I have often thought and said that pain helps the spark of creativity in us and helps us cross the threshold that otherwise restricts us. I saw Rockstar yesterday and the question rose again. Is pain the only way to produce your best work, creativity wise?
I think it has to do with intense emotions. Any intense emotion, if channeled, can help a creator come up with an inspired creation. If we accept this hypothesis, then the next question comes - why are all our best works a product of a period of suffering?
There can be two reasons for that. I have personally felt that both of them go hand in hand.
First: Pain is the easiest emotion to channel. Compare it witb joy, excitement, success, love... all intense but happy emotions. These emotions have becone occassions to celebrate. And with the passage of time, we have learnt to take them in our stride. Shelf them. And aspire for more. There is no contentment with achievement of these emotions. Rather, they serve as a push to gun for more. Why stop now, when i can go another mile?
Pain stops us on our feet. Forces us to think and change the course that we have been moving along on merrily thus far. It is often this stimulus that guides the work of creativity. It becomes easy to give up all the other things that might be going on and focus on just one thing that really matters. Which is the creation of a creator. This singlemindedness propels the work of art to a personal genius. It comes from the deepest part in us, comes from our soul.
Second: when nothing else matters, the sense of fear on being judged for the work goes away. The creator stops caring for the opinions of the world. This goes hand in hand with the first point to help create the singlemindedness of utmost devotion to the work at hand.
The work, thus created, is undoubtedly the best you'll ever do. And a creator longs for pain. Masochism, is a common trait in all creative people... for the love of art, they'll suffer. Because that is the most important thing in theit lives.
I am sure my thoughts on this are not exhaustive. I welcome any comments or suggestions on this. Would like to understand it better myself.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Love's Labor Costs - Part 2
Bella searched and searched and searched for her Kaspy. From the screeching, rushing docks to the quiet graveyards. But, Kaspy eluded her. No hint....no clue... no trace. She was spiraling deeper and deeper into mind numbing despair, as she searched for her life, her love. Every corner, every street, every lane turned up nothing. Here, there, everywhere - no answers, no reasons, no sense to the tragedy that had silently and abruptly crashed into her life and brought it to a complete halt. She would not, could not, pay attention to the pleas of their family, who she and Kaspy had loved immensely.
As she scoured the streets of the city, something else began to dawn upon her. In all her quests to find Kaspy, one thread seemed to run through. The old and haggard lady was always around. Sometimes far, sometimes near, sometimes just a glimpse. But it was not the old lady herself who intrigued Bella. She realised that in her wake, the old woman would always leave sorrow. People pining with grief, people with tears, people with hollow, empty eyes. People who seemed to be feeling exactly what Bella herself had been feeling. "The old hag is to blame then", thought Bella, eager to grasp at the first semblance of reason offered to her. And Bella began to hate the old lady. With her heart, with her being, with all the despair turned to anger. Where there had been a levity and lightness in her life, now it was a cesspool of darkness, anger, morbidity. She hated the woman but realized that the only way she could triumph over the blow that the old woman had dealt her was, ironically,to meet with her, one final time. She made the arrangements. Laid down the pills and the chocolate milk (Kaspy's favourite drink). She looked around her house one last time, swallowed the mouthful of pills and lay down, closing her eyes.
She woke with a start. The four walls of her house still surrounded her. But they seemed a bit different. There were voices coming from the garden. That couldn't be possible. She had made sure to break off all contact from her family quite some time ago. She got up and moved to the window to take a look. And there they were.
Bella and Kaspy. In happier times. In together times. Laughing, teasing, with love in their eyes for each other. Like a shared secret. Then, suddenly, the mood changed. Kaspy grew sombre and thoughtful. He took Bella's hand in his. "Bella, what I am saying might seem frivolous and untimely, but I do hope you will recollect it when the need arises. There will come a time when we are going to lose the solace of each other's company forever. Without any logic or reason. One of us is going to leave the other one. And it might bring in its wake, grief, anger, darkness. I want us to remember, then. Remember the times we had, the machinations of fate and effort that made those times possible. And feel blessed. Revel in the light and not fall prey to the gloomy darkness that would be beckoning. Let the legacy of our love be happiness and light."
