I am in flight to Jaipur and as a part of my usual habit can't help but observe people. People around me wondering / wandering / sitting / sleeping or doing nothing just like me perhaps. Oh but I am writing. Is it? Or am I just expressing. Anyways this is not about me. Its about the people around me and somethings that catch my eye or ear.
Airport lounge. A kid just running around. With a twinkle in his eyes. Mischievious one or a shy one? I wink at him and he smiles. I suddenly try to remind me. When was the last time I smiled like that. To an unknown person. Without inhibition. Without a thought. Well my memory is still jogging to recall that moment. I'm sure it will be a marathon. And suddenly his mother calls. Putting an end to whatever more communication could transpire between him and me.
Carrier Bus. Two ladies. Indian. Dresses - western. Short T-shirt and Jeans. Pretty comfortable one should think. But no that's not the answer. If you observe you would realise how uncomfortable it is perhaps for them. They keep tugging at the T-Shirts to hide any square inch of skin that may get revealed.
And I'm set about wondering about two things:
One : If at all something is not what you want to wear or are conscious of wearing, why would you wear it? I agree its fashion perhaps. Lower the rise of the jeans, higher the acceptability quotient in your peer group perhaps. But then are you being just to yourself? If I understand a wee bit about clothes (I could be wrong, absolutely wrong coz my fashion sense starts and ends with my comfort), then low rise is supposed to enhance your sensuality. Let it do what it is supposed to do. Make your torso look longer or whatever. At the end of the day if you think its adding to your appeal. Let it do. And if it makes you uncomfortable then just don't wear it.
Caveat: Its not a comment on the dresses of those young ladies. They did look beautiful in those. But just a little vulnerable as well.
Two : Time and again we come back to the species called Man and its much maligned image. But then I'm sure we deserve a lot of it. I wonder why, specially in India, men have to be at their worst. The discomfort of the two ladies, as much as it arose in their own conscious self, it also arises in the way Indian men "respect" women. "Respect" did I say? I understand you must be thinking I'm joking. But then I fail to understand why our eyes in this nation have to rove so much in the wrong directions. Why can't we just mind our own business. Why do we have to compartmentalise dresses as respectable and inviting (i'm referring to Sari vs the western outfits). Despite the fact that Sari shows more square inch of a woman's body its the jeans and T-Shirt outfit that we have to make the ladies feel uncomfortable wearing around. Its shameful that we have been able to put those petite ladies in a situation where they have to watch out every two minutes that their skin doesn't show. How pathetic can we get? Or can we get any worse. Oh yes, men can shame a many. They can actually go ahead and attribute rapes and molestation and eve teasing to such kind of dresses. Well on that .. I don't even wish to comment. Makes me feel sick to be a man.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Times they are a changin'
I'm on my way to Jaipur today. Finally the day is here when I will actually be visiting the store. With so much of hard work gone in the least that I wanted to do was be at the store when it was launched in Hyderabad. But I suppose someone somewhere (is it god or is it destiny or is it just like that) had different ideas. And thus none of my team members excluding our boss made it to the store as per her own dictum ("There are a people too many already did she say?"). But how times change and how the minma soon gives way to something towards a higher side. A brighter side. That's what I was actually telling a friend of mine today. In mathematic terms from a minima you have only two ways to go. And both go up. Life is something similar. If you've hit a local minima the only way to go in life would be towards happiness. Off course my engineer friends and those who know maths may argue otherwise as well saying that from a local minima you could go downhill also! To them I'll say I'm talking about an absolute one that you feel from within yourself. And if its a local one from where you are going downhill, well that just means that so far you were on a high!!
So to come to think of it you should have already been feeling happy for being where you were.
Coming back to my own times, just a week back I was in another team. Wondering what was I doing. Wondering when am I gonna switch. It was inevitable and I knew it was happening and yet it was somewhat taxing. No work is worse than excess of work. So just as I was wondering what am I doing there, I came in here wondering what am I gonna do here. Off course I have realised and know what I would like to be doing but given my experience I knew not all is always in your hands. Specially when it comes to bosses. But as luck would have it, 5 days into the team and I'm gonna be doing what I have been wishing to do for the past 2 months. I know the usual suspects in the stomach and what's in store ahead might not exactly be a smooth sail and there could be unpleasanteries as well. But at least I will be giving myself a chance. A chance to succeed or a chance to fail. That's what brings in the excitement in life after all. The unpredictability of life is one of its attributes that makes it so very beautiful and worth living.
I just hope that the next three months in this stint would be something that I will learn a lot from. So with fingers crossed and a happy heart I head back home.
So to come to think of it you should have already been feeling happy for being where you were.
Coming back to my own times, just a week back I was in another team. Wondering what was I doing. Wondering when am I gonna switch. It was inevitable and I knew it was happening and yet it was somewhat taxing. No work is worse than excess of work. So just as I was wondering what am I doing there, I came in here wondering what am I gonna do here. Off course I have realised and know what I would like to be doing but given my experience I knew not all is always in your hands. Specially when it comes to bosses. But as luck would have it, 5 days into the team and I'm gonna be doing what I have been wishing to do for the past 2 months. I know the usual suspects in the stomach and what's in store ahead might not exactly be a smooth sail and there could be unpleasanteries as well. But at least I will be giving myself a chance. A chance to succeed or a chance to fail. That's what brings in the excitement in life after all. The unpredictability of life is one of its attributes that makes it so very beautiful and worth living.
I just hope that the next three months in this stint would be something that I will learn a lot from. So with fingers crossed and a happy heart I head back home.
Numbers ...
Someone today complimented me for having completed 8 posts! I never realised it till she actually pointed it out to me. For me the number games isn't important. Last thing I would imagine myself is running after numbers (not even if its money that I'm counting). What matters to me is the continuity of the thought. The continuity that could translate into discipline and yet not leave its creativity. Change is the only constant. And so should be the thought. Constantly in drive and constantly changing as well. The opinions may be defined over a longer duration of time. However with changing times even they should be subjected to scrutiny and changes as and when one stops feeling the conviction behind them.
And thus with this thought I hope for myself as well as my friend that we keep writing and expressing ..
And thus with this thought I hope for myself as well as my friend that we keep writing and expressing ..
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
Dream that I would live to live ?
The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle. - Anais Nin
Incidence 1: Yours truely goes into one of his introspective mode. Usual questions. Questions without answers. What am I? Is this what I want to be? What's the dream that I really want to pursue? Etc etc etc
Coincidence 1: My best friend from college sends me the URL of our classmate's blog.
Coincidence 2: I meet up another very good friend from L and he ends up discussing with me the same thing.
Coincidence 3: Someone close to my heart repeats an almost same thing though in a different context (more towards the futility of expecting something out of mundane office life).
And I thought its more than just co-incidence and perhaps I would do well to capture the thoughts that come across my mind on this regard.
What makes up the dreams? Why is it that we keep chasing them? They are broken they are shattered? Then we build more or we just lose hope? "Hope", the biggest strength as well as the biggest weakness of ours. What is it that differentiates them from goals? What is the fascination about dreams that makes them so more wonderful than mere goals? Is it their sublimity or is it the fact that they propel us into a world of imagination and illusions. Illusions that we want to turn into reality. Do the goals lose the charm of dreams because they seem more attainable and appear closer to reality. Much like the world of celluloid, which is so far from reality and yet on those few occasions it metamorphoses itself into a world so much believable.
