Inspired by Mulk Raj Anand.

Midnight.

The festivities continued. I find myself lurking in the nooks and crannies of the recently constructed temporary bazaars, covered in vibrant layers of cloth, translucent enough for the painful bright light to pass through and tint the floors with various hues.

The smell of sweet paan curls into my nostrils, I feel the warmth of the steam let off by a huge utensil, into which a thick layer of condensed milk and chai leaves are stirred vigorously by a bony old man, with skin like tissues.

There’s a vendor, exhausted from attempting to hypnotize his foreign customers with wooden toys he bought off a young boy on the street. ‘Specially carved by the greatest of our sculptors in Rajasthan’ he says.

Truth is, they were made in a Chinese factory.

I walk towards the food counter, and all I see is a menu full of bland sandwiches and ‘Lays’.

I walk further away from the stall and find myself going towards the Lucky Draw counter.

‘Ah medam! You’ve won a beautiful doll!’

It’s a blonde, blue eyed, pink dressed barbie with ‘Amy’ written on it.

Disgusted, I give the gift to the young girl standing eagerly in the corner, in her only brightly coloured purple dress, the fire in her eyes when she grabs the doll does not comfort me.

A women shrieks ‘it’s the perfect gift for her, So modern!’

It’s some wonky strappy dress made of the worst material I’ve ever seen.

I walk further away from this fare, or bazaar, or whatever you’d like to call it.

I walk up to the beaming, gloating fat man standing at the entrance of the bazaar with gold rings on his fingers and a stupid foreign flag pin on his silk buttoned shirt.

‘They’ve done it again haven’t they. Stripped off all our cultural pride.

we’re fools.’

-J

 

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5.Taking a Leap of Faith.

I’ve been meaning to find out the true origin of my commitment, why did I decide to bring faith into my life? Why am I not convinced by athiest debaters and scientologists? How did I become a believer?

There comes a time when you start questioning everything, actually, questioning begins from a really young age. When my mother told me to pray, she said, ask for whatever you want, anything and everything. I remember secretly wishing for a candyland and the largest dairy milk in the world, I remember asking for endless toys and chocolates, and I remember, always finding what I wanted the very next day, or perhaps finding it after some time, or maybe not getting it at all.

Since my upbringing, my family was very keen on making me understand my faith, they wanted me to know why I follow my faith, why I read this and say this. The truth is, I didn’t realize that my faith never made me do something merely out of tradition or culture.

This however, took me a long time to understand, understand my faith. Because I was entangled in a culture oriented society that our faith had become a mere category of being part of this culture, because often, I dealt with people of different faiths, asking me to do things that I was never exposed to, I dealt with people of my city, who disagreed with practices that I thought were morally correct, but they didn’t.

Because I was blind to the fine line between culture and faith, because it had camouflaged so easily that my culture was followed as a flawless practice. And it was then, that I started to find flaws, that I thought were a part of my faith.

You see, it was never faith that disturbed me, it was the cultural interpretation of faith from different diversities that forced my mind into this dimension of ignorance and constant questioning. Ignorance, only because I was vulnerable to it. I still am. I am vulnerable to intolerance and ignorance and arrogance and pride. (But these qualities may not be in a person questioning faith, it was simply my state)

But this is what my faith taught me, it taught me the true meaning of my existence, and to believe, you require strong conviction. I believe in the Almighty, the Creator of the Heavens and the Earth, the most Wise, the most Just. I do not believe that I am merely a creature that developed from dust. I do not believe in theories.

Because the tides of righteousness have pulled the ocean of my brain towards a calm and serene shore. My heart feels more content with the truth of life. That I need to understand when the value of Materialism began and when Faith was forgotten.

That the world is merely an illusion, and we need to prevent ourselves from being sucked into it’s gold painted treasures.

-JalataMelon

 

 

 

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1.Oh, What did you do? *There are no Rules in Art*

Hello Everyone,

So as part of my Summer Blogger Challenge, I’ve decided to take on writing 25 posts before the end of August. This, is my first post.

A few days ago, my three little nephews came over while we had a small food party, in  my culture, food party’s are very important, and as it is a special month, they are quite common. I fell asleep at around 5pm, and woke up to a cool evening of rain and the smell of delicious food. I went to the dining table only to find my cousin and  his children running around and squealing with laughter, they met me with enthusiastic excitement (knowing that I’m the secret Batman of the city).

They walked into my room and their eyes grew with excitement at the sight of my easel, which I hadn’t used for very long, what made them even more excited, was a big, blank canvas waiting to be filled with imagination, sitting on my easel.

photo 3

“Can we colour?” my oldest nephew asked me, he’s 5 years old.

I agreed of course, and gave him and his brother a big box and said,”I present to you The big box of INCREDIBLE THINGS”, and it was hilariously adorable how their eyes widened with a loud WOAHH and opened it to peak inside.

Continue reading “1.Oh, What did you do? *There are no Rules in Art*”