Friday, June 22, 2012

The Sacrifice of love !!

  It was said : "When she danced, she was in trance, nothing could stop her, she was filled with romance".

  Dance was what she had begun with. Her flavor of life - Dance. Dance was what she had started to live with. Her mantra to success - Dance. It's uncanny how these five letters could be so cogent. To some souls, dance means the finest art and to some its void. I believe its all about perceptions, passion and depth. Her depth of ecstasy lied in the ghungroos and those waist belts. She had an urge to absorb various information's of dance, that positive aura of doing something from all the heart. However, attaining the vision wasn't that facile.

  Belonging to a Muslim household, Asfa was never consented to learn Classical Indian Dance. Her ami (mother) and abu (father) were against the Hindu localities. Their disbelief in the Hindu religion was firm. Asfa, had lived in Pakistan for more than a decade. So, she was informed of those values taught by her parents being a Muslim. Those restrictions and burns she had to go through, for glorifying the Indian Classical Dance.
We have always perceived and learnt that Muslim women associate themselves to a religion where they are required to cover their entire body when out in public, with the exception of the hands and face. The importance of Hijab, in the religion is followed to the core. Whereas, they are also expected to refrain from any actions that may draw any attention to them such as wearing jewellery, jingling ornaments and perfume. They are must to behave in the best of their behaviors and a dignified manner. 
Despite keeping this in mind, Asfa had her attention diverted to the form of dance, Kathak. It was a form of trance she used to get in, when a sound was heard, letting her feet move spontaneously; her hands clinging to the context of the harmony; her body being ambiguous, echoing the melody. 

   Asfa had grown up learning Kathak, the forms of that dance, the intensity of emotions it is performed with, clearing and cleansing the mind and soul. She had a thought to escape from the phony cosmos to the reality of her merriment. Asfa's ami used to gaze at her, practicing Kathak in her room, putting ghungroos on and losing herself to the eternity. For Asfa, dazing and musings were all at once in the form of Kathak. Her love for the particular dance never ceased.  

  Seeing this, her ami and abu had started being anxious for their daughter cultivating a Hindu mentality. It was hard for them to pause her, as she was close to chasing her dreams. Her passion for Kathak had grown succeeding day, making it compacted for her parents or any members of the society to confront her. Where Asfa's parents feared the society's ridicule and derision, Asfa was shining with a beam of light practicing every move in order to be a phenomenal Kathak artist. Her faith in her doing was concrete. Concrete than the slandering of the society upon her and her family. 

   Knowingly, Asfa had crossed the boundaries which were set and had devoted herself to Kathak. Living in Pakistan, had snatched the priceless beauty of hers, her parents who never permitted Asfa to soothe her inner self and opt for her choices. Asfa had felt that she was being slammered. After giving a deep pensive envision as to what she was supposed to do to chase Kathak, she came to a point that being in India would be the only way for her to rise higher in her ambitions and projections. Sooner or later, she had realised that the culture she was instructed in would however never grant her the liberty to do as per her wishes. The scorns of the community would still persist. 

   Pondering over that, Asfa had decided to abandon her country and fly to get the whole of what she was loving half way. Asfa, had flown to India, Bangalore, with an inkling that now she would be able to make an identity for herself establishing self satisfaction and atonement. Asfa, had made something toughest to be the easiest thing. The only thing which made it that smooth was mere efforts and her emotions with which she flew to India and took a personal training in Kathak in being a dancer. 
Living in India, had taught Asfa, a lot in life, it seemed like a different outlook to the world, while staying away from your own country and inventing another, in authentic moods and hues. She was termed as an Indian-Muslim 'devotee of dance'. Experiencing through distinct slopes, Asfa was turned to be a follower of Lord Krishna. Her faith and fortune had commenced with the blessings of the lord, or were never there behind her success. With this kind of notion and mindset, Asfa had eradicated all the religion ties. The difference between a Hindu-Muslim mentality with which she had lived, so her parents, had made her devise a new orbit which constituted of positive spirits. No malicious doings, nor the gains.. every quantity seemed unexacting.. easy..worth living. 

  Everything was later sorted out between her parents when she had planned a trip to Pakistan. This time, she had returned with the vibes of being a Kathak artist. She was content in all ways, and so was her family seeing her flourishing in every point of the circumstances.

         It was dance indeed which transported her into another world, away from the usual calms. She chased, she procured with pleasure and mirth, the relevance of joy. Echoing "An artist doesnt discriminate, nor did I. Therefore, I claim being an Artist".

© Latika Sareen
Protected by Copyscape DMCA Copyright Protection

Thursday, June 21, 2012

The Relevance of Joy !

           Whenever I get on stage to perform.. I get goosebumps.. Its like a never ending emotion. It seems that an ever lasting dream to give the best in public has come true.. However, it never stops.. the water still flows down the slope, moderately. The last time i performed was in December 011' amidst the crowd. Knowingly, unknowingly there was a crowd of more than 200 people and I was nervous like anything...

