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Gham-e-Rozgar - Tyranny of Livelihood

Drudgery of daily living saps life of its every joy. In drudgery, I do not imply the bleakness of ho-hum chores that comprise work. Most challenging tasks fall into a pattern with numbing familiarity when performed repeatedly over a long time. Even a creative art, be it writing, music, acting, film-making, etc., that seems to promise a fresh perspective every day is just a professional work for the artist. Only those who practice it with the rigour of an artisan excel in their field and create a body of work that public admires as their contribution to the art. I use the phrase drudgery of daily living for the tyranny of work that is necessary to sustain life yet blights it simultaneously. This is the lot of most men - A life of bondage with no redemption in sight. When stuck in this station, they must work incessantly from day to night to afford the means to preserve the breath, only to wake up another day, and begin once again the life-scorching saga. Few people are fortunate t
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The World of My Books – My Many Histories

Each book in my library has a unique appeal. I never walk across a book-shelf without stealing a glance at the spines of the stacked volumes. Often, I linger over them, when such a fancy seizes me and the moments of my life are not hemmed in by the demands of a workaday routine. Sometimes a chance remembrance brings a whiff of a scintillating experience I have had reading a book. I then head towards them with a zeal. I dive into my collection, one genre leads to another, a book of an author reminds me of his other works, glimpse of a book peeping from the rear prompts me to bring down the row in the front; I sit surrounded by mounds of books, pick one from the pile and live again the time I had spent with the book – years, perhaps decades, ago.   Words of the author breath life in to the inert pages of a book. This is the character a book is born with. Each reader brings to a book, a world all his own, because no two individuals are alike. With every new reader book unfolds a n
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Ageing Spine – Harbinger of An Unyielding Nature?

  Neurophysician, whom I consulted for backache, ordered MRI scan of the spine. Scan threatens to reveal much more than I had expected to learn. Spine is the seat of a man’s character. It is subjected to superlative praise and humiliating slanders in social parlance. Ignominy of being called spineless – although, often behind your back – chafes endlessly. A ramrod spine hugely elevates the stature of the person. Spine bears the weight of the body and the spirit, alike. My changing spine might presage remodelling of my nature. This worries me. Radiologist said, my spine has lost the natural curves. Does my straightened spine foreshadow a staid, unchanging behaviour, robbed of its naturally meandering nature? This condemns me to an insipid life of inflexible dreariness. Wise aver that chameleonic personality is a blessing in our world. Gottfried Willhelm Leibniz, German mathematician, and philosopher of early eighteenth century, opined that we live in the best of all possible wor
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