Mad or What???

Running amok

2011-06-16T02:59:00.000-07:00

Maya is lying on her back in the assembly-hall of an old school. The floor is cold but she finds comfort in it. It's early morning and the lights are off. Her eyes are shut, and her body is still. But she can feel the faint moisture of the impending rains. She loves monsoons. It symbolizes carefree-ness. She thinks about the fact that she never owned an umbrella. She never even used one. What a waste of a surprise shower of love!

She thought of the school - abuzz with kids running around, their parents animatedly discussing the tuitions and the extra music class for extra-curricular certificates, the rising prices of school uniforms and the teacher who was "soo strict na!".
Somehow she recollected exactly how it felt to run amok - to be chased and chase. To really be fearless about slipping. And the exact moment she actually slipped, got badly bruised and had to be rushed to the hospital for stitches.
Of course, she hadn't understood any of this, then. She was infatuated by the boy who was chasing her, and was kinda glad that he had a role to play in a seemingly major event of her life at that point (praying parents and kins, more blood than she had ever seen, getting consolation from unknown people).

She was lost in thought when suddenly someone nudged her shoulders.
She opened her eyes and tried to get up but couldn't. There was a man staring at her. He was dressed in a dirty off-white overcoat. He looked like a doctor who had long lost the compassion for his patient, or definitely didn't show it. He whispered something in her ear - "You have less than a day. What do you want to do today?"
She panicked. Oh god! What a task - how does one cram "as much life as possible" into one day? She wondered if she would be better off without this information.
But now, what could she summon from her life that represented the best? Should she just get a couple of glasses of Capirinska and feel light-headed, or perhaps up the ante a little bit and float on some clouds?
Or may be deep love and belonging. Yes, that's what counts. At least that's what she had read.

She asked the doctor for family and boyfriend and friends and all the people she could remember. Well, some didn't answer calls from unknown numbers. Some were too far away and had important client calls. A few arrived.
Her boyfriend met her first. He smiled at her and told her that "everything would be okay"... she was reminded of the hallmark get-well-soon cards with pink flowers and deep messages. She then thought of the cards that played a squeeky song when you opened them, and how much she hated them. He suddenly burst into tears. Do money bills soak water? She had never really tried that - but they did seem to get wet in the rains. Should she offer him her wallet to wipe the tears? She didn't have better use of her bills anymore. Such a weird utility for bills that she felt an impulse to write to the RBI.
This wasn't good. This certainly was not something she should do on her last day.

May be go to the gym. Or run. She liked running. And climbing. She loved the adrenalin rush that built up slowly during a run - and how it hit her when she ran beyond the point where she felt she just couldn't run anymore - the feeling of having conquered her physical limits by her mental awareness. That would be nice. Especially in the rains. She saw a storm building up. She asked the doctor for running shoes. There weren't any. He gave her the are-you-kidding-me look. And the hospital didn't seem to need to stock them. She thought of a niche segment for Nike to cater to - "last minute running shoes... for those in their last minutes... guaranteed to last a lifetime".

She felt like a loser. She shut her eyes... and was immediately drawn towards sleeping. She could do that, and if all went well, she could do what she loved the most (duh! why didn't she think of that) - dream!
She was dreaming blissfully when she was woken up again. This time with a sharp kick. She sprang up.

This time there were several men. They weren't particularly muscular like she had imagined the goondas to be. She realized just how bollywood-ized she was. Of course the real-life goondas don't have a scar on their face or bodies that put Salman to shame or a paan-filled mouth speaking a gory-yet-hilarious one-liner.... they are men like those she passes on the street. They glare at her and tell her that they are waiting for "dada" and he should be there in 4 hours.
She can do what she wants until then.

She finds this weird. It's more bollywoodish that she thought. Something's definitely wrong. They were letting her off the hook for some hours?
She brushes aside the meta thoughts and thinks of other adrenalin-pumping things.
She gets a clear "no-brainer" answer. But how could _she_ ask for it? Sure she's read about how it can be awesome, especially with the knowledge that one has such limited time. But her fake sense of 'dignity' and propriety get the better of her.

May be she could read a book. There was an unfinished book lying on her bathroom window. Her potty book. It came highly recommended. It was not her favorite category- self-help books never cut it for her. But she loved herself too much to not try to help herself.
She tried recollecting the "Seven Habits". She realized the last thing she had read was "Live like there's no tomorrow".

She found that strange. A little too strange. A little too surreal.
She looked at the men with the startle of an epiphany in her eyes. They smiled knowingly. What a coincidence!
And then the men blurred... all into one. Their frail bodies merged to form a single body with a dirty, off-white coat. More smiles.

She panicked more. What was she doing? Where was she? Is this the end? Or post-end?

The lights went on. Surprisingly the tube-lights were strong enough to light the room even in the dark of the monsoon morning. There were many people around her, sitting upright in a disciplined fashion.

Prolonged Shavaasan always did this to her. Instead of relaxing her, it would inundate her mind with thoughts at an alarming frequency, so much that she could hardly handle it without engaging her mind with wild imaginative stories.

She got up and chanted Om with the group. She walked out of the hall, to the spot where she was once ran fearlessly, at maniacal speeds with grip-less footwear.

The Past and Furious

2011-06-01T05:52:00.000-07:00

Belgium, for all that's said about it, is a colorful and powerful country. But the view of a traveler is so dramatically influenced by personal experiences, that abstracting out from travelogues is a gross approximation.

And that's especially true if you are a solo female traveler who meets an intellectual criminologist - a witty man who speaks English as a second language, using little-too-appropriate words and wren-and-martin grammer.
She had met him earlier, and now she was in his town as if by chance, but actually because she had planned this visit in her itinerary. He came to pick her up at Eindhoven, a small town in Netherland, and they crossed the border to Belgium by car. (crossing national borders so easily just doesn't come so easy to Indians).
Initially it was awkward, but he being him, went on to spout information, crack jokes etc. Even the silence got comfortable. They reached his house and directly headed for the lawn where they sat under the sun, drinking beer. They talked about travel, grass, music, wacky crimes, teaching, ex-girlfriends, cynicism (not connected to ex-girlfriends), poetry and people skills. They yapped till it was late evening. He took her out for a stroll to show her his part-time job - owning & managing a cozy and chilled cafe in his town. They walked along the wharf and watched the waves. After dinner, they went home where he put on world music and poured some wine. They danced - he did some solos and she laughed with tears in her eyes... watching him perfom his moves, in the candle light. It was a magical evening.

She then moved on in her travels, and he, in his life. It was a dream sequence of life that happened while she was transitioning from one state to another - one mindset to another - one roadblock to another.
It made a lasting impact - to have seen something very beautiful is to set a standard - to measure everything that comes consecutive on that yardstick - to see things not as they are, but in comparison to that most beautiful thing.

And then, after a few years, came the day when there was a new development... from old times.
She found herself amidst a newer setting - not the carefree and breezy one as that of a travel-junkie, but the grounded and pragmatic approach of a 'settled' mind. It made sense to play a game that was socially more acceptable and had more guaranteed returns, than the one which was suspended on hopes of reliving the fresh life of travel and love and everything free and liberating. One in hand seemed clearly better than two in the bushes of expectations and dreams.

This newer setting came home :-)
He chanced upon her belongings and picked up a tattered paper from her travel memoirs... it read "Cafe Zuidpool, Belgium".
He looked at her quizically and raised an eyebrow "Ah, that Belgian guy you kinda liked, na?".
It seemed like such a crass sentence. It was like describing Dhobi Ghat as : "A movie where a rat-killer fell in love with a photographer"... a true but painfully incomplete sentence with irrelevant details.

He dropped the paper and the talk. She picked up the paper and the thought.

Sometimes, a chance glance at the clothes while walking past the shop and wondering how they would look on you, is way better than going into the shop to buy them.

Blissful Ignorance

2010-11-21T22:51:00.000-08:00

What a silly rat! - little did it know that it's quick scurry across the room would churn the juices of the onlookers' stomach, the wrong way.
It was a strange sight - all of us busy in our worlds . There were two men - a young and a slightly older colleague with strange spectacles - discussing their mundane work and the mundaneness of it.
There was an extended family of 6 crowding on a table meant for 4, ordering meal for more than 8.
On the next table was a solo guy, ostensibly hungry and waiting impatiently for his order to arrive.. checking his cellphone every 5th second.

And the rat made it's move. Somehow, everyone saw it in that split second - that black blob move across the tainted marble, out of the kitchen.
There was a longer second of silence after that subtle verdict on the quality of Mysore Sada Dosa and 'fresh' watermelon juice that most people were consuming.
Finally, the kid in the family of 6 suddenly cried, and broke the discomforting silence. All got back to eating.

Information is not always good. It comes in the way of new decisions, it makes you reconsider older decisions that were made with clarity & certainty... it an annoying piece of data that sits idly in your brain and interferes with everything productive.
The worst part is that it's impossible to erase it, and difficult to ignore it. It peeps out at wrong times and stares you in your face, especially when you wish to overlook it.

It is precisely for this reason that reading books, watching movies, holding serious conversations etc are a double-edged sword. While they may serve as intellectual fodder, it is very difficult to undo them, once done.

Fire vs Water

2010-10-17T14:38:00.000-07:00

It is the festival that celibrates the victory of good over evil.

I reach the venue of celebration, to see thousands of kindred souls, enraptured in the music... some trying to match their steps with the groups', others trying to come up with innovative steps... still others with eyes darting and following the moves of co-ordinated choreographies. As they move, there is a cacophony of colors of their attires - vibrant hues of bandhani used in chaniya cholis as well as modern-day adaptations of kurtis, along with the dangling of oxidized jewelry and the what-have-yous of the garba ensemble.

The music is good, the original songs have always been soulful. There is a marked difference in listening to them in the privacy of your room, versus dancing to them openly, boldly in public.

I move in rhythm - swirl, hop, kick, almost pirouette in the tempo for a couple of minutes... until the mix of daze and sweat stop me. Even as I stand and stare, I take vicarious pleasure in the people of other groups.

Some people come to join our dance group. They know someone from the group. I notice that it's a couple and their friend - a strikingly handsome guy. He was the kinda handsome who, you would wish, would never open his mouth to talk or try to dance or do anything else that is high on your litmus test... you know that it is highly improbable that any of his actions would match up to his handsome-ness. In fact they are more likely to reduce his handsome-ness by reminding you of his fallibility.

Well, he looks around, seemingly unimpressed. He waits and composes himself, drinking water to cool himself, and letting the scene sink in. You can see that he is judging, but not letting the verdict show on his face.

In some time he joins in. He starts dancing. I watch him amidst my swivels, wanting to decide how good a swivel-er he is. But he is moving in his neither-impressive-nor-clumsy unique, confident style. He smiles occasionally.. almost to himself. He doesn't care if he's fitting in... but he knows he is in sync.

The stomach gets butterflies amongst all the blazing music and heat and the growing exhaustion. The basic instincts, of putting forth the best appearance, grip over. There is adjustment of clothes and hair and smiles and steps. The carefree-ness is marred by the unaware intruder. But the excitement is doubled. Along with the growing tempo of the songs, I sense a growing fire in the belly.

And then I see her - an exquisite face with a coquettish charm. She is dressed in bright peacock green, with the right shade of make-up. She is alone.
She is fiddling with her cellphone, and... looking around, unimpressed.

She looks at our group and decides to join. She is a killer dancer... with flawless synch and matching expressions. She is so graceful and riveting that it makes the 'weaker' dancers pause and watch in admiration.
There is an understandable renewed vigor amongst the men. There is greater energy.

The show goes on. The butterflies wax and wane... now there are additional butterflies of (peacock) green wings of envy.
People come and go. I dance and pause and resume and pause.

We are trying to decide on newer steps. I look around. Too much happening - vicarious stuff, colors, synchronizations, butterflies, humidity, and the escalating tempo of the beats. The show is almost coming to an end, as the music suggests.

And then, in a speechless moment, I see them talk. Clearly, they are introductions. Clearly, they are both playing hard-to-get.
Mysteriously, the butterflies escape.

I turn around to my boyfriend. He smiles and asks if I want water. I nod.
Comfortable love.

The Importance of Being Cool

2010-07-24T14:51:00.000-07:00

You buy tees from Pantaloons and dresses from Ritu Kumars,
You read the paper every morning to not miss out on the lunch hour discussions
You listen to HipHop so that you can mouth the songs while grooving in the club
You don't answer personal calls at work coz you pretend to be busy at work
You wear halter bras to show a little bit
You put up pretty pics on FB and untag yourself from the unprettier ones
You want a knowledge-filled and social boyfriend
You use a Mac
You have your eyebrows in shape and ensure that no underarm curls sprout out
You talk about evolution with the authority of Darwin's first cousin
You talk about Futures and Options without knowing the underlying
You put up psychedelic posters on the walls of your room
You follow FIFA and the stock market and entrepreneurship blog with undetectable fake passion

You tread the path of coolness... you try to ooze as much of it as you can imagine

Can you afford to be uncool, is the question?
More like, do you have the courage to be uncool?

Squeezy

2010-07-19T13:08:00.000-07:00

Read the paper during breakfast,
Check the stock prices while going to work,
Listen to music while working,
Browse the net while talking on the phone,

Dream while sleeping,
Calculate calories while working out,
Think of other conversations while conversing,
Rush around fervidly in this beautiful weather... all one has to do is pause, and stop the f*@#ing multitasking

Love's in the air

2010-07-05T03:31:00.000-07:00

Falling in love has it's advantages, and catches.
However, re-falling in love has a different set of upsides and downsides.
And re-falling after several re-falls is a totally different ball-game. It is certainly not meant for the faint hearted.

For starters, even if the initial gush of love is strong, stronger is the caution that grips you from the fear of falling off the love-fence. Romancing the idea of a long-lasting, 'happily ever after' liaison is given up, and its place is taken by pragmatic thoughts of potential issues that could crop up eventually. At odd times, when one is immersed in throes of passion, skepticism peeks out its annoying face to disrupt the bliss. And one of the biggest and unforeseen challenge is to not let the new participant's actions trigger those of the past ones. A joke, a song, the word selected... hell, even a sneeze can transport one to those 'good-old days' with good-ol participants of love. The more 'colorful' a past one has, the more compounded this problem gets.
Then there is the perennial thought-race of who is 'better'. An impossible answer to come up with. And just as impossible to get rid of these comparisons. I guess it's inherent. Humans compare people. That's not the problem. The problem is that this is socially considered to be insensitive. And so along with a seemingly-genuine confusion of 'whos better', there is an added baggage of guilt associated with asking such unkind questions.

So, what's the key to cracking the puzzle? Is it a wiser strategy to give up on love? How much can a human heart endure? What is the healthy option - to risk another damage, or to go ahead in hope?
A good friend had once given an interesting theory - every time one falls in love, one gives a piece of one's heart to the person. And when there is a break-up, the piece is lost. After several such endeavors, one has lost several pieces (big and small) and the size of the heart has considerably shrunk. Eventually not much of the heart is left to give, and since love primarily involves in giving a piece of heart to someone, one cannot fall in love after some critical number of attempts.
Although hilarious, this theory seems to make sense at different levels of abstraction, and is gradually rising the ranks to becoming my personal favorite.

There are other statistical theories that claim that you should just discard the first 30% of people you date, find the next best and stick on. But statistics get my mind muddled up, given their tricky nature...so, that theory is discarded.

All said and 'done', there is some truth to the adage- "the heart is forever inexperienced"
The butterflies in the stomach during the initial dates, the long dates that get over too quickly, the "good-night" calls stretching to a 3-hour late-night mushy talks, the storing of every sms on the cell only to re-read and re-live the moment... it feels good to be in this state.

Also, the re-falls have helped in aligning priorities, and discovering the must-haves in potential partners. Love is respected. It is taken seriously, it is given time and resources. It is not a 'by-the-way' activity, it is THE activity. There is an increased awareness of the emotional investment made.

More than anything else, one feels free and on top-of-the-world... fearless, flawless and filmy :-)

Sarpas Final Day

2010-05-28T02:37:00.000-07:00

Vast stretches of snow welcome me. I walk across them - sometimes carefully, other times with carefree abandon.
The sun shines so bright that I feel the burn on my hands. The combination of snow and sun is comforting - if too hot, just lie in the snow, if too cold just stand with arms stretched facing the sun.

The snow passes. The scenery becomes fairy-tale picturesque. It's a scene straight out of childhood dreams. There is a lush green sloping land. There are mountains all around - some snow covered pristine peaks and others green with tall pines. There's a distant sound of the stream that runs into the divide between two slopes. The sky is clear except for a few stray clouds forming curious shapes (which can engage the imaginary mind for hours). There are small flowers growing wildly, out of free-will.

Footprints guide me as I walk along... and the breeze brings with it the stories of people who live and breathe here. I stand still for a moment and shut my eyes. I see healthy horses galloping in the freedom, a wooden hut housing a fulfilled family, and I see a kid lying on the grass with sunlight playing on his face.

I don't want to move. I want to capture this feeling. I want to return to this feeling in the dark hours.

I open my eyes. I see a face. A smile. Confident eyes. And a conversation begins with a fellow-traveler who is equally sunk in the surroundings. We click. We talk and laugh, violating protocols of propriety and appropriateness. We immerse ourselves into each other and the beauty around. General rules of conduct and acceptable principles of communication have no place in a place gushing with natural instincts. We take in the beauty of the wild nature. And walk along.

And then there is rain. We look up. It's hail. Small, but sharp, balls of snow falling around. They stun me. This is even beyond my fecund childhood imagination. There are milk-white balls bouncing off the ground. The lush green gradually gets covered by a white carpet. It drives us crazy. We jump and dance around, two people who have never witnessed such a spectacular performance of nature.

Vulnerable Child vs Venerable Parent

2010-02-24T14:00:00.000-08:00

The story goes like this:-

Once upon a time there was a rich girl who, like all rich girls, possessed lot of footwear - Nike running shoes, Keens all-weather flippers, Bata regulars, flip-flops, crocs, high heels and low heels and everything in between. And yet, she wasn't much pleased with her collection. Her parents (who, of course, were a part of a rags-to-riches story) thought she was out-of-control and beyond redemption when it came to her imprudent shopping sprees. But she successfully over-powered them and dragged her harrowed mother to a shoe store to get her a pair of daring red stilettos.
It was there that she saw a girl without legs... suddenly there was torrential rain in the background (and it got the leg-less girl soaked), there was lightening, there were terrifying terrestrial movements, and invariably, these movements caused the camera (that was filming this story) to shake and zoom into the leg-less girl's forlorn face. Three times. From different angles. With zooming in and zooming out swish-swoosh sounds.
Cut to the rich brat: She is clearly humbled. It was the classic epiphany moment and she 'realized her mistake'. She, who could choose a new footwear was face-to-face with someone who didn't have the choice to choose.

Another story:-
The rich daughter (who now walks barefeet) had a sprightly young brother. He would ask the servant (a decrepit old lady in the most tattered saree) to make him a lot of food for lunch - he would want dhokla and ghee-na-phaaphda, and a lot of undhiyoo made for him. He would fill up his plate, watch TV while eating, and then call the servant to take away the plate... which had a lot of leftover food. One day, the mother, tired of his ways, edified him on how "there are so many people in the world who survive a day on half a bread or less... so you here are wasting food that would probably feed a dozen starved fellas. Do you know what a criminal waste that is?"
This time, the epiphany moment was not that powerful (no lightening or earthy movements... just a daunting adult staring at a confounded child), nonetheless, the guy felt a moral pinch and gulped down all the food.

Well, apart from the colorful dramatizations, I have had (a not-so-unique) privilege of being the audience of such stories. Surprisingly though, I have hardly ever questioned their logic. They seem so saturated with moral fiber that it felt almost blasphemous to question them... as if the question-er did not have heart enough.

Since now I am anyway classified as a heartless creature (by the same people who I was afraid of offending with my heartless questions), I might as well take the plunge.

1. What does the food content on my plate have anything to do with food content in the sub-saharan regions of utter poverty? Do those guys benefit if I eat up all my food? Or do they suffer if I waste?
Or will the girl get her legs back if the rich girl is any less voracious in her shoe appetite?
In other words, connection kya hai, dost?

2. Do those who are 'suffering', have a claim on those who are relatively well-off?

If all the stories that a child is made to hear as a part of her 'learning/culture/sanskaar', are consolidated into a single volume, I am certain there would be moral/logical holes in the arguments. But that is not the disturbing part. What is disturbing and also often, annoying, is that the principles meant to be imparted are deftly sewed together with the fabric of guilt, sympathy, and similar feelings.

For instance, why couldn't the girl who goes to purchase new shoes be poor, and the leg-less girl be rich?
Or why can't the hungry child example be that of a naughty kid who is kept in detention and hence hungry?
Is there a fear that if these lessons are not camouflaged under the coating of emotional drama, they will taste bitter or be rejected?

I personally believe that if one wants to drive a point, especially to a growing being, like a child, one has to be honest and clear about it. Else, it messes up the child.

And if this continues, I think it is time for some of us motivated adults to take up this case and come up with stories for adults that are all-the-more heavily laden with guilt and sympathy and all those things that are tricky to handle... just for kicks!

Current Thoughts

2010-02-13T03:33:00.000-08:00

Following are unrelated thoughts that currently bother me.

1. Sticking to my decisions.
Every once in a while, or more often than that, I come across an article or a book, or a person or some perfectly random trigger (like hearing my friend praise a book) that gets me motivated. I get charged... super-charged perhaps. I am raring to go, I could run a Marathon in that state perhaps. And then, in that state of mind, I make decisions. I commit myself to "I must do this by this month" or so very easily in that state. And then, when the time comes to actually executing that commitment, I become lethargic... I find reasons to not do it. Simply put, I have lost my drive. I know that I must do it somehow, I must get hold of that finance book and read it through. I feel that twist in my long intestinal tract when my mind tactfully refuses to go along with those decisions.
And at the end of it, the failure is mighty frustrating. I look at that book and give up.
Well, THAT act, of not sticking to my decisions is doubly harmful... not only do I not live up to my resolution, but I give my brain negative feedback. I tell it, through my actions, that it was ok to break my word to myself. And that completely ruins self-image.
:-(

2. Mental health
I see a lot of people trying hard to 'become fit'. Irrespective of their fitness goals there seems to be an effort dedicated by the enterpreneurs to assist these people to reach their goals. There are gyms and aerobic classes, Yoga teachers and a million-dollar diet industry mushrooming that capitalizes on this intention of people - to 'become fit'.
I am genuinely surprised by the lack of 'mental health' gyms. I wonder why it has not become a fad yet. Ostensibly, people are becoming unhealthier in terms of mental health, at least in Mumbai. For whatever reasons, there is a major resource crunch which is causing life to be more painful. There is more traffic, more rush, more competition to get admissions, more pressure from parents on kids, more pressure from kids on parents, from society, from boss... from your freaking kaam-wali bai. It's getting tougher to be happier, or so it seems. At times like these, there should be gyms that sort of increase fitness level. Perhaps the gym should simulate a stressed atmostphere and the trainer trains the patron to stay calmer and happier. Really, it seems to a much needed facility.