As she looked out of the window at the younger Bella and Kaspy, Bella couldn't help the tears that escaped her eyes. She surrendered to the emotion rising up like a wave inside her, and sobbed and sobbed. Through her tears, through the ouflow of her grief, she remembered, at last. She remembered her time with Kaspy, the love they had shared. Their fights, their grief, and also their happiness. As the wave of grief ebbed, she was left with an empty feeling. But this wasn't the same dark cavern that had existed inside her. It was as if the wave had washed away all of the darkness and heaviness inside of her. And she was free, to live again, to love her family again. She turned away from the window, and to her surprise the old lady stood at the entrance of the room. She shuffled slowly towards Bella and led her by the hand. The old lady's eyes were calm and wise and they seemed strangely soothing to Bella as she lay down to sleep again. Except this time the dream that she had was very chaotic. Lots of people hurrying around, voices shouting, her daughter's among them. Sirens wailing, someone shaking her. Silence descended on her again.
Bella woke to a hospital room and her family. And to a life that seemed worth living some more. She had realized how blessed she and Kaspy had been to have so much love in their lives and she resolved to leave the same legacy to her family as well. After all, love does make the world go round.
Bella did meet the old lady again. One last time. It was the old lady who took Bella by her hand and led her into the waiting arms of Kaspy.
As she scoured the streets of the city, something else began to dawn upon her. In all her quests to find Kaspy, one thread seemed to run through. The old and haggard lady was always around. Sometimes far, sometimes near, sometimes just a glimpse. But it was not the old lady herself who intrigued Bella. She realised that in her wake, the old woman would always leave sorrow. People pining with grief, people with tears, people with hollow, empty eyes. People who seemed to be feeling exactly what Bella herself had been feeling. "The old hag is to blame then", thought Bella, eager to grasp at the first semblance of reason offered to her. And Bella began to hate the old lady. With her heart, with her being, with all the despair turned to anger. Where there had been a levity and lightness in her life, now it was a cesspool of darkness, anger, morbidity. She hated the woman but realized that the only way she could triumph over the blow that the old woman had dealt her was, ironically,to meet with her, one final time. She made the arrangements. Laid down the pills and the chocolate milk (Kaspy's favourite drink). She looked around her house one last time, swallowed the mouthful of pills and lay down, closing her eyes.
She woke with a start. The four walls of her house still surrounded her. But they seemed a bit different. There were voices coming from the garden. That couldn't be possible. She had made sure to break off all contact from her family quite some time ago. She got up and moved to the window to take a look. And there they were.
Bella and Kaspy. In happier times. In together times. Laughing, teasing, with love in their eyes for each other. Like a shared secret. Then, suddenly, the mood changed. Kaspy grew sombre and thoughtful. He took Bella's hand in his. "Bella, what I am saying might seem frivolous and untimely, but I do hope you will recollect it when the need arises. There will come a time when we are going to lose the solace of each other's company forever. Without any logic or reason. One of us is going to leave the other one. And it might bring in its wake, grief, anger, darkness. I want us to remember, then. Remember the times we had, the machinations of fate and effort that made those times possible. And feel blessed. Revel in the light and not fall prey to the gloomy darkness that would be beckoning. Let the legacy of our love be happiness and light."