So what are the answers? I wish I had them. I so wish I don't have them. Reason ? Well, partly because I feel the day we fulfill all the dreams the road will come to an end. The day we cease to dream we cease to exist. The journey of self discovery starts from the direction that our dreams show. If we have no directions we practically have no road. Indeed dreams are the catalyst. Catalyst for life. Without them the reaction of life may still continue but without the spark, speed or excitement. Its up to us to choose. We chose a life full of dreams : dreams fulfilled, some unfulfilled and yet others broken OR a listless lifeless routine till we reach the end like others. The end where there will be those who would have come in hoards without dreams. Some who would have tired out before reaching there. And yet others who would have come by the roads less travelled. Where it wasn't just any other road. But a boulevard lined with the trees of our dreams. They would have tasted the fruits of joy. Been stung by the thorns of allurements. The bitter taste of unhappiness would have yielded to sweetness of success or the other way.
And thus those who would have dreamt without the fear of fulfilling them or losing them would know the power of dreams. Power to shape lives. Power to enjoy life. Power to be what they would ever have wanted to be.
Dreams pass into the reality of action। From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living - Anais Nin
Incidence 1: Yours truely goes into one of his introspective mode. Usual questions. Questions without answers. What am I? Is this what I want to be? What's the dream that I really want to pursue? Etc etc etc
Coincidence 1: My best friend from college sends me the URL of our classmate's blog.
Coincidence 2: I meet up another very good friend from L and he ends up discussing with me the same thing.
Coincidence 3: Someone close to my heart repeats an almost same thing though in a different context (more towards the futility of expecting something out of mundane office life).
And I thought its more than just co-incidence and perhaps I would do well to capture the thoughts that come across my mind on this regard.
What makes up the dreams? Why is it that we keep chasing them? They are broken they are shattered? Then we build more or we just lose hope? "Hope", the biggest strength as well as the biggest weakness of ours. What is it that differentiates them from goals? What is the fascination about dreams that makes them so more wonderful than mere goals? Is it their sublimity or is it the fact that they propel us into a world of imagination and illusions. Illusions that we want to turn into reality. Do the goals lose the charm of dreams because they seem more attainable and appear closer to reality. Much like the world of celluloid, which is so far from reality and yet on those few occasions it metamorphoses itself into a world so much believable.
So what are the answers? I wish I had them. I so wish I don't have them. Reason ? Well, partly because I feel the day we fulfill all the dreams the road will come to an end. The day we cease to dream we cease to exist. The journey of self discovery starts from the direction that our dreams show. If we have no directions we practically have no road. Indeed dreams are the catalyst. Catalyst for life. Without them the reaction of life may still continue but without the spark, speed or excitement. Its up to us to choose. We chose a life full of dreams : dreams fulfilled, some unfulfilled and yet others broken OR a listless lifeless routine till we reach the end like others. The end where there will be those who would have come in hoards without dreams. Some who would have tired out before reaching there. And yet others who would have come by the roads less travelled. Where it wasn't just any other road. But a boulevard lined with the trees of our dreams. They would have tasted the fruits of joy. Been stung by the thorns of allurements. The bitter taste of unhappiness would have yielded to sweetness of success or the other way.
And thus those who would have dreamt without the fear of fulfilling them or losing them would know the power of dreams. Power to shape lives. Power to enjoy life. Power to be what they would ever have wanted to be.
Dreams pass into the reality of action। From the actions stems the dream again; and this interdependence produces the highest form of living - Anais Nin
Thursday, December 7, 2006
Mumbai Local
This is the first one in the series of posts that will have the origin in Mumbai Locals. One way of getting something out of the 1.5 hrs of travel one way that's required for me to reach office. Over the past 7 months that I've been travelling here its not surprising that quite a lot of ideas germinated in the train journeys. Some of them that I've lost and some that I remember. Some that are worth capturing and some that are not. Thus I'll try to capture the essence of those that have crossed my mind and left a mark behind.
It is strange sometimes how your thoughts replicate themselves in life oblivious of your conscious mind and the vice versa. And then it hits you or strikes you suddenly when it is relegated to your subconscious. One such question that used to cross my mind was about the famed Mumbai Spirit. Before coming to here itself people (who hailed from Mumbai) had more or less tired me out into believing something special about this city. And yet as my inquisitive self would have it I used to wonder that is it really so. If yes, where and if not then why doesn't someone question it. Nonetheless the question seated itself on the back bench of my mind.
When I landed here it was the month of May with the advent of the renowned monsoon rains of Mumbai and its travails round the corner. And yet the daily grind that I got into didn't make me worry about it till it hit here. The daily ritual without rains itself was enough to cope with it and I was still learning. Every morning at 9:15 it would be a wrestling match with the Vashi station being the arena. After sometime I stopped struggling much and tried learning the art of reading and listening to music while standing itself. I had the choice of having clean clothes to office or a seat for 1.5 hrs and I chose the former perhaps.
Nonetheless the spirit issue raised itself twice in my conscious mind soon. First was the advent of monsoon. And behold the spectacle the race against something became a race against nature perhaps. There were three incidences particularly which made me think.
One : I got down at VT with the much needed aid called umbrella. I was waiting for a cab (they somehow just change their mind to take you or not with the changing direction of flowing water perhaps). Suddenly one shove and I realise there is not one but two people under the same umbrella now and asking me to move to hire a cab. With one shoulder exposed to the rain, even before I could question if I had the right to actually "share" my umbrella or not I was moving in ankle deep water. And while thikning of my poor shoes I got into a cab and was left wondering as ever.
Two : The same place the same rain and the same plight. I was wondering what to do with rain too hard to prevent me from getting wet even under the umbrella. Just then a cab came and a guy got into it. Even before he could question I was into the cab as well thinking it was a shared one. And my friend joined in. That person didn't say anything. Till we reached our destination and when we tried to give him money he just didn't take it. And then we realised he had hired the cab and it wasn't a sharing one!
Three : I was getting down the foot overbridge at Kurla station. There was an old lady walking ahead of me. So I slowed down and was resisting the force coming from behind so as to not push the lady. But then one gentleman wearing Allen Solly gave me a mouthful and said why the hell don't you move. He pushed me and hopped a step pushed the lady who almost fell and moved on. I took a step back and tried to soak in what had actually happened.
Three incidences, three experiences. All during monsoons when Mumbaikars wouldn't stop talking about 26th July 2005 when they all came out in hoards to help eachother. And each time it left me amused more than admiration. I asked a couple of people what would happen if same thing is repeated in some other city ?
This was followed a little later by the cruel act of Bomb blasts and the famed Spirit came alive in its glory. But this time it was different as well. Because the questions that came to my mind suddenly found other voices as well. They were just dormant perhaps. Including some renowned faces to those voices (whom I don't identify with for other reasons). The voices feeble but definite were echoing in Media also.
Given this backdrop I set about thinking. This city is full of life yes. But what life? Its a city with dreams but no options. If your dream is fulfilled well and good you start moving. If its not, even then you don't have and option. You still need to live. When its survival at stake it can bring out the best and the worst in you. This city brings out both. And yet it choses to look at only the best when it comes and then frames it like a painting on the wall to call it The Spirit. The holy mighty spirit.
And then the next question arises. If I can see it why can't the people see it? Or has it become a divine piece of art like the Last Supper or Monalisa who has to be appraised no matter how you may not understand it? Or you just have to admire it for the sheer imagination and hard work behind the creator of it? The things that he saw and the others didn't. The things that Mumbai saw and the lesser
But then why do I seek answers? After all Mumbaikars are also normal human beings and have a right to feel good about themselves. Ah but herein lies the crux perhaps. "Normal human beings" did I say? That's something they are for sure not! Tell them that and they'll pounce on you.
