Tag: thoughts

For Now

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

There is not much that can be said
Between two hearts that lie in three,
For now, on some quiet and warm bed,
The sky seems as quiet as quiet can be.

Each heart passion roams intertwined,
Every hope resurrects fresh and wild;
Tears, for the time, stay far declined,
And all of love rests supinely beguiled.

The need for more, for the time, is silent;
Orgasms are all but forgotten now;
Arms lie filled, anxiety lies spent,
The future seems like it was begotten now.

The story of the sky is just beginning.
The dawn too, for now, has been stilled.
Eyes are sated and are drowsily singing.
Everything empty, for now, has been filled.

Where the lost things go

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

Mary Poppins was a wonderful movie. It took me to a place where the lost things go. It reminded me of why I was called Peter Pan by a friend so many years ago.

In the middle of life, I grew up somewhere, some time, and I lost perspective of the things that mattered.

Friends and siblings have grown up. The conundrum is that I look for independence and maturity in people I choose to build bonds with. I look down upon the ones who don’t think, who hope extensively. But I’ve also realized, especially when faced with people who are alien to emotion and responses based on the heart, I do not think that they will be happy in life.

I set a lot of score in things that have no real tangible source of happiness. A good wad of cash gets good things that are wanted, tangible, things that can be touched and – perhaps even loved. But these things, along with the cash, do not really matter, in the end. We are human beings – unfortunately – and we need love and we need the succour provided by the Other.

Death becomes final, if there is no love. Memory makes the person immortal. Experience and history are what carries you into the future, into existence forever. The poets and the writers and the painters tried to capture this into art and transcribe it into the tangible. I have known people who have moved away from sensibility and into sense, but I have also seen them despondent and eventually, I have seen them float into the sphere of feeling, sometimes unwittingly, sometimes deliberately and sometimes, fighting tooth and nail.

I have seen how sense takes flight and sensibility takes over, with a vengeance. It is almost as if she wants to wreck love with a violence. She seeks to punish, and she feels it is right as is her wont. But I have dealt with emotion my entire life. I grow weary of her. Sense has come to me while sensibility has been told to wait in the corner. I haven’t discarded her. I just wanted to talk a bit with her sister. It is as Mary Poppins says, it is the time between the dark and light. And sensibility hides quietly.

Some people I loved died, and some, tragically, have grown up. Yes. These elite have no need now of sensibility. They haven’t just taken a break from her… or so they like to think. They wish to do without her. They wish to draw boundaries. They wish for rules. Lines. Space. Independence. Finding themselves. But they do not realise that sense isn’t the only thing that will lead them to peace and fruition.

I know that when my child died in the middle of my home, she left for good. The floor she lay on is just a floor. The home she breathed her last is just a house. Sense asks me to know that death is final. Dreams are dreams and fears are unfounded. But somewhere from the dark within, sensibility whispers, gone but not forgotten. Trust, she says. Love, she reminds. And I turn to the dark, searching for the place where the lost things go. And I trust and I love and find her in me – sitting right next to Peter.

Moonlight

Published on by Harpreet ChhachhiaLeave a comment

In moonlight, black boys look blue. The moon and being blue, surreal and vibrant. I watched the movie with trepidation, I thought like most movies dealing with homosexuality, the end would be tragic. But it’s actually beautiful. Breath-taking almost.

My favoured colour tones permeate the tone of the movie. Blue, white and black. The movie divides into three.

i. Little – the hounding of a boy thought to be different. The lack of a father figure, and soon, the lack of maternal love. The bullying of other children, because children are instinctual, they sense differences, but most are also doubly cruel because they can. No love forthcoming from the mother who also cannot face with the conclusion she has drawn about her son’s sexuality. She plunges into drugs – and the only consolation Little derives is from, ironically, a drug dealer and his partner.

ii. Chiron – teen years, filled with angst, because the bullying has only got worse. In a world filled with hypermasculinity, Chiron has no recourse but to hide away. The one who should be protecting him, has thrown him into the wild, bereft and alone. The night he spends haunting the metro and the beach because he cannot return home is so tragic that it makes your heart crumple inward. The only hope he receives is from his childhood friend, Kevin. That hope is short-lived and ends in disaster.

iii. Black – a grown man now, embodying that same masculinity that he used to run away from. The sensitivity of Little and Chiron finds its way in nuances of Black. The character has evolved and yet the silver on the teeth is just a façade.

The movie touches each theme so delicately, it’s almost as though it was moonlight itself. Silvery and effervescent. The starkness of reality hits you with such force like the sun shooting directly into your eyes, before the dark envelopes you again. The night provides a respite, whenever we see the character go through the experiences that make him better, we see them happen at night. It is only under moonlight that we see the beauty.

Ashton Sanders is spectacular, as is Naomie Harris. James Laxton has done a wonderful job with cinematography, you feel the emotions through the camera almost as much through the actors.

The world is of a black boy, a black teenager and a black man – but the themes of drug abuse, neglect, imprisonment, poverty, abandonment and bullying are so prevalent that the movie can speak to its audience on any level. The cinematography is brilliant, the dept of fields used create a singular focus on the character presented – the world is myopic and seen through each individual lens. It brings down the larger vision to the inevitability of fate. But pathos is presented in such a fantastic aura of dappled light that makes you understand how poetry is created. Even the ice water used as a cold transition cannot truly wash away the goodness within Chiron. And that is what makes you root for him.