Sunday, 11 October 2015

Environmentalist and his Claustrophobic Enlightenment.


Environmentalist and his Claustrophobic Enlightenment. 

I had no idea about the whereabouts of the place I was located,  all I could hear was a hell out of a noise surrounding me. It was pathetic, all of a sudden,  I realised the fact that I was claustrophobic.
                                             
It was a deep old cave and I had no hopes to bring my arse out from the old rock.
My sub conscious all of a sudden was busy about my last trip to Coorg where I had some paranormal experiences. My heart skipped a beat; However, I was mentally prepared that I had to spend my last hours in this No - man's cave.
In the darkest place where I was located,  a lighter and a dead phone was my only pals. It almost took 4-5 hours to console myself. May be,  a little bit of silence could have braved me, but I had no other option than listening to the nature's songs.
Being a environmentalist and a mountaineer, all my life I spent myself interacting with the mother nature. However,  this was my first experience in the last 15 years of my journey. I guess the she wasn't happy with my way of interaction or my behaviour with her. Maybe thinking in that way would be wrong, but I felt my assumption actually made some sense.
In fact,  I had indeed made this assumptions present in my thesis as well.
I felt constant deforestation and global warming would be a reason for the nature's anger and the human beings had to pay a very big price for all these blunders. Maybe that's how their fate shouts . Never in my life I had imagined myself getting lost in a cave and witnessing the nature's wrath.
But as they say, Everything might be written or well planned.

©  Written by Vishal Aryan Komara

Saturday, 11 April 2015

Parallel Pillars.

A dream woke me up in the midst of a silent night , It was a jaw dropping moment when I found a hot chilli in my brief. Moreover,  swear on God,  it wasn't a peaceful nap.

This power nap was highly mandatory as we had a plan of partying from the beginning of the dawn.

It was a lustrous evening due to the party vibes,  there was only one mirror in the room and girls had a tough time.

Girls - 'It's party time', my friend blurted out at the girls as they were getting late.

This time,  I had met some intriguing personalities in Goa. One of them was Jack More. He was a cool dude,  however it wasn't shocking to find a South African in a party land.

The moment we got our arse on the floor,  we felt alone in the party. There were hardly any freaks in the floor. It was this moment,  where we met Jack .

Jack was from Johannesburg,  but his ancestors were originated from the Indian sub continent.

THE REALISTIC CONVERSATION.

It was a lame evening and even jack accompanied us for the party.
5 - pegs down and the topic directly knocked the door of passion.

I always wanted to be a

Thursday, 9 April 2015

GOA!

A Trip to Goa!

Goa is the one she clearly said,
I never imagined,  there would be a lot of smiles ahead.

Sure was I,  to pack my bags, 
Ready for the trip which would be full of gags.

Nearer to the city , I could smell the fish
It was goa and I could do whatever I wish.

Grazing the grass between the whisky session, 
It was more or less like a turbulent lesson.

Found some chicks who were really hot, 
But, Rajalakshmi was the one who topped in the lot.

While, Dancing with the beat made me high, Smoking up the weed broke my thigh.

Met some new people to have the fun, 
Got some enlightenment back in return.

Earned some pals during the wonderful expedition,
After all, eagerly waiting for the next excursion.

All rights reserved.
© Written by Vishal Aryan Komara.

Tuesday, 24 March 2015

THE ART WHICH DEFINED EVERYTHING

THE PAINTING SPOKE

It was a lame evening and I had gained nothing watching the boring interview of Mr. Sodium Gandhi. So, I had to pick a new resolution for the day and it was shopping. It’s been years I’ve bought a painting for my room. Being a writer, I knew that even buying a painting is nothing but an art.  Patience again was a show – steal-er here.
I was looking for a unique portrait in the art gallery. It was a hectic task. It felt as if you are in a room filled with beautiful lasses and you have to select a perfect match out of it. However, for me the process was not that tardy, though I could manage a fast glance at few artworks.
The gallery contained almost all kinds of paintings; it even included a portrait of Osama wearing a sari, which was quite enough for a chuckle.