No matter how you argue to tell that travelling in local might require inhuman effort but doesn't make you a superhuman because you don't have any option. No matter how you tell them that the next day of blast you can't take leave because an absence without leave may cost you 7 days of bread and butter. No matter if you tell them that a spirit would perhaps halt and see the damage a bomb blast wrecked rather than ignoring the injury to move on. No matter how you tell them that its the location of corporate offices that makes them the highest tax paying city and not the fact that it has 1.5 crore people living in here. No matter how you tell them that there is life beyond this humdrum of activity where a man takes a breath, asks the neighbour if he's alright. No matter how you tell them that there is a need to tell them. No matter how my friend no matter how .. They will not listen. For this is a city of bad listeners. Half of the populace is deaf. Another quarter that is unwilling to listen. Another quarter that doesn't understand. And the voice of the rest (yes half + 2 quarters is not full just like a packed local doesn't mean its full) is not heard for its the noise that's overwhelming. Noise of humans teaming like bees. Howling of the "wolves" in cars. Of "rats" in slums. This is a jungle without trees. Without silence. Without water. Without options. So live before you are crushed. Jump before you are pushed down. Crush the next guy before he walks on you. And when you've succeeded put a frame in your house around what is called "Mumbai Spirit" before it sneaks away out of your house and you lie naked in your bed alone.
Saturday, December 2, 2006
Mukteshwar
One of my passions in life is Travel. Given a choice I'd love to hit the road at a moment's notice. Luckily most of my trips to places that I've been to have been memorable ones. Both because of the place as well as for the company. And thus my memoirs of such journeys. If I think of one to start this stream, my first trip to Mukteshwar comes instantly to mind. For various reasons varying from total lack of planning to the actual destination not being the one that we intended for. Also perhaps because of the fact that it was my first outing from IIM-Lucknow.
It was the month of August (mid) and we had just started settling down at hel(L). For me it was a heaven in hell off course. We had just made a few good friends while getting used to the hectic lifestyle at the institute. And as so happens, with some people you become good friends faster than others. So we three had become pretty good friends in no time, more so because of the course BIO (Behaviour In Organization).
Planning (or the Lack of it): I remember it was Thursday at lunch table my friend came up with the idea if we should go to Nainital and if I'd like to come. And I said yes, lets do it. But there was a nagging doubt - courtsey MANAC (Management Accounting - I hate that subject till date). As luck would have it there was a quiz announced on the coming Saturday. And one of us got worried over losing the 5 marks it was worth. But I was still game and more so for the lovely weather that had come up to play. Till next day afternoon it was should I go or should I not for her. By evening we were able to convince her that lets just go. Anyways at 6:30 it was finalized and at 7 we were on our way to the station!! Thus started the journey of me and the two ladies who became the very best of my friends in times to come.
The Start : There was a train at 8:15 to Kathgodam and we rushed to buy the tickets. Only to realise reaching the train that there was absolutely no scope of sleeper berths!! The ladies were obviously uncomfortable by the prospect of of travelling in that packed general compartment. While we were still pondering what to do, the train started and we stood there with our tickets .. gone waste !! What next? The next train was at 12 and we thought of it to be imprudent to waste 4 hrs with the doubt of not getting a berth there as well? So we decided to board a bus for Nainital. We went to the Charbagh bust stand only to realise that we had come to the wrong one as the bus for Nainital leaves from the other one at Lal Bagh (till then we thought there was only one bus stand in Lucknow). And thus began our journey on a rickshaw through most shady of lanes lined with small theatres playing C-Grade flicks, deserted to the extent of making you feel lonely and bumpy enough to remind me the torture my bum suffered in travelling from BHU gate to Assi ghat in Varanasi. Nonetheless we reached the bus stand in one piece. To our more amazement the last bus to Nainital had already left and we were literally clueless till one of the conductors told us to get into the bus going to Delhi. He said we could get down at Bareilly and then go to Kathgodam where we could get a cab for Nainital. And we jumped in without thinking too much.
Lucknow to Nainital : And what a bus ride it was indeed. Truely a rickety-rockety ride with the head banging here and there. Icing on the cake was the cassette that the bus driver chose to play. It would figure amongst the best (worst) of the Bollywood style audio masala with full emotional effects. All three of us couldn't help out bursting into laughter every now and then. Finally after 6 hours of pain and joy thanks to the bus and the roads in UP we reached Bareilly. And suddenly as I stepped into the bus stand I felt like an alien with all the eyes following us. Then it struck me that a guy with two girls was not particularly a usual sight for the people at that earthly hour. Nonetheless we had no choice but to wait there as we realised that the bus for Kathgodam (Haldwani) was at 5:30 !! So one and a half hour at Bareilly bus stand half asleep on a bench we sat sipping a few cups of tea and discussing what's next and what a wonderful ride we had. Specially one of the two ladies who had never travelled in a Deluxe bus till date, forget the ordinary one!
At 5:30 we took the bus and the ride proved out to be even bumpier then the previous one. We arrived at Haldwani and got off at the wrong place. So to reach the "correct" place we took a six seater for another breezy but bumpy ride. Reaching Kathgodam we realised that it would be better to book our return tickets in advance to avoid the Lucknow episode being repeated. And thus another torturous ride for my bum on a rickshaw. Only to realise at the station that the reservation counter had not opened yet. Outside the station there was a mad rush to grab the passengers in shared cabs for Nainital. We boarded one when we came to know that there was a reservation counter in Nainital also. The ride to Naintal was beautiful if it was an indication of anything lying ahead. The clouds trying to kiss the hills. The sun trying to come into its own. The streams giving the background music. The air much pure and cleaner then the plains we came from. And three tired but happy souls who just lost there sleep while wondering in amazement about what lied ahead. Finally we reached Nainital at around 10:15 and first things first we booked the return tickets for Lucknow.
Nainital : First agenda on our mind was to have something to eat and then book a hotel. So we started strolling along the Mall Road searching for an "affordable" acco. We walked across it once to realise the affordable was not so affordable. Then we first decided to eat. And had our sumptuous lunch. By the lake, watching the clouds trying to engulf the lake. Finishing of the lunch we restarted our hunt for the hotel. This time round we hired a cab to look around for hotels even beyond Mall road. We reached one which seemed affordable but the moment we asked if they served liquor he back tracked as if we were demons. In the meanwhile came the suggestion of going to Mukteshwar and come back and look for an acco. As it turned out the driver of the cab (Sonu) gave the suggestion of infact staying in Mukteshwar and visiting the places around there only. One minute we were thinking about it and the next we were headed to Mukteshwar.
Mukteshwar : Having said tata, bye-bye to Nainital we headed for Mukteshwar. The long route to Mukteshwar was as good as any. With each kilometer that we moved towards it, the changing landscape beckoned a breathtaking experience ahead. With minimal traffic and like a virgin territory not yet raped by mankind it was stretching its arms for those who just wanted to get immersed in it. We stopped at a few places to touch a few streams and feel their purity. And it was bliss.
Finally we reached Mukteshwar. I believe the word comes from the sandhi of Mukt + Eeshwar.
Now we could interpret it .. the free god or the freedom to meet god or whatever .. All in all for the want of better superlative qualification I would say its god's place. Where the moment you set the foot you realise you are in a different world. Surrounded by peace, enchanted by the scenery and hypnotized by the beauty. You either feel like god or you feel closer to him/her. Having reached there we found accomodation in most easiest of ways with no questions asked (except for our address) at Red Roofs. What a wonderful place it is. Mr Dixit the owner is an ex-marine engineer settled down there. I envy his life for a change. And the whole place seems so much like home with the due comforts and the warmth of family as well. So finally we nestled in that place which as I said exuded so much warmth that I still remember it (and I'm sure all of us do).
