From a location to absolute dislocation

The blog got resurrected yesterday, after two long years.

For those not familiar with Urdu, 'nawa-e-sarosh' means 'whispers of angel'. For those familiar with the language, the attribution to poet Mirza Ghalib is immediate.

The transition is unsettling. Jhumritilaiya was a comfortable space. It had history, both as a place and as a myth. It was tangible, and hence, materially and intellectually comforting. The place was a readymade template for imagination, with its diverse associations as well as mythology. It was familiar.

'Nawa-e-sarosh' is a new territory. Like one of those forbidden rooms in a forgotten castle, this blog suddenly becomes, to coin a word, a 'strangeland'. The thoughts in my mind suddenly resemble the abandoned street urchins who care a damn about a direction or purpose. They are enigmatic and attractive. I try to pin them down to an idea or a tyrannical reason, and they escape the mind like the blushing beloved who escapes the seductions of her lover.

I have little choice but to continue to woo the elusive thought in this space.