3. Empathy
So, as I walk down the street, there happened to be a bullock-cart wheeling it's way on the busy street in the tempering heat. The slow speed clearly annoyed the driver who, seemingly mercilessly, whipped the bull. And almost everyone who witnessed it, cringed at the sight and felt that terrible rigmarole in the pit of their bellies. I did. And I wonder why. Why do I have to thrust my world-view on the bull? Perhaps that whip didn't hurt much. Perhaps it likes it. Perhaps it got turned on, who knows... goddamit, why do I empathise? I have no idea of what it is to be a bull. My physical strucutre is completely different. So, a whip may not hurt him at all. Clearly, I cannot put myself in the bull's shoes, for the lack of such feet or shoes. So why do I assume it hurts him? Worse still, why do I feel anger at the driver who probably cares more and loves that animal more than all the on-lookers collectively? It really is difficult to shrug off this empathy. It's one of those things were my philosophy is in dissonance with my actual instantaneous reaction to such an act.

4. Why most of the exciting lives are not built under such a structure.
I am, for a year now, trying to live healthy and mindfully. I am, more than ever before, conscious of my lifestyle - physically, emotionally, financially, spiritually, socially. I eat and sleep healthy and I exercise regularly. I have become financially independent and actively invest and learn more in that field. I do yoga and keep a check on all my negative energy/emotions actively. And I have tried my hand at Art of living, Jainism, meditation for spiritual well-being. Socially, I am more involved with my family and have gotten closer to my friends (through all that partying ;-) )
And I am certainly happier for it.

But, grudgingly, I concede that most of the exciting stories I read (fiction/non-fiction) seem to have the protagonist living a super colorful and much-envied (by me) life without really taking much effort in the directions of well-being that I am taking. Shantaram, for instance, lived the most exciting life I know of. He was the most-wanted guy of Australia and broke thru the highest-security prison, lived in the Mumbai slums, was a part of mafia, lived in Arthur road jail, fought in Afghanistan, fell in love, and wrote a book about all this! What could be more enviable.

And the guy smoked regularly, was financially questionable, a social-outcast once, and emotionally on heroin-support when he felt like!

Anyway, I guess one can't plan an exciting life. It either happens and you are prepared for it. Or you just survive a banal existence.
But like Klaus had once told me, "luck favors the prepared". I am going to be prepared (with all my strength training) in case I get an opportunity to join the Mafia ;-)

The Stud

2010-02-08T12:06:00.000-08:00

He knew her for a long time. He knew exactly how she felt about studying incomprehensible subjects before the exam during those scary engineering days, he understood her frustrations at her failure to score well. He could make her laugh by simply making faces... and he knew her humor g-spots so well, that she would metaphorically shudder at the slightest insinuations of his typically flamboyant-yet-honest, semi-mocking, semi-cocky jokes.

They would discuss movies, and he would give the most appealing reviews which were just-rightly aberrant from her perspective.... the aberrance that provoked the most intriguing thoughts in her head.
He understood music and sang well. He enjoyed correcting her singing. He knew about the raagaas - not too much perhaps, but just enough to amuse her. He enjoyed dancing and she did too. He explained history and civics and geography and politics to her in the most fascinating way - combining story-telling with subjective edification.

He took deep interest in people and their ways, in societies and their working, in finance, in sports, in trivia, in making friends and mocking them amicably, in postulating outrageous theories, in devouring unhealthy road-side indian-chinese food, in sitting on the steps of a moving train watching the scene go by.
He possessed a great interest in life, in love... and in learning.

She thought of him and her as two tributaries of the same river which ran down the mountain together and faced similarly challenging terrain, which often converged to form a single stream, and then again diverged at agreeable deltas... only to join the sea together.

He defined what it implies to be 'an old friend'.
He had been a savior during those vivas, and an entertainer in the mind-numbing lectures, and the guy who hinted the answer (often wrong) from the side when the teacher asked her a question, an annoying lab-partner who consistently undervalued her attempts at programming and discussed ways of procuring the program print-out directly. He was the understanding 'best friend' to confide the excitement of young love as well as the tumultuous woes of a heart-broken, disillusioned damsel in distress... and everything between those two states.

He was her alter-ego... someone she could always bounce her ideas on, seeking clarity of her own mind.

There are certain relationships that don't fit the framework of social structure.
Was he a friend? Much more.
Was he a good friend? Ya, but more.
Was he a boyfriend? No.
Did she have a crush on him? No.
Did she love him? Yes.
But didn't she open out more to him than any other person (crush/boyfriend/'guy-friend'/girl-friend) she knew? Yes.

Bollywood honchos have had it right from the beginning - "Ek ladka aur ek ladki kabhi sirf dost nahi reh sakte hai"

Here's raising a toast to a lifetime of companionship with him - fun, frolic and living life fully!
:-)

choice about choices

2010-01-06T10:01:00.000-08:00

You take big decisions seriously. They are life altering after all, you argue.
Casual small decisions are taken 'by the way'. They happen. They are not that significant to you.

You think and re-think and make a decision about the college you want to go to. And then you re-rethink and change your mind. You dilly-dally and weigh the sides until you think you have put in enough labor and are finally satisfied (hopefully). (Yet you are woeful when the college you foregave seems more promising on hindsight, what with your friends enjoying their time there immensely).
Similarly, whether to go for an MBA, MS, job, family beeziness, break, early-marriage, fooling around, waiting for the annual ritual of entrance exams... whatever you select, you ensure that you put in the deserved thought labor to the decision.

But really, what do we think when we think we are trying to decide? Do we look for any new information on the subject, or do we look for new information in the crevices of our mind... about ourselves?

The small decisions that you have made over the period of your life matter more... whether you chose craft or arts or music or drawing as that optional subject, whether you studied sanskrit or not, whether you were given a chance in the inter-school basketball tournament, whether you agreed to participate in the debate competition, whether you forced your mother to get you the new bike so that you could get thrill rides with fellow bikers, whether you were convinced that that silly but cute boy would make for a 'good bf' and gave him a chance, whether you copied and didn't get caught... or got caught, whether you chose to flout basic rules of propriety because you didn't understand the import of it.
Whether you cared about the choices you have to make everyday... whether you realized they were choices in the first place, that would eventually accumulate to what you would look back and call your life!

I realized today how much I enjoy reading... and I attribute that to one blessed day in history when a classmate mistakenly gave me a Nancy Drew book. It was the first serious novel that I read (semi) voluntarily. It was as late as 8th or 9th grade.
And it was absolutely un-put-down-able. I was hooked...
and i wonder how many other things I could have (still can) potentially gotten hooked on to, only if I made a small choice... not life-altering when I make it, but perhaps life-altering when looked back upon.

Beauty

2009-12-13T01:55:00.000-08:00

From as long as I can recollect, one of my pursuits in social encounters has been to understand what makes a person popular. Sometimes it has been the 'attractive' lass, other times it has been that really funny guy who got everyone is splits, sometimes it is the person who enamored everyone by his talks and discussions, or someone who is already popular and making the most of it.

However, I have seen the lesser beautiful being more attractive, the less funny guy who makes everyone at ease, more popular... in general, even the second ranker can beat the alpha fella. How?
I have come to believe in the theory (if there is one) of aura. Aura, as defined by the first entry of google search is : A distinctive but intangible quality that seems to surround a person or thing.

I take it to mean the positive energy surrounding a person. I know of times when I would feel so mad at something that happened at home, and then, when I had to go out, no amount of make-up or accessories or good clothing would make me feel beautiful. And then there were those times when with a spring in my gait I would hop around the house, and smile alone and sing loudly and be carefree and in love with life. I would take approximately 2 minutes to get ready and without any effort I would feel so beautiful.
The same is true of what I feel for my friends when I meet them. Some of us term this energy as 'mood'. I am not sure if it is correct... it is close. But the energy is much more than the mood. It's a superset.

The theory of aura is similar to that of leshya. My mother had once expounded on it, and I am completely sold on it. It says that everyone is carrying with them this halo (energy field) around their bodies. The halo has colors - it has soothing colors (light blue and green... perhaps the cool colors) when you are happy and at peace. It has bright red and all those scary colors when you are angry and mighty displeased. Basically, the color reflects your energy field. This energy field can be sensed by those close to you. And so, you are attractive if you have an attractive energy field around you. This is one of the prime factors that affects how much people like you.

So, next time you are going for that party or the all-important meeting, remember to check your aura before you check your make-up and attire :-)

The much-needed kick

2009-11-08T11:13:00.000-08:00

A stormy night... the perfect backdrop for a story to begin.
She looked out and had a slightly sinking feeling. There was no way she could go out. She looked around helplessly, trying to evaluate all the methodologies for escape. None seemed viable.

She was stuck. It was one of those things that are difficult to digest, but nonetheless, have the signs for a potential adventure. She sat on a chair. Around her were others who felt just as helpless. Not much could be done except make light talk and stare at those talking on phone to the 'outside world'.

It was quite a scene in the office building on 26/07 - the day Mumbai got flooded.. the primary reason being that no-one (no BMC, weather dept, Bejan Daruwala) could forecast that there would be such rains. And not being able to forecast before the showers is still somewhat acceptable. But what about the forecasts after the torrential rains start pouring? 'Probably 2 more hours', 'is it only in this area of Mumbai?', 'how many inches do you think this is?'.
No one in the office had a clue. All communication channels were severed.
The building being a fancy glass-cladded building, it was ensured that there could be no leakage of the conditioned air.. which in turn implied that there were hardly any windows.

So, stuck on the 14th floor with several other employees in darkness at mid-night, with the cell-phone serving no more than a paper-weight, and sweating and smelling within the suffocating shut-window area, I sat happily.
After the initial sense of confusion and turbulence, comes the stage of excitement for the ensuing adventure.

What is it about adventure? What was it that I felt that night that I have treasured since then? Why do I wish that at least once in my lifetime I get to see the oxygen mask drop on me in an airplane (if not get to use the life-jacket)?

Contrary to what the media has to say, I believe that we live in an inherently safe society. We have come a long way in dispensing off the thrills of the dangers faced by our ancestors. And this lack of thrill in an 'aam aadmi's' life makes his/her life a wee-bit incomplete. And that's what gets us excited when we read 'sensational' news. We take vicarian pleasures in our fellow 'aam aadmis'' more thrilling lives. We get rather excited when we hear tales from the eye-witnesses of crimes, catastrophes, scandals.

There is a certain amount of thrill that is desirable. We would certainly not like it to cost us our health or peace of mind. However, an uneventful life pushes one to take extreme steps to feel the thrill.

The movie "The Game" is a wonderful story based on similar grounds.

I wonder what it would feel like to be caught in war, in a revolution, to be part of a military organization, to hold a fire-arm, or have one placed on the forehead?
How would one react? It seems that one cannot know oneself completely until one is exposed to a variety of situations. It is tempting to envy those whose lives are at greater risks, of course, with the greater 'rewards' of adrenaline-pumpings.

In any case, the night stay at the office on 26/07 was brilliant, with random people chatting animatedly about random topics under candlelight. Not all storms are bad.

Shares of life?

2009-10-30T15:49:00.000-07:00

A Company is owned by share-holders who nominate a 'management team' to manage the company for them.
What is the aim of the management team? Is it to run the company smoothly, ensure the brand-name is created/maintained, keep the employers happy? Perhaps.

What are the financial aims of the management, or more appropriately, the corporate finance team/dept?
Is it to increase profitability? Increase Sales? Increase volumes? Increase Profit Margin?
It is tough to make any of these as the aim. For instance, increasing profitability seems like a sound goal, and a seemingly innocuous one. But then, it has to be quantified. Profitability for the next year, or the one after that, or all years? Can they use inferior raw-material and sell at the same price to increase profits? Increase Sales? A statement like: "The goal is to increase profitability" leaves a lot of room for misinterpretation or misrepresentation of the motives of the share-holders (the guys who own the company).

A beautiful and strikingly clear goal for the Finance team is to "Increase the share value".
This takes into account everything. The increase in share value implies that the 'worth' of the company has increased. The share-holders cannot help but be happy with this.

It might seem obvious (what-was-so-ooh-lala-about-this) to someone. But any other goal is tainted with un-clarity. Once you have such a goal (and of course a set of ethical codes), it simplifies the decision-making process.

I can almost imagine the guy (guys? team? reasearch group? confederation?) that came up with this idea that all the finance group had to do was try to legitimately increase the share-value. They would have solved a deep-rooted question of corporate finance. And made it, at least coming up with a target, a cake-walk for the rest.

I wish a guy (guys? team? blah blah) come up with a similar rule for living life. There are many theories to what would make a 'successful liver', just like what would make for a 'successful' finance team.
One can say that a desirable goal of life is to increase happiness (similar to increasing profitabilty). But this statement is un-clear, just like 'increasing profitability' is unclear. You could cheat through a test and score high and the high score might make you happy... and the cheating may not necessarily make you that sad/guity. The classic question is that would you try to be happy at the cost of someone else's happiness, just like would you try to make profits by harming the competitor's product?
You could. And you could justify that the statement 'increasing happiness' didn't have any clauses.

But is there an equivalent of 'increasing share-value' for the conundrum of life?

The thrill is in making profits.... but in different ways - taking the challenge of making a non-performing assets profitable, finding a niche market for your product and booking profits, positioning yourself to make profits, obtaining cheap loans and making profits, making a loss in your debut venture and yet seeing the profit of knowledge in it.

And similarly, the thrill is in being happy. And that is, similarly, through different avenues - participating in an adventure and being happy, laughing madly at a joke, feeling thankful, being appreciated, and even getting stressed for an interview would constitute happiness. You would want to make the most of all of these channels for happiness.

But what would be that one line - one phrase that could sum it all up, make a clear goal and make life 'easier' for the rest?

Current Happenings

2009-10-23T16:12:00.000-07:00

Over the years I have come to realize that the most overwhelming fear I have is that of appearing 'foolish'.
No matter how confident I grow, the fear constantly lurks like an annoying fly one can't get rid of. I remind myself that there is no such thing as a 'stupid' question, repeatedly. And just when I think I have gotten over the fear, a situation comes up to test me. I bump into an acquaintance. I try hard to recollect but fail. I know I am supposed to know her... of course I know her. Why can't I place her? What was her name at least? And then, she goes on talking without doubting my knowledge. And after 5 minutes of conversation, I get painfully restless. Now it's too late to prop a question along the lines of 'how do I know you?'. I want to escape instead of confront it... and I keep thinking, what if I bump into her again?

The problem is that such situations should be resolved at the earliest. One must take that extra step of courage instantly, instead of hoping that it will resolve on it's own. Such problems simply get compounded with time.

(PS: The trick I follow if I don't remember someone's name is that I ask for their cell number and then ask them how they exactly spell their names :-) (courtesy Monil) )

Apart from that, things have been smooth. It's a good life. Work takes up most time and the rest is divided between gymming, dancing and singing.
On weekends, the songs I invariably hear are "I gotta feeling tonight's gonna be a good night" and "I wanna make up now now now" and a song that goes something like "blah blah blah... go down down'. I really like going down on that song :-)

I liked the latest research that said men aren't 'real men' anymore or something like that! Hehe... the average women not too long back were 'stronger' than men today. The Fair&Handsomes are not doing themselves too proud. And what with artificial sperm (or something) being discovered recently, the men might find themselves rather useless in the evolutionary battles. I mean, they've never been great at understanding women, not made themselves useful in household chores, women are matching (or moving ahead) men in their primary job of providing food and shelter to family, men might not be needed in procreation if the artificial sperm is anything to go by... and then, most of the times they are getting in the way of some useful task or getting on the nerves of a useful woman.
It's going to be a woman's world soon...

Koop Mandook

2009-09-25T11:33:00.000-07:00

The potential topics I could write on:-

1. Navratri and all the fanfare and Falguni's trance

2. Current life conundrums... something typically reflective in third person's voice.

3. Observations and conclusions regarding Mumbai life (or it's junta).

4. Some incident/event of recent time that triggered a debate in my head.

That's it!
All these are too redundant. It is strange that almost everything I can think of falls within one of these broad topics... and that I can't think out of this 'box'.

And everyday, when I read the editorial of Times Of India, which invariably has an article by Jug Surraiya or Bacchi Karkaria, I am in awe. Their writings mostly have a radical perspective, compelling humor derived from a very cool insight, and generally a clear point.

It's admirable that they can achieve that. They are my personal heroes.

Saying in a shop: To see the entire picture, you have to step out of the frame.

That was brilliant. To be able to write about things that are beyond one's personal predicaments, one needs to be willing to accommodate other view points irrespective of how futile/indigestible they might seem. Stepping out of the frame is rather important (at least) for being able to write well.

Mythya-ology

2009-08-20T12:50:00.000-07:00

These days I happen to attend certain lectures/sermons on The Bhagvad Geeta and that has re-ignited my dormant desire to gain insight into mythological/spiritual stories.

What I understand of the Geeta currently is largely (or perhaps entirely) dependent on the interpretation of the speaker ('Guru'). And so, some of my contentions may be more with the interpretation rather than the actual context.

My chief complaints (some against the story of Mahabharat and others against Geeta) are probably stemming from my agyaan. Some of them are:-

1. It is difficult to understand why Pandavas 'deserved' the throne. The original heir (older son) was Dhritarashtra and the kingdom belonged to him. However, due to his blindness his younger brother Pandu ruled (almost like Dhritarashtra handed over certain Powers of Attorney... but thats it). That certainly didn't imply that Pandu's sons would inherit the kingdom. So why the whole fuss about Pandavas (Pandu's sons) wanting to rule the kingdom _rightfully_?

2. In the story, a highly foolish, weak and (I would say) immoral man is worshipped. Weak because he was not strong enough to resist the temptation of gambling; foolish because he could not see through a devious plan; immoral because he had the nerve and the heart to stake his wife as a gamble. Now if such a man made such a crazy move, and consequentally lost his wife to (say) Mr.D, who should be the villain? Should the wife get mad at her husband, or at Mr.D?
Its unbelievable that very few (if any) versions of the story criticize Yudhisthir for staking Draupadi, and almost all of them demonize Duryodhan (and Dushasan) for misbehaving with Draupadi. It seems totally uncalled for the Kauravas to get a bad name for this!

3. Duryodhan's name was Suyondhan. Not a good thing to change a 'su' to 'du' simply because a 'majority' (Pandava's side, who eventually wrote the story!) thinks he is a 'bad guy'.

4. My biggest complaint is against Krishna. Honestly, I don't get it. It is too twisted to make sense. On one hand, he plays the role of a mortal (a friend, a cousin, a naughty kid etc) and lives as if he is one of the mortals. But on the other hand, he is The Divine. Now if he kept these two things separate, it would be easier to make sense of things. But he confused some (and me).

a) Krishna tells Arjun that he must fight the war, even at the cost of the death of Arjun's teachers, uncles and brothers.

b) When Arjun is still confused, Krishna takes on his Divine Self and shows him the future - how the Kauravas and Drona and Bheeshma etc are being chewed in Krishna's mouth... which signifies their death.
So, Krishna tells Arjun the result of the war and also conveys that whether Arjun chooses to fight the war or not, and whether he slays the Kauravas and Drona etc or not, they are dead. Arjun is only incidental to their death. He is not the cause of their death. Their death is predetermined, and Arjun simply has to perform his duty and shoot the arrows.
Methinks this is getting into tricky realm! Does that imply that Krishna implies that the future is predetermined? If so, what determined it? Was it their karma?

c) When Arjun wants to kill Jayadrath and there seems to be no way to find Jayadrath (who must be seen and slain before sunset), Krishna creates a pseudo-sunset. He pulls a cloud in front of the sun.
Krishna had promised be a part of the war as a simple charioteer (just a mortal). It was unfair to use his divine powers of moving clouds around, tricking the enemy, and then assisting Arjun in aiming at Jayadrath.

d) In another incident (almost at the end of the war), when Duryodhand is single handedly fighting the Pandavas... and Bhim in particular, Krishna knows that Duryodhan's weak spot was his thigh /9this weakness of Duryodhan was also due to Krishna's trickery). So he instructs Bhim to attack there, and then Duryodhan succombs to his pain.

e) Krishna is Time, he is the Past, Present and Future. In him reside Brahma (as was seen in the Geeta). This Brahmaand where we all exist, comes from Brahma. The entire Brahmaand is seen within him. So who is he? How can he be talking to Arjun on the lands of Kurukshetra which is in the Brahmaand which is in Krishna? This is why he can't be a charioteer and the Divine at the same time.

Mahabharat is simply a dramatic story of how a 'God' can convert all the wrongs to right by simply being 'God'... and how you can win a battle if you can convince that 'God' (who has no qualms about indulging in deceit, renege, immodesty) to be on your side. All the rightness/goodness of the Pandavas seem to be a deadly whitewash over their not-so-right motives.

Phew! Some things are too unsettling to let go.
:-)

Also, an interesting insight on 2 characters of Mahabharat :

Dhan te Nan

2009-08-11T12:13:00.000-07:00

Kya majaa aaya!

Discoing with insanely loud moozik with colorful lights spanking your face at odd times and downing the fifth nectar... and dancing till either your feet are numb, or till you realize you HAVE to visit the washroom and vacate one forcibly if all are occupied... aaahaha!

What is it about 'clubbing'? After one is sufficiently into it, it seems that no relaxation can beat the surreal feel of swaying thru your own universe. It's like finding that perfect spot for acupuncture... and pressing it with the right pressure.

I think the trick is:-
1. You are generally much more fancily dressed and hence more confident

2. If you are a girl, your sexiness quotient goes a notch higher because of all the oomph you carry suddenly. That makes you feel nice!

3. You are free in terms of time... you don't have to reach anywhere... you don't have deadlines or targets swaying over your head like an unwanted bubble.

4. You see other good looking people who are laughing and dancing... that makes you infer that there is so much happiness available here for grabs. So you grab it... tee hee!

5. You dance. You are awkward. Of course, immaterial of what House, Soft rock, Hip hop means, you know no more than 3 different steps . Which means within some time, you have mastered them. You down a few drinks. You get creative enough to come up with variations in them. You like it that you are creative and the newly conjured step totally fits with the music. You are so convinced of that that your face reflects it. This convinces the others and they do that step. Ah! Now you are a leader of the pack... for some moments.

6. The music is too loud for any kind of conversations. That eliminates those meaningless and mindless conversations... or even the pressing need for a conversation to diffuse the airs of awkwardness. You dance with all and sundry. If you are graceful, you can do a full turn and take a quick preview of those around you. Next time, take a half turn and dance with the oh-so-cool dood behind you.

All in all, it really is such a good way to unwind, exercise, grow, re-affirm self-worth, go-all-out.. that there should be a serious effort by the NGOs to promote such a state of well-being.

Really really really. And what with Bollywood hip hop entering the scene? We finally found our panacea in our utopia!

