Wednesday, May 7, 2014

After Math : Sonal and Rahul:Figments of imagination-Part 2

“I am sorry ,I don’t Love you,I never did.Even if I will love someone then that someone would never be you .”
A crippling pain made it impossible for her to move.
She had planned to gamble everything on one bold throw.To tell the truth and shame the devil.If that did not work,the future didn’t bear contemplating.
She stared at her surrounding through a haze of tears,seeing the beauty of the dark night,silence all around her!
Drawing in a pained breath,She turned away.”Except that  he never loved me,”she said coldly..There was nobody to listen to her though. Atleast acquit him of dishonesty,!Caveat emptor,she thought  .Let the buyer beware .That was exactly the case when she had gone into an affair with him.He had been honest ,everything else was done at h er own risk.She wasn’t a natural gambler.For that you had to be prepared to lose.But weren’t somethings worth the risk?She just didn’t know
For her their relationship had been a commitment,but for him not even a relationship .
She quivered thinking of the intensity of desire they had shared and wondered whether he also misses her or not? But then if he had he would have atleast  received her phone but like always he had just ignored Least bothered to acknowledge ,She had tried calling him “n” no. of times but he had been persistently avoiding her .Letting her feel insulted and low,not that she suffered from low self esteem,She was least dependent on anybody to make her feel inferior but God knows how his apathy hurt her …She had felt something that went beyond the normal carnal lust.She had felt a bonding ,a kind of connection with this particular man.An overwhelming need to know everything about and experience everything with this-this particular man.Somehow she she had always known that he could be vitally important to her .It was scray and exciting and had drawn her towards realms she would otherwise would have never dreamed of exploring.Her blood used to sing siren song caught up in an exciting new world when she used to lie without clothes on in his arms…
Yet while he wanted her with all passions he displayed,he didn’t want her love.Despair engulfed her.what on earth was she to do ?
In his arms she had been her true self and had known instinctively she could only ever be so with him.It had to be the cruelest of jokes,She hadn’t asked to feel this way,hadn’t known she was capable of this depth of emotion .Then to discover that how he abhorred her was bitter indeed
She had found herself with the choice she had never thought she would have to make.His terms left no rooms for bargaining and She had accepted that ..On offer she had an affair of passion but not of love and she loved him.To keep him,She had to deny it which she eventually ended up doing.But then how long could she have hidden the only true gift she had-Love.
Love to her had always meant marriage,family the whole thing yet she had locked that away in her heart and accepted only the affair!
An affair that lasted as long as he wanted her in his bed.Like the month of December when he throwed her out from his life and yes form his car ,She still remembered how vulnerable she had felt,how she had beseeched him,Still trying her best to get things back to the track despite of facing the physical violence again-not for the first time had he hit her but then Still she had tried..Hadn’t she ?
This time she had been honest,had been true but then it turned out fake.He failed to see her ,least respect her..She had tried calling him an hour ago but then when did he  pick her calls,he not only refused to meet her but accused her this time too,the only difference was it she knew that even deep down in his heart he also knew that She was not guilty not this time…….
The eerie silence of the night reminded her of the eternity of emtiness that she now had to face Well decided to face,She had come out bare foot while the whole houisehold slept.It was around two in the night,even the moon was sleepy she looked above in the sky..One tear slid slowly down her cheek.It was so much cold,February nights are so cold especially when you have been wounded and rejected.The only person you would want to speak to is ignoring your phone call..Her toes curled from the cold but then her pain had made the cold bearable,he was not here to warm her but how she longed for his wet kissed-for his hugs -for his probing tongue that evaded her mouth with searing sensuality,imitating the longing that started up an ache deep down inside her.Her sensitized breasts dying to come in  intimate contact of her hair roughened skin of his chest.She longed-She wished to arch into the delicious sensation,becoming wild creature in his arms shuddering at each new caress of his hands and lips on her body exulting as she would have felt him respod to her increasingly bold caress of his silken torso..
She glanced  at the phone in her hand,he wont even call back..Aah he never even bothered to hear her out –forget the call back..Wild awake in this hour she felt the chilling reality –faced the cold wind and wondered is that where they were destined to come to-to nowhere..He no longer ….she simply couldn’t believe.She had believed in him-believed in the love and trail of love that was a merging  of passion to reason..