When we reached Mukteshwar we actually realised how tired we were. But the abundance of freshness there just made us forget our fatigue and we were soon headed for the sunset point and other known areas around. First We reached a guest house near GMVN hotel. Jumping, skipping, hopping and running literally. And so it had to be. Its just so alluring that you wish to feel free in all manners with noone even giving a glance of doubt. When we reached what a site it was. You could see the Garhwal range from that point. To add to it we got garm-a-garam pakode and some tea. Rarely have I tasted such good food (apart from my mom's cooking off course). After seeing the snow capped ranges we headed to the sunset point through a small trek. And we sat there on a rock. Watching the sun set in its full glory. One of the most picturesque sites that will remain etched in my memories. The colour changing from a golden to an orange before bleeding to red and then fading away in crimson like a last cry from heart. And finally we came back to the lodge. Much of the distance in silence. Perhaps we just wanted to capture the moment as a treasure. And were reluctant to let go of the image.
We came back and had a few more snacks before settling into cozy comfort of the blankets. And then the conversation started. We chatted. And we chatted. About the craziest thing that we had done in life and the life at hel(L) the way it was shaping up. Before we realised it was dinner time and my two partners ditched me for the drinking session. The bottle went the way it came, back to the campus. After dinner we decided to crash early to get up early. And by 11 we fell asleep.
Day Two: I got up early in the morning with beautiful sun-rays falling on my face. At 6:30 in the morning it was one of the most beautiful morning visuals. From the balcony one could see the sun making itself visible. Slowly but surely. The rays filtering through the leaves were playing hide and seek with the eyes. And the slow wind, so quitely was cajoling the trees to reveal more of sun's beauty while the clouds were reluctant to give way. The owner had asked for an early morning trek but I couldn't make it because the ladies were still in bed. Nonetheless taking our own sweet time we got ready by 10 and then went for a trek. One of the ladies (lemme name them as A and K) fell once on the way and Miss A also almost repeated the act. But it was fun with knowledge on what is to be done when a bear comes (btw you are supposed to run downhill when attacked by a bear so that his falling hair block his view. Those who think feigning to be dead may not help coz it entirely depends on how long you hold your breath). So Miss A and K along with me enjoyed that small but wonderful trek and came back for our next outing.
We had hired Sonu for the day and he had stayed overnight for the next day. So we started off saying good bye to our wonderful host. We first went to an animal farm/research centre. It was one of the most touching scenes to see one or two day old sheeps ! The people there were too eager to show us around and I realised how in the smallest of places you find the largest of hearts.
For our next endeavour the choices were two, a temple and a waterfall. All three of us unanimously chose the waterfall. And we were headed to have one of the most memorable experience of ours. We reached the place but didn't know the way to the fall. We decided to find our way but just a little way down we realised were heading down towards river rather than the fall. So dejected we started our way back. And then we met Ganesh. He had come around from nowhere and Sonu interjected him to assisst us. And thus with our able guide (just a teenager kid) we headed towards the fall. The path it was so exciting that we were just too eager to reach it. After much of jumping and hopping apart from careful stepping we reached. But just before reaching Miss K had another fall and just as ever she bravely got up without a twitch on the face. But we all know she was really hurt and yet she never showed. Hats off dear. Finally we were there. We the only signs of humanity there with all the love of nature around us. The ladies jumped into the water like mermaids while I was a little heistant. But after that bit I jumped in too. And then the fun started. The energy of water got into us and the next hour or so was just too much fun. It can only be felt and I can't describe it. Finally when we were tired enough we decided to head back to the car.
Drenched to the skin, shivering but too happy as well. Then we headed for lunch. We stopped at a small time restaurant where it was too dark to eat. So we headed for its roof where we had our meals under the sun. For that small place perhaps the spectre of a guy with two girls was something strange and almost the whole place was watching us having food. And a too enthu guy acutally started playing a bit of pathetic bollywood number as well. Nonetheless we just enjoyed the breathtaking view visible from the roof and the good food. After the sumptuous meal we started back for Kathgodam. En-route there was still more spectacle that mother nature beheld for us. We stopped at one such point. Had snacks and Miss A got more interested in a puppy. She was even eager to take it along with her and but for our resistence she might have even carried it along. But brief snacks were all that we could have and were on our way again. But mid-way the mouth watering sights of corns stopped us briefly and trust me they were amongst the best I've had (other than the ones available in Varanasi).
Finally after the journey of one and a half hours we reached Kathgodam and enjoyed sweets at
a sweet shop. And then we were ready to say bye to Sonu. Apart from paying we obviously tried to come up with words to thank him enough but I guess we would have anyways fallen short. So with heavy hearts but wonderful memories we boarded the train well in time. The train started leaving behind the hills and the rivers. But the glimpses were there. Under the brightly lit sky (thanks to the moon), the faint outlines of the hills and the sparkles of the streams were bidding us good bye. And to add to it the ladies decided for an aural treat as well. They sung the song that would have best summed up the song perhaps. "Aaj jaane ke zid na karo .." by Fareeda Khanum. How well they sung it !! I'd always remember that ladies. With those memories fresh we soon fell asleep ..
Back to Lucknow : We reached lucknow in time to attend the classes and for many days to come were the topic of many a talks and many a gossips. But hell if we cared. We knew we had come from one of the best of our trips of our life and would do anything to repeat it.
In the end I'd like to say only one thing. It was one of the best things to happen me. I've been to mukteshwar twice after that but that touch of innocence and spontaneity was not always there. The other trips being special as well, the first one still comes closest to my heart, just like first love perhaps.
It was the month of August (mid) and we had just started settling down at hel(L). For me it was a heaven in hell off course. We had just made a few good friends while getting used to the hectic lifestyle at the institute. And as so happens, with some people you become good friends faster than others. So we three had become pretty good friends in no time, more so because of the course BIO (Behaviour In Organization).
Planning (or the Lack of it): I remember it was Thursday at lunch table my friend came up with the idea if we should go to Nainital and if I'd like to come. And I said yes, lets do it. But there was a nagging doubt - courtsey MANAC (Management Accounting - I hate that subject till date). As luck would have it there was a quiz announced on the coming Saturday. And one of us got worried over losing the 5 marks it was worth. But I was still game and more so for the lovely weather that had come up to play. Till next day afternoon it was should I go or should I not for her. By evening we were able to convince her that lets just go. Anyways at 6:30 it was finalized and at 7 we were on our way to the station!! Thus started the journey of me and the two ladies who became the very best of my friends in times to come.
The Start : There was a train at 8:15 to Kathgodam and we rushed to buy the tickets. Only to realise reaching the train that there was absolutely no scope of sleeper berths!! The ladies were obviously uncomfortable by the prospect of of travelling in that packed general compartment. While we were still pondering what to do, the train started and we stood there with our tickets .. gone waste !! What next? The next train was at 12 and we thought of it to be imprudent to waste 4 hrs with the doubt of not getting a berth there as well? So we decided to board a bus for Nainital. We went to the Charbagh bust stand only to realise that we had come to the wrong one as the bus for Nainital leaves from the other one at Lal Bagh (till then we thought there was only one bus stand in Lucknow). And thus began our journey on a rickshaw through most shady of lanes lined with small theatres playing C-Grade flicks, deserted to the extent of making you feel lonely and bumpy enough to remind me the torture my bum suffered in travelling from BHU gate to Assi ghat in Varanasi. Nonetheless we reached the bus stand in one piece. To our more amazement the last bus to Nainital had already left and we were literally clueless till one of the conductors told us to get into the bus going to Delhi. He said we could get down at Bareilly and then go to Kathgodam where we could get a cab for Nainital. And we jumped in without thinking too much.