THE “SWEPT OFF MY FEET” FEELING

After a 500 feet – journey, I had come cross an  unique oil art. The artist had his signature written as anonymous. Then I realized, a true artist does not explore for fame, but does it for himself.
The painting was as simple as possible; it was set up in a sultry desert. There were four oldies sitting on the courtyard of their house and peacefully sharing a hookah. On the other hand, there was a camel feeding its baby calf and a beautiful damsel carrying a bag filled with grass.
It was more than enough for a buy and I came back home wrapping the masterpiece.

THE ORTHODOX REACTION

I was desperate to show the masterpiece to my father. Even he had some inclination towards art, but it had an orthodox angle.
The moment I came home, he wasn’t surprised. However, he didn’t wanted me to hang another portrait on my wall, which already boasted of a few. And when I finally showed him, he threw me a vexed look. My dad was an ardent follower of RSS, but he was not a hypocrite. He was not happy about my decision.
Only then, I realized, why he was blurting out at me. The painting contained some sheikhs and he was not happy about it. I was numb for a moment. I was at the gallery for almost four – hours and I myself could not see the Muslims in them, as I was an artist myself.
I didn’t want  to create a havoc , so I silently walked back to my room carrying a message for myself and on the other hand I realized, I was a true artist.
A TRUE ARTIST HAS TO BE BLIND WITH HIS EYES AND KEEP HIS HEART OPEN“. Sounds a bit colloquial, but that is a ‘BITTER FACT’.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

© Written by VISHAL ARYAN KOMARA.



Monday, 23 March 2015

EVEN A REHAB COULDN'T HELP HIM , BUT THE GIRL DID.

THE HR’S VISIT TO A REHAB

Stress is something you can relate with your ex – girlfriend, the more you think about it, the more you get sophisticated. It is a never-ending process, unless you stop thinking about it.  However, it is quite monotonous to complete the task, knowing it would be a tardy process. Stress plays a standard role in every human’s life and the common criteria called – insecurity is the one big culprit, which leads to all this shit.
Moreover, being a HR Recruiter it has been ages I visited a rehab to kill my stress down, but my inner soul was not happy about my decision. However, there was a fortnight left for the financial year-end and I had no other choice left out in my pocket, so I ended up landing in a rehab cell.
The rehabilitation centre had conducted a crash course session for a week. I was glad that it would not kill my time.

THE REALISATION to the FINISH

First day session at a rehab was just some meditation programs. Though it was not an easy task to do, I was away from my insomniac sessions after a very long time.  I found another section in the same place, which is for the kids who fall into the prey of the early health disorders.
It was this time; I met Ananya, a 9 – year old kid, who was suffering from Alzheimer’s disease. The fate played an antagonist in her life. I was wondering; how could a girl who is just in her childhood can face a challenge like this?
I could not control myself even for a moment. Without a second thought, I walked towards her and wanted to have a small conversation.

Hi Ananya, this is Vishal.
Hello Sir.  
You know why you are here.
Of course.  My parents could not bear me for long, so they threw me in this rehab. Moreover, thinking from their perspective, they were right. How could they manage a child who does not even remember their parents? (The girl laughs).
I was shocked for a moment. I had nothing to speak. It was a numb feeling with goose bumps all over my body.
So you do not feel like seeing your parents.
Yes I do. However, even if they visit me, I should at least be in a situation to remember them, which is again beyond the bounds of possibility.
Do you feel lonely sometimes? On the other hand, do you feel depressed?
Depressed for what? You guys should feel lonely on the other hand, not me. Having everything in life, you guys come here for getting treated for illogical reasons. I don’t get that. And by the way, why should I feel lonely, I should actually thank the supreme who’s given me this fantastic life. I’m one among those trillion people out there who’s born gifted. No egos, No envy. I have all the freedom to live life king size.
I had another 5 days left out in my calendar for the rehab’s crash course session. However, now I don’t think it’s worthy enough. The 9 – year old girl had a maturity of a 90 – year old woman. She had seen nothing, but had carried the optimistic loaf all her life.
Knowing that, I do not deserve a moment with a girl of this great stature, I just gave her a final bow and walked away to my home carrying a heavy message.

