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Showing posts from August, 2022

“Ja Re Ja Re Ud Ja Re Panchhi”: A Song of Letting Go

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A moment of quiet release — from the song “Ja Re Ja Re Ud Ja Re Panchhi” Would you believe that the song “जा रे, जा रे उड़ जा रे पंछी” can convey such depth of meaning through the simple image of a bird in flight? Just look at the words: जा रे, जा रे उड़ जा रे पंछी बहारों के देस जा रे यहाँ क्या है मेरे प्यारे क्यूँ उजड़ गई बगिया मेरे मन की जा रे ... ना डाली रही ना कली अजब ग़म की आँधी चली उड़ी दुख की धूल राहों में जा रे ... मैं वीणा उठा ना सकी तेरे संग गा ना सकी ढले मेरे गीत आहों में जा रे ... Majrooh Sultanpuri uses the image of a flying bird to express something far deeper than a simple farewell. On the surface, we see Mala Sinha urging Dev Anand to move away from her life. But the song seems to suggest something more — a quiet realisation to break free. That realisation comes after a certain barrenness, an emptiness in existence. The pain strikes like lightning — perhaps a sudden flash of awareness. When one can no longer align with one’s inner harmony, and life’s song fad...
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Of Briefcases and Empty Hands

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There comes a time when the briefcase can be set down—and need never be carried again I happened to pull out an old, time-worn copy of Power  by Michael Korda that had been lying quietly on the shelf for decades. Its pages had yellowed, turned brittle at the edges, as though time itself had handled it often. Leafing through it again, I was reminded of how lightly, almost playfully, it spoke of something so serious—power—and how, at the time I first read it, I had taken it largely as satire. Perhaps I was not wrong. One passage returned with particular clarity. It spoke of the briefcase—not merely as an object, but as a symbol. In those days, one often saw managers moving purposefully through corridors, carrying heavy briefcases filled with reports, contracts, documents, and files. There was a certain reassurance in that weight, as though authority could be substantiated by paper. The briefcase, in a curious way, seemed more important than the person carrying it. It contained explan...
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When Efficiency Becomes the Highest Value

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Long before artificial intelligence, Čapek questioned what happens when efficiency becomes civilization’s highest value The Real Fear Was Never the Robots When this quote, which appeared in the paper yesterday, was forwarded by a friend, I was struck by the simple truth embedded in it. Deceptively simple, it appeared as part of the newspaper’s Contrapunto feature, a musical term borrowed here to suggest a counterpoint. “There came into the world an unlimited abundance of everything people need. But people need everything except unlimited abundance.” — Karel Čapek Several thoughts came to mind. Was Čapek speaking merely about the dangers of excess, or about something deeper — the gradual devaluation of the human being itself? I found myself returning repeatedly to the phrase “material abundance, spiritual poverty,” though even that did not seem to fully capture what the quote contained. There was a depth beneath its simplicity that compelled me to know more about the man behind it...
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The Missing Circle: Intention at the Center of Life

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Perhaps the missing circle was never outside the others, but quietly at the center all along The more I have looked at this diagram, the more I see that there is something fundamentally missing in it. That said, for decades in our professional lives we believed in it, as it brought clarity to an often chaotic life by encouraging us to distinguish between what we can control, what we may influence, what we must adapt to, and what ultimately lies beyond our reach. There was practical wisdom in this framework. It prevented wasted energy. It encouraged maturity. It taught realism. Yet today, as the intensity of working years has receded, I find myself free to look at these circles differently. The question that arose is: Is human life fully explained by control, influence, adaptation, and concern? Or is there another dimension, subtler and deeper, that these circles do not fully account for? What the framework primarily addresses is the mechanics of engagement with life. It helps us unde...
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The Familiar Theatre of Weddings

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At weddings, the bride and groom may be at the centre, but human behaviour steals the show Having attended a wedding yesterday, I couldn’t help reflecting on how predictable, and yet strangely fascinating, these occasions are from beginning to end. The proceedings usually begin with a muhurat, solemnly printed on the invitation card in bold letters, as though everyone intends to honour it with military precision. Yet, when the auspicious time actually arrives, barely half the “close family and friends” are present. This, of course, is mostly a big-city phenomenon. In smaller towns and interiors, the actual wedding ceremony still remains the central event. People arrive just in time for the exchange of garlands, bless the couple, may not even have the meal, and disappear with remarkable efficiency, sometimes within fifteen minutes. Weddings are among the few occasions where one meets long-lost relatives and old friends. Sadly, funerals are the other. Time reveals itself most dramati...
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When a Conductor Sets Aside the Baton

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Which of the great conductors did not need a baton? The question itself feels almost contradictory. The baton, after all, has long been the visible emblem of the conductor — that slender white wand through which orchestras are guided, shaped, restrained, and released. From Toscanini to Karajan, from Bernstein to Zubin Mehta, the baton became almost an extension of authority itself. And yet, while watching the Japanese conductor Seiji Ozawa, one gradually forgot the baton altogether. There it was — absent. No baton. Only hands shaping silence, emotion, and sound No sharp strokes cutting through the air, no rigid command. Instead, there were only hands moving with extraordinary grace, fingers shaping phrases almost as though they were touching something fragile and invisible. His body bent gently into the music, eyes often closed, as though he were listening from somewhere inside the composition itself. While listening to his favourite, Bach’s Air on the G String  (featured here) ...
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