Lucknow to Nainital : And what a bus ride it was indeed. Truely a rickety-rockety ride with the head banging here and there. Icing on the cake was the cassette that the bus driver chose to play. It would figure amongst the best (worst) of the Bollywood style audio masala with full emotional effects. All three of us couldn't help out bursting into laughter every now and then. Finally after 6 hours of pain and joy thanks to the bus and the roads in UP we reached Bareilly. And suddenly as I stepped into the bus stand I felt like an alien with all the eyes following us. Then it struck me that a guy with two girls was not particularly a usual sight for the people at that earthly hour. Nonetheless we had no choice but to wait there as we realised that the bus for Kathgodam (Haldwani) was at 5:30 !! So one and a half hour at Bareilly bus stand half asleep on a bench we sat sipping a few cups of tea and discussing what's next and what a wonderful ride we had. Specially one of the two ladies who had never travelled in a Deluxe bus till date, forget the ordinary one!
At 5:30 we took the bus and the ride proved out to be even bumpier then the previous one. We arrived at Haldwani and got off at the wrong place. So to reach the "correct" place we took a six seater for another breezy but bumpy ride. Reaching Kathgodam we realised that it would be better to book our return tickets in advance to avoid the Lucknow episode being repeated. And thus another torturous ride for my bum on a rickshaw. Only to realise at the station that the reservation counter had not opened yet. Outside the station there was a mad rush to grab the passengers in shared cabs for Nainital. We boarded one when we came to know that there was a reservation counter in Nainital also. The ride to Naintal was beautiful if it was an indication of anything lying ahead. The clouds trying to kiss the hills. The sun trying to come into its own. The streams giving the background music. The air much pure and cleaner then the plains we came from. And three tired but happy souls who just lost there sleep while wondering in amazement about what lied ahead. Finally we reached Nainital at around 10:15 and first things first we booked the return tickets for Lucknow.
Nainital : First agenda on our mind was to have something to eat and then book a hotel. So we started strolling along the Mall Road searching for an "affordable" acco. We walked across it once to realise the affordable was not so affordable. Then we first decided to eat. And had our sumptuous lunch. By the lake, watching the clouds trying to engulf the lake. Finishing of the lunch we restarted our hunt for the hotel. This time round we hired a cab to look around for hotels even beyond Mall road. We reached one which seemed affordable but the moment we asked if they served liquor he back tracked as if we were demons. In the meanwhile came the suggestion of going to Mukteshwar and come back and look for an acco. As it turned out the driver of the cab (Sonu) gave the suggestion of infact staying in Mukteshwar and visiting the places around there only. One minute we were thinking about it and the next we were headed to Mukteshwar.
Mukteshwar : Having said tata, bye-bye to Nainital we headed for Mukteshwar. The long route to Mukteshwar was as good as any. With each kilometer that we moved towards it, the changing landscape beckoned a breathtaking experience ahead. With minimal traffic and like a virgin territory not yet raped by mankind it was stretching its arms for those who just wanted to get immersed in it. We stopped at a few places to touch a few streams and feel their purity. And it was bliss.
Finally we reached Mukteshwar. I believe the word comes from the sandhi of Mukt + Eeshwar.
Now we could interpret it .. the free god or the freedom to meet god or whatever .. All in all for the want of better superlative qualification I would say its god's place. Where the moment you set the foot you realise you are in a different world. Surrounded by peace, enchanted by the scenery and hypnotized by the beauty. You either feel like god or you feel closer to him/her. Having reached there we found accomodation in most easiest of ways with no questions asked (except for our address) at Red Roofs. What a wonderful place it is. Mr Dixit the owner is an ex-marine engineer settled down there. I envy his life for a change. And the whole place seems so much like home with the due comforts and the warmth of family as well. So finally we nestled in that place which as I said exuded so much warmth that I still remember it (and I'm sure all of us do).
When we reached Mukteshwar we actually realised how tired we were. But the abundance of freshness there just made us forget our fatigue and we were soon headed for the sunset point and other known areas around. First We reached a guest house near GMVN hotel. Jumping, skipping, hopping and running literally. And so it had to be. Its just so alluring that you wish to feel free in all manners with noone even giving a glance of doubt. When we reached what a site it was. You could see the Garhwal range from that point. To add to it we got garm-a-garam pakode and some tea. Rarely have I tasted such good food (apart from my mom's cooking off course). After seeing the snow capped ranges we headed to the sunset point through a small trek. And we sat there on a rock. Watching the sun set in its full glory. One of the most picturesque sites that will remain etched in my memories. The colour changing from a golden to an orange before bleeding to red and then fading away in crimson like a last cry from heart. And finally we came back to the lodge. Much of the distance in silence. Perhaps we just wanted to capture the moment as a treasure. And were reluctant to let go of the image.
We came back and had a few more snacks before settling into cozy comfort of the blankets. And then the conversation started. We chatted. And we chatted. About the craziest thing that we had done in life and the life at hel(L) the way it was shaping up. Before we realised it was dinner time and my two partners ditched me for the drinking session. The bottle went the way it came, back to the campus. After dinner we decided to crash early to get up early. And by 11 we fell asleep.
Day Two: I got up early in the morning with beautiful sun-rays falling on my face. At 6:30 in the morning it was one of the most beautiful morning visuals. From the balcony one could see the sun making itself visible. Slowly but surely. The rays filtering through the leaves were playing hide and seek with the eyes. And the slow wind, so quitely was cajoling the trees to reveal more of sun's beauty while the clouds were reluctant to give way. The owner had asked for an early morning trek but I couldn't make it because the ladies were still in bed. Nonetheless taking our own sweet time we got ready by 10 and then went for a trek. One of the ladies (lemme name them as A and K) fell once on the way and Miss A also almost repeated the act. But it was fun with knowledge on what is to be done when a bear comes (btw you are supposed to run downhill when attacked by a bear so that his falling hair block his view. Those who think feigning to be dead may not help coz it entirely depends on how long you hold your breath). So Miss A and K along with me enjoyed that small but wonderful trek and came back for our next outing.
We had hired Sonu for the day and he had stayed overnight for the next day. So we started off saying good bye to our wonderful host. We first went to an animal farm/research centre. It was one of the most touching scenes to see one or two day old sheeps ! The people there were too eager to show us around and I realised how in the smallest of places you find the largest of hearts.
For our next endeavour the choices were two, a temple and a waterfall. All three of us unanimously chose the waterfall. And we were headed to have one of the most memorable experience of ours. We reached the place but didn't know the way to the fall. We decided to find our way but just a little way down we realised were heading down towards river rather than the fall. So dejected we started our way back. And then we met Ganesh. He had come around from nowhere and Sonu interjected him to assisst us. And thus with our able guide (just a teenager kid) we headed towards the fall. The path it was so exciting that we were just too eager to reach it. After much of jumping and hopping apart from careful stepping we reached. But just before reaching Miss K had another fall and just as ever she bravely got up without a twitch on the face. But we all know she was really hurt and yet she never showed. Hats off dear. Finally we were there. We the only signs of humanity there with all the love of nature around us. The ladies jumped into the water like mermaids while I was a little heistant. But after that bit I jumped in too. And then the fun started. The energy of water got into us and the next hour or so was just too much fun. It can only be felt and I can't describe it. Finally when we were tired enough we decided to head back to the car.
