Thursday, May 30, 2013

A Mushaaira Right Into My Bucket ...

Its going to be a first today and one off my bucket list.

My concept of a bucket list makes me laugh. It resembles the revision schedule I used to make one month ahead of final exams in school. Even in college actually.
That list had be the most loosely structured (read undisciplined) piece of planning ever accomplished.
Every day I would set out to do more, end up doing less and justify it as being optimum. Come to think of it, we do a lot of that in the corporate targets we take now too.

A buffered up, eminently justifiable, always iterative study plan where nothing I finally achieved was out of plan.
You understand it was necessary ??  .. I mean what is more worthy than the propping up of a sagging morale on deceptively simple (read artificial) crutches.

So, coming back to my bucket list. Its quite a bit like that. There is nothing on it. Everytime I think I do something that is worthy of being on it, I factor that in in invisible ink.
At any point of time its ‘kora kagaz’ ,  mine to play around with and never to feel bad about.

So instead of a ‘to do once in my life kind of a spiel’, it becomes ‘have done and you couldn’t have stopped me darling’.

It was only a few years back that I got introduced to this concept. Thanks to facebook. Someone ran updates on an awesomely exotic vacation taken and kept us abreast of a bucket list being ticked somewhere.

I sat myself down, googled furiously, munched up some calorie rich thought provoking chips and tried belting out my bucket list.

Gave myself a headache and a heavy heart. And hell ya..I always forget those darn calories.

What's the point of having a bucket list if it just makes you go back in your mind and regret what you’ve already abandoned. The pressures of time, distance, love, life get a part of you that you willingly almost always part with. No point going back to the ifs and whys if that’s done and swept.

And that is why my bucket list always inspires me to be forward looking because like me, it only resides in the here and now. The first time I ticked something of it, I didn’t even realise it meant that much to me. And now, it doesn’t, because something else means more.  But for that moment, in that space, it resided in my till then, unheard of, bucket list.

I actually opened an outfit, ran it to losses, broke my heart and piece by piece, mended it back. That’s on my bucket list. For now.
I ran a 6 episode workshop called betakkalluf on urdu poetry with stalwarts in the field. It flopped miserably. 13 people attended. All friends. I have never taught myself better. That is forever.
I heard Ghulam Ali live. In the rain.
I write hindi poetry now to my family’s disbelief, feed into their live comedy feed it.
I know how to eat a dust-thunderstorm. My dad taught me. Beat that.

And this evening, I’m going to see a mushaaira for the first time.
You make it right into my bucket.


Anonymous said...


Good Luck and very best wishes. More importantly, thank you for your honesty.

SOme time back, I had faced a tremendous challenge where I failed at something I had put in honest effort for years.
Each day when I tried to pull myself out of it, I told myself, "it is not failure that defines me, rather what I do with it"
I know this sounds like unsolicited advice, but your post really, really struck a chord.

With warm wishes


svety said...

thanks Anu ...I just write it as I feel it :) ...keep coming back ..