As she looked out of the window at the younger Bella and Kaspy, Bella couldn't help the tears that escaped her eyes. She surrendered to the emotion rising up like a wave inside her, and sobbed and sobbed. Through her tears, through the ouflow of her grief, she remembered, at last. She remembered her time with Kaspy, the love they had shared. Their fights, their grief, and also their happiness. As the wave of grief ebbed, she was left with an empty feeling. But this wasn't the same dark cavern that had existed inside her. It was as if the wave had washed away all of the darkness and heaviness inside of her. And she was free, to live again, to love her family again. She turned away from the window, and to her surprise the old lady stood at the entrance of the room. She shuffled slowly towards Bella and led her by the hand. The old lady's eyes were calm and wise and they seemed strangely soothing to Bella as she lay down to sleep again. Except this time the dream that she had was very chaotic. Lots of people hurrying around, voices shouting, her daughter's among them. Sirens wailing, someone shaking her. Silence descended on her again.
Bella woke to a hospital room and her family. And to a life that seemed worth living some more. She had realized how blessed she and Kaspy had been to have so much love in their lives and she resolved to leave the same legacy to her family as well. After all, love does make the world go round.
Bella did meet the old lady again. One last time. It was the old lady who took Bella by her hand and led her into the waiting arms of Kaspy.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Love's Labor Costs
Bella had no idea what time meant. She had never known how old she was or what date, month or year it was. It seemed odd to those who knew her. It was not that she was lost. She wasn’t lost at all. Just that she had come to a conclusion that time is immaterial. It never bothered her to know, and she quickly forgot when was it exactly that she was.
What people found queer, Bella felt was her way of life. She did not mind people telling her over and over again that she should keep a track of time. People seemed to believe that there was no way one can survive without knowing what time it was. Once the more famous forms of tortures, they said, discovered by men was isolating the candidate and putting him in a room with no windows. Men went crazy without knowing the date or even if its day or night.
The calm and composure of Bella, even as she had no track of time perturbed the people who knew her. Ironically, a lot of them went crazy attempting to ‘fix’ her. Her composure also lent her an air of mystery and no one could comprehend her agnosticism towards knowledge of time.
There was only one old and haggard woman who knew why Bella was the way she was. Bella had come across her several times but she didn't remember that either. Who was this strange lady? She was always around, lurking in shady streets, shady corners of the city, hiding herself from people, who had loathed her forever now. They ignored her and wanted never to look at her and had shunned her to the ruins of the city where she roamed alone. No one to talk to, no one to share with. It had been ages since she had been there, forgotten by all. Generation after generation of men had let her be, and gradually her tale became a myth. She was lost forever. Well, maybe not forever.
It was October, 1965. Bella did not remember this date either. She had started losing track of time then. She had been happy once. Happier than she’d ever known anyone to be. She had loved Kaspy once with all her mind, heart and soul. He was the love of her life, all that she lived for. All that she thought of. She had made sacrifices that seemed to her the most natural thing to do. People were shocked at her decisions. “You are throwing away your whole life’s hard work”, they used to say. “My whole life’s hard work got me to Kaspy. He is the reward of everything I’ve done. Now I want to cherish it. Tell me what’s wrong with that.” She did. Till 2011. She was 70.
I am no one to judge whether the sacrifices were right or wrong. However, she did make a mistake. She should not have loved so much. The ingrate Kaspy just left one day. He was a human being after all. On his way home from the book store, he met the old hag. They had a brief word, and he left with her. Never coming home. Never telling Bella what had happened. He was gone.
He was gone. The void in her life, was much more than what Bella could take. She had no idea where Kaspy was and she was determined to find him. She walked the streets of the city in despair – yet determined to find Kaspy...
What people found queer, Bella felt was her way of life. She did not mind people telling her over and over again that she should keep a track of time. People seemed to believe that there was no way one can survive without knowing what time it was. Once the more famous forms of tortures, they said, discovered by men was isolating the candidate and putting him in a room with no windows. Men went crazy without knowing the date or even if its day or night.
The calm and composure of Bella, even as she had no track of time perturbed the people who knew her. Ironically, a lot of them went crazy attempting to ‘fix’ her. Her composure also lent her an air of mystery and no one could comprehend her agnosticism towards knowledge of time.
