Random

What???… Its love – Musarat Ali

Image

Ambitious, resonant, arresting, divisive, overarching, pretentious, artistic, luminous, ethereal, perplexing, ecstatic, rapturous, impressionistic, transcendent, metaphysical. What?… its love.

Its elusive, many times effervescent. And uncertain in the continuum. Synonymous with life, conflicting with reality. What??? … its love.

But, its sturdily majestic. Its contemplative odyssey of emotions and fear. And a shape shifting poem, resembling life.

Its love.

It’s the most ancient mistake, that everyone makes.

Advertisements
Standard
Random

Rage – Musarat Ali

ImageThere are days when I mask myself into rage, out of pain. A constant pain. Of your wait. Of your surrounding. Of your aroma. Of your delicacy. Of your beauty.

In those days, I turn to oceans. Look at them with naked eyes. And grow a feeling of you holding my hand. Those oceans then rage into my eyes. My troubled eyes. My awaiting eyes.

And then those questions, those unanswerable questions. I drown in them. Carrying my own fault. With my own luck and your very soul. The depth grows every second till I touch the soil. And become a star. A dying star.

Standard
Random

To the wonder & beyond

Image

Greetings again from the darkness. Director Terrence Malick makes films that typically fall into the “love it or hate it” genre. He has a very loyal group of fans (of which I am one) who appreciate the unique mental and emotional ride that his projects provide. To say that his films are not accessible is understandable. His objective is to challenge you to access your own beliefs and thoughts, rather than the characters in his movies … they are simply the tools he uses.

Less than two years ago, I was struggling to put thoughts into words after watching Malick’s The Tree of Life. Now, in record time for him, he releases another film that is even more impressionistic … actually abstract is not too strong a description. The usual Malick elements are present – nature, uncomfortable relationships, minimal dialogue, breathtaking photography, and powerful music. Where The Tree of Life focused on Creation and Family, this latest takes on Love and Faith.

Water imagery is a frequent key as we see the personal relationship mimic the changing of the seasons. Neil (Ben Affleck), an American visiting Paris, meets and falls for Marina (Olga Kurylenko), a free-spirited local filled with light and energy. Their love affair moves to the stunning Mont Saint-Michel before settling in the drab plains of Bartlesville, Oklahoma.

It’s not surprising that the relationship suffers as the newness wears thin. The interesting part is how Malick presents it. We mostly witness bits and pieces … he shows us moments, not events. We easily see that Neil’s aloofness and sullen looks don’t jibe with Marina’s effervescence. When she returns to Paris, Neil easily falls in with an old flame played by Rachel McAdams. When she later accuses him of making what they had “nothing”, we all understand what she means … and why.

Image

While Neil is proving what a lost soul he is, we also meet Father Quintana (Javier Bardem). He has lost the light of his faith and is in full crisis mode, even as he attempts to console and guide Marina. There is no secret that much of this film is autobiographical and that Malick is working through wounds he still carries these many years later. As a movie-goer, there is little to be gained from Alleck’s disconnected character or from Kurylenko dancing in the rain. The real prize is awakening the thoughts and feelings many of us probably buried over the years to hide emotional pain. Malick seems to be saying that it’s OK to acknowledge your foundation, regardless of your ability to succeed in a socially acceptable manner.

If you prefer not to dig so deep emotionally, this is a beautiful film to look at – thanks to Director of Photograpy Emmanuel Lubezki (a frequent Malick collaborator), and listen to – a blended soundtrack with many notable pieces from various composers. While this will be remembered as Roger Ebert’s final movie review (he liked it very much), it will likely have very little appeal to the average movie watcher – and I’m confident that Terrence Malick is fine with that.

Standard
Random

Solitary, hope & you.

Imagey

In the late afternoons, when the yellows of the sunlight turns orange. When the venoms of loneliness baste the walls of my home. Far… beyond the skies, your shadow glows and dims. Far… beyond your shadow, there is a fog of my hope. Hope, that glows and dims. 

Now, that hope has turned grotesque. It’s dress has been befouled. It’s face has scars.

Or perhaps, it is about to die. It is about to betray me. And leave me in Solitary.

In the loneliness, that dark, afflictive loneliness. Another hope scares me. It scares me with its love. And makes way into my heart. Perhaps, I’ve forgotten to love.

In the loneliness, and in its venom  That old, unattractive hope distracts me. Confuses me. And the new hope fights for it’s survival, fights for my attention, fights to be owned. But it might betray. It might ruin my heart with it’s beauty and perfection. It may shrink the shroud of my honesty.

Or perhaps I don’t understand it clearly. Perhaps I underestimate it. Underestimate it’s significance. Undermine its power. Undervalue its love.

All these thoughts and many fill me up. Ask me someday and I’ll tell you about those. Ask me someday and I’ll tell you about my new hope.

Someday, should it ever come.

Standard
Poetry, Random

When the silence enfolds me..

20130426-220033.jpg
Out in the ocean, there is an island. Where dreams live. And in those dreams, hundreds of memories, thousands of conversations and millions of thoughts survive. They cherish the moments of happiness and live the eternal life. Life that is far beyond the laws, rules, norms, values and culture. There lives a single race. They speak a common language. The language of love.

There is no racism there. No gender inequality. No religion. No faith. No war. No crime. No time. No space.

When the silence enfolds me, I go there sometimes. To live my dream. To sense the purity within me. But I see there Him only. Him, the One. The eternal. Smiling.

Out in the space, where there is vacuum. Where there is dark matter. That no one can see. But He. The Creator.

When the silence enfolds me, I bow down to Him. And say You’re the greatest. He tells me then, to look within, there you’ll find me.

That island is inside me. I am the ocean.

Standard
Random

Castle of Moments

The last time we spoke, we discussed the moments we lived together in past. Those moments are perhaps the best treasures I have in my life. Every single moment of it.

The moment when I use to make you sit in front of me so I could write poetry on you, on your eternal beauty and lively smile. And the moment when I read it to you. With your eyes down, smiling but attentive. Treasure.

The moment when we walked together. Those long walks. When you hold my hand and told me how safe you felt while I’m around. That moment we both hoped, perhaps, that time should remain still and we could walk all we can. Treasure.

The moment when we travelled together. On those long routes. On those long distances. When we promised we’ll never be apart. Will always be together, till the end. Till the infinite. Treasure.

Countless moments with countless memories paved in them.

Now that you are not with me, those moments are the bricks that have made the castle I live in. And those memories are doors that have kept me locked into that place. The place that is full of treasures.

I am now that Greedy King, who is afraid, if he goes out of that place someone will steal those treasures. Someone will infringe them.

Yes, I will stay there forever. That is our place. Where no one else has right to be. But you and me.

Standard
Random

Be with me..

Image

When the night comes, when the dark, desolated, grieved night comes. Singing ballads of grief when the night comes. You be with me, in my arms. You be with me in my soul.

When the blood of skies drops on me and when it becomes ointment for my wounds. You be with me to till they heal, till this heart in my wounded chest comes alive. You be with me.

When this sadness comes, covering me in its dark cloak. You be with me till it vanishes.

But if you don’t.

That dark, desolated and grieved night will clasp me in its power and enslave my soul. Those wounds will stay unhealed. And this heart will remain waiting, waiting to be alive. Until you come and set me free again. Until the death comes knocking and until my bones turn dust.

Stay close. Stay with me. Until the death. Until the end.

Standard