Roaming Eyes

Tuesday, March 19, 2013

Separating Our Sins


“All you need is love” a great man once said. Remember this.
Separation is defined as the act of keeping apart or dividing. That’s the definition in the dictionary but when it comes to separation among ourselves as human beings we forget that we separate ourselves from what we believe in and how we behave. We separate ourselves from everything. We try to create boundaries between ourselves because in some twisted way it makes sense in our heads. We view ourselves as superficial name tags instead of actually connecting ourselves to ourselves. We define ourselves based on our origin or religion or race or class but what we forget is that in actuality we are all humans. I do not understand how we continue to separate ourselves from others and also separate ourselves from ourselves.
In my life I have experienced separateness because of the places I have lived in. I have never lived in the place I was born or around it. I was brought up in many different cultures. No matter where I lived I felt like I was trying to preserve my culture while living in a different culture. These things were a lot easier to see in India because the language and food was different. When I came here to the states the issue of separateness became very lost in the smaller differences like the color of my skin or my accent. However I also perpetuated it as I used it to fit in. (kind of ironic)
It is much easier in my eyes to separate ourselves from others as we can find different things that can be different from them. We have seen these acts of separating ourselves in the stories of the Nazi commander who killed hundreds of people and went back and sang his kid to bed. But I have noticed these breaks of morals that we hold true on a daily basis. We intend to do good things but we don’t.
            Our separation leads to more separation. When we are separated within we cannot help but separate ourselves from others. However there comes a point in our lives when we realize that we are separating ourselves from ourselves and others and a drastic change in our lifestyle occurs. This transformation doesn't have to be “epic” or mind-blowing but it does happen in a fashion that if a man were to look at it carefully, it would move him          
            I don’t know what it is that makes us do things that are aligned with our morals opposed to why we don’t. But somewhere in our minds we know that point and we hide from it. Because it means sacrifice from our current lifestyles and when someone does reach that point it is usually because they have been put in places where they have hit that point enough times.
But I am really scared. It is really hard for me to think about separation and to feel like things are never going to be peaceful and calm. It is in man’s inherent nature to compete and those emotions get magnified with bad experiences. I think, however, that by slowly changing the way we treat each other we can bring that change. My fear however, is everlastingly being converted to hope. And I believe that even though we might not be able to make the whole world be in complete peace I want to know that I acted from a place of love and compassion from within my heart. A place of love. Because “all you need is love”.

I Wake Up...


My eyes open to the sound of this artificial beeping that is coming from an electric clock. Usually it’s the sound of the beeping of buses on the highway 30 feet from my bed. That is a different part of the world, I forgot. I forgot that I was on a 24 hour journey to travel all the way across the world. I forgot that my life was about to change drastically as I switched school and the country. There is the school I used to go to on the other side of this highway. There is my mother in the house that I used to live in. There is all the food that I love. Waiting till the next time I got back home. There is my little sister. I remember missing her.
            I remember the ride from DIA to Carbondale in a Colorado Mountain Express taxi cab.
My eyes are stuck to the window looking at the landscape around me. The trees are a much darker green than the ones in India. They are flashing in front of my eyes and I only get a couple of seconds to look around me. And then another different landscape. It’s really because of how fast the tires of this vehicle, which only my father and I are sitting in, are rotating. It’s kind of weird to think that he works so hard just so that my life is better. I remember not thinking this way then. We get out of the cab and we look around trying to make sense of this place. There is no obvious entrance into any building and no building is the most obvious one to enter. Our luggage stays in the cab and it goes to the hotel room in which we are going stay.
I remember not trusting another person with my belongings.
It just feels strange that I am going to call this place home for the next 4 years. I remember not calling this place home till my sophomore year.
I meet people and they hug me when I first meet them. I remember feeling really uncomfortable when they did that. I remember I never hugged anybody else other than my immediate family. And once I remember hugging my girlfriend. My ex- girlfriend now.
I notice that people are really nice to me. I remember that not being the case in India.
I notice that no one really tells you that you are wrong in a harsh way. I remember that not being the case in India.
I notice is everything is clean and organized. I remember that not being the case in India.
I notice that a lot of the girls are hot. I remember that not being the case in India.
I notice that everyone’s eyes and they are so cool in blue, green, hazel, and grey and so on and I think that my eyes are so boring. I remember thinking that.
I notice that everyone’s hair is of a different color than black. I see that most of the boys have long hair. I remember wanting long hair. I remember growing my hair out.
“Hey man, how’s it going?” says a boy with smile that last as wide as his face is.
I don’t know what do say to him as no one has ever asked me that question. I look at him and I smile and then say “it’s good” not knowing that this is what I am going to say for the next four years.
“My name is Jake” he says.
“My name is Kirti” I say it with an accent that only Apu (from the Simpsons) could mimic.
I remember watching hours of Simpsons and Family Guy. I remember learning a lot of English through watching movies.
I remember seeing the price on every single thing.
I go the dorm room that I am assigned. I remember not knowing the word dorm. Especially since its short for dormitory.
I notice that the bed is really comfortable. I remember being really comfortable in a big, nice, clean room with other students. I go to the Bar Fork. I eat. I remember thinking it was amazing food. I remember being persuaded by others to think it wasn’t so good. I go back to my room and I hear the rules about this place and thinking “why would I ever want to break them?” I remember breaking them.
I remember every moment when I have loved this place. I remember every moment where I have learnt and realized that all those flights to come here and back were worth it.
Then I go to sleep. I remember feeling scared, nervous, excited, happy, and sad all at the same time.
And now, I wake up to the sound of this artificial beeping that is coming from an electric clock and I wish that it was the beeping of the buses on that highway that woke me up.