Drenched to the skin, shivering but too happy as well. Then we headed for lunch. We stopped at a small time restaurant where it was too dark to eat. So we headed for its roof where we had our meals under the sun. For that small place perhaps the spectre of a guy with two girls was something strange and almost the whole place was watching us having food. And a too enthu guy acutally started playing a bit of pathetic bollywood number as well. Nonetheless we just enjoyed the breathtaking view visible from the roof and the good food. After the sumptuous meal we started back for Kathgodam. En-route there was still more spectacle that mother nature beheld for us. We stopped at one such point. Had snacks and Miss A got more interested in a puppy. She was even eager to take it along with her and but for our resistence she might have even carried it along. But brief snacks were all that we could have and were on our way again. But mid-way the mouth watering sights of corns stopped us briefly and trust me they were amongst the best I've had (other than the ones available in Varanasi).
Finally after the journey of one and a half hours we reached Kathgodam and enjoyed sweets at
a sweet shop. And then we were ready to say bye to Sonu. Apart from paying we obviously tried to come up with words to thank him enough but I guess we would have anyways fallen short. So with heavy hearts but wonderful memories we boarded the train well in time. The train started leaving behind the hills and the rivers. But the glimpses were there. Under the brightly lit sky (thanks to the moon), the faint outlines of the hills and the sparkles of the streams were bidding us good bye. And to add to it the ladies decided for an aural treat as well. They sung the song that would have best summed up the song perhaps. "Aaj jaane ke zid na karo .." by Fareeda Khanum. How well they sung it !! I'd always remember that ladies. With those memories fresh we soon fell asleep ..
Back to Lucknow : We reached lucknow in time to attend the classes and for many days to come were the topic of many a talks and many a gossips. But hell if we cared. We knew we had come from one of the best of our trips of our life and would do anything to repeat it.
In the end I'd like to say only one thing. It was one of the best things to happen me. I've been to mukteshwar twice after that but that touch of innocence and spontaneity was not always there. The other trips being special as well, the first one still comes closest to my heart, just like first love perhaps.
Friday, December 1, 2006
Nishaant
Yesterday I saw Nishaant. Again, after a long time. It is one of the better movies I have seen. And hence this post on it.
To give a backdrop it is set up in a village of Andhra of the 1940s with a feudal set up. Its a story of four brothers with the eldest being the patriarch of the family as well as the village. He and the younger two indulge in unlawful activities while the youngest one who is married doesn't have any of those bad habits. The village is oppressed under the tyranny of the three with no courage to raise any voice against it. Then comes a teacher (played by Girish Karnad) to the village along with his wife (Shabana Azmi). The youngest one for the first time sets eyes on a woman other than his own wife. His elder brothers get her kidnapped. The whole village watches but noone comes to the help of the teacher. His wife is repeatedly raped and kept in captivity. After failing to get help from all the institutional set ups responsible for law and order he evokes the conscience of the village priest. He galvanizes the village into a revolt and the brothers are killed in the end.
I would like to share thoughts on two main streams of thoughts that the movie evoked. One the questions it raises and the way it raises. Two the technical part of it.
Questions and Issues: Some of the issues that it poignantly raises have remained with us despite all are claims of "democracy" and "independence". A huge part of our population has remain untouched by these magical terms. But apart from the regular issues related to a feudal set up and the inertia of the populace I would wish to highlight a few which troubled me more.
The portrayal of women in the movie and the cost of leadership one may have to bear in wake of a mob "awakening" or mob "psyche".
There are two primary women characters in the movie, one wife of the teacher as mentioned and wife of the youngest brother (played by Smita Patil). One becomes the cause / (trigger) of the revolt while the other a mute spectator to it. Its interesting to note the transformation of Susheela (Shabana Azmi) from a doting mother and loyal wife to someone who detests her husband and falls in love with her co-captivator. She resists being raped initially, gives in to her fate and then demands her right in a powerful household. And then she dies alongside her lover with the line "jab maut aani he hai toh kaaran kya poochhna" (why ask the reason when death is destined to come). And yet one thing she doesn't lose is her concern for the other woman (Rukmini, the wife of her lover) even while she runs for her life.
Smita Patil (Rukmini) on the other hand detests her owh family except for her husband who she loves coz of the fact that he refuses to indulge in the excesses. However the same woman with whom she empathises with becomes the bane as her husband starts falling for her and gives her rights partially to her. She also dies at the hands of the mob but not beside her husband. She dies alone as she witnesses the death of perpetrators of injustice.
Why I raise this as an issue is that both women die. In their own respective agony. Both deserted by their husbands. And yet they die so differently. They have no other role. As I mentioned earlier as being a cause/trigger and not a reason of the revolt. Neither as leaders in it neither with reason in it. On all accounts they are shown to be the end victims in either case. Is this what we have reduced women to in our society? Is this the only way we have come to treat them?
Second issue would be of the price that leaders pay. The very person who raises the collective conscience loses everything in the mad fury of mob. He loses his wife for whom he does it all. The very cause for him deserts him in the consequence. And thus I ask, is this the price of leadership? Why do we have to have tragedy associated in such leadership. Why is it that the awakening of a society have to be soaked in the blood of a soul coming from their own ranks? What is it that exacts such a huge cost on someone to shake us? People say for every revolution we have a price to pay. But I ask why is it that who take the fruit of it don't have to pay the cost but those who lose all have to be bereft of the benefits.
Technical: Techincally there are also few questions. The pace of the movie is at times too slow. In an attempt to capture the true essence of a village the director spends too much of time on thing that could easily have been sacrificed at the editor's table. Further the deliberate attempt to be more black and white the backdrops are so inert that sometimes you wonder if anything is moving. No wonder the label of Art movies on such pieces delineates a huge part of the audience or rather loses them altogether. Is it essential to be downright "classy" to get the message across?
The language also used is not what is actually used in that terrain perhaps. Unless its in the heart of Hyderabad.
With these questions I ponder more over it .. and hope to "edit" this post of mine as well :)
To give a backdrop it is set up in a village of Andhra of the 1940s with a feudal set up. Its a story of four brothers with the eldest being the patriarch of the family as well as the village. He and the younger two indulge in unlawful activities while the youngest one who is married doesn't have any of those bad habits. The village is oppressed under the tyranny of the three with no courage to raise any voice against it. Then comes a teacher (played by Girish Karnad) to the village along with his wife (Shabana Azmi). The youngest one for the first time sets eyes on a woman other than his own wife. His elder brothers get her kidnapped. The whole village watches but noone comes to the help of the teacher. His wife is repeatedly raped and kept in captivity. After failing to get help from all the institutional set ups responsible for law and order he evokes the conscience of the village priest. He galvanizes the village into a revolt and the brothers are killed in the end.
I would like to share thoughts on two main streams of thoughts that the movie evoked. One the questions it raises and the way it raises. Two the technical part of it.
Questions and Issues: Some of the issues that it poignantly raises have remained with us despite all are claims of "democracy" and "independence". A huge part of our population has remain untouched by these magical terms. But apart from the regular issues related to a feudal set up and the inertia of the populace I would wish to highlight a few which troubled me more.
The portrayal of women in the movie and the cost of leadership one may have to bear in wake of a mob "awakening" or mob "psyche".