It was turning to be a restless night again..While everyone slept including him or may be he would be busy somewhere else-who knows she thought venomously but for one thing which her heart constantly tugged her despite of everything it was faith..Have faith in Love-your Love ,yes he might or might not be busy –he might –might not be sleeping but nothing is permanent ,theres this tempoaral nature –attached to everything be it feeling ,be it feeling,she couldn’t prove anything She neednot but yes She had  faith..She had believed thought it was almost shattered but Still she had manged to held her head high and smile and listen to her heart and……guess its not a good idea to type when you are wearing just a night gown ,barefoot and all by yourself out in the night sitting in the garden even the plants sleep,watery moonlight is of no good and stars are next to invisible at this wee hour..Feets are turning blue due to cold and humming of mosquitoes is now only the audible sound..

Howard Roark's Courtroom Speech

Howard Roark's
Courtroom Speech
From The Fountainhead, by Ayn Rand

     “Thousands of years ago, the first man discovered how to make fire. He was probably burned at the stake he had taught his brothers to light. He was considered an evildoer who had dealt with a demon mankind dreaded. But thereafter men had fire to keep them warm, to cook their food, to light their caves. He had left them a gift they had not conceived and he had lifted dardness off the earth. Centuries later, the first man invented the wheel. He was probably torn on the rack he had taught his brothers to build. He was considered a transgressor who ventured into forbidden terrritory. But thereafter, men could travel past any horizon. He had left them a gift they had not conceived and he had opened the roads of the world.
     “That man, the unsubmissive and first, stands in the opening chapter of every legend mankind has recorded about its beginning. Prometheus was chained to a rock and torn by vultures—because he had stolen the fire of the gods. Adam was condemned to suffer—because he had eaten the fruit of the tree of knowledge. Whatever the legend, somewhere in the shadows of its memory mankind knew that its glory began with one and that that one paid for his courage.
     “Throughout the centuries there were men who took first steps down new roads armed with nothing but their own vision. Their goals differed, but they all had this in common: that the step was first, the road new, the vision unborrowed, and the response they received—hatred. The great creators—the thinkers, the artists, the scientists, the inventors—stood alone against the men of their time. Every great new thought was opposed. Every great new invention was denounced. The first motor was considered foolish. The airplane was considered impossible. The power loom was considered vicious. Anesthesia was considered sinful. But the men of unborrowed vision went ahead. They fought, they suffered and they paid. But they won.
     “No creator was prompted by a desire to serve his brothers, for his brothers rejected the gift he offered and that gift destroyed the slothful routine of their lives. His truth was his only motive. His own truth, and his own work to achieve it in his own way. A symphony, a book, an engine, a philosophy, an airplane or a building—that was his goal and his life. Not those who heard, read, operated, believed, flew or inhabited the thing he had created. The creation, not its users. The creation, not the benefits others derived from it. The creation which gave form to his truth. He held his truth above all things and against all men.
     “His vision, his strength, his courage came from his own spirit. A man's spirit, however, is his self. That entity which is his consciousness. To think, to feel, to judge, to act are functions of the ego.
     “The creators were not selfless. It is the whole secret of their power—that it was self-sufficient, self-motivated, self-generated. A first cause, a fount of energy, a life force, a Prime Mover. The creator served nothing and no one. He lived for himself.
     “And only by living for himself was he able to achieve the things which are the glory of mankind. Such is the nature of achievement.
     “Man cannot survive except through his mind. He comes on earth unarmed. His brain is his only weapon. Animals obtain food by force. Man has no claws, no fangs, no horns, no great strength of muscle. He must plant his food or hunt it. To plant, he needs a process of thought. To hunt, he needs weapons, and to make weapons—a process of thought. From this simplest necessity to the highest religious abstraction, from the wheel to the skyscraper, everything we are and everything we have comes from a single attribute of man—the function of his reasoning mind.
     “But the mind is an attribute of the individual. There is no such thing as a collective brain. There is no such thing as a collective thought. An agreement reached by a group of men is only a compromise or an average drawn upon many individual thoughts. It is a secondary consequence. The primary act—the process of reason—must be performed by each man alone. We can divide a meal among many men. We cannot digest it in a collective stomach. No man can use his lungs to breathe for another man. No man can use his brain to think for another. All the functions of body and spirit are private. They cannot be shared or transferred.
