asian Underground (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

These past few weeks, I have started to delve into my playlists again, and realized that I have become stagnant.  Each playlist is a compilation of the same songs as well some new albums that I thought were interesting.  My playlists are the height of my laziness. I no longer hand-pick the songs. Instead, I am content believing others that this is relevant music.  Worse, I have even tried to convince myself, yet the playlists have become dustbins of music that I wish I liked but don’t really.  Just like me to rationalize that all recommended music is something I want to listen to.

Are they all bad?  Of course not! It’s my lack of willingness to sit through music so I can fall in love with it. Instead, I rather cursorily go through it, and added them nonchalantly.  So there the music has languished and so has my willingness to engage with it. In the process, I completely stopped listening to music.  Period.  I didn’t quite miss it till much recently as I began writing. I felt something was missing.  Music has always been my soundtrack, the thing in the back that goads me to keep punching these keys. It takes me on flights of fancies, and remembrances. Listening to some of the original playlists, I see how each track meant something to me, a bookmark for a particular person, time, or event.  Some had instrumentation that shook me like A.R Rahman‘s theme music for the movie “Bombay” while others like Talvin Singh‘s “Jaan” featuring the ethereal voice of Amar hit into my soul.  Each song had personal meaning or connection.  They were friends.  They were there when I needed them.  Yet. I had abandoned them so thoughtlessly. So now I am back on Spotify, You Tube, Podcasts, looking for music that will feed me.  That will make me dance across this page, keep me sustained as well as entertained.

A tad romanticized? Of course, what would music be if we didn’t add our own meaning to it?

Jaan By Talvin Singh Featuring Amar

Kehnde Ne Naina- Devika (Reshma Cover)

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Indian

Sanjay Sabarwal
shalimar the clown
shalimar the clown (Photo credit: dltq)

 

Cover of "Bombay Time: A Novel"
Cover of Bombay Time: A Novel

 

Cover of "Junglee Girl"
Cover of Junglee Girl

 

 

I still cannot believe the words that come up on this screen.  My cup of tea steams, waiting for me to drink it down.  The dog watching my every move, believing any second now I will take her for walk.  The quietness of the morning, interrupted only by rare passing cars or the random barks of dogs who think they can take on the cars, seems loud.  The hardness of the chair I am sitting on, digging into my butt deeper and deeper as if looking for something inside me, makes me realize how much effort it takes to put on these tiny words onto this screen.

 

The remnants of a dream come to me just now. An old couple I am visiting insist I take the 2 books I was admiring in their library. I don’t know who they are, but I confidently tell them to feel free to come borrow anything from mine. I also brag that mine is bigger (Freud anyone).  At that, I look around and see what I have.  There’s Bharati Mukherjee‘s The Holder of the World right next to by Bombay Time by Thrity Umrigar.  Then there is Junglee Girl by Ginu Kamani, overwhelming Love from Punjab by someone named Dhillon. My Indian collection is a source of pride for me.  I used to visit the book store, and look for any Indian authors because I believed it was important to have them in my library.  I don’t know when my enthusiasm waned, or when I stopped buying any books.  Perhaps it happened when I realized that I had more more than I could possibly read in 6 months or maybe it came when I look at the titles, and most of their stories don’t come to me.  Lately, my memory is not what it used to be.  It is a fact that I am painfully aware of, and makes me want to reread all the books in my library especially the Indian ones.  Salman Rushdie‘s Shalimar the Clown beckons me, and does the anthology Our Feet Walk the Sky. But then I realize it’s not just about the Indians, it’s about all the words that surround me.  They all are staring at me, almost wishing for me to create my own. Silence…

 

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Myself, Random, Writing

Prison

Sanjay Sabarwal
English: Writing «Shit_happens»
English: Writing «Shit_happens» (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Words escape me.  I am like the prison where I can’t hold them captive.  Instead, I am constantly on a state-wide hunt to be able to say something.  Yet, I know that’s not true exactly either. I hold one big prisoner: Fear.  And in the interrogation room, I question FAITH and BELIEF.  I don’t know if I have the actual ability to write more than a few pithy blog posts, and maybe by some luck, a short story.  So I sit here on this hard chair in my library surrounded by words of others, waiting for inspiration. But if I am being honest, maybe I am just praying for talent, or maybe I am asking someone out there to get me started.