There was only one old and haggard woman who knew why Bella was the way she was. Bella had come across her several times but she didn't remember that either. Who was this strange lady? She was always around, lurking in shady streets, shady corners of the city, hiding herself from people, who had loathed her forever now. They ignored her and wanted never to look at her and had shunned her to the ruins of the city where she roamed alone. No one to talk to, no one to share with. It had been ages since she had been there, forgotten by all. Generation after generation of men had let her be, and gradually her tale became a myth. She was lost forever. Well, maybe not forever.
It was October, 1965. Bella did not remember this date either. She had started losing track of time then. She had been happy once. Happier than she’d ever known anyone to be. She had loved Kaspy once with all her mind, heart and soul. He was the love of her life, all that she lived for. All that she thought of. She had made sacrifices that seemed to her the most natural thing to do. People were shocked at her decisions. “You are throwing away your whole life’s hard work”, they used to say. “My whole life’s hard work got me to Kaspy. He is the reward of everything I’ve done. Now I want to cherish it. Tell me what’s wrong with that.” She did. Till 2011. She was 70.
I am no one to judge whether the sacrifices were right or wrong. However, she did make a mistake. She should not have loved so much. The ingrate Kaspy just left one day. He was a human being after all. On his way home from the book store, he met the old hag. They had a brief word, and he left with her. Never coming home. Never telling Bella what had happened. He was gone.
He was gone. The void in her life, was much more than what Bella could take. She had no idea where Kaspy was and she was determined to find him. She walked the streets of the city in despair – yet determined to find Kaspy...
Friday, October 14, 2011
Love's labor costs...
Its time to begin another chapter, another story on this dead-for-a-month-and-a-half blog. I am answerable to the writer in me who thinks job is not a good enough reason for not writing anymore. I am anawerable to my sister who got me this android phone, perhaps only for this. I am answerable to my love, who has been searching for kasper for 4 months now.
My next story, which will be in 2 parts, will be posted here soon. I'll write the first and rigveda kadam will write the second. I am dedicating my half to her, and my sister. And of course to the quest of love in a romantic. Stay tuned for the first part.. coming up later tonight.
My next story, which will be in 2 parts, will be posted here soon. I'll write the first and rigveda kadam will write the second. I am dedicating my half to her, and my sister. And of course to the quest of love in a romantic. Stay tuned for the first part.. coming up later tonight.
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
The Quest Of The Sparrows
Hi All,
My first book - The Quest of the Sparrows: Explore the Joy of Freedom - is out!!! It has been published by Rupa Publications.
About the book:
It is the story of a reluctant young engineer who is forced to become a guru due to his circumstances. He takes inspiration from the life of a sparrow which though being frail in nature, never hoards for the future and lives every day of its life joyously. In http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifcomplete contrast, human beings, despite being placed on top of the evolution ladder have flooded their lives with worries. In their anxiety http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gifto secure their future, they have reduced their lives to mediocrity and given up their quest of evolving themselves. The result is that their lives are no more significant than that of a sparrow: an irony.
It is a fast paced, easy to read book of fiction in which the message is imbibed in the experiences of the characters in the story.
Here is the link to the wiki page of the book: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Quest_of_the_Sparrows
and my website: Kartik Sharma
Enjoy Reading. Happy Evolution.
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
A Promise, To Die For
A story of death rests in my drawer in the office. Another story, of death, goes on the blog. Some call me morbid. Not too wrong, are they?
3 AM:
He had the gun pointed to his head. Not in the way they show it in the movies. You know, with the barrel pointed at the temple. He was staring down the barrel. Waiting for death to lunge out from in there any moment. His brain was in a serious discussion with his index finger which, for now, was ambling around the trigger, carelessly, waiting for inspiration. As he had. For most of his life.
This part of his life, not surprisingly, is called 'The Inspiration'.
He wanted to end the grind. The relentless pain and misery. Or maybe he just got bored? Na. He had a good life, which flashed before his eyes. Not like they say in the movies. He was trying his best to make some sense out of it.