There are two primary women characters in the movie, one wife of the teacher as mentioned and wife of the youngest brother (played by Smita Patil). One becomes the cause / (trigger) of the revolt while the other a mute spectator to it. Its interesting to note the transformation of Susheela (Shabana Azmi) from a doting mother and loyal wife to someone who detests her husband and falls in love with her co-captivator. She resists being raped initially, gives in to her fate and then demands her right in a powerful household. And then she dies alongside her lover with the line "jab maut aani he hai toh kaaran kya poochhna" (why ask the reason when death is destined to come). And yet one thing she doesn't lose is her concern for the other woman (Rukmini, the wife of her lover) even while she runs for her life.
Smita Patil (Rukmini) on the other hand detests her owh family except for her husband who she loves coz of the fact that he refuses to indulge in the excesses. However the same woman with whom she empathises with becomes the bane as her husband starts falling for her and gives her rights partially to her. She also dies at the hands of the mob but not beside her husband. She dies alone as she witnesses the death of perpetrators of injustice.
Why I raise this as an issue is that both women die. In their own respective agony. Both deserted by their husbands. And yet they die so differently. They have no other role. As I mentioned earlier as being a cause/trigger and not a reason of the revolt. Neither as leaders in it neither with reason in it. On all accounts they are shown to be the end victims in either case. Is this what we have reduced women to in our society? Is this the only way we have come to treat them?
Second issue would be of the price that leaders pay. The very person who raises the collective conscience loses everything in the mad fury of mob. He loses his wife for whom he does it all. The very cause for him deserts him in the consequence. And thus I ask, is this the price of leadership? Why do we have to have tragedy associated in such leadership. Why is it that the awakening of a society have to be soaked in the blood of a soul coming from their own ranks? What is it that exacts such a huge cost on someone to shake us? People say for every revolution we have a price to pay. But I ask why is it that who take the fruit of it don't have to pay the cost but those who lose all have to be bereft of the benefits.
Technical: Techincally there are also few questions. The pace of the movie is at times too slow. In an attempt to capture the true essence of a village the director spends too much of time on thing that could easily have been sacrificed at the editor's table. Further the deliberate attempt to be more black and white the backdrops are so inert that sometimes you wonder if anything is moving. No wonder the label of Art movies on such pieces delineates a huge part of the audience or rather loses them altogether. Is it essential to be downright "classy" to get the message across?
The language also used is not what is actually used in that terrain perhaps. Unless its in the heart of Hyderabad.
With these questions I ponder more over it .. and hope to "edit" this post of mine as well :)
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
Expressions
Yesterday I created a post and then deleted it. Reason? Well I didn't like it. It just didn't make me feel as if there was conviction behind it. As my friend put, it felt like having been created for the sake of it. And thus I got the idea of this post on "Expressions".
What is an expression ? Is it a form that we give to a thought or an idea? Or is it just a way of communication? A mix of the two? Or something completely different? This we can perhaps leave to the interpreters interpretation.
More important perhaps is the need of expression for ourselves. Sometimes when we look at ourselves in mirror it is our expression that we see more than we the person as we are. And it is our expression that scares us or makes us happy or makes us sad about it. But that expression in mirror is undiluted and is beyond our controls. The written expression comes with that advantage and disadvantage both. Advantage that it gives us a chance to alter the expression in the way we would want. If we are connected to ourselves, our honesty will reflect in it and our expression can be that much closer to our true selves. And yet at the same time the control that we can exercise in it leaves it susceptible to the way we want to be looked at as.
But then just the way a river looks best in its natural flow, poetry in motion, the poetry of words would also be best in its unbridled form. Yet people are also scared of putting down their thoughts in words. Some think that they are not good at it, some think that they are not good at words and yet there are others who are scared to do so. They feel that the lack of that control which can induce the adultery leaves there true self exposed to the world. This fear I wonder is good for one or bad ? Or is it wrong altogether to measure this in terms of good or bad. After all at the end of the day it is a person's individual choice whether he wants to feel vulnerable or remain unseen from the eyes of the world.
What is that I express for? I make attempts to give a tangible form to my thoughts and ideas. For I fear the moment when they may get lost. It is an instrument for me to be closer to myself and my real self. Losing ones individuality could be one of the worst things that could happen to someone. And my writing reminds me of what I am? The good, the bad and the ugly as well. A blank paper is a better mirror for me than that made of silicon. The poetry of words more alluring then a poetry in motion. The black and white of words better than grey of the world. The fonts of alphabets more revealing than the clothes of a sensuous lady. The commas and full stops more reminding then a thousand roadblocks. The prologues and epilogues more interesting then beginnings and ends. And the journey of life is best covered in words then any dam that captures the rivers ...
And hence my expressions ... expressions to myself .. my messages to my own heart .. my own logic thrown back to my brain .. To ask .. to argue .. to fight .. to change .. to stay .. to move and to stop .. to admire and to hate .. to expect and to let go ..
Thus the journey of expressions of a foolish soul ...
What is an expression ? Is it a form that we give to a thought or an idea? Or is it just a way of communication? A mix of the two? Or something completely different? This we can perhaps leave to the interpreters interpretation.
More important perhaps is the need of expression for ourselves. Sometimes when we look at ourselves in mirror it is our expression that we see more than we the person as we are. And it is our expression that scares us or makes us happy or makes us sad about it. But that expression in mirror is undiluted and is beyond our controls. The written expression comes with that advantage and disadvantage both. Advantage that it gives us a chance to alter the expression in the way we would want. If we are connected to ourselves, our honesty will reflect in it and our expression can be that much closer to our true selves. And yet at the same time the control that we can exercise in it leaves it susceptible to the way we want to be looked at as.
But then just the way a river looks best in its natural flow, poetry in motion, the poetry of words would also be best in its unbridled form. Yet people are also scared of putting down their thoughts in words. Some think that they are not good at it, some think that they are not good at words and yet there are others who are scared to do so. They feel that the lack of that control which can induce the adultery leaves there true self exposed to the world. This fear I wonder is good for one or bad ? Or is it wrong altogether to measure this in terms of good or bad. After all at the end of the day it is a person's individual choice whether he wants to feel vulnerable or remain unseen from the eyes of the world.
What is that I express for? I make attempts to give a tangible form to my thoughts and ideas. For I fear the moment when they may get lost. It is an instrument for me to be closer to myself and my real self. Losing ones individuality could be one of the worst things that could happen to someone. And my writing reminds me of what I am? The good, the bad and the ugly as well. A blank paper is a better mirror for me than that made of silicon. The poetry of words more alluring then a poetry in motion. The black and white of words better than grey of the world. The fonts of alphabets more revealing than the clothes of a sensuous lady. The commas and full stops more reminding then a thousand roadblocks. The prologues and epilogues more interesting then beginnings and ends. And the journey of life is best covered in words then any dam that captures the rivers ...
And hence my expressions ... expressions to myself .. my messages to my own heart .. my own logic thrown back to my brain .. To ask .. to argue .. to fight .. to change .. to stay .. to move and to stop .. to admire and to hate .. to expect and to let go ..
Thus the journey of expressions of a foolish soul ...
Friday, November 24, 2006
Options and Decisions
Well today's post is related to a poem of mine wherein I've tried to ask myself a few questions. Perhaps these questions ring in many other minds/hearts also. The questions related to options we get in life and the options we come to exercise based on certain decisions of ours that we make.
I feel at any point of time in life we have options and based on the option we choose we get the next option. Much like GRE or similar exams where your answer decides your next question. But what decides our performance at the end of the exams ? Is it our capability to take the right decision or the capability to take the decision at all or is it our tendency to keep looking back on the previous decisions that we made.