Disturbances

2009-08-07T12:27:00.000-07:00

Couple of points and questions (some raised after watching some of 'Zeitgeist Addendum')

1. Money
Money is primarily required because there is scarcity of resources. We pay a higher price for diamonds, and much lower for bananas... and much much lower (zero) for air. That is because diamonds are very scarce, whereas bananas are more abundant... and air is highly abundant and everyone has access to that abundance.
Given this premise, if all that a human needs for existence (his bare necessities) are made highly abundant and accessible, will there be a need for money?
There might be a need for money for barter of the non-essential utilities, which he uses for pleasure and/or recreation.
But what if even that is in abundance?
Since everyone has their basic needs fulfilled (you can have as much food you want), one doesn't really need to 'work to make a living'. Now one works to do stuff one likes.
And that might translate to A loving to make computers that B uses... So A makes a lot of computers and gives (not sells) them to others who want it.
B on the other hand makes other valuable things and gives it. If there is enough variety in people's desire to make 'value', then the system might work... isn't it?

2. Education
Should we teach students skills that make them better at their job (specialized learning) or should we teach them skills to enjoy (kill?) time when they are not at their job (generalized learning)?
In most cases in real-world scenarios, people claim to learn more 'on-job' than in school. This is confirmed by salary hikes for 'experienced' people, even if they lack the requisite academic degree for the job. If people anyway learn more on the job, what is the job of educational institutions (apart from imparting super-basic mathematical/language skills for basic communication and reasoning)?

3. Crime
Given that a majority of crimes are committed by poor people, is there any differential judgment/treatment meted out based on the economic background of the criminal? If fairness is sought, isn't it necessary to have such a differential treatment?

4. Religion
Why do many religions (at least the popular ones) penalize certain natural instincts in order to attain salvation (or its equivalent)? And also, reward or champion the not-so-natural instincts? For instance, giving alms to the needy seems to be totally un-natural, given that it is difficult (naturally) to unnecessarily part with that which you have 'rightfully' earned. It might be that most of us have seen it being done by parents/those-we-look-up-to and hence think it 'natural' of us to want to donate.
It seems that the basic foundations of religions - to be based on 'tennets' or rules to be followed, is flawed. That leaves very little room for evolution of these rules. Societies (governments, law systems, religion) ought to be evolving rather than establishing. And if that is not the case, sooner or later they will be overthrown by a more evolved rule-book, when there is enough nerve in enough people to challenge the established norms even at the cost of salvation.

5. Human Nature vs Human Behavior
Is there such a thing as human nature? Are greed, desire to compete, desire for happiness and all those other things that we call 'human', wired into us? Or is it that as soon as we are born, we are placed into a society that invariably inculcates this in us, making it a human behavior and not human nature?
This seems to be a pretty basic question, one which might have an answer to in an introductary psychology book.
But yet, one wonders, what (if any) proofs can be provided to convincingly argue one case over the other. Somehow, basic psychological conundrums run deep into most of us... and it is difficult to know the answers because there are too many varied 'results' thrown out to us, and all with different force. So it gets tricky to give each result its due importance without bias towards a personal belief.

Sometimes it really seems tempting to shun all attempts to know more about anything that can lead to a change or disturbance in one's personally held belief system. This inertia against change in one's beliefs is perhaps something that nature provides to humans... as a tool for self-preservation?

Reading a scary book!

2009-08-04T15:57:00.000-07:00

It took a hella chance for me to be created. Reading about evolution in a dummies-guide-to-evolution sorta book made me feel special. A lot of (LOT) things had to go 'right' (genetically and otherwise) for me to be created. And who knows what I am.

It is difficult to look at humans as a bunch of atoms that are individually nothing, but together, form a unifying pattern. Well, it might be simple if that was the only view possible.

But most of the times, I think of myself as someone who likes so and so music and such and such author, that I like to read jokes and take excessive chances, that I had fallen in love and out of it.
I cant get myself to think of myself in terms of genes and such.

And the reason for getting disturbed to think of myself as a mere combination of some genetic code or a bunch of specializing atoms is precisely that! It leaves very little room for 'good' and 'bad'.
All judgments go for a toss. Somehow (perhaps incorrectly so), the faith in 'choice' lessens. Likes, dislikes, actions, emotions.... all of them seem just another combination of smaller entities (hormones, pheromones, what-not-mones).

I think I like to think 'highly' of people. I would like to continue to think of people (and myself) as someone who has achieved so and so, as someone who lives by so and so philosophy, as someone who... as someONE!

It is unsettling to read these things on evolution... write-ups that coldly disintegrate a person into elements that are incapable of being judged. How can the concept of good and bad disappear? Immaterial of how personal the judgment of good or bad is, the existence of such judgment is paramount to choosing what I do (I choose to blog over not to blog because I see some good in blogging over not blogging).

It is not only unsettling, but it really is scary. One helluva scary domain you don't want to enter if you are not suitably prepared.

And I tought again...

2009-07-30T09:45:00.000-07:00

today.

It was wonderful, to explain things to younger minds... to enjoy seeing them learn something new - their minds being enthusiastically receptive to a new concept, and then following it, and then suddenly not following it, and then on further explanation them following it after a suitable 'aha' moment.

Nice nice nice.

During the journey back, I was reminded of Subhadra kumari Chauhan's poem - Mera Naya Bachpan that I liked. I guess now I like it even more... She talk about how wonderful her childhood was, and goes on to describe the 'little things'... and then how she misses it. And then finally, she experiences her childhood again, in her daughter

मेरा नया बचपन – सुभद्राकुमारी चौहान

बार-बार आती है मुझको मधुर याद बचपन तेरी।
गया ले गया तू जीवन की सबसे मस्त खुशी मेरी॥

चिंता-रहित खेलना-खाना वह फिरना निर्भय स्वच्छंद।
कैसे भूला जा सकता है बचपन का अतुलित आनंद?

ऊँच-नीच का ज्ञान नहीं था छुआछूत किसने जानी?
बनी हुई थी वहाँ झोंपड़ी और चीथड़ों में रानी॥

किये दूध के कुल्ले मैंने चूस अँगूठा सुधा पिया।
किलकारी किल्लोल मचाकर सूना घर आबाद किया॥

रोना और मचल जाना भी क्या आनंद दिखाते थे।
बड़े-बड़े मोती-से आँसू जयमाला पहनाते थे॥

मैं रोई, माँ काम छोड़कर आईं, मुझको उठा लिया।
झाड़-पोंछ कर चूम-चूम कर गीले गालों को सुखा दिया॥

दादा ने चंदा दिखलाया नेत्र नीर-युत दमक उठे।
धुली हुई मुस्कान देख कर सबके चेहरे चमक उठे॥

वह सुख का साम्राज्य छोड़कर मैं मतवाली बड़ी हुई।
लुटी हुई, कुछ ठगी हुई-सी दौड़ द्वार पर खड़ी हुई॥

लाजभरी आँखें थीं मेरी मन में उमँग रँगीली थी।
तान रसीली थी कानों में चंचल छैल छबीली थी॥

दिल में एक चुभन-सी थी यह दुनिया अलबेली थी।
मन में एक पहेली थी मैं सब के बीच अकेली थी॥

मिला, खोजती थी जिसको हे बचपन! ठगा दिया तूने।
अरे! जवानी के फंदे में मुझको फँसा दिया तूने॥

सब गलियाँ उसकी भी देखीं उसकी खुशियाँ न्यारी हैं।
प्यारी, प्रीतम की रँग-रलियों की स्मृतियाँ भी प्यारी हैं॥

माना मैंने युवा-काल का जीवन खूब निराला है।
आकांक्षा, पुरुषार्थ, ज्ञान का उदय मोहनेवाला है॥

किंतु यहाँ झंझट है भारी युद्ध-क्षेत्र संसार बना।
चिंता के चक्कर में पड़कर जीवन भी है भार बना॥

आ जा बचपन! एक बार फिर दे दे अपनी निर्मल शांति।
व्याकुल व्यथा मिटानेवाली वह अपनी प्राकृत विश्रांति॥

वह भोली-सी मधुर सरलता वह प्यारा जीवन निष्पाप।
क्या आकर फिर मिटा सकेगा तू मेरे मन का संताप?

मैं बचपन को बुला रही थी बोल उठी बिटिया मेरी।
नंदन वन-सी फूल उठी यह छोटी-सी कुटिया मेरी॥

‘माँ ओ’ कहकर बुला रही थी मिट्टी खाकर आयी थी।
कुछ मुँह में कुछ लिये हाथ में मुझे खिलाने लायी थी॥

पुलक रहे थे अंग, दृगों में कौतुहल था छलक रहा।
मुँह पर थी आह्लाद-लालिमा विजय-गर्व था झलक रहा॥

मैंने पूछा ‘यह क्या लायी?’ बोल उठी वह ‘माँ, काओ’।
हुआ प्रफुल्लित हृदय खुशी से मैंने कहा – ‘तुम्हीं खाओ’॥

पाया मैंने बचपन फिर से बचपन बेटी बन आया।
उसकी मंजुल मूर्ति देखकर मुझ में नवजीवन आया॥

मैं भी उसके साथ खेलती खाती हूँ, तुतलाती हूँ।
मिलकर उसके साथ स्वयं मैं भी बच्ची बन जाती हूँ॥

जिसे खोजती थी बरसों से अब जाकर उसको पाया।
भाग गया था मुझे छोड़कर वह बचपन फिर से आया॥

-Poem by Subhadra Kumari Chauhan

junoon

2009-07-16T01:52:00.001-07:00

I get hyper.
That's it - I've said it.

I get hyper-irritated to see my friends 'speak their mind' when they are actually re-quoting some newspaper or smart alec and trying to pass it as their profound thoughts.
I dont know why I get hyper-irritated... I mean I know that all our thoughts are stolen to an extent.

I get hyper-angry when I see things not being done the way I expect them to... when the milk is left un-covered in the fridge, when the mixer is not not properly shut, when the honey bottle is left open teasingly for ants to feast.
I work hard to drive sense into the servants' and family members' minds... but all in vain.

I get hyper-bored to see 'intellectual' blog posts or articles, especially if they are written with an attitude of 'this-is-what-I-think-and-why-don't-you-guys-agree-to-this-obviously-logical-thought'?

I get hyper-annoyed with people who say 'you've changed' when I spout my newly acquired point of view got from my newly gathered wisdom. Dyooode, we are _supposed_ to change... and the word is 'evolve'. I hyper-hate it when people think that contradicting yourself is a crime!

I get into hyper-avoidance when I see certain people. I don't answer calls, say hi to them when I meet... totally avoid them. That's just because I think no good can come of the small talk. But then I get hyper-disappointed at myself for lacking social skills.

I get hyper-happy when I read Bachhi Karkaria's (THE role model) articles in TOI or elsewhere, when I listen to the mellow and understanding voice of Love-guru who attempts to solve the love-problems of the youth of Mumbai in the late night show on radio, when I sip the 2nd glass of sweet lime juice with masala, when I drive on the highway in torrential rains...

But why get hyper?
Moreover I get hyper-sensitive about my hyper-ness. I just want to 'chillax'. Why so tough?

I sometimes don't like it when the 'elders' get hyper about where I've gone or what I have eaten etc (the usual grind). I disapprove of their hyper nature.
But dyoood! I get just as hyper... the difference is I have different things to get hyper about.
Oh ho!

Budge It

2009-07-06T13:45:00.000-07:00

The Fiscal Deficit is at an alarming 6.8%.
The government has given no plan on how its going to reduce it.

The Fringe Benefit Tax is gotten rid off.
The MAT is increased.

The stock market ostensibly disapproves of the whole thing. Its the worst crash on any budget-day in India.

A lot has been said about the budget. Opinions are thrown around by leaders of corporate giants, enthusiastic politicians, financial wizards and whoever else could claim space on any media canvas.

But honestly (and it is hard to be honest about this because it comes with the cost of sounding ultra out-of-shape financially), it don't matter!!

I mean, sure, the allocation of money in the different segments will have impacts on many things.
But for someone like me (and I venture out to guess that there are MANY like me) (of course, many is a stupidly relative term here... but whatever), all this makes little difference to what comes in my wallet and how much goes out of it.

So why make so much noise about it? Most aam-aadmis are not going to feel much. On the contrary, it sets a negative cycle.
The stock market crashes. The financial minds talk negatively about the budget and these talks get broadcasted in media.
Then, to make matters worse, polls are taken in which the aam-aadmi is asked what s/he thinks of the whole affair. Their response to the polls are most likely reflective of that negative sentiment projected by the media, never mind that the aam-aadmi is actually in the section of people that might stand to benefit from the budget.
Then the polls come out and the cascading effect is clearly seen. A negative ball is sent rolling by the media and it amasses so much mass along the way that it might fatally alter the original intent and actually have a negative impact versus the projected negative impact.

The point is, most people, especially the aam-aadmi, have very little clue as to how to interpret the budget. They, in most cases, can't even correctly figure out if it would benefit them or not. If a budget is announced objectively by the FM and absolutely no sentiment was floated in the media powerhouses, the aam-aadmi would be pitiably lost!

Hence, a good thing for the govt. to do would be to step in the media and influence it to say good things about the budget. By hook or by crook. Get the financial big-wigs to say good things, the live media to get experts and inverstors (Foreign investors too) to make positive statements and finally print media to project a postive response to the poll (so even the sentiment of the reliable aam-aadmi is postive). I think, even if all this is rigged big-time, most of us will stand to benefit from it.

Imagine this. I mean, really imagine this.
Two Gujarati gentlemen having a conversation in the train and discussing how 'reliance na share leva joiye'; a doting husband gifting a peice of expensively classy jewelry to his wife; the farmer mighty pleased with his occupation even in the wake of serious occupational hazzards; the proud desi studying/working in a different country claiming how his country is so little affected by all this recession business and how its on its path to glory...
Don't we want this? Don't we want to perceive that their govt. is on our side?

All the govt. needs to do is convince the people that it is on their side. Even if the govt. does this by bending rules and compromising on some integrity, it is a worthwhile endeavor.

Of course, the viability of such an endeavor is a question mark. But if the budget is framed by geniuses whose minds have been tested over a decade (the FM has almost impeccable financial record) and who have the interest of the country at mind, then why not shove a positive opinion about the budget up people's a##?

A positive ball will amass positivity and in general, work towards better well-being of the economy. In any case, the aam-aadmi will be a happy even if he's got a highly frustrating educational system and repressive social system to deal with.

The Ants in the Honey

2009-07-01T03:42:00.000-07:00

I see them ants... all strewn over on the topmost layer of honey in the jar. It was disgusting.
More so because I never really carefully checked the jar for such disturbing sights.

I had the honey regularly. I am pretty alright. But now that I have seen this, I cannot have it and be pretty alright.

Yep, this could be carpeted under the huge floor of boring epiphany moments (blissful ignorance versus painful knowledge).

I moved on to get rid of the ants. I got rid of that layer of honey. I washed the lid and rewashed it.

I fought out the logic to conclude that it is okay now, that I can safely consume the honey without being consumed by thoughts of its unhealthiness.

I could successfully feign a fake confidence. As they say, in 'heart of hearts' I was still not convinced.

That was the non-boring epiphany. We want to 'move on'. We want to believe that its okay. But sometimes, it is more intuitive and more comfortable to accept that non-okay things exist. It is better for one's well-being.
(well, this might not be an epiphany after all... dammit! Screw writing your thoughts and diminishing their profoundness!)

In other news, it feels good to be back home after a long long hiatus.

I was feeling a little lost in the last couple of weeks.

But I sat on the recliner, reading this un-put-downable book (Dry by Augusten B). I was riveted.
And then I heard a soft flute. And then I heard the leaves rustling and a soft wind flowing until I saw water drops. It felt blissful just to be there, staring at the rain... the smell, the sounds, the nostalgic feelings rising from forgotten cracks of the mind... the familiarity of the window sill, the familiarity of the reclining position, the familiarity of the just-got-out-of-bed-and-started-reading look, the familiarly dying horns of passing cars... I feel at home. The listlessness is replaced by focussable energy... the lost-ness is replaced by the long-lost spirit of fearlessness.

I really do love Mumbai. No matter how global we go, home is where the heart is.

Losing your un-balance

2009-06-02T14:41:00.000-07:00

A balanced life is not only elusive... but an impossibility.
The moment things start getting balanced, one moves towards un-balance to balance out the balance!

Anyway, what is it about late nights and slow music and subtle yellow lights lying undisturbed under the quilt? Its a perfect recipe for gracefully sliding into blissful reverie.

The current favorite song is Sajni (slow version) by Jal (pardon the video).

What does it feel to make music? Does the creator feel just as enchanted by that perfect symphony of notes and lyrics? Or does he drown even further into the magical spell of his songs?
Does the singer of Sajni feel a heavy heart when he listens to this song? Or are his feelings diluted by the incidents that occurred when the band was trying to come up with this song (small tiffs and arguments, different variations of the tunes etc)?

It would be a great pity if the band could not enjoy (and get entranced by) the song as much as the general listeners.

But then again, builders don't live in the houses they plan and build and put their heart into for years, or programmers don't use the programs they create for their purposes, or more interestingly, Darwin might not have seen the full implications and power of his insights?

Does the joy of creation surpass the joy of consumption?
Would you rather create the perfect symphony and be ecstatic when you come up with it, or would you instead enjoy the perfect symphony created by someone else... in your room, under the quilt, in yellow light... and shut your eyes and imagine away a vivid scene... of the monsoon... in the wild green pastures with drops shining on the slippery blades, and the rain-drops hitting your face like a strongly welcoming bear-hug given by an old friend, and your bare feet immersing in the soft mud till your ankles feel the wetness around them and you feel safely ensconced, and there is an old valley in front of you with signs of civilizations - small huts and plantations, and you look around... and you see those eyes that read yours', and reciprocate the value of this beauty.

Oh well, it is so easy to digress, and so difficult to teach discipline to the mind. It wanders into cul-de-sacs and happily returns, only to enter another cul-de-sacs, as if it has no intention of learning from 'mistakes'.

An attempt at rationalizing...

2009-06-01T06:57:00.000-07:00

We reside in our more-or-less bound sphere of influence. The term 'influence' is the pivotal one. As I write, I think of my sub-world of influence. This sub-world has different categories of people.

There is the typical 'layman', who continues living with helplessly-acquired nonchalance. He is rarely intrigued by moral conundrums, psycho-philosophical debates or what have you. He has the formula for life entrenched in him, by societal interactions and his particular upbringing. He is not out there to challenge much, even though his particular belief system might contradict a point or two with society's. He, in general, is at peace with the world, or more appropriately, hasn't even thought of it. One may doubt if the layman's existence is exciting, but one often admires how the layman has steered clear of dilemmas that could potentially disturb a peaceful existence.

Then there is the 'loser'. Now the loser may not be very different from the layman in terms of philosophical depth and questioning. But the loser is different in that he is fatalist, and moreover, is upset that he got an incorrigibly bad fate. He is 'doomed'. Even within losers, there are blatant losers, who openly voice their concerns about how the world is against them... and then there are subtle ones.

Then there is the 'moderate'. Of course the moderate does not know this. The moderate thinks he is crazy and living an interesting life. But he is only doing things which are 'crazy' according to the layman. He does not understand that crazy is a relative term. For instance, it is not entirely crazy for a model to walk in a bikini... but if a somewhat conservative gujju lady were to do so, that would be outright crazy. Anyway, going back to the description of the moderate, he is ambitious. He always tries to scale up the ladders of adventure (but the problem lies in his view of these ladders). Nonetheless, he tries to tread the path between what he knows to be 'out-of-question crazy' vs 'doable crazy'. He has his head on his shoulders, and can understand, and almost empathize with other categories of people. He, in my opinion, is who my heart goes out to... simply because HE is the one who must be salvaged and helped from falling into philosophical abysses and repaired from knotted moral conclusions and psychological delusions. He is lost and needs direction, although on the exterior, he seems to be the most stable and sometimes, even the most successful.

The next more interesting category of people are those who are 'cool'. It often is difficult to find out why they are cool. I surmise that many of us find a large variety (and often conflicting) personalities cool. There are those who have a rebellious streak within them, which instantly gratify the rebellious demon within us and we take to an instant conferring of the title 'cool'. Then there are those who are cool because they seem to breeze through life. These could be 'cool laymen'. They seem amazingly happy and sorted out.

And then there is this sub-category of 'cool' whom you cant figure out. They seem deeply immersed, they seem to care two pence about society and how it works, but they actually deliberate on such issues for hours. They seem to have understood something that most of us fail at comprehending. At different stages of their lives... at each stage they have a more developed theory or philosophy... so to say that they evolve much faster. They are not scared of voicing their opinions, but at the same time, they are not over-eager to do so. Sometimes they may not have an opinion on an important matter and they confess that so matter-of-factly, that one might be relieved (if the 'cool' person is devoid of opinion on this matter, perhaps it is okay if I don't have an opinion either). They seem to be in a world of their own... and often, transcending different worlds. The typical concerns of 'how do i look with this shirt on', or 'what will people think if they find out...' hardly seem to bother them.

And somehow, almost all the people in my sub-world who fall into this (almost 'supercool') category have tried and purportedly enjoyed experiences of altering one's consciousness through different means. It seems that one is missing a lot of interesting, super-insightful, crazy, mind-boggling, life-changing experiences in the pursuit of being the 'moderate'. It is not a pro-active choice one makes. It is just a choice that demands less courage or lesser resistance to. (There was a time when I simply could not understand what could drive my very beautiful friend to diet and refrain from eating the most tempting desserts... that is to say that I could not understand the pay-offs of looking super-beautfiul versus the surreal gastronomic pleasures such delights could provide. I still don't completely relate to that friend on these principles, but I have begun to understand the pay-offs. Similarly, I could not understand why a friend refused to get into a relationship on the reason that 'that's not the right thing to do in Indian society').

There are times when one is naive and does not understand the cost-benefit analysis.

Perhaps getting a glimpse into different levels of consciousness is an experience worthy of treasuring, but at the same time, it could alter one's perception of reality to a point of no return.

Of course, there are scientific studies that can accurately describe the effects of certain consumptions.. but certainly, the first-hand experience would be incomparable.

The important point is I am not convinced that such desires are driven entirely by curiosity, which is what makes the decision a hard one. I suspect that the 'wannabe' section of my mind is playing a massive role, something that I don't want to accept. But aren't the not-so-cool people suppose to 'wannabe' super-cool?

In deep Slum-ber

2009-05-29T15:17:00.000-07:00

The attempt at eradicating, or at least minimizing, slum habitations in the city is an overwhelming task. It might not seem overwhelming if one were to shrug one's shoulders and think that it was the government's responsibility/job and give it no further thought.

It might be the government's responsibility, but one big reason the gov. can't handle/do it is because it is too sensitive an issue and the solution is almost invariably likely to place the gov. in a bad light, no matter what the outcome. This is because there is a certain section of society (and to make it worse, its the weaker section) that will be inconvenienced to a very large degree. And this section seems to be an all too important chunk of the vote-ban for the gov. to take any chances with.

Some of the popular reasons for eradicating slums are:-

1. They give a 'filthy' look to the city

2. Unaccountability of usage of shared (between citizens) resources (like electricity, water).

3. A potential breeding ground for anti-social activities/elements and easy exploitation opportunities (because they are typically occupied by those 'desperate' to make money to get out of them).