All Rights Reserved.

© Written By Vishal Aryan Komara.




















Saturday, 21 March 2015

The True Warmth!

The True Warmth – The Poem

When I saw her for the very first time,
Love at first sight was not at all a crime.

It took some days to get to know,
Then, it was Love, which started to flow.

She said, this is not the time for the sparks to fly,
Adamant was I, for which my heart couldn't deny.

Silence played at the sorrowful situation,
Exams intervened during the invalid condition.

The journey repeated again,
However, my efforts went all in vain.

Slow and steadily, the flower started to blossom,
In addition, I was glad that, the time has finally come.

Days passed without my knowledge,
And the flower had something to acknowledge.

Doubts she had, on my love,
Assuming that, I would leave her for now.

Infatuation was not my pal,
Being true to her was my final call.

No matter how much she bloat,
I am confident that my love shall float.

Confused was she, to choose upon two things,
Career and love, were the indecisive rings.

She wanted some time to think about the future,
Worried was I, thinking that my love would rupture.

The unfortunate day knocked my door,
She left me alone in the floor.

Years passed, she came back soon,
A question, popping from her phone.

Committed was she, this time,
Is being physical with a flower a crime?

I told her, that is a part of love’s journey,
However, I did not go behind for that luxury.

I know, it is difficult to understand the essence of my LOVE,
I promise that, you will never experience this kind of LOVE.

Assuming, you would reach me one day,
After all this is what I can expect in my life every day.

© All rights Reserved.

Written By Vishal Aryan Komara.

Wednesday, 18 March 2015

The Unexpected!

THE SMOOTH MURDER

Last night was highly peaceful; wife was off to her native and no more snoring for the next two days. The 14-year-old whisky had a fresh taste and after the five – peg session, the painting on the wall made a lot of sense. There was this woman carrying a bucket of water-to-water the almost dead plant in the sultry desert.  
The deadline for the next project was a week ahead and I was a mile away from capturing those exotic birds in the early dawn. However, knowing my boss would fire me for the delay, I had already cracked an interview in some other ad – agency to be in the safe corner.

…. 5:15 am
     
The lake was just a furlong away from my lane and I was used to those early – morning walks with smokes. However, carrying those tripod and huge lens was a burden every dawn.
Shooting those rare species in the bone chilling weather was something highly challenging and at the same time, even patience mattered more. However, when you are dissolved in your passion, pain is a hardly a cake –walk.

…. 5:23 am
     Through the lens,

I seldom see old – aged people having morning walks in this kind of parks especially in these frigid winters.
However, this black coat dressed oldie was one among them. But that did not astonish me in any way possible. I pitied because he was born blind. He was dressed up in his black Raymond suit; I was wondering how an old man who is in his 80’s could can dress up in this attire that too for a morning walk.
He was lean and built up tall. My inner soul shouted curiosity and being a blind man, why should he strain himself at this age and that too in this cold weather. However, it was none of my business and I had to turn my landscape mode on, as it was getting late for the photo session.
When you are dissolved in your passion of doing something, the scenario would say – “Rome was built in a day”, the time flies. Because, every moment is a question mark.
….6:02 am
The Oblivion
I had to wind up today’s session as it was getting late to my office, I had to reach my client’s place by 7.30 and give the sample photographs.
On the way back home, when I was about to start my bike, I found this blind oldie again. However, this time, he had been accompanied with another stranger who helped him to cross the park to enter the other side of the lake. I thought of taking a picture of this and slowly the scene made me to shoot a video.
All of a sudden, I witnessed a jaw dropping moment in the very first time of my life. The blind man took out a thin blade from his white cane and stabbed multiple numbers of times in the stranger’s stomach; it was a traumatized moment. I did not know what to do, how to react. I simply started my vehicle, and went back home.
                                                                                                        …TO BE CONTINUED.

© Written by Vishal Aryan Komara