Outsider

From the Nobel Prize Banquet Speech of Albert Camus,

For myself, I cannot live without my art. But I have never placed it above everything. If, on the other hand, I need it, it is because it cannot be separated from my fellow men, and it allows me to live, such as I am, on one level with them. It is a means of stirring the greatest number of people by offering them a privileged picture of common joys and sufferings. It obliges the artist not to keep himself apart; it subjects him to the most humble and the most universal truth. And often he who has chosen the fate of the artist because he felt himself to be different soon realizes that he can maintain neither his art nor his difference unless he admits that he is like the others. The artist forges himself to the others, midway between the beauty he cannot do without and the community he cannot tear himself away from. That is why true artists scorn nothing: they are obliged to understand rather than to judge. And if they have to take sides in this world, they can perhaps side only with that society in which, according to Nietzsche's great words, not the judge but the creator will rule, whether he be a worker or an intellectual.

Suggested Rhythm: "Yeh mehlon, yeh tadkon", Pyaasa

Alice Alice !

"But I don't want to go among mad people," Alice remarked.

"Oh, you can't help that," said the Cat: "We're all mad here. I'm mad. You're mad."

"How do you know I'm mad?" said Alice.

"You must be," said the Cat, "or you wouldn't have come here."

Alice didn't think that proved it at all: however she went on. "And how do you know that you're mad?"

"To begin with," said the Cat, "a dog's not mad. You grant that?"

"I suppose so," said Alice

"Well, then, " the Cat went on, "you see a dog growls when it's angry, and wags its tail when it's pleased. Now I growl when I'm pleased, and wag my tail when I'm angry. Therefore I'm mad."

"... thought Alice, and she went on. "Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"

"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.

"I don't much care where –" said Alice.

"Then it doesn't matter which way you go," said the Cat.

"– so long as I get somewhere," Alice added as an explanation.

"Oh, you're sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough."

the chariots enter Ayodhya

This is Janakapuri in the kingdom of Mithila. Janaka,the lionized king of our times presides upon his empire from here. The cool,dry,fertile city was bustling with Brahmins and soothsayers and chariots from other countries. The wedding of the king's daughters were being planned and the lobbyists and priests from other kingdoms had pounced upon Janakapuri to win the girls' hand. There were demonstrations of chivalry everywhere with hundreds of kings praising themselves on the streets,in the palaces and in front of the two princesses. The elder princess had hidden herself in an earthen jar as the uncertainity of the whole exercise was too much for her. I met her on Vishwamitra's advice. I talked to her from outside the earthen jar and she talked from inside. She had a uneasy yet uncaring tone. Finally she came out of the earthen jar with a curious smile on her face. Sita was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen,not that I had seen many,but she was different. Her careless yet intimate tone, her what may come sense of wit. Sita wasn't fair or foolish like the other princesses, Vishwamitra explained that saying Sita was the adopted daughter of Janaka. I had heard Vishwamitra's aides joking that she was originally from the Pulastya dynasty of down south and they would one day claim her. I had overheard soothsayers saying, she had bad luck in her horoscope and Janaka was rushing her into a marriage to get the bad luck off him. But these stories of lesser, cowardly, gold-seekers did not matter to me anymore. My soul was filled with her careless voice and I wished she cared for no one but me.

Janaka and my father, who had rushed from Ayodhya were all too happy with the turn of events. We the four Raghava princes married the four princesses of Janakapuri. Janaka embraced me and told that he understood who I really was and my purpose in life. I didnt understand a word of what he said but was too busy winking at the girls to think more about that. Sadly Vishwamitra bid farewell at Janakapuri. I had learnt so much from him,he was my Guru and I liked him a lot despite his angry hand. Before continuing his journey into the Himalayas,he whispered to me that he understood the lakshya -the aim - of my being born and he was happy to have played a part in that. He told me, as his part in my life was done, we would never see each other again. I was sad about that, but Vishwamitra always talks in circles and I did not think much about it after that.

Our trip back to Ayodhya with the girls was easy with the chariots and aides except for this strange angry person we met on the way. He had the same name as mine but the similarity ended there. Everything about him was angry, he seethed anger from every pore of his body. The birds clamoured and storms hit whenever he spoke, I felt the earth itself shaking a few times. This huge man walked in circles around the chariots shouting at Vasistha the sage and my father, threatening to repeat some fearful thing he had done before. The bow he had in his hand was untied, I lifted it and tied it properly. The man calmed down and came towards me. Father thought he was about to kill me and started crying like he did before Vishwamitra. The man looked at me in the eye and said he was waiting for this moment for a long time and now his purpose in life was over, he added that he understood who I really was and was giving all his blessings and powers to me. He said he was going to the Mahendra hills and thanked me for taking up the burden of preserving Dharma off his shoulders. As I think more about it, the last few days had been very confusing indeed. But with Sita around, nothing else really matters.

The chariots entered Ayodhya to celebrations and fanfare. Twelve years of peace and love descended on Ayodhya,the unassailable city.