A tangential point (recently raised by local activists) is that they form a class of 'outsiders' who 'snatch' jobs away from the hands of local residents.

So lets say there are reasons to think of means to eradicate slums. And not only that, we would like to be a little more futuristic and have a secondary goal that our means/policy should be such that it discourages the growth of slums in future.

Firstly, is this a viable goal? Is it even possible to achieve the goal of eradicating slums from Mumbai?

Right from ambitious politicos to promising NGOs to corporate honchos and real-estate czars have had their hands burnt in this unappeasable fire. That is not to say that the situation hasn't bettered. Perhaps it has. But by and large, there seems to be no obvious relief to the city's general landscape. So whether this is a viable goal or not, is difficult to answer given that even the bright minds and the influential power-houses have not solved it.

And the reason for that, to me, seems to be either misplaced priorities, or a lack of understanding of the problem.

From what I understand, initially, the gov. tried to be nice and build alternative cheap (not cheaper than the slums, but cheaper than average legal residence) homes for the slum-dwellers. There seemed to be several problems with this approach. Were there enough for all? How would you find a legitimate slum dweller who claimed responsibility for such a house? Did the gov. make losses or book profits? Somehow, this didn't turn on any magic.

So a smart initiative was to involve the real-estate guys who were experts in assessing land-related situations and building houses. These guys were alloted a a slum land (land where currently there are slums), and allowed to build their commercial ventures. They HAD to house the slum-dwellers they were displacing from that land, in low-cost housings. Once they constructed housing for the slum-dwellers, they could do their usual business in the remaining part. The trick was of course, they were allowed greater FSI (Floor Space Index: essentially a ratio of how much area you can build to how much area of land you have. An FSI of 1 implies that if you bought land of 100 sq.metres, you can construct only 100sq.metres. If FSI was 2, you could construct 200 sq. metres).

This seems to be an attractive scheme. Real-estate developers could do business and do good to the city in terms of social responsibility. I personally don't know if this works, or is working, or whether it will or not.

But my guess is that this is where we are going wrong. The root of the issue is not addressed. The people residing in the slums are those whose livelihood depends much on the middle-class. The people in the slums comprise of taxi-drivers, maids, sweepers, waiters, small-time tailors etc. Their income depends largely on the activities of the middle-class. It is the family which needs a doodh-wala, bartan-wala (man dish-washer), dhobi, istri-wala, aayya for their children, jaaduwala etc that gives employment to so many of them. If they are paid well for these tasks and not monetarily exploited like they generally are, then it makes sense to give them better housing.

Low-cost housing is of no use if they do not have the livelihood to maintain the housing. They will resort to tactics like selling the house to someone else, and go back to a slum which is a more economically viable option, given their meagre incomes.

But if one were to raise their standard of living some way or the other (don't know how!), only then it seems to be justifiable to give them an alternative better residence. And somehow, given the recent movement of 'richness', the middle-class is being offered 'better' alternatives to their current lifestyles. They have malls to buy their food from (so the vegetable vendors suffer), they have fancier washing and cleaning equipments like the classical dish-washer and laundry and drier from the western world (which eliminates the need for so many servants), and we see fewer families taking their kids to local parks and letting the street-performer earn his 2 pennies and the juice-wala or the candy-wala do their part. Instead, we have swarms of families moving into multiplexes for entertainment.

There is nothing morally, or otherwise, good or bad about any choice the middle-class makes (and in any case, thats not the point). But, it seems that cheap alternative housing, given either by the gov. or private real-estate developers will not click, no matter how plausible that solution may seem.

Barcelona vs Barcelona

2009-05-28T14:25:00.000-07:00

She walked along La Ramblas, watching the performers and applauding them in her mind. She liked this colorful street, full of hopeful artists and starry-eyed tourists, fancy-looking restaurants and inviting bars, the colorful market with paraphernalia lying around. She had a tempting glass of Orange juice, and then a rarely delicious vegetarian lunch made for her by the Indian-origin manager at the market. He even paid for her food.

And then the typical DDLJ stuff happened. She entered the Metro station hoping to get to one of the destinations which was a must-see according to the Lonely Planet guide. Lost in her world, she stood staring at the Metro map, trying to figure out the way. He stood right next to her.

She didn't know for how long they stood, aware of each others' presence, and yet avoiding any awkward communication. Finally, a chance glance where both were caught

She: Do you know how to get to place X?

He: Ya, do blah-blah-blah

She: Oh thanks

He: You traveling by yourself?

She: (A succinct) ya

He: Wanna join me? I am going to go to place X eventually. Until then, we could go to this highly recommended place Y.

She: (dammit... hot guys and chance encounters are difficult to turn down.. and this was a chance encounter with a hot guy.. so hesitantly..) Alrighty

They talk and talk... he is a chef in a restaurant in England. She, well, for him, is 'into computers'. It was a fun conversation... and a little company doesn't hurt.

They saw the colorful musical fountains, and had food. They drank a little Cerveza and then finally talked through the night.

That was the Barcelona she had seen. In May 2008.

Cut to Scene II.

Barcelona again. May 2009.

She recognized parts of the city. She wished she remembered more. But cities were rarely places to her, cities were a remembered by the feelings they triggered in her, her opinions, her inner voices.

This time, she had company. 3 friends. She saw Antoni Gaudi's Casa Battlo again. They had Cerveza, and vino, and went clubbling. Just the stuff tourists are expected to do when they land in big cities, especially Spanish cities known for their night-life.

They danced and danced until time lost its significance. Was it daylight? Or did she stop seeing stars?

They traveled to their castle-like, museum-like hostel, and crashed on the bed.

Barcelona, this time, was sight-seeing, eating, drinking, dancing, getting friendly, getting flooded by feelings of empathy for friends, crashing and hang-overing.

The sights of the city are juxtaposed by two snapshots in time. The mind channelizes its energy in trying to force out a decision: "was it better now, or did you like the previous experience?". The comparisons and debate continues with thoughts running into dark pits of unguarded territory. The 'responsible' version of self says "why compare? what's the point? Everything is good 'in its own way'! They were 2 different things, cant be compared".

Would one like to be the Kareena of Chameli singing 'bhaage re mann', or would one rather be Saif of DCH singing Dil Chahta hai, kabhi na beete..?

Do's and Dons

2009-04-14T04:29:00.000-07:00

Things I am supposed to be doing:-
1. Calculating the defaulters list
2. Checking the million periodic-test papers.
3. Studying for tomorrow's lecture to avoid any 'run-time' error

Things I am NOT supposed to be doing:-
1. Browsing thru random pages
2. Going to the kitchen every 10 minutes to check if the supply of snack has increased or gotten more interesting
3. Listening to very enthralling Hindi tracks and dancing like a foolish clown to their tunes
4. Going out to drink... and getting buzzed.
5. Reading Agony-aunt columns in each newspaper

But but but... such is human nature.
We just don't stick to our decisions, do we?

Why, Oh, Why do we enjoy the feeling of 'having so much to do' more than the satisfaction of 'getting it done'! I think a bigger to-do list gives a greater comfort than a greater just-did list.

** typed while listening to the Pardesi track from DevD and munching on little fatty bundles of joy and with a hundred tabs open on Firefox. Now I just need my beer **

Obsessive Compulsive Order

2009-03-29T09:56:00.000-07:00

----- Beginning of Excerpt----

I find your memories in the recesses of my mind,
and in the portrayals of shady Hindi songs played in the rikshaw.

I hear your ideas and smirks in random conversations,
and a creepy tingling sensation passes through my spine.

I travel, sneeze, slurp, exercise, and smile with you,
And I believe you like it that way.

I share the bed with you every night,
whether you respond to me or not.

The problem (or the lack of it) is that there is no you.
There is only me.

And you are my creation.
Yet you are uncontrollably out of control... like a experiment gone horribly wrong... the typical sci-fi one where the creators are hounded by their creation.

I can't hold on to you because you make me dangerously obsessive.
And that is precisely the reason why I can't let go of you.
I am afraid I will miss you... and lose my few shreds of sanity

--------End of Excerpt---

The need for a sanction

2009-03-01T06:05:00.000-08:00

We are raised in a social structure that have rules and guidelines - explicitly or implicitly laid down. We are taught, and we learn by experience, that generally, living within the framework of these rules and guidelines results in us winning the social game. Of course, there are those who venture beyond this framework, and hence are often viewed differently (awed, booed, outcasted, envied etc).

But most of us find it difficult to challenge this established rulebook. We might not agree with all the social norms, but violating them in an exaggerated fashion not for the reason to prove that you can, but because you actually want to, is unusual.

It is in fact, difficult to even think of violating most of the laws. For instance, a child brought up in a strictly disciplined environment where the 'right conduct' is highly rewarded and slightest deviation from it is stringently punished, might never evolve the need to, say eve-tease a passing girl. It just would not occur to him. It is 'wrong' in his eyes. Even if a desirable girl passes by, the idea of teasing her would not cross his mind, perhaps because such a behavior has been looked down upon.
However, eve-teasing occurs rampantly and that is testimony to the fact that there are people whose social structures do not consider this act that big an offense.

An interesting collision of thoughts occur when you disagree with a social rule. You see nothing wrong in certain activities that are considered 'taboo' by your social structure. You are convinced of their rightness. Not only that, you feel the need to indulge in them. So, there is an activity that is given a clean chit by the court in your mind, and is desired by the I-really-want-to-do-this section of your mind. However, it still requires great courage, conviction, confidence to actually indulge in it. This is probably because your brain gives conflicting signals. It wants to indulge, but it also knows that the person indulging in it is generally penalized by the society. In fact, even when you don't care about the penalty at all, you still hesitate.

It is strange - the mind.

just another ramble

2009-02-23T11:23:00.001-08:00

It was that moment again. A moment when things fall into such perfectly-fitting place that you know you could not be wrong about the feeling that things are falling into place.

When you don't have something, you cling on to a pseudo source of that. Fat girls try to fit into the thin girls groups, so that they feel accepted. The unknown try to sift around in the circles of the popular, hoping to rise in the popularity charts.

It is the courage to leave that pseudo-source of pseudo-security that's rare to find.

It is that that I am looking for... a way to disentangle myself from the web of seemingly justifying excuses, a way to unshackle myself from the bonds of convenience that fetter me to the terra firma of the fake security. I know that this task is not just of extreme importance, but just as urgent. It's just that the sense of urgency does not bother one until a perceivable danger is in sight.

There was a time when I was convinced beyond doubt that there was absolutely nothing that could not be accomplished if one put one's entire strength in it. I KNEW that if I pushed hard enough, the wall would certainly break. But gradually, 'life' convinces one of one's shortcomings and fogs the clear picture of self-infallibility. That's perhaps good to a certain extent. But somehow, there is a fine line between what is perceived to be possible, and what actually is possible. I think the trick to attain the 'impossible' is to not let the mind know that it is impossible. In fact, the mind should be tricked into believing that it is very much possible. And then the mind does everything in its might to attain it, and hence, there is a greater chance of attaining the goal.

Anyway, on an unrelated thought, I wonder what it is that music does to us. It certainly does very good things. It's one of the few things that has no known side effect even if one gets crazily addicted to it. It's just a pure dose of super-high endorphin release in the brain. Or something else. It increases the emoting capability. Me likes it :-)

On another very unrelated thought/incident, I still retain the capacity to blush. And how! I had to leave the area which had the object which caused me to blush, coz I could not contain my excitement. Now that's something to be proud of, on hindsight :-)

2009-02-02T22:22:00.000-08:00

Movie Reviews:-

Slumdog Millionaire: Well... it was definitely not a movie to remember, or a movie that kept you thinking all night long. It was 'harsh realities' all right! And it had its typical 'from rags-to-riches' fantastic storyline that brings hope to many who don't find elsewhere. It also had some macabre scenes that emphasize on its 'realistic' appeal. The acting was alright, the actor did not need versatility... and well, what we thought as the protagonist's story was actually charted out by 3 actors - the child, the adolescent and then the fully-grown fellow sitting on the KBC set. So if you are impressed by the guy's life-story, it was perhaps the child or the adolescent who impressed you more, and your mind naturally gives the credit to the protagonist who invariably is the fully-grown fella! Aah!

The songs are haunting, one must admit. One can never say what Rehman's best is/was. But this was goooood.

Somehow Ghajini struck a stronger cord. For all one knows, it simply might be Aamir's larger-than-life screen persona. But the freshness exuberated by the newcome Asin was fun to watch. It was a pure black and white movie after a long time... the villain didn't have shades of grey, he was an obvious villain who (the audience as conviced) deserved to rot in hell. And Aamir (Oh! we couldn't stop sympathizing with him) deserved to find happiness once again.

Kya chal raha hai mamu?
Current routine encompasses a high-maintenance, highly demanding college life... and the fulfilling and exhausting gym routine. College has turned out to be a little more challenging... the FE students are a potpourri of the highly sincere teach-us-more kids and cant-wait-to-get-outa-here kids, and everything in between. Hum kare to bhi kyaa kare! The other students are manageable... and lot of fun to interact with. I still get my goosebumps just before the lectures, especially SE... the subject is difficult in that it isn't easy to excite them with the math behind analysis of algorithms. Annnnnyway... they are an excited bunch nonetheless.

Gymming is fun. The real good part about it is that the walls are mirrors. So somehow, when you think it is tough to reach the target i.e. run for the required amount of time/lift the desired weights, you can look at yourself in the mirror and smile and motivate yourself and achieve the targets. It fulfills you with a sense of achievement. And of course, the mirrors help in admiring the ultra-fit bodies of those guys who do crazy number of pull-ups. (Ah! Stay still you aching heart (and muscles), you shall manage to pull yourself up one day!)

Current Complaints:-
What the hell is the matter with all the self-claimed saviors of 'bhaartiya sanskruti' in this country? Why are pubs and other youth haunts being targetted? And why in the name of God, are chicks who want to shake a leg, given such a hard time? It is pathetic to see some losers spoil the fun for those who are enjoying life. The sign of a good governance - the protective body for the civilians, is that such unlawful shameful activities by the so-called activists should be heavily penalized. It's almost getting down to gunda-raj! And talking about the MNS is almost below dignity for a self-respecting person. So, I wont.

Phew! I think I need more muscle... and nerve as well.

Remarkable

2009-01-19T09:08:00.000-08:00

The title is a word that boils down to "something worth remarking over"... yet the actual impact of the word when used appropriately seems much more impressive than just something you would remark on.

And that's exactly why THAT is the word that came to mind this morning to me. I don't know how many times I have written about it, and how many more times I have thought of it... and yet the sheer dynamics of the Mumbai Local Trains do not cease to marvel me. It seems to just rightly capture the essence of almost all the physical laws (sometimes even at sub-atomic levels) and psychological conundrums that I know. But more than suggesting a metaphor to these sciences, it is the triumph of the "adjustibility" of the human mind that sweeps me off... even after being a seasoned traveler of 6 years now.

Today when I reached the platform I could immediately imagine the chaos that would reign once the train parked. And when the already-overloaded train came, I tell you, no one can imagine all those people to possibly fit in. It just seemed so implausible. But I knew better. Armed with experience and knowledge that no matter how full the jar is, you can almost always fit in "some more", I entered with the human gush. I was almost tempted to draft a free-body diagram of myself - there were way too many forces acting on me, and my body simply reacted to the resultant force. And somehow, the train lurched ahead with renewed vigor. And then stations came, and more chaos reigned, and still more and still more... and at one important junction I heard a scary bang of noises caused by stamping of feet. For the first time I got really scared coz for the first time I visually saw a highly exaggerated version of those forces. I saw women bend about and move in such a strange fashion and being hit randomly at random places and some section of the train being vacated and then being instantly filled with people, just like water reshapes itself in case of void in a container... all this coupled with that loud banging noise. A low shriek escaped my mouth.

I guess I hadn't Indianized enough yet. Or perhaps I will always be mesmerized by these things. But what truly was the icing was a woman, amidst all this, told her train-companion "I have been standing on just one foot for half an hour now." and then continued her conversation... and that conversation was so normal, so away from all the noise and crowd, almost equivalent to a conversation I would have with a friend over choco-vloc in Cafe Coffee Day.

How much can people get immunized?

One school of thought professes that the fact that we readily accept bullsh*^ without complaining is the reason we are given bullsh*&. We need to stop accepting such (inhuman?) conditions of travel (work, whatever else that we accept) if we want to bring about a change.

But somehow I don't buy that. I'd like to think that if we make the most of what we are and what we are given, and don't expect things to improve or hope to live in the make-believe world of a better lifestyle, we are much better off and perhaps much happier for it.
And somehow that belief was concretized when one day I saw an urchin girl at the Bandra signal smile jubilantly when I bought her roses. THAT'S ALL SHE WANTED! And that's a great thing. Instead of pitying her, I started envying her. It was so simple for her to feel a sense of achievement and happiness. And that's not because she has low standard of aims. That's probably one of the highest things she can aim of given her 'world' ie her social system. She knows not of the powers of the information revolution or of the gastronomic delights of the choco-vloc of CCD.

What all of us want is to socially or monetarily or in whatever way, reach the top in our 'world'. The vaster your world, and greater the number of people that reside in it, greater is the competition... and hence lesser the chance that you would reach the 'top'.

The idea is live in a small cocoon and live to die a happy man! ;-)

Happy New Year

2009-01-01T10:14:00.000-08:00

I have noticed it to be common for people to get more excited about planning for an event than during that event. And this holds especially true for occasions that are touted as ideal days for unchecked revelry and crazy bashes.

New Year's Eve has invariably been less exciting than I expect it to be for almost all the 24 years of my life, save the eves which I spent with myself at home (they were deeply fulfilling).

But this year was different. The location, the atmosphere, the people, the weather, my friends... the vibes.

There is something to be said about an age when you truly understand your friends. You may not approve of their ways or in fact, even dissent them. But you are at peace with them. They do not bother you. And you don't bother to prove to them that you are cool. They know that... or it does not matter anyway.

You don't have to hold the glass in a particular way, or have your hair done. You don't have to care about overdressing or get embarrassed about those 'funny' jokes that got no one to laugh.
And most of all, you don't care about how you dance. You twirl and toss and walk around zig zag... you got no new moves... you do ghaati dance on English numbers and couple dance on bhangras... you do whatever the hell you want... and see that sense of liberty in the eyes of your friends as well..

Ah! The joy that comes with liberated dancing... the right Bollywood tracks - that perfect concoction of lyrics and gyrating music... and the perfect concoction of a Screwdriver... and the perfect blend of people around you.

Four hours of non-stop revelry gets you in shape for the New Year... you embrace it with the love and acceptance you generally don't allow yourself to feel :-)

Stream of thoughts

2008-12-07T12:35:00.000-08:00

The desire to express often surpasses the desire to suppress,

The hope of a perfect life is more realistic than the knowledge of a realistic life.

The music that fills the ears takes one to a different land.... where all, but the bliss of the music, disappears.

What is it about applying one's creativity that pushes one into a zone where one is almost 100% involved in the task at hand?

And why does the mind behave strangely when an old companion is visibly happy with someone else?

In spite of all the broadmindedness, sometimes, one gets caught up in mindless tussles with societal norms.

And it's weird. One knows and fully fathoms and acknowledges the necessity of sorrow/grief/longingness. Yet, one wishes for it to get over. And how!

I like Hindi movies where they try to depict paradise. Sometimes I think they limit it by displaying a visual imagery of it.
But again, at least, for the lesser imaginative souls, it acts as a blueprint of that what could be.

Is there really a place with limitless grasslands, with lush green color... the wind tickling the insides of the blades... the cloudless sky with the colors of dusk brightly sprayed across it... and then the quintessential fire around which two lost souls sit silently, absorbing the inexplicable beauty...

An old thought

2008-12-02T04:16:00.000-08:00

//Beginning of excerpt

I wondered what we were/are for each other all the time.
But today you used the term 'best friend'.

I like it. It's like a load off my mind. Now that the relationship is defined, the protocol follows. What to do and (more importantly) what not to do is defined.

I like the way you said "I don't want to fall in love with you again". I wish the same. I don't want to fall in love with you again. But in my case, it is not again. It did not really really stop... and at what point it increased in intensity, I do not know. But now it is like I am engulfed by you. You are in the classroom, you are in the trains, on the bridge, you are in the student who is asking me the question, you are on the staircases where we fleetingly and coyly flirted... you are so much a part of my life here, that I wish you don't enter this make-believe world... this world in which the image I have drafted of you symbiotically co-exists with me... because if you do enter this solemn creation, it might, perhaps, disrupt the peace that I have finally attained.

There is no doubt in my mind that my perception of what-you-would-be-were-you-here is more attractive that what you actually are. I endow you with all the qualities I want in you. I edit you blatantly. You are just the facade. For me, you look and appear like you, but your personality otherwise is a concoction of my desires.

The question that naturally follows is why would I ever want you in my life?
Can't I live with the mirage?

I am torn between "what is" and "what ought to be"... although it is ME who gives answers to both these questions

// End of excerpt

When someone quotes mad-or-what...

2008-11-25T12:39:00.000-08:00

and pits my point in the blog against my conversational point, and then laughs accusingly... I belie my internal complacency with the facade of annoyance

Kaisa ullu banaaya! ;-)

Know Thyself

2008-11-23T22:20:00.000-08:00

She hears the cell beep with the message tone. She feels her stomach contract slightly... and finds herself taking a deep breath.
She ignores her cell. But the more she ignores, the tenser she gets. She knows he must have reached downstairs, waiting for her in his car. She checks herself in the mirror for the nth time, smiles broadly to relieve herself of any residual tension... and walks out with a carefree gait.

The first moment, the moment when she enters the car is the harbinger of the evening. She looks at him, there is a momentary silence... and she feels the need to dispel it before the silence starts to imply anything. She talks in a fake tone, eager to set a light jocular mood. Once that objective is achieved, she feels much better. She likes being in her comfort zone... now things are under control.

They go about their normal routine of talking to each other without listening, deciding on the place to go and then changing their minds at the last minute, looking at each other furtively, playing bhangra music coupled with romantic bollywood... and in general giving opinions on each other and pulling each others' legs.

This is sooooo much fun. She feels so light during and after such meetings. These meetings have none of the intellectual thrills she had anticipated to have on an interesting date, and they don't do anything out of the way (its food or movie or food), and it's not even new i.e. its not the novelty that has kept it interesting.
But she realllly enjoys these meets... so much so that she wonders if she knows what she really wants.

She has begun to dread that her conceptions about perfection, and conclusions about self, may be highly flawed. And her favorite pet-peeve is an undetected narrow-mindedness that has remained undetected for precisely the same reason: her being narrow-minded.

On holding back

2008-11-21T12:18:00.000-08:00

She starts scrapping him on orkut... then scraps the idea.
She wrote one of those I-have-nothing-to-say-so-here-it-is---hidden-in-a-silly-heyyyyy-msg.
Then she decided against it.

