Serenading surreality

Useless thoughts on this piece

Apartment complexes, skyscrapers and sidewalks have always frightened me. And yet, they manage to be pretty intriguing at the same time. I often wonder if the city lives, too, if it breathes and laughs and cries like the living. But what if the world is dead? my puny mind axes. What if it's merely an illusion -- if death is an illusion of life greater to come? It's weird and it's mystifying. It has so many edges. There are so many ways to look at life, and at death within life. And it is then that man tries to convince himself that yes, he is living, and that the world isn't as false-faced as he believes it to be. But is this an illusion also? Is life nothing but illusion?

I've also been wanting to write from the point of view of a person who doesn't feel safe out in the big, wide artificial universe. Hence, the dark corners and "downtown" seem bright. I could blabber on about this all day, but I think this is pushing it already.

Interpret it as you will. It's not much good anyway, and I don't mind. XD

The intricate and overwhelming imagery of Rubaiyat has often enraptured and captivated me. Writers like Omar Khayyam and Rumi are one of the amazing-est Persian Poets of history, and I've been longing to try my hand at it for a long, long time. So, what is a Rubaiyat, you ask?

It's a form of free-verse poetry; normally, lines don't rhyme, but they can rhyme, though with no specific pattern. In effect, a story is conveyed in four lines, but unlike Haiku which are used to create images or a particular scene within the reader's mind, Rubaiyat tell a story. They delve into the historical depths of time, and into people's hearts. There's a whole load of research behind a rubaiyat; a history, you could say, and there's tons of imagery. (Which is one reason I love analyzing and reading it so much!) I've included a kinda-sorta summary of the Rubaiyat above, in case you'd like to check them out

1. This Rubaiyat explores the dark ages of Mughal history; the period after Aurangzeb, the last emperor who actually had any power, died, and the succession wars started. This was when British expansionism started in the sub-continent -- what is modern-day India and Pakistan. It's a very popular saying of the then governor-I-always-forget-his-name that: "One shelf of European literature is richer than an entire library of Indian literature."

This was because people were not striving for education anymore. And the ignorance that had existed in the pre-Islamic era had returned. I've given the example of Humayun here, who was one of the earlier Mughal emperors, here. Humayun lost the throne soon after he became king, and spent much of his life in exile, only returning after the man who had usurped throne had died. Humayun became king once again, only to die a few months after, and his son -- I bet you all know this guy -- Akbar, became king. Anyway, what I meant by that super-long and confusing history lesson, was that ignorance returned, just as Humayun did. But there's a twist -- that ignorance will die soon.

2. This is just a pretty scene of the transition time between night and dawn, with tons of imagery. "An upturned spectacle" is the moon. Geddit? It's a "mark of time" because we know it's night when we see the moon. I've grown tired of comparing clouds to cotton, hence the word "lint" came into play. I guess you can decipher for yourself what I mean. When clouds float across the sky, it's like the sun-beams are playing with the clouds -- like "scarlet peacocks that dance asunder."

And tha's about it. Thank God.

And this is why, children, we should not play with fire.

There's a reason kite-flying is banned in many parts of India and the sub-continent. Yerps.