Literature: An Analogy with society

Here is a blog post written by a friend of mine. He is a student of English Literature at Aligarh Muslim University and has a versatile personality. From writing to playing basketball to trekking the trodden paths of the mountain. Here is a blog post by SHubham Sharma. Hope you guys enjoy it.

We have been studying literature since we were toddlers, perusing each and every aspect of Literary terminology. However, we are still unable to comprehend the exact meaning of this term “literature”. If we carefully perpend this word, it gives haphazard obscurity. Albeit late, but I have understood the meaning of literature. Literature for me is the connection of experiences. In other words it is a quintessential confluence of various ideas and ideals, amalgamated into one. For example: if we consider the circumstances prevailing in Elizabethan period, Renaissance and the Romantic Period, writers had sundry experiences and they penned down them. Now, it is Literature that has intermingled all those experiences and connected them with one string. 
Unfortunately we have confined “our” literary knowledge solely to books. But real cognizance of literature comes from the society, which decides the literature of the sphere it covers. For most of us, literature is just a subject not a delight. Studying literature as it is meant to be studied, hones our grey matter and generates conscience plus conviction. It makes us a better being and a good teacher as well. My English professor said a very beautiful hence introspective line about teachers, “A good teacher does not make good students rather a good teacher makes better teachers”. And for being a good teacher you must have the possession of conscience and conviction.
 As a student, one must have two dreams: one is getting knowledge and the other is getting character. Mark Twain’s quote finds relevance in this context. He says, “The two most important days in your life are, the day on which you were born and the day on which you find out why”. That day had certainly came in my life when i opted for Literature. I felt a certain excitement. I could fancy myself with the greatest of ease. Ignorance was bliss for me before, but later it was my remedial weakness. 
For me Literature acted as a mould in which it shaped my clayey mind to tackle life problems with ingenuity. Literature has turned my idle yesterday to a delightful tomorrow. 

-SHubham SHarma

Mysterious Misconceptions.

For he loved the mystery in me

Trending fashion seems contagious

Contagious to the level of infecting the pure social stigma of love

Love having been defined through time and back

Back with the mystery in your beloved’s eyes

Eyes that were mysterious through the era of romantics it may seem

Seems the power of love feeling void in contrast to that of mystery

Mystery is the dame that every heart ached for, went the saying

Sayings complicating the simplicity of relationships in today’s world

World where the beauty of connecting through open hearts got lost

” Lost Cause”, is the prefix or suffix the word “relationship” holds now

Now is the time to open up your body and soul,

To wake up and kiss him on the lips, as in the old times it goes

Let the mystery be only in the eyes of your beloved and not be a hovering cloud in your relationship

Love him as he loves you, open and wide

Wide like the unhidden ocean beneath thine beloved’s eye.



Of Thunderstorms and Splendid Skies.

The forces that drive thunder to strike and screech through the smouldering sky is the same force that forces it to later smudge and blend into the night like that smudge of a blend in mascara on a girls face wearing a scarlet blush which compliments it. 

The thunderstorm is scary,No doubt about that. But in midst of the scorching heat and swooning bodies falling here and there and here, under the charms and spells of the sun, feel relieved when the thundering sound approaches and the clouds cover the blue of ṭhe sky and turn it into grey and finally a shade of black. The mighty yet not so mighty of God’s creation look up in awe and relief thinking it’s about time that their prayers have been answered. 

Rain has always had it’s way with humans. Humans who have a heart that connects to that of nature. The rain drops touch the lithosphere and dance at the touch of the ground as if their tinny droplet bodies are caressed after ages and their thirst finally quenched. It is in almost the same way humans dance to their tune. I look out of my bedroom window and I see girls dancing their hearts out with every touch of rain that is setting their bodies ablaze in fits of laughter at the thundering sound of the invisible magic wand being waves somewhere afar behind the cloak of the night.

Now looking at the trees I have this different observation. Where as for the humans, thunderstorms are a chance to create more noise and chaos and laughter,for the tress it’s a time of whispering and trespassing the boundaries that are otherwise always created. I see them bending this way and that and hobbnobbing together as if whispering to each other the stories that their hearts have kept locked up until that very moment.These storms bring them close but as it is , attachments come with a cost. Too much snuggles and cuddles and whispers are out of bound and if they try to cross that line the result is fatal. As fatal as imminent death caused due to unacceptable bending and breaking. 