He looked around his apartment at the pictures of all the people he loved. And those who had loved him. He was supposed to feel an obligation towards them that he did not feel. No matter how hard he tried.
"Why?" he wondered. "Why is it so easy to be selfish?"
"It's not. You are doing all of them a favor. Trust me." There was another voice inside him. He hadn't listened to it so far, and now it was bursting out of him. His mind, had suppressed it up until now. No more. No more.
"What do you worry about? The pain you'll cause them? Let me give you some perspective - there is no such thing as a lasting sense of loss. You have lost loved ones, haven't you? How much do you think about them now? It seemed like you'll never get over the grief at the time. Look at you now. Life goes on, buddy."
He listened intently to the voice and was trying to find arguments, but he found his finger moving on to the trigger now. He found his hand firming its grip around the revolver.
"There is salvation waiting at the end of that tunnel. Its coming for you. Freedom - of heart and mind. You are your own God at this time."
The thought, now lodged in his mind gave him a sense of power. His arrogance, now assuaged, accepted the fact rather easily. It was so easily to fool him. Well, who has been served well by arrogance, ever!
"Allow yourself the gift. You deserve it. You have been a good son, husband and father."
"I have been. Haven't I? I have worked so hard for 25 years of my life to provide for my family and my loved ones. They can do without me. They need me out of their lives now."
He had worked his way into the best engineering schools in the country and then to the best business schools. He had slogged the best years of his life in a top-notch job that he loved so much. And he had provided well for them. Assuming that they needed him to provide for them. Assumption. He believed the arrogance was an 'occupational perk'. He could easily afford it.
"That is the only way they'll be free. This is the only way to unlock the true happiness for them."
"What have I become?" he asked.
"It is your duty to set your spirit free. You have suppressed it long enough. Fulfill your duty to your spirit."
There was a smile on his face. The fingers, which were not paying any heed to his mind until now, suddenly seemed to looked at him questioningly. He nodded, slowly.
FLASH!
He woke up the next morning, a new man. A part of him that had outlived its importance, and needed to go had died. He had promised himself that he will pursue his dreams. He wanted to read, write, travel and experience things.
Guess what. He did exactly that.
Yet another, true story.
3 AM:
He had the gun pointed to his head. Not in the way they show it in the movies. You know, with the barrel pointed at the temple. He was staring down the barrel. Waiting for death to lunge out from in there any moment. His brain was in a serious discussion with his index finger which, for now, was ambling around the trigger, carelessly, waiting for inspiration. As he had. For most of his life.
This part of his life, not surprisingly, is called 'The Inspiration'.
He wanted to end the grind. The relentless pain and misery. Or maybe he just got bored? Na. He had a good life, which flashed before his eyes. Not like they say in the movies. He was trying his best to make some sense out of it.
He looked around his apartment at the pictures of all the people he loved. And those who had loved him. He was supposed to feel an obligation towards them that he did not feel. No matter how hard he tried.
"Why?" he wondered. "Why is it so easy to be selfish?"
"It's not. You are doing all of them a favor. Trust me." There was another voice inside him. He hadn't listened to it so far, and now it was bursting out of him. His mind, had suppressed it up until now. No more. No more.
"What do you worry about? The pain you'll cause them? Let me give you some perspective - there is no such thing as a lasting sense of loss. You have lost loved ones, haven't you? How much do you think about them now? It seemed like you'll never get over the grief at the time. Look at you now. Life goes on, buddy."
He listened intently to the voice and was trying to find arguments, but he found his finger moving on to the trigger now. He found his hand firming its grip around the revolver.
"There is salvation waiting at the end of that tunnel. Its coming for you. Freedom - of heart and mind. You are your own God at this time."
The thought, now lodged in his mind gave him a sense of power. His arrogance, now assuaged, accepted the fact rather easily. It was so easily to fool him. Well, who has been served well by arrogance, ever!
"Allow yourself the gift. You deserve it. You have been a good son, husband and father."