     “We inherit the products of the thought of other men. We inherit the wheel. We make a cart. The cart becomes an automobile. The automobile becomes an airplane. But all through the process what we receive from others is only the end product of their thinking. The moving force is the creative faculty which takes this product as material, uses it and originates the next step. This creative faculty cannot be given or received, shared or borrowed. It belongs to single, individual men. That which it creates is the property of the creator. Men learn from one another. But all learning is only the exchange of material. No man can give another the capacity to think. Yet that capacity is our only means of survival.
     “Nothing is given to man on earth. Everything he needs has to be produced. And here man faces his basic alternative: he can survive in only one of two ways—by the independent work of his own mind or as a parasite fed by the minds of others. The creator originates. The parasite borrows. The creator faces nature alone. The parasite faces nature through an intermediary.
     “The creator’s concern is the conquest of nature. The parasite’s concern is the conquest of men.
     “The creator lives for his work. He needs no other men. His primary goal is within himself. The parasite lives second-hand. He needs others. Others become his prime motive.
     “The basic need of the creator is independence. The reasoning mind cannot work under any form of compulsion. It cannot be curbed, sacrificed or subordinated to any consideration whatsoever. It demands total independence in function and in motive. To a creator, all relations with men are secondary.
     “The basic need of the second-hander is to secure his ties with men in order to be fed. He places relations first. He declares that man exists in order to serve others. He preaches altruism.
     “Altruism is the doctrine which demands that man live for others and place others above self.
     “No man can live for another. He cannot share his spirit just as he cannot share his body. But the second-hander has used altruism as a weapon of expoloitation and reversed the base of mankind’s moral principles. Men have been taught every precept that destroys the creator. Men have been taught dependence as a virtue.
     “The man who attemps to live for others is a dependent. He is a parasite in motive and makes parasites of those he serves. The relationship produces nothing but mutual corruption. It is impossible in concept. The nearest approach to it in reality—the man who lives to serve others—is the slave. If physical slavery is repulsive, how much more repulsive is the concept of servility of the spirit? The conquered slave has a vestige of honor. He has the merit of having resisted and of considering his condition evil. But the man who enslaves himself voluntarily in the name of love is the basest of creatures. He degrades the dignity of man and he degrades the conception of love. But this is the essence of altruism.
     “Men have been taught that the highest virtue is not to achieve, but to give. Yet one cannot give that which has not been created. Creation comes before distribution—or there will be nothing to distribute. The need of the creator comes before the need of any possible beneficiary. Yet we are taught to admire the second-hander who dispenses gifts he has not produced above the man who made the gifts possible. We praise an act of charity. We shrug at an act of achievement.
     “Men have been taught that their first concern is to relieve the sufferings of others. But suffering is a disease. Should one come upon it, one tries to give relief and assistance. To make that the highest test of virtue is to make suffering the most important part of life. Then man must wish to see others suffer—in order that he may be virtuous. Such is the nature of altruism. The creator is not concerned with disease, but with life. Yet the work of the creators has eliminated one form of disease after another, in man’s body and spirit, and brought more relief from suffering than any altruist could ever conceive.
     “Men have been taught that it is a virtue to agree with others. But the creator is the man who disagrees. Men have been taught that it is a virtue to swim with the current. But the creator is the man who goes against the current. Men have been taught that it is a virtue to stand together. But the creator is the man who stands alone.
     “Men have been taught that the ego is the synonym of evil, and selflessness the ideal of virtue. But the creator is the egotist in the absolute sense, and the selfless man is the one who does not think, feel, judge or act. These are functions of the self.
     “Here the basic reversal is most deadly. The issue has been perverted and man has been left no alternative—and no freedom. As poles of good and evil, he was offered two conceptions: egotism and altruism. Egotism was held to mean the sacrifice of others to self. Altruism—the sacrifice of self to others. This tied man irrevocably to other men and left him nothing but a choice of pain: his own pain borne for the sake of others or pain inflicted upon others for the sake of self. When it was added that man must find joy in self-immolation, the trap was closed. Man was forced to accept masochism as his ideal—under the threat that sadism was his only alternative. This was the greatest fraud ever perpetrated on mankind.
     “This was the device by which dependence and suffering were perpetuated as fundamentals of life.