Lifting my thoughtful gaze from the ground I again look outside the window. The storm has ceased. It’s calm. Everything back to the way it was and the eventful hours or could have been minutes, who could tell, have passed away. Solace and order has taken it’s authority back after much of a battle. To conclude all Is well under the splender of the dark dark night but I see a sapling sprout and I wonder … But Ah well that’s a story for another time, under different skies , under different shades of the night. 

Grey Is The God of Blurred Lines.

It has always been a debatable argument that in what line spectra do majority of us lie. People are a lot many shades of VIBGYOR. If you really think of it they are a lot many shades of a lot many colors, but mostly humans lie either in the black or white arena of the spectra. Or at least that is what they would like to believe.

But the hard hitting realty is just like a big grey boulder which pulls you out of your comfort zone and you realize that there is no black or white but only grey.

The most honest lot that lies in the black and white, right and wrong, accepting and rejecting category is the kids. I mean think of it this way, they are the only people who will tell you to your face that you are an ugly human being or that you are beautiful. They get the most honest of the vibes and always stick to their white or black.

The most grayish people, and I don’t mean Christian grey sorts of grey but, the diplomatic, the cant-pick-a-side, the sulk in shadow kind of grey are us adults, or at least that is what you call people who no longer want to be a part of an honest reality. We pick grey because it’s easy; it’s easier to simply be the crowed rather than a face in the crowed.

Here the argument could be that we always take a stand for what we believe in. Thinking of it this way the shade grey is rather deceptive. Grey , you might think is like walking on straight line but actually there is always this probability of it to switch, it goes from light to dark and back to light within a short span.

I say, grey is the god of blurred lines because it is where it’s the most easy to get lost, to lose yourself in the process of blending in. Black and white is challenging and abstract, the blur of grey is easy and beautiful.

Snowy Rahi

Wake Up!

What do you do when your heart is not at peace with your mind?

I mean I am literally waiting for a reply from the other side of the screen, from a stranger or a friend, just to calm this tornado which is building up inside me.

If I think things through then I would conclude that these disastrous feeling are not the outcome of a sudden outrage or a sudden punch that hit me hard in my stomach waking me up. These emotions have been building up and a lot of things rather events have been contributing in feeding my restless mind. I mean no matter how or what I read, no matter who I talk to, no matter what I watch, the hunger of my mind is just increasing by the hour.

I am sure all of you are well aware of the catastrophes that have surrounded us. I mean if you haven’t then perhaps you are the people who lay on the line of ‘ ignorance is blissful’ , at least you get to sleep in your warm beds not having to worry about the blood that is being spilled on the distant regions of this world. Not having to worry about the pillows soaked with tears or towels used to wipe blood. You are free from the nightmares of hearing a child scream, whose shrill cry turns into oblivion under the falling of the roof which was supposed to protect her. You are at peace because you do not know the compromising situations a female has to face because she owns a vagina and a man with that extra extension of his flesh feels that he is entitled to punish her for the mistakes she never committed. But because she is a woman she has to be punished in some way or the other so the man might as well get some hideous sort of pleasure out of it.

Are the blinds on your windows so thick that you can’t hear the sirens outside?

Okay so I watched this movie long- long back. And it portrayed how the Jews were burned alive in gas chambers. How in the name of concentration camps they were burned like wood. Well there used to be these sirens whose sound was generated by the power created from those burning bodies. Of lately I have been hearing these sirens, the sound coming from somewhere at the back of my hostel. I know that these sirens mean something else but then my mind can’t help but co relate the two. And it’s because people decided not to pull the blinds off their windows the world witnessed a holocaust. Perhaps the world is not yet pleased and wants more.

It could be the event of Palestine or perhaps the Orlando gay club event? It could have been Syria or was the new coined term “Islamophobia” is the thing that triggered these emotions? It could have been the fact that the girls in my institution, that claims to be an English medium, can very well write English but cannot converse in the same and feel ashamed when they must.  I mean who am I to say anything right?

I get to choose what I do in my life. I choose what I study, who are my friends, I can talk fluently in English, I have a loving family, people always surround me, I am cosy in my house safe under its roof and I am never alone. Who am I to say anything on the matters that do not concern me! How can I be a muslim woman and yet stand for and with what I feel is morally right? This is absurd! Right? They will probably use the term “modern Muslim” but perhaps they forget that the wife of Prophet (S.A.W) was the most modern lady of her times. She was an independent business woman and rejected many a marriage proposals till she finally found the one.

