Abhijit Naskar's Blog - Posts Tagged "dreamer"

For every single dreamer of the world who keeps struggling for their dream, despite being ridiculed and patronized by inferior, bronzeage apes every step of the way.

“To Those Who Mean Well
(Sonnet From A God)

Dear vermin of the greedy gutters of earth,
I permit you to live as your whims may dawn.
I just wish, expired cigarette butts wouldn’t
show the moronic audacity to advise the sun.

I don’t hate you for your life of greed and filth,
But the most you are gonna get from me is pity.
Apes who are alien to the concept of accountability,
Are no more significant than a termite community.

With all your googling expertise, how about you
spend some data researching the term “ambition”!
Know your place, my dear armchair intellectuals,
Chimps should speak only when spoken to by a human.

To you who mean well,
your death is the end of your story.
My death is the beginning of a legend.”

Narcissism has a time and place, cold detachment has a time and place. Problem is, we’ve made a world out of narcissism and detachment, while hypocritically diagnosing them as clinical on one hand, and sugarcoating them as self-care or stoicism on the other. In reality, it’s all nonsense. When people are upset at you, with no fault of your own, or when they come to take away your dream, that’s when you gotta let detachment kick on. Likewise, when shallow nitwits commit harm in front of your eyes, that’s when you gotta exercise your narcissism, and treat them like a parent would treat their child when they’ve done something wrong. Even the ugliest of animal faculty can be used for good, when wielded with conscience. It’s about using the whole of your mind, rather than giving in to all the prehistoric intellectual dualities of narcissism and altruism, or attachment and detachment. When people are helpless, to them be a christ – but when they behave heartless instead, be the light to their lies.

I just want to write –
that’s all I ever want –
to write, write and write!
The day the words stop coming,
will be my last corporeal night.

Either I shall die by an assassin’s bullet,
or I shall die on my keyboard,
but I refuse to die of old-age and disease.
Death scares those who are scared of life,
I have already lived my life in service.

I live on keyboard, I’ll die on keyboard,
Keyboard is my instrument of illumination.
Nothing short could satisfy my palate –
Give me a keyboard, I’ll give you revolution.

With my keyboard I’ve defended the meek,
With my keyboard I’ve castrated the pricks.
With my keyboard I’ve brought down dictators,
With my keyboard I’ve schooled bigoted pigs.

With my keyboard I’ve raised Gods by hundreds,
With my keyboard I’ve delivered world-builders.
With my keyboard I’ve produced hatebusters,
With my keyboard I’ve raised bulldozers.

Death is but a myth – body dies, not bulldozer;
Body is merely a vessel for the mission.
If you want your ideas to live forever,
You gotta sacrifice your life for a vision.

I never lived as body, but only as a dream –
My life is testament to the dream of united earth.
I don’t have a message, for I am the message –
Sacrifice is beacon, that illuminates the universe.

Naskar is made by Naskar alone, not an industry or benefactor – or more importantly, by family wealth. I had a roof over my head, food on the table, and clothes on my back – that was more than enough.

I started writing with literally zero dollar in my pocket. Let me tell you how it began, because for some reason, I completely forgot a crucial event of my life when I wrote my memoir Love, God & Neurons.

I once met an American tourist at a local train in Calcutta. The first thing he asked me was, had I lived in the States? I said, no. Then how come you have an American accent – he asked. Watching movies – I said. We got chatting and he told me about a book he had recently published, a memoir. I believe, this was the cosmic event that planted the thought of writing my own books in my head – I had already started my self-education in Neurology and Psychology, and I was all determined to publish research papers on my ideas, but not books. Meeting the person somehow subconsciously shifted my focus from research papers to books.

So the journey began. And for the first few years, I made no real money from my books. Occasionally some of my books would climb the bestsellers list on amazon, like my very first book did, and that would keep the bills paid for several months. Then the invitations for talks started coming, but they too were not paid in the beginning. The organizers made all the travel arrangements, and I gave the talks for free. It’s ironic and super confusing really – I remember flying business class, but I didn’t have enough money to even afford a one way flight ticket, because I had already used up my royalties on other expenses.

Today I can pick and choose which speaking invitations to accept, but back then I didn’t have that luxury – I was grateful for any speaking gig and interview request I received, paid or not. One time, I gave an interview to this moderately popular journalist for her personal youtube channel, only to find out, she never released the video publicly – she posted an interview with a dog owner instead – whose dog videos had gained quite a following on social media. You could say, this was the first time I realized first hand, what white privilege was.