     “The choice is not self-sacrifice or domination. The choice is independence or dependence. The code of the creator or the code of the second-hander. This is the basic issue. It rests upon the alternative of life or death. The code of the creator is built on the needs of the reasoning mind which allows man to survive. The code of the second-hander is built on the needs of a mind incapable of survival. All that which proceeds from man’s independent ego is good. All that which proceeds from man’s dependence upon men is evil.
     “The egotist is the absolute sense is not the man who sacrifices others. He is the man who stands above the need of using others in any manner. He does not function through them. He is not concerned with them in any primary matter. Not in his aim, not in his motive, not in his thinking, not in his desires, not in the source of his energy. He does not exist for any other man—and he asks no other man to exist for him. This is the only form of brotherhood and mutual respect possible between men.
     “Degrees of ability vary, but the basic principle remains the same: the degree of a man’s independence, initiative and personal love for his work determines his talent as a worker and his worth as a man. Independence is the only gauge of human virtue and value. What a man is and makes of himself; not what he has or hasn’t done for others. There is no substitute for personal dignity. There is no standard of personal dignity except independence.
     “In all proper relationships there is no sacrifice of anyone to anyone. An architect needs clients, but he does not subordinate his work to their wishes. They need him, but they do not order a house just to give him a commission. Men exchange their work by free, mutual consent to mutual advantage when their personal interests agree and they both desire the exchange. If they do not desire it, they are not forced to deal with each other. They seek further. This is the only possible form of relationship between equals. Anything else is a relation of slave to master, or victim to executioner.
     “No work is ever done collectively, by a majority decision. Every creative job is achieved under the guidance of a single individual thought. An architect requires a great many men to erect his building. But he does not ask them to vote on his design. They work together by free agreement and each is free in his proper function. An architect uses steel, glass, concrete, produced by others. But the materials remain just so much steel, glass and concrete until he touches them. What he does with them is his individual product and his individual property. This is the only pattern for proper co-operation among men.
     “The first right on earth is the right of the ego. Man’s first duty is to himself. His moral law is never to place his prime goal within the persons of others. His moral obligation is to do what he wishes, provided his wish does not depend primarily upon other men. This includes the whole sphere of his creative faculty, his thinking, his work. But it does not include the sphere of the gangster, the altruist and the dictator.
     “A man thinks and works alone. A man cannot rob, exploit or rule—alone. Robbery, exploitation and ruling presuppose victims. They imply dependence. They are the province of the second-hander.
     “Rulers of men are not egotists. They create nothing. They exist entirely through the persons of others. Their goal is in their subjects, in the activity of enslaving. They are as dependent as the beggar, the social worker and the bandit. The form of dependence does not matter.
     “But men were taught to regard second-handers—tyrants, emperors, dictators—as exponents of egotism. By this fraud they were made to destroy the ego, themselves and others. The purpose of the fraud was to destroy the creators. Or to harness them. Which is a synonym.
     “From the beginning of history, the two antagonists have stood face to face: the creator and the second-hander. When the first creator invented the wheel, the first second-hander responded. He invented altruism.
     “The creator—denied, opposed, persecuted, exploited—went on, moved forward and carried all humanity along on his energy. The second-hander contributed nothing to the process except the impediments. The contest has another name: the individual against the collective.
     “The ‘common good’ of a collective—a race, a class, a state—was the claim and justification of every tyranny ever established over men. Every major horror of history was committed in the name of an altruistic motive. Has any act of selfishness ever equaled the carnage perpetrated by disciples of altruism? Does the fault lie in men’s hypocrisy or in the nature of the principle? The most dreadful butchers were the most sincere. They believed in the perfect society reached through the guillotine and the firing squad. Nobody questioned their right to murder since they were murdering for an altruistic purpose. It was accepted that man must be sacrificed for other men. Actors change, but the course of the tragedy remains the same. A humanitarian who starts with declarations of love for mankind and ends with a sea of blood. It goes on and will go on so long as men believe that an action is good if it is unselfish. That permits the altruist to act and forces his victims to bear it. The leaders of collectivist movements ask nothing for themselves. But observe the results.
