Friday, January 22, 2010

Inspiration

It's ironic that the recent Aman-ki Aasha campaign is coupled with the news of IPL teams abandoning Pakistani Players. It is also ironic that Iqbal (aka Allama Iqbal), who wrote Saare jahan se achcha hindustan hamara, was a key influence in Jinnah's decision for demanding a separate Muslim state. Seeking commonality in the two ironies, one of Iqbal's works, popularized by Junoon's song 'Khudi ko Kar', inspires me like nothing else:

Khudi(Self) ko kar buland(mighty) itna
ke har taqdeer
(fate) se pehle
Khuda
bandey(person) se khud pooche
Bata teri raza
(agreement/wish) kya hai

Tu shaheen
(Royal falcon) hai, Parvaz(flight) hai kam tera, kam tera
Tere samne Aasman aur bhi hain
Tu shaheen he Basera
(dwell) kar
Pahadon
(mountains) ki chattanon(rocks) par
Tu shaheen hai tu Shaheen hai tu shaheen hai
Song available here.

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Passing out

Reflecting on what seem to be the last few days of my student life, I can't help seeing patterns from my past experiences of passing out of college.

Be it undergrad or postgrad, it's always the same. College seems to be a lot more dearer. All the things that you hated about your hostel are exactly what you can't stop raving about to your friends outside. Women seem prettier. Girls of the senior batch suddenly adopt straightened hair in a bid to pass out 'unsingled', while senior guys seem more keen on bagging a junior girlfriend.

Careers are discussed and so are failures. Failure of systems, aspirations and interviews. Parallels are drawn with peer institutes and faculty is dissected and blamed for. Reasons for education are questioned with a few interjections from reasons for existence. All this over experimental experiences of alcohol and other substances. And in this elevated state, resolutions are made: of a life that will be led the way it should be lived.

Getaways are planned with friends that have survived, singing antakshiri en route to boring destinations that never really were. The journey is all that will be remembered. And before you even begin to read all these patterns, your time runs out. Faster than you ever imagined. Damn I'll miss this place.