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.
Monday, August 18, 2008
Friday, August 15, 2008
That unsuspecting moment...
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.
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.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
opening the mind
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.
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.
Tuesday, August 05, 2008
An awe-inspiring sight
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!
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!
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
A conversation
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...
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...
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Dreams people see
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*
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*
Sunday, July 20, 2008
A quick fix
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 :-)
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 :-)
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