Monthly Archives: November 2010

>Ethanasia – To Live, Or, Not To Live?

>I happened to watch a brilliantly crafted movie today (urgh, yesterday now), Guzaarish, directed by one of the finest directors of Bollywood, Sanjay Leela Bhansali. All I had to say even when the movie was just half-way through was, “This is one bloody awesome movie!” And well, it’s the finest movie I have myself ever seen in Bollywood… Stupendous performance from Hrithik Roshan, his best role by far; a simple and sober but momentous role played by Aishwarya Rai Bachchan, as his elegant nurse; a really strong storyline; great supporting roles from Suhel Seth, Shernaz Patel and Aditya Roy Kapoor, among others; brilliantly written dialogues, each conveying something exceptional, each which says something between the lines; mild but joyful chemistry between the leads; all-in-all make this movie a really great one. I even go on to say that I personally think, this movie is better than ‘3 Idiots’ which is considered to be the best as of right now… This is one such movie which makes me believe that there ‘are’ a few Indians who can make such fantabulous movies which can compete with of the best Hollywood flicks… This one’s of that caliber! Undoubtedly.

Won’t scratch the outline of the movie here, as I know many of my regular readers (well, those who I know read my blog) haven’t seen it yet. Don’t want to spoil their fun when they watch it… But yeah, there’s one point of the movie, the part from where its title comes that I want to talk about…

Ethan Mascarenhas (Hrithik Roshan) has a desire to let go off his life, after suffering from paralysis and being a quadriplegic for 12 long years, legally, by filing a petition in the court for euthanasia, or in simpler terms, mercy killing. Somehow, suicide, as it is called informally, is one such sensitive topic which has people considering it as a taboo. Probably, in most cases, it is, too. But this isn’t about all those cases… This is about those few special ones…!

Running back into time, I had my first acquaintance with this phrase ‘mercy killing’ way back when I was 13 or 14. I remember one of my history teachers telling me about it and what it meant in one of her lectures. At that very time, and since that very time, I did end up thinking about what relevance it had, about how correct it is as a concept, and stuff… Though, the real catalyst for today’s post was this movie where this ideology, desire is bravely displayed and talked about, I can’t deny that my past score with this cognizant affair…

The first time we hear about it, I can bet anyone of us has this idea, opinion about it as a completely, blankly ridiculous urge occurring out of a moment of insanity. But (there’s always a ‘but’)…

Imagine this for yourself… Facing a deadly painful disease, disorder and being practically unable to do anything… Living everyday on the basis of someone else… Right from the basic daily-care chores to the complex stuff… Everything! And over it, going through massive amounts of pain and sadness… Feeling uneasy, worthless…

The first reaction that comes by if we actually imagine ourselves in such a situation and then return to sanity is ‘Shit!’

There. Just there. It somehow makes sense to me, that death by choice, if the person is mentally stable and sane, should probably be allowed in a few cases. Undoubtedly.

What kind of death would we prefer for our loved ones, passing through such physical or mental trauma? Those for whom we care about?
Option 1: Natural, painful, stretched death. The extrapolated death. Sadness in the eyes of the person who is going to another world, helpless feeling you face, unending distress.
Option 2: Silent death when the person is happy about being around every person who cares about him/her. No pain, no distress.

I know it’s not very difficult to decide here. But, when it comes to pragmatically living it, we all, would surely not agree to the second option. Why would we even agree to it? We would lose someone who matters to us, earlier than we would lose otherwise… We would want to believe that some miracle would take place… Something that would change everything, again to normalcy… Even after knowing that miracles occur once in a million and we want to believe that this case is that one in the million…

Human tendency of hope and belief. No denying it at all… But, for one moment, if we selflessly think about what the other person is going through and how legitemate would we be if we forced them to live, despite their will, going through all the pain they do… Barely justified, that we would be…

I don’t say that there needs a serious amendment in the Constitution Of India, or the basic humanitarian principles. Neither do I say that death by desire is justified… I just say that there have to be those exceptions, exclusions we need to make and let go… Hoping that our dear one, would be free of the immense misery they are going through… Pretty fair, too, I guess.

There’s this one dialogue in the movie which is delivered by Ethan’s on-screen mother (Nafisa Ali) which struck the chord of my heart the most (edited), “Whose life is it anyway? This isn’t my life, or your life, Mr. Prosecutor, or anyone who is sitting here, neither is it yours, Your Honour, that we can feel the pain Ethan feels. It’s his life and no one other than him can feel that pain and thus it’s rather ‘just’ his right to decide.”

Simply tells us how our life that exists is just ours, above and before anyone else. That’s it. Our life. And so, it’s our right to decide, To Live, Or, Not To Live, euthanasia or living, provided, the pre-requisite of the subject being emotionally stable, is satisfied…

Well, that’s just my view…

To Live, Or, Not To Live?

Adios!

P.S.: The title isn’t a spelling mistake. Those who have watched the movie will know why it isn’t so.