Despite that, i went on and gave my best.. There were rewards for the performers.. The certificates.. some best of the best trophies but nothing satisfies me other than giving the best out there in public with the innate talent.

Dancing is like something greater than just a passion to me.. The only thing that could separate the blood and the veins is death.. Performances here and there, I could feel the aura of every ambiance I perform in. There is a magic in every crowd, some tight vibrations which charge me to entertain them.. Its something inexpressive..  

Something I wish to hold onto. A remark I wish to justify, yet fail! I am anticipating I would always be there to give my best, to smile and get everybody a hint of what it feels like to be dazed !

© Latika Sareen 

Protected by Copyscape DMCA Copyright Protection

Monday, June 18, 2012

The Love Touch :* (Ambiguous Emotions)

   I have been in love. Intense love. Immense love. I am anticipating that he feels the same. Likewise.
He- whom I dream of, in terms of music; lyrics; passion; bitterness; flame; delight and what not else...
Ask me if I could lay down and chant one name - "I would".
I quote myself to him, relating and communicating in every tiny possible way, to leave nothing pending.

He is far. Yet he is mine. I say, oh I sense.
We are compatible. Forget the looks. Our taste is similar, and so is our ideologies.

Enough time has elapsed. We still hold the same status of hookup. Ask me what don't I like about him, I would list a few. Ask me what I do - "The rest would be written on dew".

Some intimate sensations cultivating in me whisper -

"Gazing at him, makes me yearn,
Lightning my body, blossom burns,
The love cultivation which grows common,
Loving his image, enclosing the conviction..

I would die, and make love to him forever,
The poised postures, our moaning together
His touch makes me feel the sensation grown
The sole beauty whom I own

The taste of his lips;
His aura distinguished;
I feel it near;
Whispering bewitched

I feel the love he professed
Steamy, arousing,
That he compressed..."

After all the enticement we have had through the years; all I now feel is that "I am yours".

The property you charged me as, freely be yours.

The only left now is to taste the chosen 'you', to get a little more closer to you, in terms of everything..
I have not anticipated my next birth, but in this life, You Will Remain Mine From Any Distance !!

And, I will always have a right on you, you yourself can't even tell me to stop it. Because, you are in love..

Even though I wish you were here, your scent is still I savor; remembering just the good we have had between each other. A kiss which is yet to be lingered... The love which I yet have to make you cherish on; think upon.

I love you with all my thoughts and beyond my expectations.. I owe u, me!

With Extreme Love -

Your other half .. :*

© Latika Sareen
Protected by Copyscape DMCA Copyright Protection

Sunday, June 17, 2012

Chadta suraj by Aziz Nazam

Life explained in plain words.. Live by the song, inhale the air of it..
One of my 'favourite' Qawaalis of all times ...

Chadta Suraj by the great - AZIZ NAZAM ! 

Wednesday, June 13, 2012

Devil in Disguise..

    Many of the stories start with 'Broken Hearts' and terminate with the slogan 'Happy Endings'. However, this story is a little different and uncertain from the common ones. This story commenced with the 'silence' and ended on a dead note. Lets interpret the meaning of anguish from a different outlook..through the story of beloved Lohana and her family.

   Lohana was a 22 year old, city based family girl in India. Living there from past 5 years, after moving from Canada was a big task. She was affluent, mature in thoughts, extremely stunning beauty to look at. She was a plain lady, who dressed with a sense of simplicity, with an attitude to be 'down to earth'. She was residing in New Delhi with her family which comprised of her father Vishal, and her mother, Vanshika. She was a contrast to all the certain ones around her. But she never knew that her family would cast an evil eye on her than granting her the blessings she yearned for.

    As Lohana grew older, living in a particular place had made it easy for Lohana to fall in love with the beauty of nature. While hanging around with her own group of girls and boys, she found it hard to fall for any guy that smoothly. Lohana's dad was an extreme Drug addict, a drunkard, an invidual who seemed good for nothing. He never had realized his charges for his daughter and his wife. Rather, he earned his living by living on streets, and by raping women with the group he lived with. He was termed as a 'moral less and a characterless man' for what he did behind his family's back.

     There were times when Lohana used to walk home late from classes due to tuitions and  late night studies, yet she was never disturbed in the middle of the road by anyone. One evening, Vishal was out with his friends on his tour to fulfill the signed contracts and boozing. It was a dark environment, when Lohana, decided to leave the college and finally be home with her mother, Vanshika. Vishal's friends were fully drunk and had no sense of what would happen next in their lives. This is when the whole moment changed from being positive to negative...

    After walking a few miles, Lohana got exhausted. Whereas Vishal and his friends were looking for a prey to chew on. As Vishal's friends saw a girl walking in dark on the road, they moved out of the car, holding a sack to have a delightful time. They followed Lohana without her notice. They got infront of her, put the sack over her with the duct tape covering her mouth and dragging her to the safer place where they could have their gala time with the young one.
Lohana screamed on the top of her voice, with tears in her eyes, but those filthy men disregarded her voice, including Vishal. The men had wraped the shirt around the girl and had knocked her to the floor. It seemed like darkness had swallowed her. Vishal was unnheard to the sinful deed he was going to commit by raping his own daughter.