At night, 2 am perhaps, she was as herself as she could be. In that state there is generally very little holding back, being done. She gives in to all temptations/desires (thats what life's for, after all, eh?)
Yet, she controls the urge to click on the send button of gmail.

She hears those songs, reads those stories and watches those movies that advocate professing one's feelings before it's 'too late'... or advocate speaking one's minds nonetheless.
She believes in that partly. Perhaps wholeheartedly.

But there's something fishy. She doesn't know if its just her, but more often than not, she has been successful in eliciting a more satisfactory response when she doesn't communicate too often. When she doesn't mail or call or communicate much, in general, the other person feels a sense of mild insecurity. It is THAT which brings more enthusiasm/consideration-for-her-feelings in those rare communications.

She doesn't like holding herself back. But refraining has often brought greater rewards than being oneself without any check on it.

Does it matter that I matter?

2008-11-16T11:05:00.000-08:00

Handling someone's emotions is a draining task.
Sometimes one wishes to escape such ordeals, even at the cost of a less involved relationship.

Is it inherent in us to rely so deeply on someone else for our emotional highs such that it becomes dangerously parasitic?
Isn't it true/proved that our happiness is 'within us'? If so, why is this knowledge not omnipresent enough to spare the heart-aches to many a lost soul!

A random realization

2008-11-13T13:39:00.000-08:00

A person's true wealth is judged by how happy he is.
It is not money, but happiness that counts.

But money is valued because somehow it seems that happiness can be achieved by using money effectively.
So, one is as rich by x amount, if one uses the x amount effectively to gain happiness. The piles of rupees/dollars do not contribute to a person's wealth if they don't contribute to the person's happiness.

There are other factors that give one happiness....
1. The number of fulfilling relationships with other people
2. One's clarity of thought and peace of mind.
3. Lack of stresses and discomforts.
4. Variety and intensity of emotions felt over the lifetime.

Many more.. which I can't articulate accurately.

So, wealth is a summation of all the potentials that contribute to making a person happy.

But are these potentials measurable?
Since there is no provably clear way to gauge the intensity of these factors, the Fortue 500 estimates a person's wealth only by the measurables, which happen to be money.

I don't know what's the point I am trying to make. But sometimes, some partial realizations make one feel profound. This one is almost there :)

The Art of Living

2008-11-10T11:09:00.001-08:00

There are these courses that happen across the globe, in all continents and cater to all strata of society... and they claim to change people's life.

They probably do.

But what's the big deal about it? Why make so much noise about changing lives? Almost everything that we do, changes/impacts our life.
Another bad thing about claiming to change someone's life is that you put that person in a vulnerable position. Some (like me) may get super-guarded... hell! I don't want something to change my life overnight, without me inspecting, evaluating and finally allowing it to change. And there are some who get excited, who are desperately waiting for someone to show them direction, to point a finger at the right path so that they can comfortably and conveniently walk on.. and they are relieved to hear the things that one typically hears in such courses.

These courses are good in their own way... there is almost always certain takeaways that are worth the resources invested into the course. In particular, this AoL course taught me to:-
1. Be a better listener
2. to do crazy things that I would be awkward to do otherwise (tell people my true dreams, look into their eyes and search for divinity, dance to the tunes of bhajans... many more)
3. how humor can be used effectively to drive home a point.
4. subtle aspects of dealing with failures

But what sticks in my mind and bothers me is the fundamental methodology used in such courses. It works on the philosophy of faith. "Do the kriya, do the saadhna, and you will feel joy within". The kriya and its functioning, the meditations, the saadhnas are not described clearly. Since the guru says it is to be done, the followers do it... how can they question the guru? They need to have faith in the guru's words and doctrine.

This, in my opinion, is extremely dangerous. It can lead to (or probably already is) fanaticism.

What is the difference, after all, in the way, say, a religious extremist outfit operates and a self-development course where the practices are not questioned?
To an outsider of both of these, both of these are dangerous.
But to an insider of either of these, they are doing the right thing.

Interestingly, it seemed impossible to communicate this, put this point across to the AoL volunteer. She was not even listening.

Anyway, the bhakti and sangeet was mind-blowing. And the tidbits of interesting facts was fun listening to. The teacher was cool.
It was worth the time, money, energy and the space in mind devoted to it :)

Matter of Time

2008-11-04T10:42:00.000-08:00

She would smile at strangers,
didn't know how else to look,
but it was a matter of time
until she realized she better behave

She was scared of standing up,
in front of the class,
afraid of being laughed at,
afraid of being wrong
But it was a matter of time
until she braved the crowds.

There were those who influenced her,
those who molded her,
those whose talks echoed throughout the day, for days...
But it was a matter of time
until she found more invigorating company.

She would steam up when injustice was meted out,
Feel the urge to right the wrong,
She corrected those who spat on the stations
and worshiped the epitomes of honesty
But it was a matter of time
until it hit upon her - there really is no right or wrong.

She defined herself as a person who believed in blah1 blah1,
a person who liked blah2 blah2
a person who wanted to blah3 blah3
But it was a matter of time...
and all the blahs changed.

Most things seem to be a matter of time,
TIME is what defines us.

A person's life is primarily a function of time.

But there are some things that are constants... like the DC component in an AC graph.
It always plays a role, even when it is zero.

That component, I guess, is love.
Or 'true love', if you please.
Something, I can't find a better definition for.

But something that is not a matter of time... as they say, it's eternal.

Crackers of Joy

2008-10-30T09:43:00.000-07:00

She was in the gymn, working out rigorously. Her thighs hurt when she did her 20th squat. She shut her eyes, and in that moment she saw Egypt... the hotel in which she had stayed, the oppressive heat during the day and the cooling colors of the sheeshas at night... many people... tooo many people bustling around the busy streets of Cairo.. and the spectacular feeling of walking along the life-giving Nile.

She sometimes can't believe that had left it all... dropped everything and taken a break from life... to enjoy life. She can't believe that she had once slept in those scary dorms, walked alone on those bright streets of Amsterdam, befriended absolute strangers in the dorm and traveled with them.

Sometimes she sees her travels as that point from which life began... like the day Christ was born. It is the reference. Everything before that is BC, and everything after that is AD.
Everything before her travels was when she was a different person... not just a different person, but a person she sometimes can't even identify with now. Nothing after her travels would have happened had she not traveled.

She hasn't experienced fear since then... or genuine unhappiness. She has become carefee. She has gained the perspective to identify and courage to ignore the irrelevant. She has also learnt the art of looking at herself from a vantage point, without getting involved/biased. She can cry/laugh/teach/learn etc and transit out of herself and question why she is crying/laughing/teaching/learning.

She is in love with herself... bloody narcissist!
:-)

Making my own sense of it all...

2008-10-28T14:54:00.000-07:00

This is what I understand of the current mayhem in the economy:-

US bank gives 2 types of loans: corporate and personal. Say there is a corporate that is into real estate... company HomeMakers (HM), and there are many clients A, B, C etc.

HM requires a loan for its business of producing houses whereas A needs loan to pay for the house.

Now bank tells HM: "Hey, you want money for your business. I see that you might do well. I am willing to stake my money in your business, as long as you show your own commitment. So, I will put in 50% and you put in 50% into the total capital. If you can invest your 100Cr, I will match it to invest another 100Cr."
HM is happy. He makes houses and sells to all those who can pay for them.

Now HM tells bank: "I can probably build more houses if there was a market for it. Currently there are some people who would like to buy a house, but don't have the capacity for it. Why don't you loan them money to buy the house? If you do so, they can pay me the money for the house piecemeal and I can build houses for them as well. In short, why don't you create a market for me? ".

Bank looks at capacity of A. Bank sees that it can afford to lend money to A coz A seems to have repayment capacity in a certain time period, say 20 years. So Bank tells A: "I am willing ot invest my 80% and your 20%. You repay me back the 80% in 20 years. Until then, you use my money to pay for the house and enjoy the benefits of getting a house NOW as opposed to many years later."

So, HM builds more houses, the As Bs and Cs get houses and the Bank makes its own profit from the interests generated. This is all good.

Now, for some reason (this is dont get), the Bank has a lot of money. So, it tries to find more such customers. Many banks have a lot of money and all of them want to lend it to such customers. So, customer tells Bank_1: "Why should I borrow money from your Bank when I can do so from Bank_2 as well?". So, because of competition, Bank_1 says: "Alright, I'll lower the amount YOU have to invest in the flat... how about a 90-10 ratio? I put in 90%, you put in 10%."...
Because of intense competitions, banks start giving loans at 100% their own risk. They can do this because of an important underlying reason. The real-estate prices.
Today, if client A takes a loan for a home, pays some amount of the loan, and then decides that he can't pay anymore.. or for any reason, he defaults at the payment, the bank can simply hijack the house, and sell it in the market.
Since real-estate prices are rising, the bank will get a higher price in the market, than what it paid for (in terms of the loan to the client).
The bank also got a small portion of the loan repayment.

This way, the bank does not lose anything... and this in fact, seems to be a lucrative business... perhaps so much so that the bigger players get interested.
Now say the bank does a 200million dollars such business.. and is happy with it. A bigger player comes and says: " You continue doing this business. However, I have a lot of money with me which I would like to invest in this business. So, you find clients for me, do background checks on them, lend them MY money and collect interest from them... and give the interest to me. I can't do this myself coz you are better at this whole thing than I am. I just have the money. So, if you are collecting 12% interest from your clients, you charge 12% on these new clients... and give me 11% out of that. The 1% differential you can claim as yours".

Now, the bank gets a chance to earn more. It continues with its own thing of lending people its own money to buy the flat.
But additionally, bank tries to find more customers to give loans to. This time, however, there is a difference in the banks mentality. This money that is to be lent is not the bank's... it is the Bigger Player (BP)'s money. And more the bank can lend from the BP's money to the clients, the greater is the 1% chunk of it that the bank is going to earn. However, NOW if some client defaults on payments, it is the BP's responsibility to bear the losses.
So, the risk which initially the bank bore if the client defaulted, is moved to the BP

Now there is a Bigger-Than-Bigger Player (BTB) who can loan more money to the BP. And the risk of the client defaulting is moved higher in the hierarchy... until there are still bigger players, and now the game goes international. It becomes news that the US banks have a great business, and dllar is strong and all that... so European banks, Indian banks etc invest in this scheme.

In general, initially the risk moved higher in the hierarchy from bank to the bigger player (sometimes called wealth managers) to still bigger players. When international entities got involved, the risk got diversified across the world.

In principle, many people across the globe contributed to give the client A, B and C the power to buy his house.

It was all good until a dreaded thing happened. Real-estate pries went down. For instance, a house that cost 100million today, costed say 90million tomo. Now A thinks... "I have paid 5million of my loan back. But what if I chose not to pay anymore? I can give the house key back to the bank... and get a new home in the market for just 90million. So, I spend a total of 95M vs 100M." The Banks got keys to many houses. In short, many people defaulted on the payments.
So, all the banks started selling those houses. Because of greater supply than the demand, the prices spiralled.

This caused a negative cycle. The bank that thought that it could recover its loan in case of a client default, by selling the house, could NOT recover, because the value of the house went down.
So the bank lost its money... and so did the Bigger Players (because the risk was pushed up the hierarchy).

The big names that we hear today (Lehman Bros, AIG etc) are the bigger players somewhere in the hierarchy.

Since they began losing money in this business, they had to get back all their money invested in other businesses all over the world, to contain these losses.
So, India felt the heat because of 2 primary reasons:-
1. The international investment that it received (Foreign Investment: FIIs) is being pulled back.
2. The Indian entities that invested in this business lost their money.. and they were the Indian big players like ICICI.

From a rough statistical data, only 5 billion dollars of the total 55 billion dollars of foreign investment has been pulled back. And India is in panic mode. 30% of the money around is from foreign investors, and 70% is domestic. In worst case scenario, if ALL 30% were to be pulled back by the foreigners, the 100% has to be satisfied by the 70% that we domestically contribute.

This probably causes an extremely negative market sentiment and indices of growth/success/stability/hope (like the Sensex, Real Estate morale) spiral down cascadingly.

It is believed (by dad :) ) that the worst has not yet arrived.

There are too many Qs.
1. Primarily, what went wrong?
What I don't understand is how does the tide turn? What causes it?

2. This business of loaning money to clients and having a hierarchical system for that, has been in effect since 10-15 years. Why did it collapse NOW?

3. Also, why are some economies resilient to these damages, and others more vulnerable?

Perhaps, to understand these things, one needs a deeper AND wider know-how of things. Or one needs a dad like mine... who can tone (dumb?) down the talk to my level. (Claimer: any mistakes are a part of MY misunderstanding).

But if nothing else, the current scenarios do make for fascinating coffee-table discussion and ruminations and speculations... As interestingly observed by dad's friend that "Worth has become vyarth, and notional losses have become national losses"
:)

The real damage

2008-10-18T06:42:00.000-07:00

Wi-fi is disabled in our college. Strangely enough, the same people have taken contradictory stand on it... so much so that they have shifted their sides more than 3 times. This is almost unpardonable...

When the college became wi-fi enabled, people gloated with pride... They started quoting bandwidth, signal strength and all that... in many a places, it was quoted as the strength of the college. And then, this city was attacked using an insecure wifi... and there was a cascade of disconnections. Suddenly, people were now proud to have made our college more secure by disabling wifi. The wifi range was 'so good' that someone sitting in the car outside college could use it.

But then, the big fish arrived to judge the small fish.... guys from the central board came to accredit the college based on facilities and infrastrucutre and other parameters they deem fit. Now, college had boasted of wifi. So, they turned it on for a couple of days... to boast of how we embrace technology and all.

This is not just two-facedness, but changing the face too many times. It is a pity that the minds that run a prestigious college should so openly participate in a farce.

But worse, in my opinion, is that the anti-social elements succeeded in scaring educationist and professors of computer engineering courses enough to switch off wifi (a lifeline of this age). Instead of being proud that by disabling wifi we have made the college a safer place, we should be ashamed that we had to recede, to ashamedly take a step back. Instead of using preventive methods, we simply used escapism.

A strong opinion on not having one...

2008-10-09T02:42:00.000-07:00

The world's biggest smoking ban has been imposed in this country. That too, on a markedly auspicious and sentimental (for some) day, making it all the more difficult for the opponents to overcome the resulting moral support this law gets.

Having a categorical view on such a subject does not seem justified, and that is because having such a view requires the viewers to have experienced/experimented with both sides. Smoking may be physically injurious to health, but it probably gives a much-needed temporary relief to the smoker. Same with many 'vices' of society, especially Indian society. For instance, smoking weed (marijuana, or ganja) is not proved to cause or instigate lung cancer. And the psychosomatic relief and joy obtained from it is unparalleled (perhaps preceded by higher drugs).

This is not to say that consuming drugs, smoking tobacco, premarital relationships/sex, live-ins, and all other taboos are necessarily right. It is just that it is not clear whether indulging in them is good or bad.

I recently got into a mild argument with an acquaintance who happened to be a doctor. When I expressed my disapproval at the law nonchalantly, she was most offended. "You should see the patients of extensive smoking... their un-seeable swollen lips... their pain and suffering", she said with a tone which was irritatingly righteous.

I think the problem is that that which we see appears more gory than that which may be gorier but cannot be seen. Just because one can see the pain and suffering and the sights which caused one to convulse with nausea, does not mean that there aren't worse cases of suffering. Perhaps smoking caused the patient to eventually suffer after some 40 years of regular smoking. But can't you see the interim relief he got, the smile on his face while sharing a smoke with colleagues or friends, enjoying the temporary state of bliss? Perhaps he should have controlled it to not let it worsen. But the real debate is - are years of engagement in a potentially 'harmful' activity which gives one considerable joy/relief/happiness really that bad that a government has to step in and debatably compromise on individuals' right of choice?

The only redemption for the law is that the government is trying to protect those who do not smoke from the ill-effects pf passive smoking. In that case, doing that in Mumbai is almost laughable where some reliable statistic says that staying in Mumbai is equivalent to smoking a half a pack of cigarettes everyday. However, overlooking that, it is understandable if such a law is to be enforced in really confined places where passive smoking is inevitable. But banning it in the open-space of Mocha, near the paanwala, in any remotely public place even if it is open-air, is pushing it.

I think we have forgotten that health is not confined to only physical health, but mental/emotional health is just as important, if not more. In that case, (case 1) A's smoke causing B to smoke passively is probably not as bad as (case 2) A's insulting and demeaning behavior causing mental turmoil/stress/depression in B. The govt is doing a lot for the victims of passive smoking coz it is detriment to B's physical health. But is the govt or any agency of power doing anything to stop/contain adverse effects to B's mental health?

There are many ways to look at it. And getting back to the original point, no individual or entity, be it government or society or parents, can have a categorical view on such activities without having tasted both sides.

Reflections

2008-10-06T07:10:00.000-07:00

It was a Sunday, and she was on Carter Road. Sitting. Staring... into the space and years.

She could see a lot of couples. And more bystanders trying to watch the couples. Yet, the couples were in oblivion, and knew how to have fun clandestinely.
She smiled at their victory vicariously.

The place seemed so familiar it almost made her uncomfortable. She realized that she had not forgotten much. It was just that she never experienced the right triggers that activated these memory cells. Now that she saw the same setting, she could identify even with the crevices on the rocks... They were their sinhaasans, once upon a time, those rocks... thrones on which the two of them sat and watched the world pass by, drew generously large conclusions, made small talk and big talk alike, tried to impress, tried to understand, kissed, groped, made unfinished love, solved mid-day crossword and basked in the glory of getting the 9-letter word.

And for an instant she felt filmy. She thought that she would give up all that that made her 'grow up', her foreign education, her degree, her mature mindset... hell, even her travels... only if she could get back that untainted joy of companionship.

She knows it is not him that she yearns. It is the companionship... that feeling of speaking one's mind, of getting honest opinion/advice/feedback, of knowing a new perspective, of laughing together.

She fiercely guards her independence... but at the same time, hopes for someone to rightfully snatch it away.

Plain Updates

2008-10-04T14:13:00.000-07:00

Time for a new blog post... I am happy, relaxed and 'de-stressed' as a friend pointed out.

It's 2.40am on Saturday night, and I just got back from a totally kick-ass session with friends... Absolutely unwound! It started with going for Garba (being deprived of Mumbai garba for 2 years) with Falguni in her elements.... followed by cheese pav bhaaji and sandwich and good ol' ThumbsUp at Shivsaagar, and then the soothing Double Apple sheesha at Mocha.... and then the interesting drive back home... all this tinted with the 'haraaaami jokes' and bakwaas PJs and reminsicizing days of yore...

Ah! There is little that can beat the raw freedom of dancing Garba to Falguni's tunes... Andar kaa jaanwar utth jaata hai. There comes a point where nothing matters, and you are one with the music... the crescendo and the eventual climax take you to a new plane where it's only you, your rhythm and the music.. and if you break out of that mode, you see all others still in trance...
It's almost soulful.
Also, there is an inexplicable joy in understanding others' in the group and getting the same step in 4 beats. Just recently I tried choreographing a dance, and I realized how tough it is to get people to synchronize their dance steps... but somehow, that is not the case with those who understand garba... I don't know if it is in 'our blood' (if there is such a thing), but the synch definitely happes much easily and quickly..

Sameer, Hetal, PG, Mani... I love you all... I laughed until my eyes cried and stomach ached. It felt so good to do absolute bakwaas.... Being a teacher, I end up re-thinking and filtering my talks much more than I ever did... but today, it was pretty crazy...

Apart from all this dancing and garba, the students of TSE are crazy. They sang the Happy Bday song for me twice in 1 month.. coupled with loud hooting and banging of benches. But I love this job... I am learning a lot about interaction with another breed of people. And they are very cooooool... in fact, I am afraid I might fancy them.

Many more updates.. but now it is time for my dandiya-energized-but-simultaneously-exhausted body to relax.

On Patriotism

2008-08-31T11:57:00.000-07:00

It is something that aggravates people enough to stake their lives over.
It is something that unites countries over most of the statistics and surveys.
It is something that make citizens proud, or ashamed... it is the driving force in international clashes. In fact, the very word international says something about the existence of nations, and hence patriotism.

Is this an innate emotion? Are we born with a capacity for love for the community/society/country that we are born in? Or does it come out of constant direct effort and implicit nurture?

For me, it is a confusing emotion. I can never really defend it, and yet I can't deny the sense of belonging that I feel because of it. It makes the girl studying abroad search for Indian videos on youtube, watch over and over again the ad of 'chalo India' with a sense of pride and belonging and a drive to 'do something for her nation'.

The songs of Swades, Guru... the Teach India campaign.. the festivals all around the year... even the Bollywood songs and dancing... the jhumkas and the latkas and the matkas... letting a guy run along the local train an assist him board it in spite of the compartment brimming with passengers... the mithais distributed whole-heartedly in tyohars... the fanaticism over anything Indian, be it cricket or be it parampara/sanskruti... the un-definable yet omnipresent Indian-ness that is unqie and pride-worthy most of the time.

Well, there are probably many things here... but patriotism is the word associated with the feeling of pride and belonging one feels to one's homeland (IMO).

It makes millions cry when it is showed in one angle - the Lagaan or Swades angle... in each case, India triumphs against a foreign power. In Lagaan it is a direct clash between two cultures... whereas in Swades it is more subtle... it lies in the questions that plague the mind that has to choose between two cultures. And eventually, patriotism triumphs.

But it just as well makes millions squirm in their seats when they see the price to be paid for it, or the anti-growth activities flourishing and being supported rampantly in the name of patriotism. In general, looking down upon other cultures/countries in an inevitable by-product of patriotism, or so it seems. In the showdown between patriotism and peace, patriotism wins by a hands-down majority, as the newspapers tell us about the Kashmir issue.

Is it a necessary emotion? Why are we 'patriotic' about our country? Why is granularization fixed to that point? Why not a continent? We don't hear someone being proud of being an 'Asian'. And why not to a greater granularity - a state, or a city or a family? Patriotism is promoted on such a large scale that we are explicitly told not to put religion/sect ahead of country. Sharukh, in Chak De India asks each player to be proud of being an Indian, and not a Punjabi or Gujurati. Well, well, why not ask her to be proud of being a human? I mean, why are the bounndaries of countries embossed on the world map, and not the continents/state/cities or any other significant landmark? Aren't countries created for the purpose of convenient governance/handling of people? There isn't and there probably should not be anything more than the significance of that convenience attached to what people think about their country.

But there is an inexplicable joy in that sense of belongingness. Is patriotism necessary? Is it beneficial? And if it isn't either of those, can it be replaced, or will its removal make a void in the emotional factory section of the human minds?

And going by a new angle that I consider these days, is a patritic person genetically superior? In the game for survival of the fittest, the qualities that do not matter, or those do not give the entity an advantage over another, are lost over the long term. So, if one were to bet on it, would Patriotism survive through millions of generation and triumph as an advantageous/winning emotion to be eventually coded in the genetic material, or will it lose its wajood?

What I really want is...

2008-08-24T06:02:00.000-07:00

an avenue, be it a place or a school or a simulated environment or a program that I can upload in my brain... but something that can make me see things from someone else's point of view.