Anyway, the point is this.

Did I doubt myself? Often. Did I consider quitting? Occasionally. But did I actually quit? Never. And because I didn’t quit, the world received a vast never-before seen multicultural humanitarian legacy, that you know me for today.

There is no such thing as overnight success. If you have a dream, you gotta work at it day in, day out – night after night – spoiling sleep, ruining rest, forgetting fun. Persist, persist, and persist, that’s the only secret – there is no other. Remember this – the size of your pocket does not determine your destiny, the size of your dedication does.

Eon upon eon I seek for a refuge,
Land upon land I receive but coldness.
Last I stand at your door exhausted,
Spare some warmth, for my heart freezes!

Stateless, cultless, I walk the planet.
Restless, sleepless, I live a dream.
Friendless, loveless, I brave the mission.
The being is dissolved for the beacon to beam.

Wield, I do, my conscience as compass.
Wear, I do, my backbone as battery.
Bouts of tragedy only amplifies my thunder,
Nature’s bare mockery makes miracle of me.

Borders are for hoarders, my home is the world.
Better a refugee to the sea than prisoner of the pond.

Hope is rather important to me, so much so,
I even named a title Esperanza Impossible.
But my hope is not that of wishful inaction,
my hope is a furnace of valiance untamable.

It’s more important to be the hope and help,
than have the hope that help is on the way.
No one is too helpless to lift themselves,
all you need is a purpose to define your way.

If this son of a factory worker could conquer
the world with brain, heart and empty pocket,
why do you succumb to fictitious despair,
the greatest hopes are always hopeless!

Rise, revolt and be the hope,
take no defeat as your destiny.
Till your world bathes in your light,
be the hopeless warrior of incorruptibility.

Failure is inevitable,
Defeat is optional.
Suffering is inevitable,
Self pity is optional.

Ridicule is inevitable,
Bitterness is optional.
Treachery is inevitable,
Vendetta is optional.

Heartbreak is inevitable,
Heartlessness is optional.
Ignorance is inevitable,
Bigotry is optional.

Biases are inevitable,
Prejudice is optional.
Amidst indecisive animals,
stand human inevitable!

As a teenager I only had one dream – immortality,
not fame, not wealth, but immortality.
I wanted to live on long after my body had perished,
and with sheer conviction I made it a reality.

Tomorrow if I fall asleep, I shall sleep contented,
for my mission will live on galvanizing brave veins.
My only regret is, I never got to raise a family,
it’s the bittersweet price a reformer has to pay.

Abi the person had to be sacrificed,
for Naskar the dream to become a reality.
Anyone who says, they have no regrets,
never dared to live up to their full capacity.

I offered up my youth to lift up the world,
even got dumped, while lost in world building.
My genes might die with me, not my dream –
One day, not long now, whole world will be kin.

I grew up in a 20ft/20ft one-room house,
used to walk an hour to get to school –
and although I never knew what luxury was,
I’m just grateful, I never had to starve –

I never had to wear torn clothes,
never had to experience a leaky roof,
unlike my parents, who grew up poor,
as neither of my grandfathers were good providers.

Like my father, his father was a factory worker,
but unlike my father, he could barely feed his family,
and my other grandfather was a poor priest,
who too could barely provide for his family, with
the little money he earned from religious ceremonies.

My parents grew up in abject poverty, I grew up in
modest security, and all of it has kept me grounded.
Little obscurity is essential for building character –
luxury stunts growth, obscurity establish greatness.

In the Naskar world, sonnet is not
an elitist structure of rigid rhyme and meter,
Naskar sonnet is a self-contained unit of
civilization, indifferent to literary convention.

I weave sonnets around the message,
instead of forcing the message into the sonnets.
Till you cut the cuffs of form, don’t touch my works,
if you want method and structure, pursue mathematics.

Childish eurocentric conventions are too puny
to contain the vastness of a transcendental human,
sometimes I’m Dervish, sometimes Advaita,
and the Brain Scientist keeps out the superstition.

Every mind is infinite, every mind, transcendental,
ape customs castrate the human into farm animal.
Cut the wings of a dove at birth,
and it’ll spend its life crawling like vermin.