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>Lost. II

>Life takes us to different places. Some seen, some unseen. Some new, some old. Some happy, some sad. Some adventurous, some pleasant. Some lively, some silent. Some pretentious, some real. Some different, while rest seem just the same…

And through all this, we can’t deny the fact, that we all, every once in a while, feel lost. Not knowing where we are, not knowing where to go, not knowing from where we began, not knowing where we will end up, not knowing what will supposedly happen with us, not knowing anything. For that one moment, we feel the darkness completely surround us, take us down, break us apart, tear us to pieces. It may be in the next street, a new town/city, a new locality, an unknown crowd, sometimes, even within yourself.

Whenever anyone says ‘Get lost’ to me, jovially, I can’t help having a smile to myself. Remembering how I felt the last time I actually felt lost. The last time when I felt utterly helpless, for those few milliseconds, the chill through my spine, the agony in my thoughts, the pain in my eyes, the desire to be around someone who is just called ours, who can take us out of there easily, safely.

Even in life, just as in travels and expeditions, we feel lost. Lost within our thoughts, within our own selves. And we are desperate to turn to light, wherever, however we may find it. Stream out of the darkness, move out of the pain, strike through life, get going to our destination. To live the dream, to feel victorious, to feel satiated. But once there, we do, always think about that feeling of lost again, once. And then, just when we want to know how we felt lost, within a moment, our thoughts get diversified, even before we know. We can’t make that out. We can’t feel the difference of, neither where we have been, nor from where we stemmed up. We may feel this feeling for those minuscule time period, but, that leaves on us a lasting impression that most of the times, which even we fail to realize.

I have indeed been fascinated by this power of the dark, to hold us victimized, slaves, even. Pretty much one of the most powerful things I have ever witnessed. Invariably. It can create wonders, work marvels, turn tables, break barriers, give someone life and what not! But again, it can also create a ruckus. The despair, change the way of life, turn someone evil, contemplate suicide, succumb, tear apart. All of it.

The most compelling kind of darkness is the one within ourselves, that we fail to rise from, incidentally, because we can’t ever defeat oneself. It’s a one-on-one battle, which never ends, the battle between the good side and bad side of ourselves. The way we are, through what life has made us. Either we find our way through the maze, or we shudder to it’s complexities.

Throughout this phase of transition, we feel covered by a layer of uncertainty surrounding us. Somehow feared, afraid of losing. It’s that moment when we know what defeat would mean to us and we know we can’t afford to lose, for our own good. But some other times, we do lose. To ourselves, and bring in a negative change. Adjust, adapt. Accept it.

While this turns out, we don’t really lose hope of standing up once again, do we? The hope and belief to be loved and trusted again. To be able to stand up, soar into the sky, from the hallows, like a phoenix would… Somehow, still, life. It’s just the same person who once got wilted in front of defeat. The same person who gave-in to the dark.

Life, existence, living isn’t always a sore ride. It pretty much turns better once we tear apart and rise from every thing that holds us behind. Be it the past, relationships, guilt, events, everything. Just when we feel we are ready enough to ditch the dark loss and turn to the bright again. Just then…

We may have to take a few harsh decisions, a few tough steps, take a step backward, halt, ask for help, leave out a few things that we feel are important, just because we want to be where it would mean. In light, where the joy-ride commences. Just there…

Until then, we are all just, lost…

(Reader’s note: Less than 24 hours ago, I wrote a poem with the title ‘Lost.’ and it may surprise you why it comes up as an article here. Well, indeed, as someone pointed it out to me, the poem, didn’t make much sense to the reader. It didn’t flow well. So, that someone, subtly told me that poetry wasn’t my forte, which I indeed agree upon. It was just a few lines that came to my mind which made me write it then. I guess I will stick to paraphrases from next time. But just in case, after reading this, if my poem makes ‘some’ sense, I would like to be informed. Regards.)

Until next post…


>Lost.

>

Through darkness, into the light,
That’s where I long to go,
Within myself, away from the world,
Somewhere beneath, to really know.
Mist surrounds, wherever belief dies,
Heart shatters to feel you cry,
Every moment when you’re not around,
Somewhere lost, in each try.
Never been so famished to win before,
Or to look at your eyes so pure,
Thoughts vivid, restless sleep,
Somewhere to find, a sweet encore.
For bringing in life, for feeling the love,
To steal the pain, whatever it cost,
Faith to brighten, all gray specks,
Somewhere in heaven, just to be lost.

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Poem number 4. Why, how and every question that may pop into your head is a question for me too. But, still, the show must go on…

Ciao!


>When I First Saw You…

>When I first saw you,
I never even gave it a thought,
That I could fall for you,
But, to me, happiness was something you brought.

Every moment spent with you,
Brought nothing but satisfaction to me,
Every word spoken by you,
Felt like a new world altogether.

Lonely nights faded into bliss,
Love took over hate and envy,
Ecstasy draped all around the mist,
And I came to terms with joy.

When I first saw you…
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The first poem I penned down… Wrote it more than a year back… And the reason it comes up today… Well… Let’s just say…

When I First Saw You :)…