Amar Anagoto, Amar Anahoto...

“A thousand desires such as these...

Pause me, hold me, reach me,
Where no man has gone
Crossing the seven seas
With the wings of fire
I fly towards nowhere
And you ‒
Rivers, mountains, rain !
Rain against a scorched landscape of pain ” (Soundtrack of Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi)

I look at my tragedies, the pains I had no options to, the moments I cannot undo, personal failures, my mistakes and shame. It sends a tremble through my nerves. It is a feel of sudden collapse of a person I am. But do I collapse forever, do I never resurrect from my own ashes? May be I wouldn't have if I was a story of only dark chapters. And I'm not the only person with mistakes and disasters in life. I haven't met a single person without tragedies and sadness. I remember this passage from the Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller-

“Everywhere I go people are making a mess of their lives. Everyone has his private tragedy. It's in the blood now – misfortune, ennui, grief, suicide. The atmosphere is saturated with disaster, frustration, futility. Scratch and scratch – until there's no skin left.”

There is something that always keeps me afloat- a desire to stay happy. Among a thousand desires, the root one is to be happy. Life has made me to learn my responsibility for it. It is a right to me that I must protect against all forces. There is a poem that gives me philosophical guard against losses, failures and hurt. This poem defines my general take on life-

“Jibone jaha kichhu holo na sara
Jani he jani tao hoyni hara.
Je phul na futite jhorechhe dhoronite
Je nodi morupothe haralo dhara
Jani he tao hoy ni hara.
Jibone ajo jaha royechhe pichhe
Jani he jani tao hoyni michhe.
Amar anagoto, amar anahoto
Tomar binatare bajechhe tara.”