It seems to me that it is not THAT difficult to create such a device/atmosphere. And that if such a machine is created, it'll be the next big thing.

A badly done job!

2008-08-22T10:49:00.000-07:00

You have ideals/principles/ethics/morals... perhaps all these of yours are entirely self-defined.
But you have them nonetheless. And at times, at the cost of judging prematurely, you shun those who think otherwise.

And then, you who endorsed these principles, violate them... you compromise your values.

And then, nothing is worse than hindsight guilt. You can't live in the present coz your mind can't let go of that wrong-doing.

What is one to do? Sometimes there is no praayashchit. And sometimes, the guilt is the worst punishment.

Living this way

2008-08-18T13:32:00.000-07:00

is not too difficult.

There was a time when the 'if onlys' haunted her. The roads, the restaurants and the pav bhaajis in those restaurants, the trains and the rides, the staircase of the college and the small window on it, the fresh breath of air on bandstand, the smart student in the class, the movies... all of this meant an emotional hiccup. Before she would realize what was happening, she would be attacked by the pang.

But now it seems comfortable. There is comfort in longingness, and in tolerance... there is joy in looking at the yellow-lit building in the slums, the bright green masjod ad the Islam flag, there is joy in being called Ma'am, there is freedom and a vantage point to view the worldly struggle from.

There is the joy of playing music in the background and writing a blog post.

That unsuspecting moment...

2008-08-15T04:27:00.000-07:00

that's the moment when I fall in love... I am listening to a song that I have heard innumerable times. But just that one time, in an unsuspecting moment, I am hit by something about it. And it wins my hearts and a higher ranking on iTunes.

Same with people. I know them for years, have interacted with them in many ways. But all it takes is - I dont know what about that moment - that somehow all they've done, and all they believe in, seems to be appropriate and make sense... Perhaps not defensible, but justifiable.

And then... it even works the other way. There are things I take for granted, and beliefs that I have comfortably defended. But something shakes them. And after the initial discomfort, I begin to see what I had totally ignored. I begin to question that which I was sure of.

Well, it may be because of the people I am interacting with these days. But surely enough, I am not as open-minded as I assumed myself to be. I react too strongly, too soon. I quickly dismiss things that don't suit me, and favor those that do. But I credit that to an efficient judiciary system of my body, I claim that I know what I am doing. I say no to pills too soon, and say yes to bollywood too soon. I believe basic physics is an obvious consequence of natural instincts, and so when NandaBai cant shut the door and can't figure out which way to shut it, I am surprised. Isn't it obvious? Well, that's my shortsightedness. I am impulsively put off by English music - heavy metal/hard rock/rock/soft rock/alternative/trance and all those things that I don't understand. I put them in a category of 'English music'. Only when I was forced to listen to some songs from those category did Sir Elton John become a fav. I didn't want to look feminine for the fear of loosing my boyish charm. I stubbornly refuse anything that make it seem that I am trying to enhance my appearance. But now I am stuck with a penchant for ear-rings and salwaar kameez.

There are countless such cases... but well, does having preferences mean lack of open-mindedness? Well, to answer my own Q, no. But having fixed beliefs is the opposite. And although I always thought I had preferences, most of them turned out to be fixed beliefs.

It's a scary ground to stand on when opinion of self changes. When the primary quality you were proud of about yourself, ceases to exist... and you realized that it perhaps never existed.

You fear that you will age now.

opening the mind

2008-08-13T13:06:00.000-07:00

Emotions are potentials. We, as human beings, have the potential to emote. These emotions are then mapped to the society we live in (and society implies our sphere of influence), such that they fit that society. The settings of the knob of each emotion is set according to the comfort level of that setting in the society we interact with.

I don't understand when phrases like "your mind makes you believe BLAH", or "the mind plays tricks" etc. There is no you and your mind. Its all the same. You are your mind. A person is defined by his beliefs/culture/philosophy/morals... all of which are residents of the mind. We live in our minds.
To understand this, to really get a feel, one must alter one's mind. By alter, I mean, live in a (hopefully) temporarily different residence to realize how different different residences can be. A small dose of an opiate can give a sense of that. And it drives home a point that may never be driven home otherwise.

Screwing around with the mind is the way to get that kick that you can't get anywhere else. Agreed.

And although it is a scary process with scarier prospects, it is probably challenging in certain intellectual ways.

An awe-inspiring sight

2008-08-05T09:26:00.001-07:00

How close can you get to someone?

Initially we pull out the 'best-looking' garb and adorn ourselves with it. Then we gradually shed it, giving the other entity a 'taste' of the real us. And then, if we sense it going down well, we start shedding and letting the true light sine through.. and all that.

But can we completely be ourselves in presence of someone else? Some things about us are so personal that perhaps NO ONE will ever see/know. After decades of companionship, couples sense that they know all there is to know about each other. True. But there is, perhaps, still a boundary.. a thin but existing wall of privacy that can't be completely gotten away with.

It is difficult to define that boundary. What I can do is give instances of things/activities that can only be done in privacy. Of course, it can be argued that this has nothing much to do with 'sharing and enjoying each others' company'. But whatever!
So, my sister once told me that you should eventually be so close to your husband that you can fart in bed without anything becoming uncomfortable. I say "aaargh!"

But I saw something beyond it today. It was not a romantic companionship, though.

As the local train by which I was traveling passed Mahim, the usual stench of uncleared refuse filled the air. And there outside, in all the muck and lazy, unplucked weeds and dead-plastic choked tracks and the rotten garbage from months... far far away from all the palpable and unbearable filth, sat two friends, sharing a joke. One said something to the other, and the other smiled. Both of them had a ghamla (a container of water) in their hand... and both of them were chatting not over chai, or naashta, or around the corner of the street. They were chatting while defecating.

However repulsive it might appear, it seemed like true liberation. How is it possible?

Is it the same civilize-ation that makes me repulse at the thought of engaging myself in such an activity, that bonds them closer in such an act?

And here I crib and complain when someone enters my room unanounced. So much for privacy!

A conversation

2008-07-29T12:30:00.000-07:00

I was sitting opposite her, at the place we always hang out. She was right, we have hung out together since a long time now... enough years to wipe out my memories of how she once looked.

I don't know what it is about the people whom we enjoy conversing with. What is a conversation? Is it the case that if two people can speak the same language, they can communicate? Does the comprehension of a common language suffice to communicate? Or do we need to go beyond and say that not just an understanding of the words, but also an understanding of certain key terms is necessary to communicate?

It is strange. When she uses the word crazy, she means open-minded. When she says open-minded she means courageous. When she says 'going beyond words', she means 'thinking about your words for more than 30 seconds'. When she says 'I adore him', she means... well, I don't know what she means.

When I find that her 'dictionary' is different than mine, I get more cautious - I try paying more attention because I am trying to understand what she means, and not the meaning of the words she uses. And this task requires 'going beyond words' in my dictionary.

It is intriguing that probably very few of us share a dictionary, or have even a significant intersection set. Yet, we find someone's conversations more gripping. Why? I get a feeling that I am never sure of what the person means. I understand some parts of the conversation... but conversations that require the use of abstract terms that have open-ended definitions make me uneasy. It feels that I am not getting anywhere. To have any such conversation and render it fruitful, one must define the protocol painstakingly.

But in spite of being unsure of what we discussed, I enjoyed it. And THAT'S the surprising part. I really dont know what she said... yet it seemed to make sense at some level. How can we make sense of that which we are not sure we understand? See, therein I have already worded a contradiction.

Phew! It was fun... yet I agreed to a lot of what she said. Does the years of proximity also help in understanding her?

There were moments when I felt pangs of an never-felt-before disturbance... like I would never understand her and no one would/could understand me... coz although we all speak the same language, we don't have a common pipe for thoughts. Thoughts are personal.... we can share them only by means of language.. and if how A describes a thought is different than how B describes the same thought, they will never know that they meant the same thing... coz it has 2 different descriptions.

Gosh! Feels like one has to be careful with words...

Dreams people see

2008-07-23T06:38:00.000-07:00

I am going to go to the same class tomorrow... that I have always dreaded. Dreaded coz I was afraid I'll get picked out of the many to be asked a question (if I was unlucky, it would be a 'simple one') and I'll fail to answer... I was afraid that I would not understand what is taught and feel a sense of guilt. I was afraid that I would soon realize how poor a student I am.. afraid that I would get bored... afraid that I would sense a helplessness too strong about the inability to change the situation. I was afraid that I would realize how I was stuck in a rut that I was not interested in.. not even if I win it.

I was too afraid.

Tomo the tables turn. I am anti-afraid. I have never been so confident in life... it is like finally doing something you have always waited for... something you always wanted to but didn't have the gut to.
It is like an author seeing someone read his book... or a musician playing to a live audience.

It will probably be the first time I won't pray. It seems that I can do without even God this time.
:-)

On second thoughts, I will need God the most.
*sheepish grin*

A quick fix

2008-07-20T10:28:00.000-07:00

What is it about writing that makes me sign in to this blog and start writing? Most of the times I don't have any idea of what I want to write. The other rare times, when I do know what I want to write about, I don't know how to.
The articles that I have enjoyed writing the most are those written when I am the most sensitive... either I have laughed a lot, and in a vulnerable-to-any-joke mode.. or more often than not, when I am deeply disturbed.

But most of the times I sign in blogger and stare at the editor hoping for ideas to flow and words to articulate them. It's when I am browsing through the labyrinth of my mind, looking for those thoughts - they would give me relief. It's like feeling freer... or like the feeling of having earned your bread, like having done something that makes you call it a day.. it's like talking to a shrink and feeling lighter after saying it all as is.

Whoa! Writing seems to be therapeutic for the mind. A happy realization for the day :-)

2008-07-20T01:47:00.000-07:00

What is it about this song? Is it the tune.. or the lyrics? Or the current mausam and stage in life perhaps. It could be the dard in the voice... can't figure it out.

Aaoge Jab Tum... - Ustad Sultan Khan (movie: Jab We Met)

Aaoge Jab Tum Saajna
Aaoge Jab Tum Saajna
Angana phool khilege
Barsega saawan, barsega saawan
Jhoom jhoom ke
Do dil aise milenge
Aaoge Jab Tum Saajna
Angana phool khilege

Naina tere kajrare
Naino pe hum dil hare hai
Anjane hi tere naino ne
Waade kiye kaie saare hai
Saanso he leher madam chale
To tu kahe barsega saawan
Barsega saawan jhoom jhoom ke
Do dil aise milenge

Aaoge Jab Tum Saajna
Angana phool khilege

Chanda ko uta lakho mein
Hai zindagi tere haton mein
Palko pe jil mil tare hai
Aana bhari barsato mein
Sapno ka jahaan
Hoga khilaa khilaa
Barsegaa saawan, barsega saawan
Jhoom jhoom ke
Do dil aise milenge

Things are never where you look for them

2008-07-20T01:14:00.000-07:00

Following interesting things have happened:-

1. I am back to making lists.. It has almost become an obsession to pen all the 'things to do' on anything ranging from the tissue paper (that's what we call the napkins in the restaurant in India) to last pages of books to random flying sheets of paper. Invariably I don't remember where I kept the list... Thinking of making a master-list of the lists' locations :-)

2. There are kabootars in my room. I keep wondering what these birds ever do. Mate and recreate and mate and recreate and peck! That sounds a very promising life, and suddenly all that gyaan of getting a human birth after 'chaurasi-laakh' janams doesn't seem justified.

3. There were cows on the main road. YES! They really were there... not in some far-ended suburb of Mumbai, but right in the heart of the city, on the main road in Bandra... and not one or 2, but three unforgivably unfazed cows mulling and chewing cud.. and in general doing what humans should.

4. The trains.... ah! The trains. I fail to understnad, or rather choose to fail to understand the obsession with the local trains. It is there everywhere in the train and in the travelers. Try as you might, but you can't escape it. I spent about 15 minutes shifting from the slow train platform to the fast one, then getting absolutely horrified by the vision of dupattas and their wearers precariously protruding from the train.. and so, stumped, I went back to the slow train to be greeted by warm greetings from the warmer people leaning out of the incoming train. Their joy on seeing us ladies was boundless.. so excited did they get that they extended their hands outfrom the moving train, only to welcome us...
Aargh! Finally I could get in. And I forgot that I was supposed to hold on to something when the train starts/stops. And ouch went the foot of my neighbour and I got a fitting snarl!
Whatever... the more I write, the better... but betty bought some better butter to make the bitter butter better :-)

WEll well... after coming back from USA, I was looking for Mumbai. I thought I had lost it... or perhaps lost myself. I looked for both - Mumbai and myself, in several places... in the paani puri on the streets, in the lost waves on Carter Road at night, in the mindblowing jokes of Jay, in the make-out sessions on deserted roads at night, in the longingness on Dadar bridge, in the old songs played on Radio Mirchi, in the talks with the rikshawallas... even in the never-failed-me local trains of Mumbai... but I think I was looking too hard. Things, events, people.. feelings are often misplaced. They are often not there where I look for.

Finally, I got up today.. on this lazy Sunday morning at 12.30 in the afternoon... had a very sumptuous meal and a gratifying fight - friendly and yet fulfillingly aggressive fight with Yamunabai, and then read the Sunday Times of India... read Shobhaa De's article which made no sense to me... and then read Bachi's article which was sooooooo interesting, that that made me feel that I have arrived.

jaane woh.. ya jaane na

2008-07-10T14:38:00.000-07:00

Two friends sitting on bandstand, in love and not knowing it until it is almost too late. That is essentially the story of the movie... a movie that entertains, that has nothing novel to offer in the plot... and yet... and yet, something about it touches you. Well, for most parts it is the humor, and the freshness (a word used by almost all reviews).

But the real review in her mind is so intense that she is scared to think. It relates way too much to some part of her past that she frantically shuts some portion of her mind.

In the process of shutting down portions of her mind, in the process of training her emotions, channelizing her zest and monitoring her unfounded fears, controlling her anger and keeping in check every extreme emotion... she has lost herself.
She is so much in tune with herself that she can order her emotions... typically she analyzes the situation and evaluates what her emotion should be.. and then turns on that emotion.

She is not sure if she is right in doing some things.

Does the raw, un-mediated emoting give one most joy, or is it the power of control over them that has the potential for greater joy?

She remembers her days on bandstand... with great joy. She remembers the tingling in the stomach when she walked down the Dadar bridge and saw him, the first boy she had really fallen in love with... and then the conversation in the train that left her speechless, and thoughtless... her input in the conversation which made no sense to her, then or now. And then the ensuing date at 9 in the morning, on bandstand. Ah! That was when she emoted... there was the thrill of being proposed! Dam! How much fun it was, how much excitement! It was a perfect day... too perfect... the sound of the waves, the wet breeze, the opening of the day... and sitting opposite to the best guy in the world!

She wonders if she'll feel the same again. Dam this maturity, this growing. She yearns to feel the excitement that she is afraid she won't.

Who am I?

2008-07-06T03:43:00.000-07:00

Am I the person who braved loneliness in the long distance trains,
Or am I the person who longs for solitude in the din of even friendly chatter?

Am I the person who thinks about the purpose of life, process of evolution,
or am I the person who gossips about the love life and potential success of Harman Baweja?

Am I the girl who enjoyed possessing 5 t-shirts for 4 months?
or am I the girl who took 15 minutes to decide between the right lip-balm?

Am I the person who craved speed on the highways?
Or am I the person who shuts her eyes in disbelief at an app[roaching low-speed rikshaw?

Am I the person who talked like myself 3 months back?
Or am I the person who is talking like myself now?

Well, that dont make no sense!

It feels like I am losing myself... I liked myself 2 years back, before I went to the US. And then I went to US and gradually changed drastically, and then I liked the changed me. And then I traveled, and changed drastically in a short while, and I liked the newly brought changes to the changed me. And now I am back to where it started... to India. And I think all the changes are getting reverted. I am talking just like I would, had nothing changed!

Can one revert? Isn't change somewhat irreversible and persistent? Or is the mind such that if it wants, it can display no effects of change, and yet live with the manifestation of the changes? I mean, do I have a facade that starts working autonomously, and in a way that interacts with everone differently?

Aaargh! I don't know how to phrase it... and that's perhaps because I don't understand it myself. I haven't had time to spend just with myself, talk to myself, have a romantic dinner with myself in a long time. And now, when I have stolen a few private moments and I try to assimilate the things happening, I feel that my newly found ideas, thoughts and philosphies are either slipping or getting covered by the sticky garb of phrases like 'daily routine' and 'social life of India' and 'family time' and such.

I don't want it to happen. I don't want to lose what I gained.

Even the writer's block has gotten replaced by a lack of desire to write well!

blah!

2008-06-26T01:42:00.000-07:00

She meets an old friend in a place full of 'memories'. There is the annoyingly unputdownable attraction, of course. But she has matured, of course.

They talk, they do their business, and they part... just as expected... or just as unexpected.

She sits in her car for half an hour, talking to someone who wasnt there. No, it was not the friend. She was talking to someone else... someone who was not only not there, but someone who isn't!

Some people are crazy. But they think they are normal. Of course, eccentric people think they are normal, which is why they are that way.

Well, she starts thinking. She wants to clear her head and start from the start. But what is the start? Is it when she met herself in the last few months, or is it when he taught her how to think, or is it before that when she hadnt had any personal persons, or is it when as a kid, she thought she was inconquerable? Or is it when the cosmos burgeoned?

okay chuck all this! This is big-time digressing, and more than that, it is bigger time bullshit. And she knows it.

Alright. A decision has to be made. Lets put down the pros and cons. Lets evaluate the way we are taught to, the way things are supposed to be done, the way in which there is a higher chance of success.

Well, outcome after 1 minute of serious manipulation - she cant afford to take life that seriously. She had to keep taking random paths in the forest, to make a colorful pattern by splashing arbitrary colors.... and she likes doing that. She loves forming intricate curves out of just a few points of reference... she likes building a marble sculpture after getting a glimpse of the side-face.

Aargh! Another draft in the blog section. She has something like 10 drafts in the last month, and many more completely erased.

Damn this desire to write well, to make sense, to have cogent convincing arguments, or to have a romantic tale, or an interesting perception, or a poignant saga, or even a curiously interesting random thought! All this is too much expectation from herself.

Is the golden mean just as elusive as they make it sound? She read a borrowed book on the flight today... on 'controlled separation'. Of course she had to return is quite early to the owner who was intears every other minute. 'Is there a way to find a path between the finality of a divorce and the suffocation of a failed marriage?'. Well, it was better frased, shethinks.

BLAH!
Blah and stuff are her favorite words. They epitomize abstraction to an uplifting level.

Alright, some posts dont have endings. She has to stop typing.

She misses travel!

Inexplicable events

2008-05-06T11:56:00.000-07:00

Some things leave you happy, some things leave you in awe,
some inspire respect and some evoke pity.

And then there are some things that make you say with genuine disbelief - "What the #%&@!"

It's an outright crazy place, with crazy people right from the Pharoahs to the modern day office going Egyptian. There is crazy traffic on the streets, and there are the crazy vendors, there are stupendous monuments and there is the crazy belief in the will of God.

After staying here for more than a weak, one simply gets immune to anything outrageous. Bizarre is routine here.

But it touches you and makes you see things in an unprecedented way.

When we chatted at the dining table during family breakfast and lunches back in Mumbai , dad would tell us stories and events of his childhood. And they seemed to be so different from the incidents of my childhood. And then, bhai (grandpa) would tell us stories of HIS childhood, and they almost seemed like a chapter of history. He would talk about things I could not comprehend or imagine. And I would be fascinated... it was like getting an insight into the world fifty years before my time.

And today I walked through the Egyptian Museum. I am drained. Not drained by any physical fatigue, but simply by running through my mind a self-created movie of life not fifty or hundred or five hundred or even thousand years ago, but something that happened more than four thousand years ago. While the growth of this civilization has been articulated by several historians, writers, artists in admirable ways, it has moved me enough to express my two pence worth of adulations at the cost of pale redundancy.

There was something about these people that make you uncomfortable. They did make some monumental structures, and they did make mind blowing paintings... but that is not what really strikes you. Although it is commendable that they could come up with the math required to build the pyramid so high, or the knowledge of chemistry to come up with colors that survived through 5000 years, it is their sense of logic that hits you the most... enough to make you uncomfortable within your skin. It was the proof of the development of the human mind that happened then, that does not fall in place with my view of evloution. Philosophy, logic, rationale - all these perhaps are essential for survival in any age whatsoever. But I kinda assumed that having a structured philosophy or a defensible rationale happened much later... It may be that one does not agree with their ideas and philosophies (of resurrection or power of the Pharoahs), but one cant deny that there existed a well-founded (that being a relative term) for all their actions that we see today. They were a people who knew what they were doing... and that too so well that the unity and strength of their beliefs is what made them a civilization that generated awe and inspiration and a unique respect from all those who came later.

And the process of mummification makes you bow involuntary to the mind of the genius. There, in the museum, right in front of me, lied the proof of intense knowledge and talent that existed back in those days.
When I stood in the mummy room alone, seeing the bodies, the signs of well-combed hair, the cleaned nails, and the organs of men who lived 5000 years back, I was in daze. I could not believe it. I still cant. It could not have been. Could I really be seeing the actual hair and skin of the man who lived several milleniums ago?

Recommending a trip to Egypt would be redundant. I can only say that even if one is 'not into those kinds of historical things', one will get into them. And if one is, then nothing compares to actually seeing the manifestation of that crazy people in real.
As for me, the ankh is attached to me for good (pun intended).

Inshallah!

2008-05-01T14:25:00.000-07:00

There is what you know and read about in the random travel mags on the flight/online,
And then there is the stark truth you can see for yourself.

There is hassling and juggling through the persistent salesmen,
And then there is the friendly invitation to chai... as a symbol of Egyptian hospitality.

There are expensive restaurants with 'awesome steak' and KFCs and pizza parlors,
And then there is the gastronomic orgasm while eating the Falafal and sipping tamarinda.

There is smoke and dust and dirt...
And there is the single felucca sailing through the pure waters of Nile like a dreamy scene of a Hindi movie.

There can be loud commotion everywhere,
Until your ears filter out the noise and you lose yourself into the faint sound of Arabic music.

There is irrefutable proof of 5000 years of civilization... and the crazy genius of the Pharoes,
And then there is all the unabashed brutal reality of raw human nature... untouched by any element of civilization.

Egypt is surely a place that can test your patience. But just like the ankh, it always gives you energy for more life...

Beauty in the Concrete Jungle

2008-03-10T19:27:00.000-07:00

There was traveling in a boat to a remote lodge in the Amazon Rain Forest in Peru. There was living amongst the nature, seeing unheard, unseen, undecipherable (but highly distinguishable) creatures including insects, reptiles, mammals, birds. There was walking in knee-deep muddy waters and getting bitten all over by who-knows-what-all, and seeing the sunrays struggling to creep through the tall canopies. There was a boat ride in the dark, to locate the caimen. There was the slight rain (by Amazon standards), there were interesting breeds of trees... there was everything one would want to be amidst when one said ´ I want to be one with nature´

But a 45 minute bus ride in the heart of Lima during peak hours was way more entertaining/involving.