     “The only good which men can do to one another and the only statement of their proper relationship is—Hands off!
     “Now observe the results of a society built on the principle of individualism. This, our country. The noblest country in the history of men. The country of greatest achievement, greatest prosperity, greatest freedom. This country was not based on selfless service, sacrifice, renunciation or any precept of altruism. It was based on a man’s right to the pursuit of happiness. His own happiness. Not anyone else’s. A private, personal, selfish motive. Look at the results. Look into your own conscience.
     “It is an ancient conflict. Men have come close to the truth, but it was destroyed each time and one civilization fell after another. Civilization is the progress toward a society of privacy. The savage’s whole existence is public, ruled by the laws of his tribe. Civilization is the process of setting man free from men.
     “Now, in our age, collectivism, the rule of the second-hander and second-rater, the ancient monster, has broken loose and is running amuck. It has brought men to a level of intellectual indecency never equaled on earth. It has reached a scale of horror without precedent. It has poisoned every mind. It has swallowed most of Europe. It is engulfing our country.
     “I am an architect. I know what is to come by the principle on which it is built. We are approaching a world in which I cannot permit myself to live.
     “Now you know why I dynamited Cortlandt.
     “I designed Cortlandt. I gave it to you. I destroyed it.
     “I destroyed it because I did not choose to let it exist. It was a double monster. In form and in implication. I had to blast both. The form was mutilated by two second-handers who assumed the right to improve upon that which they had not made and could not equal. They were permitted to do it by the general implication that the altruistic purpose of the building superseded all rights and that I had no claim to stand against it.
     “I agreed to design Cortlandt for the purpose of seeing it erected as I dedigned it and for no other reason. That was the price I set for my work. I was not paid.
     “I do not blame Peter Keating. He was helpless. He had a contract with his employers. It was ignored. He had a promise that the structure he offered would be built as designed. The promise was broken. The love of a man for the integrity of his work and his right to preserve it are now considered a vague intangible and an inessential. You have heard the prosecutor say that. Why was the building disfigured? For no reason. Such acts never have any reason, unless it’s the vanity of some second-handers who feel they have a right to anyone’s property, spiritual or material. Who permitted them to do it? No particular man among the dozens in authority. No one cared to permit it or to stop it. No one was responsible. No one can be held to account. Such is the nature of all collective action.
     “I did not receive the payment I asked. But the owners of Cortlandt got what they needed from me. They wanted a scheme devised to build a structure as cheaply as possible. They found no one else who could do it to their satisfaction. I could and did. They took the benefit of my work and made me contribute it as a gift. But I am not an altruist. I do not contribute gifts of this nature.
     “It is said that I have destroyed the home of the destitute. It is forgotten that but for me the destitute could not have had this particular home. Those who were concerned with the poor had to come to me, who have never been concerned, in order to help the poor. It is believed that the poverty of the future tenants gave them the right to my work. That their need constituted a claim on my life. That it was my duty to contribute anything demanded of me. This is the second-hander’s credo now swallowing the world.
     “I came here to say that I do not recognize anyone’s right to one minute of my life. Nor to any part of my energy. Nor to any achievement of mine. No matter who makes the claim, how large their number or how great their need.
     “I wished to come here and say that I am a man who does not exist for others.
     “It had to be said. The world is perishing from an orgy of self-sacrificing.
     “I wished to come here and say that the integrity of a man’s creative work is of greater importance than any charitable endeavor. Those of you who do not understand this are the men who’re destroying the world.
     “I wished to come here and state my terms. I do not care to exist on any others.
     “I recognize no obligations toward men except one: to respect their freedom and to take no part in a slave society. To my country, I wish to give the ten years which I will spend in jail if my country exists no longer. I will spend them in memory and in gratitude for what my country has been. It will be my act of loyalty, my refusal to live or work in what has taken its place.
     “My act of loyalty to every creator who ever lived and was made to suffer by the force responsible for the Cortlandt I dynamited. To every tortured hour of loneliness, denial, frustration, abuse he was made to spend—and to the battles he won. To every creator whose name is known—and to every creator who lived, struggled and perished unrecognized before he could achieve. To every creator who was destroyed in body or in spirit. To Henry Cameron. To Steven Mallory. To a man who doesn’t want to be named, but who is sitting in this courtroom and knows that I am speaking of him.”