Either way. I sit here yet again posting about not writing, but hey that’s considered writing, right?  What is it they say, if you want to write, write!  So here I am pushing out words like dry turds, hoping that at some point I can make real shit. OKDOGA, maybe not shit shit, but more like something that is more than just empty words.  Yet, I also know that’s not what the real battle is about.  Part of writing is being truthful to yourself, and others, but I am not ready to share what is inside me.  I am afraid. I am not ready.  So I sit here alone, wondering what is it that I want to do with myself. Now that’s a question, I have struggled with all my life. Even at 41, I still don’t know what to do. I don’t mean to suggest I am unemployed, but more that I am uninspired.  A lot of things intrigue me, but nothing has come forth that has taken me prisoner.  I am free in the worst way possible.  I want to be imprisoned, but nothing is holding me back.  Not yet anyway.  Here’s to hoping, that someday I will be free…

Myself, Random

No Longer Alone: A Blog Post

Sanjay Sabarwal
Love Problems and Advice Illustrated SA
Image via Wikipedia

Sitting in the quietness of the day, I now know that I am not alone anymore.  Prior days, weeks, months that were spent alone are now shared with someone I love deeply.  It’s an intense feeling, shimmering over my thoughts briefly, sprinkling my days with a deep longing for the one gone temporarily. I no longer have an emptiness in my soul or the need to fill myself with temporary distractions just so I feel as if I am alive.  Looking around my friends, I see some who are alone, who are going through the same struggle as I did when no one could fill the void in their soul.  Sure, we all have false starts and even perhaps some slight promise of one or two who may be the one, but deep in our hearts we already know that is not true.  As someone with several failed relationships, I am well aware that more times than not, we breathe life and personalities into people just because on the surface they seem so right with us.  In a way, we try to force upon ourselves and the person, who they SHOULD be rather who they ARE.

Yet, I also know the hard truth that this battle is theirs alone, and the only thing we can do is to love them as our own and be there when they ask for us.  You cannot force yourself upon anyone, no matter how great your intentions.  That’s a hard lesson for me, as my instinct is to always jump in to help.  But just like with success, a friendship or a relationship  can only move forward when we accept who we are and stop trying to change the one we want them to.

Of course, nothing I am saying is new or even perhaps original, just that it’s funny how all of us at one time or another go through the same experience, but really just fail to realize that there is always someone who has gone through exactly the same thing.  My point?  Look around you, and you will always find the support, love and kindness you need.  You just have to believe that you are NOT alone…

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Myself, Random

Drowning/Overwhelmed/Liar

Sanjay Sabarwal
by Jemal Y

This picture perfectly describes my feelings these past few months.   I cannot breathe due to the hypocrisy surrounding me nor can I rely on the friends I thought I had.  I cannot save people from their mistakes nor can I  can trust them when they lie to me about them.  I cannot be the perfect boyfriend or always present.  I cant, I won’t get it right, I know that but still I keep trying to move forward, to keep moving so I don’t drown in the despair of sorrow and helplessness.  Gotta avoid the tears, the realization that our lives are no longer headed on the paths we had planned on, no! counted on.

I wish I knew where to start. Perhaps shake the one that cheated or the one that got cheated on and then lied to me about ending it.  Or do I  shake the one with a selfish boyfriend who couldn’t even call or text his cousin while she battles the big C but has time to meet his girlfriend or yell at someone’s family because I am overwhelmed and feel utterly alone and helpless?  How many people do I stop talking to?  I realize that everyone’s an adult and the problem isnt them but me.  I am drowning myself.

Because the truth is, I am sick of people, their lies, their insecurities, their willingness to be fake or care when they only really only care about themselves.  Sick of being around people who say they are there but in reality are only there because it seems the right thing to say but not do.

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