Finding out one´s way around a country whose language one does not know is an under-rated challenge. When in school, I remember a teacher telling us that an average English-speaking individual knows a couple thousand words of English. I found that rather unelievable. That´s a LOT of words. But when I simply could not ask for directions, and then when I managed to ask, I could not fathom the reply... it struck me that all I was looking for was simple words like ´bus number´, ´last bus time´, ´frequency´.

But living in a similar city teaches you many skills. Smiling and gesturing, without any hesitation puts the person at ease. Also, most people are willing to help and try their best in assisting if one shows enough concern on one´s face. Public transport is almost always safe and challenging and exhausting (thats the fun of it). Walking confidently is the best way to walk, no matter how little one knows about where one is going.

The sigñor who helped was a middle aged guy who spoke no english. NO english. And yet we smiled and talked. He took me to a place to eat, bought some bread for himself, and bought a ´pollo´sandwich for me, took me to the bus, and instructed the bus driver in no unclear terms as to where to drop me. I dont know how to show gratitude to such people except to keep chanting ´muchos gracios´.

The bus was almost as crowded as the local trains of Mumbai. And after a long time did I have to use my arm strength to keep my body in place. I heard the all-familiar chattering of young, professional girls discussing the day, the tired laborer sleeping while standing amidst the brouhaha, the beautiful lass staring alternately between her mobile phone and out of the window, the college kid lost in the music playing in his earphones, the conductor squeezing by where ants wouldn´t dare to tread!

And then I reach the destination (after pushing aside everyone heartlessly, to disembark).

It was a sight to behold. The yellow lights decorating the proud cathedral, the municipalty building matching wits, standing tall, the shops in the adjacent streets with the vendors beckoning to all those who passed, the colorful wares displayed temptingly, the discount and sale boards placed such that no one could overlook them, the smell of fresh food... and amid all this was the huge garden with a fountain in the centre. All this made it a beautiful sight, but what made it so fetching/appealling was that the garden was abuzz with young lovers... arm in arm, hand in hand, kissing, smiling, arguing, laughing... lost in their paradisical world. None cared as to who else was passing by, watching them with envy/curiosity. They were there just to enjoy companionship. It was like a typical garden in Mumbai, or bandstand, or Marine Drive, or other such hang outs... except there were no moral or actual police monitoring any activity. The world was free to a large extent.

Love, in any form, makes events or terrains or places or even activities more beautiful. Jungles and mountains and nature have their raw beauty to fall back on. But people typically are more interesting to people.

A questionable Shangri-la

2008-03-07T12:17:00.000-08:00

There was a moment of suspended bliss.

All around her were lush green mountains subtly hidden behind the fleeting clouds. The clouds moved like proud vagabonds, changing the view dramatically with their slightest movement. The combination of slippery mud and wet rocks made the path look like that in the jungles of children´s drawing books. The vegetation adjacent to the path was wet and flowery... wild flowery - flowers that have grown out of choice, and not by planning and nurturing.

The slight drizzle combined with the light wind made her skin titilate. Walking in such a weather, at such a height (couple thousand feet) amidst the Rain Forest and the Cloud Forest was an unforgettable experience. She felt like a small child out of a fairy tale, only alive to sing and walk with a springing gait, to ask questions to the trees and to get answers from the winds, to speak softly to the clouds and see the mountains move in unison, to be curious about her body, to question her life, her smile, her motivations, her ideaologies, her philosophy... her.

Who was she? Did it matter? What matters? What was the goal, if there was one? Happiness? Or happiness at ANY cost? How did one measure cost? What was the goal, again? Is it just a vicious circle of questions that get answered if the previous one gets answered? Does any previous one get answered?
Is thinking about this of any worth? Is ignorance really bliss? At what levels? Is she a human incorporation of all that she was taught in her school, home, travels etc? Or is there such a thing as original thought?
What if she was kept in a closed enclosure for 23 years? Would the intersection set of her thoughts then, and now, be non-empty?

Or should she just laugh and be merry now.. and be inquisitive about why she occasionally feels miserable for no reason?

Treking in the high mountains gives her a vague confidence... She thinks the same thoughts she once thoght in the Garhwal trek years ago...
Mountains don´t have a sense of beauty. For the mountain, there is no definition of a beautiful mountain. It is just the way it is. It does not try to fit in, or to become more like it´s role model mountain.
A mountain is.
It is happy the way it is. It does not try to do anything about it, but be itself.

That is why ALL mountains look beautiful. Or all rivers look appealing. They just are.

Does the capacity for thought make us want to improve ourselves? To fit in? Or to stand out? Or to become an epitome of all good things for others?
Why do we have a collective sense?

The path curves, and she sees an opening. The scene is perfect, except for one anomaly. Her.

Mujhko chaahiye Mummy ABHI!

2008-02-21T02:17:00.000-08:00

As I sit amidst all the accumulated paraphernalia, an old receipt flies... out of rebellion. It has been stored in some god-forsaken packet for some months... only to be disposed off in an undignified manner.

Damn all this packing, damn all this fitting 3 months of clothing into one small ruck-sack, damn all those clothes that I always wanted to wear and never got the 'right time' to wear and how they stare at me coldly and mockingly, and damn all those 'extra lexi pens' that landed up in my XXL-sized stationary box... got in the world of computers, and damn all those mobiles and their respective chargers and the cameras and the batteries and the chargers and their converters.... and damn all those socks that I neither use nor dispose... and damn all those free printers and cheap tables, damn all those close-to-my-heart posters of humorous quotes, damn all those carefully written words of Tennyson whom I have gotten attached to simply by reading them regularly... damn all those burdensome memories with each possession that stops me from disposing them... and worries me because of the fact that I won't feel their absence if I don't see them.

Phew! I am tired of clearing up the clutter and discovering more.
It's a pandora's box of seemingly-useful-but-never-going-to-be-used-items.

Suddenly the essence of aparigraha sinks in. Jain philosophers got it all figured out thousands of years back.. and here I struggle and fight the battle against a captured cause.

I want mom to figure out all the flight tickets and the itineraries, and remember where I kept those passport size pictures, and do my last minute laundry... and do all this in her typical sthitapragya style, as if this were a piece of cake

Victim of Cliches

2008-02-16T22:34:00.000-08:00

She was standing in the room, enjoying the performances.
He was standing in the room, evaluating the performances.

She was an audience.
He was one of them, a performer.

He had just performed.
And she had just applauded.

And then, he had moved down to give space to the next one.
And she continued enjoying the performances.

The room was dark... and she could see the bobbing of faces when the comedian struck with a good one. She could also see the girls in the first row enjoying the drunken oblivion more than the intellectual tickle of the humor.

She was enjoying her experience of a first hand stand-up comedy show.

She knew she was sorta lonely... in a sorta different way. It was quite a while since she had met someone who gave her pleasure... the real pleasure. The bliss of a smooth, coherent, complete conversation, or the joy of a carefully placed joke.

So, she was enjoying the part pleasure gotten out of this public event... where there was something beyond raw carnal pleasures.

And then she felt those eyes. His eyes. It was difficult to tell whether they really rested on her, or was it a trick played by the dim lights. She used her tried and tested stunts to see whether he was looking at her.

She still could not tell for sure.

Then she remembered, he had a squint. Hadn't he cracked a joke on his squint in his session?
Damm!! What a challenge now.

She looked at him a couple of times. She thought she saw the trace of a teasing smile. The show ended.

She prepared to leave.... and he stopped her. "Won't you have a drink?". She smiled. She got nervous.
This was unchartered territory. Had he been a Masters of Computer Science working in a successful corporation in the Bay Area, she had all her arsenal geared up for her assault. Or had he been a commerce student from Mumbai, she knew the movies he would have enjoyed.
Even if he were a firang with a lot of education, she knew some tricks of the trade that she could barter for more.

But he was like none before. Apurva. Or unprecedented!
A sparkling, confident, squint-but-not-affected-by-it comedian.

She could feel the silence heavy in her throat. What the hell does one talk to a comedian?? "Tell me a joke"... "Are you generally this funny, or are you working right now?".
She didn't know. She hadn't read an quotes on comedians either.

She liked challenges... as long as they were not insurmountable.

She smiled. Her smile was a powerful and universal asset. He smiled back. She ordered vodka with Orange juice. He asked her what she had ordered. She smiled and said, "I think it is tequila sunrise". He smiled. She had already goofed up. And how!!

But then, he was simple and unassuming. And they talked and talked. She was surprised. "Do you want to dance?", he asked. She was nervous again.. She knew she was good at dance. Hence she was nervous. "I know a really good Salsa place". She agreed.

It was an awesome place.. not one of the popular wannabe places where everyone wanted to see and be seen. It was a haunt of a handful faithful Mexicans who really knew their dance. She LOVED the music. And he danced sooo freaking well. She threw away her coat of inhibitions and did her real groove. They grooved in unison, two strangers connected only by the desire to enjoy without any hangups. She did all her moves, and he danced like crazy. They were a part of one huge bunch of people, all there to really enjoy dance. There were smiles and laughters and a feeling of genuine merriment. No one cared how their hair looked, or whether their stomachs bulged in the tight clothes, or whether they were being seen, or whether anyone else was dancing.
Everyones body fluidly lost in the music.

And then they left the place... to go to a better one. It was the terrace of a building. A breath-taking sight... one that is shown in the more expensive postcards of the city.

All the skyscrapers glazing with the lights, and all the stars competing against them... and winning. The distant sound of a boisterous laugh, the empty streets decorated by the yellow lights and an occasional speeding car, the light drizzle and the slight blow of the cold tantalizing breeze... and the feeling of being far far away from the burden of obligations or self-righteousness, or from accumulated guilt.

She smiled, with a sense of victory. These were those moments when she was swept away, when she was filled with joy enough to last her through another rough patch.
He smiled back. "You have beautiful hair... and there is something in your eyes, that's very... hmm... i don't have the right word".
She laughs. He laughs. "Do people always expect you to be funny?". "Yes."

She looks up. "Didn't I tell you it looks beautiful?", he asks. "Yes, it looks brilliant".

She looks at him, and is suddenly jealous. He is looking at her with one eye, and all the other brilliance with the other.

Can't remember that good title I thought for this post

2008-02-11T22:10:00.000-08:00

I get an email from the university about refund on some bills. I smile, and add it in my mental list of "things to do". I realize that the list has only one item currently.

I have to go on a long drive, and I tell myself that I need to remember to buy an audio book. I try adding it to the mental link list of "things to do". I realize that the list contained an item. (the head pointer is not free). But what the hell was it???

I forget things at an alarming rate. Strangely enough, I always remember that I was "supposed to do something". But I hardly remember what that was.

Why can't the human mind register all the information anyway? Is it a personal handicap, or a generic way the mind works?

We sense a million things perhaps. And if one were to store everything one sensed, one's mind
would be filled with a lot of "junk". So, there is selective remembrance. The awareness captures all. But the conscious mind retains a significantly small subset of it. To give an analogy, in all its lifetime, it retains a handful of sand from a vast beach it has to choose from.

At least this is what "Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance" says.

But my 2-pence worth questions:-
1. Is the conscious mind under control of the volition of its rightful owner?
Can I select what I want to remember?

2. Is the lifetime of the memory I choose to remember under my control?
For instance, if I see a simple quote in a shop in San Francisco, and I really want to remember it long enough to tell my kids. Do I have a choice of adding the "lifespan" parameter when I store this particular piece of information in my mind?
(The saying was: May you live long enough to annoy your kids.
Now that I write it, I dont think it is witty. And I think that is primarily because I dont remember the exact wordings. Duh!!)

3. How is it that when I see only the roads, I dont remember having come there before. But when I see the roads coupled with the buildings and the skyline and some more factors, I remember having seen it before.
Is it that the conscious mind does not retain individual parts, but retains the "entire capture"? If so, what encompasses the capture? Just the entire snapshot? Or the snapshot with the sounds and smells of the place? Or the snapshot, sounds and smells, AND an incident that occurred there?

Too many questions on how memory works.

If only I can remember at least the directions when I look them up and sincerely memorize. But I still have to keep the laptop on front seat and cautiously keep consulting the open page.

aha!

2008-02-04T01:22:00.000-08:00

You may try to party, go out with random people in a big boisterous group and enjoy the illusion of making merry, but it's a phone call from an old friend who calls to hear your voice that you truly enjoy. It's the orkut scrap of a roomie who says "stop being a bitch and come back" that one enjoys more than all the compliments one gets in a month!

You may try on all the clothes in Macy's and Marshals and everything in between... but it's when someone special gives you a second look when you are in an old worn-out jacket that makes you look beautiful.

You may eat an un-pronounce-able plate at the fancy Chinese restaurant, and feel upbeat about it. But it's when the Bay Area version of dahi bateta puri melts in your mouth that you feel the epicurean within you moan with pleasure.

You may consume the hard core tequilla shots or have sake with your food... but it's when you laugh with unstoppable momentum at a classic joke, that you get the real high.

You may feign enjoying the subtleties of Superbowl... but it's when you see all the males of your house cheer for team India in cricket world cup that makes you feel the adrenaline within you gushing.

There will be intellectually stimulating men around you... but it's when your chaddi-pal (who has now become rather interesting) pulls a couple of hard-hitting jokes on you that you really appreciate intellect.

You may take and hear and overhear piles of advice... but it's when you take a step, and falter, and stand up again, and find the courage to admit to yourself that you failed, that you really grow...

You may enjoy all the thrills of the witty sayings on Google... but it's when a revelation hits you at an unsuspecting moment, and you articulate it with brilliance, that you find a quote worth remembering...

You may read all you want... and write random thoughts.. but it's when you are in a confounding situation with steep consequences and a significant amount of 'pressure' that you really realize what you want. Perhaps.

:)

Driving crazy!

2008-01-26T17:13:00.000-08:00

400 miles. Or a little more than Mumbai to Goa.
That is what I drove in ONE DAY.

Yesterday was an exceptional day. It was when I drove the most... probably drove more in one day than I did in all the years before.
Yesterday was also when I discovered that I was such a good company :)

I laughed... I cried... I screamed with joy and anticipation.. I played games with the music... and won!

I changed moods from being excited about the drive... to laughing at my incompetency at taking the correct exits... to apprehensions about a blaring fire brigade who was struggling to get past me... to the loneliness in a dark road with such nothingness in the rear-view mirror that I was convinced that it was at a wrong angle... to the thrill of getting down in the snow to fill gas... to the adrenaline pumping at 92 miles per hour... to the swaying to the tunes emotion-loaded songs of Atif and Kabhie Kabhie...

It all ended happily... or unhappily (coz I did not once want to reach the destination).

It was one of those times when I could do nothing but think... and at most listen to songs.
It was when I had all my thoughts and all my privacy... and all the freedom.
It was when I looked back at life, evaluated it categorically, re-lived the moments of euphoria and laughed at the sad moments, analyzed my expectations, compartmentalized them into realistic and ambitious... and all those things that one ought to do. One ought to take a periodic break and re-calculate.

Now I have a better picture of what to do :)

Also, an idea for my entrepreneurship list - an automatic camera mounted on a car... and a click on the dashboard. Pretty cool huh?
:)

Life ho to aisi

2008-01-21T17:15:00.000-08:00

Guess what!
I have nothing to do!

Like really really really nothing to do. Like absolutely nothing.
I am "lukkha"... totally lukkha

It feels strange to be "free"... I don't have assignments to do, projects to complete (just in the nick of time), a task at hand, grocery shopping... i have nothing to do!

It feels heavenly... blissfully good.

It's what I get after 23 years of dabbling around with academics and more with non-academical stuff. I have come to a stand-still. A pause. That's it. I have to stop the player some time for me to eject the current disk and put a new one.

Statelessness.
A clear slate.
I can write whatever I want.

Feels good. Sounds better.

Freedom is a rather mis-used term.
The thought of being free is more rejuvenating than the actual freedom. The idea that "I can do whatever I want" is an anti-dote. It solves all issues, makes one feel lighter... and others "jealous".

It's a strange thing... which is probably known to all... but strikes me in various ways.
It's the "thought" of something that makes one emote. The actual thing may or may not align with the corresponding emotion.
For instance, a candlelight dinner sounds like a very desirable thing. When I tell someone "Hey, I am going for a candlelight dinner", the reaction is typically a "wow". 'Where' and 'when' and 'with whom' follow. But it is assumed to be a success already... the idea of a candlelight dinner is so appealing!
Few people have the courage to accept that the candlelight dinner was not that successful (could be tedious conversations, could be silly mosquitoes).

All this just reminds me to be wary of all the jaw-dropping that happens at the mention of "world trip".
;-)

If exploring Mumbai is this promising, other places should shine out.

Where all should I set foot?

should she?

2008-01-18T18:08:00.000-08:00

It's the same city... the same room... the same couch... the same freaking position on the couch.

More than anything, it's the same atmosphere - the dim yellow lamp that illuminates the room just right, the same silence that is neither oppressive nor boring but just about questioning, the same comfort zone that inspires her to write, the same questions, the similar answers to them... the same tingling in the stomach that excites her.

She struggles to write down everything. She is too attached to life. She loves living it. And when a moment becomes more than a moment, she wants to record it. Record it somehow, be it a video, a picture, a write up... anything! Memories are too precious to store in an unoccupied corner of the mind - they can be carelessly lost there. They have to be recorded.
How will it be to re-think answers to these questions 20 years from now, to remember her first encounter with a stranger in the flight, her first successful public speech, her jokes that got someone into fits of laughter, her fits of laughters, the long drives at 3am in Mulund abuzz with thrilling adventures done in the stealth of the night, the smiles exchanged with an unknown face in the crowd, swimming in the cool waters of Calangute beach, her first "drag", the first time she went shopping with a guy, the day when she was overwhelmed with a touching surprise, when something within her told her that it was probably the best moment so far...
when she let go of all her hang-ups, let go of her inhibitions, threw away the little shards of her ego, spoke her thoughts loudly, guiltily but fearlessly, when she was vulnerable to the slightest of assaults... and yet didn't hesitate giving in to someone.
How close she was to submission? In fact, she submitted herself, like she used to, like her old immature self that didn't care about guarding and protecting herself, but being truthful to the moment.

She remembers these moments... and some more... But that's today.
What about 2 years from now? She will have more of these.

Should she write down all this. She wants to.
She doesn't want to part with a single memory... she almost behaves like a mother facing the danger of losing her child.

But may be some memories should be stored in some corner of the mind... and it is more fun when they get unintentionally triggered.

She loves the fact that she suddenly remembers her 9th standard history teacher when she gets emotional. Arbitrary stuff! But she loves the fact that not all things that are not recorded will erode or escape her. They are safely ensconced somewhere.

So, the point is that the Mumbai trip shall remain un-recorded... and so will her flight experience.

But she is very happy.
God has been kind to her... really kind.

She kinda misses praying to him.
:)

I like google quotes...

2007-12-13T13:43:00.000-08:00

and these are just few of the MANY that made me smile.

If you stay in Beverly Hills too long you become a Mercedes.
- Robert Redford

There's so much comedy on television. Does that cause comedy in the streets?
- Dick Cavett

preserve wild-life. Throw more parties

The world is round; it has no point
- Adrienne E. Gusoff

CNN is one of the participants in the war. I have a fantasy where Ted Turner is elected president but refuses because he doesn't want to give up power.
- Arthur C. Clarke

Never knock on Death's door: ring the bell and run away! Death really hates that!
- Matt Frewer

"The future" has arrived but they forgot to update the docs.
 -- R. David Murray, 9 May 2000

movie mania

2007-12-12T02:20:00.000-08:00

Just saw "Live Free Die Hard".
Was a gripping movie until the end, when they decided that they needed to show Bruce Willis more heroic. Destroying fighter-jets with a stone, dodging cascading-ly collapsing bridges, balancing on the wings of a plane... Good god! We really shouldn't laugh at Mithun movie sooo much.

Also, one of those rare movies that brings out a very cogent/convincing and strong argument by the villain. Bruce just bullies him with his "macho talks"... whereas the villain is actually more hero-able. They did everything right, except laugh at logic. Not a good thing at all. People are expected to like the hero and detest the villain. And then in a twist of events, the villain happens to be actually more agree-able. This totally confuses the people who continue praising the ruthless (and dumb, in this case) hero, and laugh mercilessly at the wronged and correct villain.
Not good, I tell ya! :)

Which is why, "Gangster" shined out. It was similar. The villain had a very valid reason for his actions. And they didn't confuse the audience by making a mockery of it. They just provided several viewpoints for the audience, without revealing their take on it. As un-biased as it could get. THAT (when Emraan Hashmi says that he does this for the country, and when Kangana says that the gangster was a good human being) was the outstanding part. Both stand-points appeal. And they can't co-exist.

So, that was good.

Apart from watching movies, I am doing little else.
I tried watching "Snatch". It has been praised by all the praise-worthy people. And not just praised but revered. I chose it over the jazzy posters of the new Desi movies on bestdesiblog or some such site.

it took me 10 minutes of incomprehension to doze off.

Tooooo bad! I miss out on all the stuff that totally gives kicks to many others.

But what to do. One ought to accept one's handicaps (American movies are hard to get... but English accent... too ambitious of me!).

Will watch something like "Haseena Maan Jayegi". What humor man! Totally kickass. No locking, no stocking, no barrelling... just collapsing in laughter fits.
:-)

Ekdum Jhakaas!

2007-12-07T01:04:00.000-08:00

What a movie! Aaja Nachle is a thorough entertainer...
If the critics had not interfered with the general junta's psyche, it would have surely been a hit.

None of the flaws were unpardonable. And the dance and dramatizations were brilliant... in choreography, in the theme... and in the performers.

Madhuri shines brighter in the title track than most of her previous numbers (Akhiyaan Milaaon may be the only serious competition). And a lot of bold dancing in the Laila Majnu act.
Not too complicated, and not outrageous. A simple storyline that is predictable yet interesting.
Konkona does her typical atypical role of uncouth-transformed-to-subtle-beauty. Kunal somehow isn't the drop-dead hottie he was in RDB... but his presence is felt. Akshaye's smile still rules all hearts (I want a dimple too!).

Madhuri is the uncontested performer.

The list of people whom I really admire.. who are right up there now has another permanent member (other ones being Rehman, Shiamak, Farhaan Akhtar et al)

So close.. yet unsure

2007-12-06T21:50:00.000-08:00

A good thing happened. I am not proud... yet a 'milestone' has been achieved.

"Yen ten prakaaran"
:-)

Dying to be Alive.

2007-11-29T18:40:00.000-08:00

It is time for "moving on"
It's time for a closure and a new beginning.

Lets press Ctrl+R... or perhaps Ctrl+N.

It may or may not be an end formally, but it ends in my head. Can't continue without wnting to.
And don't want to.

It's the swan's last song for sure. After it, it dies... happily and satisfied.. or burning with raging desires to 'prove its worth'.
Either ways, it is worth it. Perhaps burning with raging desires is better... to keep the fire alive... the passion going.. the life button on bright green rather than a pale standby.