Sonal and Rahul:Figment of imaginations-Part 1

He left no footprints  In sand… no ripples in water …no image in mirrors……no foot prints on the shore..
Just SHIFT DELETED her from his life
 A weak watery moon filtered through the clouds and revealed a young girl sitting on the topmost of
Thirteen stone steps that led into the water..she was very still very a while rain slowed to a drizzle and then stopped the breeze shook water from the trees and for a while it rained only under trees Where shelter had once been….
It was past  midnight…the river had risen
Wet leaves in the trees shimmered..with moon’s light…
A liitle frightened of  what lurked in the shadows around her..As she lurched into the deep water..
A brief sunbeam ..
A small life ..
Quietness and emptiness…
He had held her against him…she had woken to the beats of his heart knocking against his chest
His arms around her she had felt protected..loved and secured..he successfully folded her fears into rose
He had gathered her into the cave of his body
He had been careful not to hurt her
She could feel how soft she felt to him……..
Even now…when she was about to end her existence…
Even now when any moment she could be swept inside where she would loose her living self…
She offered herself to the river…to be eaten by large fishes…to be drowned…

To be no more alive!!

P.S-This is part of a series which I am working on..story of breaking of a heart..shattering of dreams...

When I dance..

Dance when in distress,dance when in grief,dance when hurt and  dance when in love!to me dance is the divine form of worship.dancing not only is an extension of the soul within wherein it is also a means to achieve that inner is full of challenges these days,its not and downs are part of our daily routine hence few hours dedicated to accumulating energy especially joining the forces of the universe to attain bliss through dance for me is my way of coping with stress..

Indeed dance is a stress is food for the soul and fuel for the to me is my first is that feeling of surrendering to the universe so as to manifest all my desires ..
Dance not only enriches the life but it is responsible for bringing radical changes in my life..Who am I ? when I look at myself in the mirror I say it aloud I am a dancer..i am myself..those few hours daily is my escape to the world where I am me…its my individuality that speaks in the language of dance..its the creativity inside me that makes me follow the rhythm  ..there is music in the air..Universe speaks to us in the various forms be it sign or be it clear and aloud..
Everything we ever desire is already there present within reach for is one such medium to the ultimate realization of the law of abundance around us..there is plenty for all of us..whatever we attract comes to us and hence dance not only helps me to be positive but also exposes to me this  is that recreation which not only opens up the mind to all the possibilities but helps out in touching the inner most chord of our being thus making us aware of our own power..

Dancing has empowered me in lot many ways..making me aware of my own weaknesses and strength..acknowledging the sensuality,getting in touch with the female energy …

The best moments in my life has been those hours when I was on stage…dancing is a passion and my first love..i become alive when I dance..the hip swaying the feet moving all in all creating the t angible aura around..its a second haven for me..i find solace when I dance..i find answers when I dance..its a magic when I dance..its feeling complete when I dance!