    Lohana struggled hard but they forced her to go up the stairs. They got to the roof and held her down on the ground screaming, "Shut the **** up and stop moving around!". The shirt had covered her face but she clamored to the clouds. So one of the men, stomped on the girl until he broke her jaw. The bastards were aware of their deed to the girl yet they ignored the 'letting go' fact. The men broke her ribs until she stopped moving.
    Lohana had her blood leaking through the cloth, crying silently, when they all proceeded to rape the girl violently. One of them was sent first, but each of them took a turn, breaking her jaws without their concern. When they were done and she was lying bloody, broken and bruised, they had uttered that she was a witness of what she was going through. Vishal got the last chance to end the girl's life after raping her to his heart. He was proud standing with his brothers, he pulled the shirt cover from the girl's face. But what he saw made him start to cringe and stutter, because he was staring into the eyes of his own DAUGHTER.
She looked back at him and cried, because he had forsaken her, she cried full of pain than when they were raping her.

    His whole world shattered, he couldn't even contemplate. His corruption had succesfully changed his fate. He turned away from the girl he had once loved and termed her as his 'daughter'. He shivered, gaining senses back after ending his daughter's life. He cried out to the sky as he was lonely and startled, but no one responded except the devil. And right there he knew what it was to be empty and cold, so he jumped off the roof and died with no soul. And both of their lives ended with alarming notices.

    No one ever spoke about the death of the two. The mom after hearing this was paralyzed for 10 years. Now that noone had to look after Lohana's mother, she died being paralyzed, weeping and grieving for what she had lost. That is how the family ended with no love amongst any.

    Moral of the Story - Live the life given as it is, moulding and indulging into negative materials end up shattering the 'family'.. Every man is responsible for his family, every man needs to be awaken !!

Credits : Dance with the Devil by Immortal Technique

© Latika Sareen
Protected by Copyscape DMCA Copyright Protection

Sunday, June 10, 2012

Ibaadat ~~

   Rabba tujhe sach mana,
Fir bhi khudai na kar paaye,
Dillagi karne aaye the,
Bewafayi kar gaye..

Tu hi taaruf karwade zindagi se humara,
Hum laachar hain, ek tu hi kamyaab hai..

Deedar hum karenge tera,
Mauka toh de, khud pe faut hone ka,
Insaaf aisa tu karna,
Ki hum ibaadat kar sakein

Insaaf aisa tu karna, 
Ki hum ibaadat kar sakein,
Zindagi ke har rukh pe teri,
Ijaazat le sakein...Teri ijaazat le sakin.. 

© Latika Sareen
Protected by Copyscape DMCA Copyright Protection

Saturday, June 9, 2012

In a Fit of Rage !!

    This emotion at times which makes me feel like digging my nails into my skin and clamor to the fullest . . .

This sensation which makes me hate EVERYBODY, without any exceptions...

The time when I can not hold onto my tears ; all I wanna do is SHRIEK ! SCREECH ! OUTCRY ! 

And yell out,

Because I have tolerated beyond my breaking point... No more of those lousy understandings; no more of shit; no more of those insincere cries.. I am done taking all, being civilized to no limits.. Now its time to act up!

People dance on your heads if you give them too much freedom over yourself..

DON'T ! DON'T ! Be it anybody, Be in Limits, Do not let them see your real self, because
They-will-regret-seeing-your-breaking-point .


© Latika Sareen
Protected by Copyscape DMCA Copyright Protection

Tuesday, June 5, 2012

The Lost Soul . . I Differ ~~

       Often I sit to ponder over myself.

 I interrogate my own self - "What is my identity? Where do I come from? Who do I actually belong to? What is my existence on this planet?" etc. etc.

However, I have been left unanswered.

There comes no solution to all the pensive dilemmas.

Ever since my teenage, there has been something which mentally grew me up. Since then itself, I felt like I need to search for my lost soul !

There is a greed in me I sense.

A greed for compassion, to burst out, to speak up, to be counted as someone in the crowd and not remain unnoticed.

It is my soul perhaps who wants to clamor even amongst the humans.

What am I? Am I a human without a soul, or a soul without the body? What do I want to seek? The public affection or my bottom self?

Whom do I think I feel comfortable with? A man or a woman?

I dont know ! I am obscure to the choices. Choices which were made by the evolution, landed us as humans on the planet.

It is uncanny.
It is absurd to find the real you.

It is a grave mound you ought to dig, to get answers, to be answered precise.

Frequent, my inner spirit touches me deep down, to make me feel that there are two different creatures in one.

It makes me feel that I differ. I differ from all those who seem so certain.

I think I differ in thoughts, or the mind-set...or the perspective.

But I differ.

I claim. Atleast I feel I do.

© Latika Sareen
Protected by Copyscape DMCA Copyright Protection