It pains me when I feel my hands are cut and I can’t do a thing. Then I open my laptop and start writing. I write because it helps. I write because I don’t know what else to do. I see pain, trouble; hate oh so much HATE around me that I want to scream and pull everyone and ask them to wake up! Wake up before it’s too late. Wake up before there is no scope for you to witness a sunrise that causes your awakening. Wake up and realize that the blood in your veins is the blood that is being spilled. I know it’s a lot of politics and some might say it’s for a greater cause and we humans are just tiny nimsickle particles who should not hinder in such huge matters.  

I could be called a creep by many when I say I smell blood when I step a foot outside. I don’t like the world I am living in. I don’t accept to be helpless and believe that it’s God’s will because trust me no God will cause destruction of its own creation. Destruction to such a level that it cannot be mended! It’s the sick creation of the creator that is willing to cause a physical, psychological and environmental damage that will take years to recover.

 I am waking up but I don’t like the truth that my eyes are witnessing.


Conflicting Love.

Things get really complicated if you read. I mean you start comparing and wanting those characters to come to life! For me , being a  bibliophile, I would want an ” AGUSTUS WATERS” to appear magically out of the blues and say ” It will be a pleasure getting my heart broken by you” . Or if you don’t read but you do follow up soap operas like “FRIENDS” then all you wish for is YOUR Chandler Bing to appear in the coffee house that you often visit, waiting to become friends then best friends and finally lovers. Unfortunately life is not a fairytale and prince charming don’t appear wearing an Armour to protect you from this savage world.

Living in the era where love is often replaced by lust and warm kisses are turning into a one time hook up culture, it is deadly to be an old school romantic.


Is it too much to seek a friend in a lover ?

To want to go crazy in their presence and not to be judged once.

To wear pajamas, sweatshirts or a beautiful evening gown and each time he has an honest love filled remark for you. Be it “you look awful” ( but full of giggles, followed by tight hugs and cheek kisses. Making you know that you are still adored.)  Or ” Damn , seeing you in that just takes my breath away ” ( with a lot more of love in his voice than lust, with a notation of him being proud of the human that you are  individually before you are his or anybody else’s) 

To stand by your love against all foolish convictions that the society has to put up. ” That girl has too many boys hovering around her – must be a slut”, ” that boy smokes, what values was he brought up with” or even better ” She wears short cloths, she must have no character what so ever”. To stand by your love against them. To accept your love the way it is and not wanting to be influenced by how would society want it to be. 

To be her friend more than anything.For She would always turn to a friend when her heart is at a loss of words or her soul is shattered on the ground. She always turns to her friends when she wants to implement a stupid idea or have the most random est of 2am unplanned coffee breaks. Be there, listen like a friend. Be there, support her through it all. BE THERE for if she has to be someone else in front of you just to please you, she will lose herself and you will lose the one love you fell for. Be there because she will be there as well.

To shout and scream and be loud will push her away. Talk, but the way you would want her to talk to you as well. Would your petty little male ego bear it if she did the same? Trust me, she has the shrillest and loudest of voice. Don’t let that Wind turn into a tornado.

Love her the way she loves you.Being romantic is never old school. Be with her for who she is and not what you can turn her into. Fall in love with her mind before exploring her body. If you still think you can respect the lady in front of you after knowing all of her, only then my friend move ahead because no love is satisfactory if it has the tag of TERMS AND CONDITIONS applied to it.




Checklist of a Restless Soul.

  • When in the midst of a crowded street even the loudest of sounds turn into oblivion due to the conflicting voices of your mind and heart , know that your soul is restless.
  • When even after pouring your heart out into another vessel. Hoping that the liquid of restlessness will flow out from this vessel of a body into the other and give you some relief. Sadly it is a lost case.
  • When the pressure of the known and the unknown gets too much to bear and you know not what will quench the thirst of your soul. You lie awake at 3 am in your warm bed that sends the coldest of shivers down your spine. 
  • When the tears escape your eyes at the most unexpected moments and wiping away just increases the intensity of their cascade. 
  • When the most unknown yet genuine of touch makes you want to burst like a bubble and engulf in their warm and welcoming aura, leaving behind your dark, restless and unwelcoming one.
  • When nothing seems wrong if it will sooth your crushed soul and yet every wrong thing pricks you worse than before. That never ending conflict between pleasure and morality. 
  • When all you want to do is cut out the people who have failed you, without them knowing that they have.
  • When self harm looks as a bright prospective and facades seem to be coming to rescue.
  • When the world is busy with playing its part in your existence and you are trying to shut it out with all your might.
  • When all is said and done and yet your soul craves to get its last flight.