"I have been. Haven't I? I have worked so hard for 25 years of my life to provide for my family and my loved ones. They can do without me. They need me out of their lives now."
He had worked his way into the best engineering schools in the country and then to the best business schools. He had slogged the best years of his life in a top-notch job that he loved so much. And he had provided well for them. Assuming that they needed him to provide for them. Assumption. He believed the arrogance was an 'occupational perk'. He could easily afford it.
"That is the only way they'll be free. This is the only way to unlock the true happiness for them."
"What have I become?" he asked.
"It is your duty to set your spirit free. You have suppressed it long enough. Fulfill your duty to your spirit."
There was a smile on his face. The fingers, which were not paying any heed to his mind until now, suddenly seemed to looked at him questioningly. He nodded, slowly.
FLASH!
He woke up the next morning, a new man. A part of him that had outlived its importance, and needed to go had died. He had promised himself that he will pursue his dreams. He wanted to read, write, travel and experience things.
Guess what. He did exactly that.
Yet another, true story.
Monday, July 18, 2011
New York
When I started this blog, I promised myself that I will make at least a post a month. I have skipped the last two months, and it breaks my heart. My job does not allow me time enough to write even one post a month and that is, according to me the biggest downside of the job.
I actually happen to like the work and of late - I am loving the job a lot because I have a little over 30 days in New York City. On my own, I would never have travelled to US. I got nothing against the country, but I love Europe.
New York. The first foreign location that I have seen teeming with masses. It is almost as densely populated as Chandini Chowk in Dilli. So I don't think I am missing much, my homeland wise. Only the people. Only the ones I love.
1 month is not too and there is too much to do here and that keeps me occupied. I have seen the times square - both during the day and at night. I can see it from my hotel room window. Apparently, I got a good view. Apparently.
The city has no charm for me. The high rise buildings - the Manhattan skyline - there is nothing to it that allures me. Man made ugliness, I call it. I love the open, quite places and the European-esque places. And I found such a place here as well yesterday. South Port. I took a ferry ride through the silence of the Hudson River with engines grunting away above me - on the Manhattan and Brooklyn bridges and all around me in the land. I could not be more removed from all the noise and experienced peace for the first time in 2 days that I have been here.
There is a gigantic St. Patrick's church quite close by and that is next on my places to visit as soon as possible. I have been told it is amazing to take a walk on the Brooklyn bridge, so that is also on the cards.
The people I am interacting with are from all over the globe. Would like to meet the New Yorkers a little more to learn more about them.. but there is time for that. It is inevitable.
This was just a catch-up post with my favourite me-place.
I actually happen to like the work and of late - I am loving the job a lot because I have a little over 30 days in New York City. On my own, I would never have travelled to US. I got nothing against the country, but I love Europe.
New York. The first foreign location that I have seen teeming with masses. It is almost as densely populated as Chandini Chowk in Dilli. So I don't think I am missing much, my homeland wise. Only the people. Only the ones I love.
1 month is not too and there is too much to do here and that keeps me occupied. I have seen the times square - both during the day and at night. I can see it from my hotel room window. Apparently, I got a good view. Apparently.
The city has no charm for me. The high rise buildings - the Manhattan skyline - there is nothing to it that allures me. Man made ugliness, I call it. I love the open, quite places and the European-esque places. And I found such a place here as well yesterday. South Port. I took a ferry ride through the silence of the Hudson River with engines grunting away above me - on the Manhattan and Brooklyn bridges and all around me in the land. I could not be more removed from all the noise and experienced peace for the first time in 2 days that I have been here.
There is a gigantic St. Patrick's church quite close by and that is next on my places to visit as soon as possible. I have been told it is amazing to take a walk on the Brooklyn bridge, so that is also on the cards.
The people I am interacting with are from all over the globe. Would like to meet the New Yorkers a little more to learn more about them.. but there is time for that. It is inevitable.
This was just a catch-up post with my favourite me-place.
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