But happily satisfied seems to be more desirable, given one's proclivity to a peaceful and normal life.

But the current test is the toughest ever. God is being pinged every other minute and bombarded with random and desperate prayers.
If only he would reply back with positive content!

Haseen Daastaan

2007-11-26T17:20:00.000-08:00

An honest laughter...
a stint of vicarious pleasure...
the moment of finding someone who thinks EXACTLY like how you once did (and then laughing boldly at your old self)..
spinning yarns of self-obsessed wishful thinking/dreaming..
getting a quick reply to a desperate question posted on a forum...
seeing the thinner version of Adnan Sami and being convinced that India has changed drastically in the passed months...
Giving genuine answers/advice to someone in distress and realizing how much it applies to you...
creating music in the piano class...
loving a professor for changing your life so greatly...
going shopping with a friend who is so typically annoying and you love him for being himself!
Harboring a burning desire...

Figuring out what has to be done with life... and surprisingly finding a concrete answer that is satisfactory.

These mark the current state of thought.

I am not sooo lost anymore... there is a dim focus... a non-zero focus, as I can hear someone say :-)

change of state

2007-11-24T02:56:00.000-08:00

I stare at the phone. And I refresh my email.

There was a time when personal emails would go unread and unanswered, and incoming calls would be thoughtlessly and mercilessly rejected. When I said "I'll call back", I knew I wouldn't.

There were too many people. I wanted my space.. my peace..

And now I have all the space I can ask for, and more. And all the privacy.
And no incoming calls.. and no personal emails.

It's not a complain. It's just an observation.

Finding the fine balance, as with everything else, is the solution.

My first

2007-11-19T16:00:00.000-08:00

long distance drive!

Now I understand the personification of a car and the connection its (or his/her) owner feels with it (him/her).

All thanks to my brothers Kai and Pam (and my skewed geographical sense), I decided to meet them mid-way between LA and SB, which by my calculation was Malibu.
I left the home feeling a sense of 'picnic'... carried with me fruits and all that.. and left on a high note.. only to realize that I didn't have the directions and that my mobile didn't have much of a charge on it (hail Murphy for the nth time).

But being the pseudo-brave girl that I am, I went on to go to fill gas and then hit the Freeway. FiIlling gas was an adventure in itself. All the stations were occupied, and no matter where I parked, I was blocking someone or the other. And reversing the car is so not my forte!

Anyway, after a couple of maneovers and all, I thankfully managed to fill gas and then off I went on the freeway. Wow! The world suddenly looked so much more beautiful than I last remembered it. And the weather was perfect what with the sea staring at me with it's brutally wild waves, and the weather being that of the teasing rain. I pulled down the windows and put on Reshammiya to the loudest. I dont remember feeling so benevolent in a long time.

And then I thought, of what use is a convertible if you can't convert it. So I halted on the side, put on my sweatshirt and rolled down the cover. Agreed that hot chics in halter tops and sunglasses covering 3/4th of the face, with just the right tinge of tan and hoops adorning the ears look awesome in an open-top Mini Cooper... but chics in earth-brown sweatshirt with covered head in the hood and nakli rayban, clinging on to the steering wheel look no less interesting :-)

So there I was, traveling at 55mph and brrrring in the cold and totally loving it. I screamed the songs and eventually lost some of my voice. And I openly cursed and laughed loudly, all the sound drowning in the 'zooming' of the car.

In all this frenzy, I drove on an exit-only lane and went on the wrong route. Normally, I would curse myself, analyze the US roadway system, think of a better alternative and in general spend a lot of time musing on all this. But not yesterday! I laughed louder at my callousness. And instead of calling up/asking for help, I went with my instinct. Thankfully I retraced steps correctly, inspite of all the excitement. Glee!

And then came the unexpectedly mountainous route : 23 south! It was no less than the typical routes of Garhwal, excpet that instead of a bus full of 50+ passengers and an extremely experienced driver and conductor listening to Altaf Raja hits, this time it was a puny car with a highly inexperienced driver listening to "Kya Mujhe Pyaar hai.." (yes, in spite of my mood, I switched loyalties from Reshamiya to I-dont-know-who-all).

It reminded me of Tennyson's poem somewhere... I am not at all that literally bent or literarily bent... but some poem that had "canon to the left on them, canon to the right of them.... but theirs was not to ask why?, theirs was to do and die!"
Analogy - canon:bikes and their:gargi (glee!)
:-)

It seriously was the most confounding journey... I tamed down and symbolically put the hood up, and covered the car. And drove very seriously, and took breaks only to blink!

After making Kai, Pam and another person wait for about 2 hours I reached there.

We had a great time - cracking crazy jokes on each others, Gujaratis, Kailas pariwar and all that. We immitated the servers, laughed at our incompetence at immitating them.. We discussed Narendra Modi, 20-20, weight-loss... the Fortune 40 list and all that.

The eventful evening ended with Kai doing trick photography and us posing in front of the beast. I need to coin a 'cool' name for the Mini pretty soon...(obviously a guy's name).

The drive back was not that challenging... came back on Highway 1 all the way. It was fun.
Was reminded of the google quote that I had read a few days back:-

Coming home from very lonely places, all of us go a little mad: whether from great personal success, or just an all-night drive, we are the sole survivors of a world no one else has ever seen.
- John le Carre

When I finally took the Glenn Annie exit, I felt a changed person. Really. I wondered why.

I went to Albertsons... had a super-surprise bump into an old friend... whom I havent met in a long time now. It felt rather good to see him.

The day ended with me eating very delicious food cooked by all the others...
:-)

Life is good... if only God allows our plans to get executed... well, if only God astutely selects the plans that should get executed...
May be he does!
At least there is faith... an unquestioning faith in the judgment of the Almighty.. although one has been warned of it being misplaced... One continues to live and learn...

A moment to cherish

2007-11-07T17:42:00.000-08:00

for a lifetime.

I've always thought that 'when I do THAT', or 'when I achieve this' or 'when this will be accomplished', I will feel on top of the world.

Twenty three years of existence passed without me ever feeling even as high as the Eiffil Tower, leave alone top of the world (I think I reached Marathon Heights at most ;-) ).
Loving myself never stopped/reduced. But the sense of achievement never really hit me even if I did manage to achieve what i set out to.

It was generally about grades in school, admissions in college, GRE scores... and more of such flimsy criteria that would translate to a celebrating-worthy achievement.
I often 'celebrated' as well as ridiculed the celebration an equal number of times, if not more.

Today, something beyond grades and something beyond the conventinal yardsticks to measure academic proficiency, happened.
I was talking to 4 Computer Science professors, and they were listening to MY OPINION.
And they wanted to know more.

I could not believe it.
I still can't.

A small thing to them, but to me, it was unbelievably uplifting. People who obviously know a lot more than you, who have 'been there done that and know it all', are listening to your opinion on someone's recommendation.

I am happy. Tearfully happy. Somehow, it seems that I redeemed myself. For what, I don't know.
But I always had the underlying lurking faith in the way I approached academics. It is not 'good-studentish', neither is it 'bad-studentish'. Its just an approach that I think is right... not always, but most of the times.

Scores, grades, admissions are touted because they are perhaps (and unfortunately) the standard and the only widely acceptable way to confirm a person's intelligence/smartness/curiousity/
other-words-for-you-know-what.

Having said that, I have yet to meet someone who is genuinely happy and feels a sense of achievement based purely on grades and admission (which is isolated from the thoughts of a brighter future, whatever his/her idea of that might be).

Anyway, all I know is that no matter how high I score or whatever academic success I get, nothing could beat today's experience.
It may be the case of grapes being sour, but I think not... and I care not :)

kuch is tarah...

2007-10-27T01:00:00.000-07:00

Lying on a surfboard, in a wet-suit on a sunny morning out in the sea is the definition of 'serene'.
Surfing is difficult.
Even with 10 foot long surfboards, I nose-dive into the salty, oily, weed-filled water and have my ears, nose and what-nots filled with the water. And then the naughty board magically finds the farthest spot in the ocean to lad after it;s high and might jump in the air.

Once located, I try to cover up the distance between me and the board. But it tries its best to drift away. I smile victoriously when the gap between us is converging :)
And then it reluctantly gives in after its swan song of jumping again in air.

Whatever!

And then I have to go all the way back into the ocean.
THIS is when all the big waves come, right when I have to get in.
And I swim like crazy, only to realize that I am still at the same spot, if not closer to the shore.

Somehow I make it. And then, I just lie on the board, eyes trying to calculate a wave, and whether I can catch it.

I like surfing. I should do it more seriously though. And that's true of most things I do.

Apart from that, the daunting driving test has been passed.

Now I have most of the things that make me belong here - a credit card, a debit card, a driving license, a car (but I still use the word dicky instead of boot), a social security number, an acquired habit of inquiring into the fat calories of every edible item, a pair of cool sunglasses, a bikini (glee :) ), a notion of weather (but I still can't identify the molecules of smoke that others can so easily do), an active facebook account.... and a close firang friend :)

I look forward to the India trip, but not as eagerly as I once thought I would.
I like it here.

Apart from that apart, I talked to Aditi today. The only decipherable communication was laughter on both sides. We laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed. It was crazy.

There is always sunshine after rain :)

One of the best

2007-10-21T17:06:00.000-07:00

Just can't figure it out.

My New Family

2007-10-21T12:22:00.000-07:00

It's 9pm. I am at a friend's place. My cell rings. I ignore it, and the call is missed. And it rings again. I take the call this time.
"Kab aa rahe ho ghar? Khaana khaaoge na? Hum ruke hai!"

I wrap up, and head for home. I haven't heard such words in years. Even when I was back at Mumbai, the calls from mom were more out of unfounded fear than anything else.

Here, there is someone who is cooking for me, and waiting for me, and all that.

Shalini is probably the funniest girl I know. The only one who can match her wits is Prasanna. And the duo make our house vibrate with laughter and sarcasm.
Anjini and I can't do much except explode in paroxysms of laughter.

Anyway, it reallly is fun to have such an atmosphere at home, where everyone is friendly, easy-going, humorous.. and where everyone has a bunch of idiosyncrasies.

Now it's time for me to put rice in the cooker (as per Shalini's instructions :) )

Shrugging off the Remnants...

2007-10-08T16:28:00.000-07:00

She walks out of her house, and suddenly a flash of images strike her. She knows that paying heed to those images can only bring in pain. She refrains. Successfully. And she is surprised by the success.

As someone had told her - "One lives and learns".
True. She finds it now truer than ever.
The wounds that once seemed impossible to heal and the memories that once seemed impossible to delete... and the flashes of images which were inevitable... and the random thoughts triggered by the all-powerful "if only..."s, all these seem to now become handleable.

Is that a good thing? Is 'getting over' something a good thing?
Perhaps not until there is something to look forward to, after 'getting over'. If there isn't, the memories form a convenient substitute of that which is not.

But probably pointless memories are... pointless, and reliving them in the silent hours is an anti-antidote.

She looks around.. and smiles. She suddenly has an eventful life again - new set of friends (un-complicated and funny), new bunch of roomies (very very interesting and super-fun).. almost a family. (She gets woken up and offered tea.. something that never happened even in Mumbai!). She has newer things to learn (too many perhaps).

She has laughed so much, and gone out too often for it to be true, and all of all that.

She is happy again. She still remembers. But now the pain translates to a momentary lapse of focus on her current life, and eventually it'll be a distant past to ponder over in times of retrospection, with fondness (hopefully). This, like many other things, is a stolen belief.

"Have the experience and miss the meaning"
She didn't let that happen... not this time at least :)

the funny things

2007-09-27T03:45:00.000-07:00

Humor is not so rare anymore. Laughed a lot today, thanks to Poker and the players (some of them too smart to outwit easily).

In other news, read this, and I had to post it.

Kalam’s words came true ………
Kalam: INDIA will become a Superpower in 2020

INDIA did it

(20-20)

In other news...

2007-09-21T17:26:00.000-07:00

this made me happy

A black eye isn't the end of the world...

2007-09-21T15:34:00.000-07:00

thus spake Panda :)

Another post!! Right!! ... after 2 months of religious abstinance, I am all into 'penning my thoughts' (before they get replaced) mood and writing 3 posts in 2 days.

Guess what it is this time?

The weather!!!

Ha! It really is the weather. Its not a summer day anymore. Its raining. No, actually its drizzling. Since the time I have stepped here, I never got a chance to discern between a heavy drizzle and a light rain! Today I have it.. right at my doorsteps and right outside my window, I see the drops falling. It is not exactly Lonavla, but not too far from it either :)

I feel friendly and generous. THIS is when people should ask of me whatever they want, and they shall not return unsatisfied :)
Somewhere deep within me, there is a Jerome K Jerome (or so I badly wish!)

What was his line?
*After Google search*
Unsuccessful.

Hmmm.. lets insert a stand alone 'anyway' here ;-)

"Truth is a bully we all pretend to like"

2007-09-20T19:22:00.001-07:00

She walked past the houses with gay abandance. It was a cold day for summer. But she was now more prepared to brave the cold. However, she chose a porch outside the bookstore, where the sun rays hit her directly. She liked the warmth.

She read through the pages that talked of her city. She looked up from the book. Her city! Was the sight she was seeing a part of her city, or was the city described in the book her city?
She didn't know. She thought, both were her cities. And like they say, "She was a part of all that she had met". She was a part of both the cities.

As always, the inevitable comparisons. A solid infrastructure where bikelanes were separately carved out. That versus a place where cars didn't have space on 2 lane roads because of the people occupying it, righteously.

There were a million things she thought. She doesn't like reading some books. They unnecessarily disturb her. She was happy thinking about the fact tht they liked her at work, and that she would spend a couple of years at that company - an experience tht would give her a lot of insight.

But somehow, all those plans seem to crumble cascadingly. All it took was a book and some vivid imagery of the author to make her yearn to 'do something'. But that's where it always stopped. She didn't know what to do! And THAT was partly the reason she wanted to stay back. At least she would be preoccupied learning some new technlogy and doing whatever Web 2.0 meant!

But then...

She read some lines in the book further. Something that said something to the effect of "sometimes, by attempting to improve something, we end up worsening it".

She knew exactly what she meant.

How??

Because she had read another book that had that same 'worsening' as its theme.

She gives up all these thoughts. And walks back home... with the same gay abandance. She sings a song.

She looks around at this city. The sky is light blue... there is greenery everywhere... if ther eis no place for a big tree, there are shrubs, and if there is no place for shrubs, there are small patches of grass. the streets are so clean that the beggar at Dadar station would find it a luxury to make them his home. The cars don't honk, the streetlights work with a deadly precision. The waitresses smile and ask her how her day was. Even the random guy on the street looks and smiles. Genuinely. She sees mountains. She sees her house - 815 Bath Street. Behind it are mountains, and the greenery. It is one of those houses whose postcards she had seen, and those which she had attempted drawing in her drawing classes (but she always drew bullock carts with beautiful houses).

It was one of those times when she had 'stood and stared'!

Stared at all the beauty... or all the 'beauty'.

Yet it was not romantic. It was the beauty of an actress who had taken such good care of herself that she got lost amidst other actresses who took similar meticulous care for their beauty. None stood out, all spotlessly and perfectly pretty.

Romance, for her, was in the train journeys at night, shared with the gajra lady whose children ran around in the train... in gay abandance... where the chhaka gang teamed up and laughed, in oblivion to the fleeting glances of other well-dressed ladies... where everyone was lost in their own world, and yet united by journey... where Gujarati ladies talked boisterously, where south indian ladies talked of their work and sarees, where the college going chics smsed with an alarming dexterity... where she saw the face of an angelic kid being carried around protectively by his elder sister.... why can't she forget that face? It always comes to her in the strangest of situations... that cherubic beauty...
THAT was romantic.

Perhaps that happens to all foreigners... to all those who leave their homes to find another... they are sometimes agonized... and then when they return, they miss their new homes.

Perhaps... she should not stand and stare for too long.
:)

jlt

2007-08-31T01:43:00.000-07:00

Dancing after 3 drinks is much more fun than dancing after 2 drinks, which is much more fun than dancig after 1 drink, which is... you know what!
I can feel the 'spirits' rise again.
If only it were Indian music... and all those things that can.should be generously added after an 'if only..'

Writing anything on the blog means defending it when all those myriad people who don't understand comment on it verbally. Dam them... except that I don't :)

Anyway, laughters and carefreeness is a lethal combination. It can take you places, and make you feel on top of the world :)

svn ci -m "gs - current update" :)

2007-08-22T21:47:00.000-07:00

As I sit in my room thinking about the potential things to write about, I feel dazed. Too much happening, and too little record. But must everything be recorded? Sometimes I struggle to hold on to memories by way of videos and photos and write-ups. Sometimes they are permanently etched. But most of the times it is some random event that triggers a random memory.

Life has become rather involved with work 'and such' :)
The usual buzz words that linger around me everyday are Continuous Integration (CI), rake, Selenium, Test-driven development, fixtures, broken build, agile and what not. I feel superior just because I know of the existence of these words. When the tests are running, we digg! Lunches are spent discussing JSunit. And jokes are on the advantages of IntelliJ over Textmate.

Supper is a burrito bol from Chipotle. I can't get over my love for it. However, sometimes, when I am in mood to induce jealousy, I look towards the Natural Cafe :)
My tummy shows signs of a pampered organ. It is bulging and beeming with pride. When pictures are taken, I have to suck it in though :)

I am also following news these days. (yes, I know that a mistake on orkut caused a death in India.. I also know that some astronomers are not super-impressed by google sky).

The new favorite quote is:-
I am kinda paranoic in reverse. I suspect people of plotting to make me happy :)

The new favorite Song:-
Alvida and such from Life in a Metro

New fav serial:-
24.
It's too good to be true. Totally engaging.

new favorite app:-
Posterino (image editing et al for Mac)... finally!!!!!

New favorite phrase:-
'My point being'
Seems like I need to use it too much. Not a good thing, probably

Same-old fav website:-
eastoftheweb.com

New favorite friend:-
well, deep touches deep :)

plain old updates

2007-07-20T00:21:00.000-07:00

The new favorites:-

Main jahaan rahoo, main kaheen bhi hoon
Teri yaad saath hai.
:-)

In dino - ijaazat - mohobbat - interesting lyrics.

Job is fun. LMAOTFL with Jennifer. I learnt that the best way to make someone learn something is by placing responsibility on him/her.
Also, no matter how 'high up' you are, it really matters how you behave with others who are not so high-up.

'A suitable boy' is being used for recreation ;-)

A suitable companion is needed for sanity check. An infinite capacity mug is needed to pour out stories.

All is well... all is great.

The only complaint : I don't laugh as much I used to.

Magic

2007-07-09T22:07:00.000-07:00

There is something to be said about dinner in a balcony of a lovely restaurant, what with wine to drive the wit buds (toasting before every sip) and a mouth-watering dessert to satiate the inner epicure.
There was dance after that, and dance after that too. We danced in unison.

The walks in the wind, the pointed humor, the twisted theories, the teasing and nagging and giving up and making up... the looking into eyes and getting senti.

Ah! Life becomes charming with good company.
And what could be a better way to capture it than a poem?

As for me,
Ladka hai dakshin ka, isiliye uttar dena mushkil hai
Par agar kahaani poori karni ho, to Hindi zaroori hai :)

Naukri

2007-06-30T18:55:00.000-07:00

A couple of days since my first job has begun, and I already feel a lot wiser (probably a little too much than I should).

The days were marked by curious inspections of undecipherable code, eye-opening meetings by the 'CEO', super-funny talks by a co-worker followed by the typical laugh I used to laugh when in Mumbai (with tears streaming down and all), luncheons discussing surfing, feeling of awe and comfort, and some misplaced 'aha' moments :)

Another important thing. I discovered that there is more to life than talking on phone, checking mail, orkutting and reading arbit stuff on the net. (I am afraid that THIS discoverey is the little-too-much wisdom part of it... coz when I think deep, I think there could not be anything beyond talking and laughing and socializing and some vague intellectual kicks... what more can one want... but there seem to be other things)

Oh ho!
As always, I write and erase and rewrite not-yet-good-enough lines.
What to do? Probably comment out some lines (haha).

Anyway, the only joke that still makes me laugh is the one that's on me.

Ramblings

2007-06-01T22:51:00.000-07:00

She sits in a room... that's not hers.

She can visualize things... She hears those words, sees that expression. She laughs at the sight of that yawn... that I-know-I-got-up-from-sleep-but-I-can't-help-it yawn.
She sees that focus in the eyes - that focus to help. That drive to help. That determination.

There are fond memories in this room. Too many of them. The peccadiloes committed in the thrilling stealth, the assignments 'completed' in the unbearable din... well, the moments!
The fond memories.

Dam! There always are these annoyingly unnecessary 'fond memories' that are impossible to shrug off.
If only life was not a state machine with transitions from one state to another. It's these transitions that are bothersome.

She is in a 'mess' (or she likes to think that way). But she physically is - her eyes are burning with lack of sleep and exceesive abuse, her stomach is complaining about the dumped substance that is misleadingly called 'food', her hair is disheveled - uncombed and uncared for, her face is trying hard to exude exhuastion as a convenient replacement for frustration.
It's only during those dark hours at night, when she bikes alone, do her lips betray a sharp shriek.

She hasn't known this feeling. She doesn't want to.

But she likes the side effects of this. She hasn't thought this incisively in a long time. She hasn't been so truthful, and so acceptive of herself in a long time.
She is.
She has lost care.

She doesn't feel like an outsider. Places, people, cultures, movies, billboard signs... everything is universal.
Space and time.
Or place and time. Two important things.
Important enough to have all alogorithms assessed on this. Important enough to make a project on by comparing Jemmy and JPF.
Why aren't algorithms assessed by their 'intuitiveness quotient', or 'ease of understanding' quotient, or 'ease of explaining' quotient? (this was a total tangent).

Why do total tangents come up while writing? What is a tangent? Can there be a legitimate tangent when there is no particular issue addressed in particular? What is important? To write as if it's my blog post, or to write keeping in mind the response? What is important anyway? To strive to be a perfectly acceptable (and admired) embodiment of desirable virtues? Or to be oneself without a care in the world? What is important - one moment of ecstatic bliss or several of a puritan existance? What is important - how do we measure time?
What is a lifetime? What will it be when I would have lived the major part of it? A collection of photographs and uploaded youtube videos? A series of lost memories of restaurants dined at, of shared bus rides and laughter, of insignificant brain waves that make you proud, of chance encounters and the joys that follow, of the train rides in the monsoon, of the praise you could not handle and could not forget either, of incomplete conversations and of things left unsaid?

Aren't these the important things? Then why is their importance brushed under the carpet? Why are these things 'by the way' ?

She hates revolting. She hates to feel the nascient upsurging of a revolt. But sometimes, the facade collapses, and the raw emerges. She doesn't know whats oppressing her, she cant fathom why her robust logic and intuition should give way and give in to 'conventional wisdom'.

All she knows is that something is wrong. And unless she corrects it, she'll be living a lie.