Listen With Me


I’ve been listening,
To the glistening of the water in the pools,
Telling me we are all fools, done for
Ain’t nothing to run for in our lives,
Except for our wives,
Is that all that is left, the theft of our own lives
In front of our own eyes, with the society feeding us a bunch of lies,
Asking us to run around in circles for nothing
Aren’t our lives to be about something?
Other than just money, competition and libations
Where do passion and love fit into the equation?
Of life and our definition of success,
It ain’t about a million dollars or buying a Lexus   
Instead it’s about your brothers and sisters
Giving and getting your love, get it misters?
I don’t know where you come from
But listen. Let it hear your eardrum,
We all in the same planet
We can’t really fuck with it
Anymore, cause we aint got no time
And I aint lying
So let’s get our shit together
And I ain’t saying we will live forever
But at least your grandkids will see the day of light
And the stars at night and figure out what’s right
And please I say, lets win this fight
At the end of the day…..

First Sail


The rain slaps my face as though it is reminding me to stay awake. Not the kind of stay awake slap that says stop sleeping but the kind that says “you’re alive! Live your life.”

It’s easy to start thinking of a beach in Belize, where just the thought of the warmth of the sun somehow makes you warmer. That mysterious girl sunbathing in her bikini gets you hot...you think how sexy she would look bringing you a coconut to cool you off!
 But the rain carrying winds sort of act like Viagra on your hair and all of it seems to be as erect as the ads claim they would be.......the hair ofcourse..... However, trying to maneuver this 70 ton boat with giant sheets as an energy source is quite exciting. Truly a force of mother nature can move this sloop effortlessly..... Never have I experienced this but somehow i feel i was born to be here.....it doesn’t overwhelm me. In fact nothing does, it all seems exciting. Maybe it was written u think.... One of the harshest first sails but that just makes it even more fun. Everything is wet but it’ll get better. I am slightly under prepared but that’s just me. Night falls…..the moon shines proudly ruling over the dark secrets of the ocean...The sound of the water and the motion of the boat as I sleep remind me of my mother’s lap. The sailboat is an amazing thing.

Ajja Ajji’s House


Red gates look alarming to those who are unfamiliar but stand for passion and love. And this is exactly what you will find inside this compounded home. I have spent all my summers in this place since birth and know every square inch of this home. This elegant structure is painted cream/off-white with dark brown stripes in the groves that run horizontally a foot apart from each other. There are three small steps with a white railing lending to the orange door with round designs on it. There is a custard apple tree to give shade for guests while they wait outside. It is now tiled with 2 feet by 2 feet square limestone sheets on the outside verandah. Once I remember playing cricket in the red basalt that existed. Everything changes over time. The back of the house has a coconut tree that was born the day I was. He lets me climb up him even though it hurts him. to give him company is a fig tree and a rose bush. These three get along really well my grandpa used to say. A little farther is another group of friends. A lemon tree, a tree with spicy leaves and a tree with holy leaves on it. I don’t know their names, still.         
Now there is a water tank that is covered up after my sister fell in and almost drowned. That was scary. The house is surrounded by walls on all four sides even though they don’t really keep anyone out. On another side there are three plants with the most beautiful smelling flowers. My grandma told me that since they are white they stand for purity and peacefulness. The terrace on top is not only a place for solitude but the funnest game I have played. To try and balance on the edge, with the wind antagonizing you. The risk was great and not falling wasn’t an option.
There is also a giant rock place accordingly by my grandparents so that when any water fell on it trees would receive it. This rock has been used for years to wash clothes of those who have lived in the house. The dirt under your feet sort of slides when you are wearing footwear. But I don’t know much about wearing footwear in that house. But what I do know is that when it rains the house smells of the best possible combination of water and earth. The bricks that mark the boundary between tiles, the human world, and grass, dirt, tress, the world of endless possibilities turn blood red.
17 summers I have spent there for about 4 months a year. 1.3 years all together but I can tell you which rock belongs where and what the name if every bird that has ever lived there or that the taste of a custard apple doubles in its deliciousness when at home. Or when you drink the coconut water it makes feel like you are in heaven. Or that when the wind started blowing I watched my friends dance with their long branches and offer me fruits.
But like I said earlier, everything changes over time. My grandparents cannot live there anymore. And now knowing that this place will never be the same I must accept this change as well. We share a common destiny; we are all subject to change. And I will never be able to express how much I will miss my coconut tree.