If we think of ourselves some of us would leave our decisions to others. Some would choose an option and think what would have happened if we had chosen the other one. Then there would be some who would just chosing the option till they realise that they have just been making the wrong choices. And then there will be a breed which will realise that with each choice the next one has to be made more carefully based on the past experience. And there would be yet another set who will just keep clicking a random number. We can give various names to such categories, cowards, reckless, mature/experience, fools (not in the corresponding order).
But we all know that some of us emerge as winners while others end on the low scores. So what is it that winners do and the others don't. Perhaps first thing that they realise is that life is not just an exam. Its beautiful after all. Life does contain a mix of logic and emotions. And emotions come to us naturally. Logic is the name they give to the patterns they build in our brains by a systematic set up of "education". So do they strike the balance between the two ?
Lets now take an example. Relationship. Instead of elaborating on how different people would react to this, we need to just ask ourselves. And we would get the answer what kind of a person we are. All of us in life would have had to make a choice on this aspect. Based on what we chose we would be in different situations. And how we have dealt with those would let us know quite a lot about ourselves.
At the end of it if I look at it we can chose to be forward driven or sit on the fence trying to be our own judge rather than letting life decide while we perform our role that we chose for ourselves.
As one of my friend put "We always overestimate our roles in others' lives and understimate theirs' in our life."
On this note .. my work ..
उलझी हुई डोर को,
सुलझाने मॆं निकले जो पल,
उन पलों में ,
कुछ सिरे मैने छोड़ दिए
उस पार उन सिरों के,
थी एक अनजान जिन्दगी,
अनजान मगर थी तो कुछ जिन्दगी,
जहाँ ना शब्दों का शोर,
ना ईंट के घर,
ना आंखों मॆं ठंड,
कुछ एहसासों का स्पंदन,
कुछ शरीरों के गर्मी,
एक सड़क सपाट अनंत
मगर इधर उलझी डोरों,
मॆं उलझा मन ,
हर टूटती डोर,
मॆं गाँठ बाँधता यह मन ,
कौन जाने कब छूट जाये,
ना दिखने को पर्यंत
बस अपने जाल खुद बुनता,
कुछ पाने की तलाश मैं,
एक मूढ़ बुड़बक ,
पहचान ना हो जिसकी अभिन्न
I feel at any point of time in life we have options and based on the option we choose we get the next option. Much like GRE or similar exams where your answer decides your next question. But what decides our performance at the end of the exams ? Is it our capability to take the right decision or the capability to take the decision at all or is it our tendency to keep looking back on the previous decisions that we made.
If we think of ourselves some of us would leave our decisions to others. Some would choose an option and think what would have happened if we had chosen the other one. Then there would be some who would just chosing the option till they realise that they have just been making the wrong choices. And then there will be a breed which will realise that with each choice the next one has to be made more carefully based on the past experience. And there would be yet another set who will just keep clicking a random number. We can give various names to such categories, cowards, reckless, mature/experience, fools (not in the corresponding order).
But we all know that some of us emerge as winners while others end on the low scores. So what is it that winners do and the others don't. Perhaps first thing that they realise is that life is not just an exam. Its beautiful after all. Life does contain a mix of logic and emotions. And emotions come to us naturally. Logic is the name they give to the patterns they build in our brains by a systematic set up of "education". So do they strike the balance between the two ?
Lets now take an example. Relationship. Instead of elaborating on how different people would react to this, we need to just ask ourselves. And we would get the answer what kind of a person we are. All of us in life would have had to make a choice on this aspect. Based on what we chose we would be in different situations. And how we have dealt with those would let us know quite a lot about ourselves.
At the end of it if I look at it we can chose to be forward driven or sit on the fence trying to be our own judge rather than letting life decide while we perform our role that we chose for ourselves.
As one of my friend put "We always overestimate our roles in others' lives and understimate theirs' in our life."
On this note .. my work ..
उलझी हुई डोर को,
सुलझाने मॆं निकले जो पल,
उन पलों में ,
कुछ सिरे मैने छोड़ दिए
उस पार उन सिरों के,
थी एक अनजान जिन्दगी,
अनजान मगर थी तो कुछ जिन्दगी,
जहाँ ना शब्दों का शोर,
ना ईंट के घर,
ना आंखों मॆं ठंड,
कुछ एहसासों का स्पंदन,
कुछ शरीरों के गर्मी,
एक सड़क सपाट अनंत
मगर इधर उलझी डोरों,
मॆं उलझा मन ,
हर टूटती डोर,
मॆं गाँठ बाँधता यह मन ,
कौन जाने कब छूट जाये,
ना दिखने को पर्यंत
बस अपने जाल खुद बुनता,
कुछ पाने की तलाश मैं,
एक मूढ़ बुड़बक ,
पहचान ना हो जिसकी अभिन्न
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Sublimity of moments
Today's thoughts are picked up where I left a bit in my previous post on moments. Moments that are there and next moment the moment is gone :). How we wish some of them could linger forever and some had never occured. But isn't this sublimity that prompts many to say "live by the moment" or "cherish the moments"? And after all its not always in our hands that which one do we regret to have lived and which one would stay with us for ever. Everyday the book of memories written in words of moments may have a new chapter. And yet certain chapters may be blank or some may just disappear. Its like giving a book to a child. The child within us. We chose to read something we may find interesting. Some of which will make us laugh. Some leave us amused. And some would still be baffling. We try so hard to tear away some pages. But the book is hard bound by time. So even if we tear a part of those pages will always stick. Leaving a break in the book. Would we appreciate such a thing in a book? Then why do we wish to erase those chapters by tearing away the pages? Why not discover the chapters of our own life and try to write the next story? A collection of short stories could be as endearing as an unending saga! But no we don't. Why? That's perhaps the critical question. Because that I feel is essential to the process of self discovery. Not all of us are interested in that because we are afraid of the chapters we have written. The chapters that could define the final chapters of the book. Or the fear of the two words "The End". Whatever be the reason, unless we enjoy our own book no other reader would perhaps like it? I could be wrong or I could be right .. but the fact is that i'm still writing the chapters and still trying to discover .. Who knows the chapters might be closing too soon. On that note a work that I wrote today ..
lamhon ko qaid karne ke jeddojahad,
maano pakdne hon kuch ret ke kan,
dhool bhari aandhi main,
badalta dharatal har waqt,
kshanbhangur us lamhe ke umar|
yaadon ke samandar main,
abhi jeevit ek lamha,
maano toofan se ghiri ek kashti|
kab ubare lehron se,
ya doobe ghare paani main|
Jhulasne se pehle,
sooraj ke dhoop se bachane ko,
kuchh badalon ke chhaon main,
baarish ke ek boond ke aas lagaye
kuchh ghaas ke tinke|
lamhon ko qaid karne ke jeddojahad,
maano pakdne hon kuch ret ke kan,
dhool bhari aandhi main,
badalta dharatal har waqt,
kshanbhangur us lamhe ke umar|
yaadon ke samandar main,
abhi jeevit ek lamha,
maano toofan se ghiri ek kashti|
kab ubare lehron se,
ya doobe ghare paani main|
Jhulasne se pehle,
sooraj ke dhoop se bachane ko,
kuchh badalon ke chhaon main,
baarish ke ek boond ke aas lagaye
kuchh ghaas ke tinke|
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
A new beginning to find the start ..
Before I start on this journey I would like to give someone the credit where its due. This is for someone who helped me find a name for this blog and someone who has enriched my life so much and added a new dimension to my thoughts. So this is a tribute to her.
The Prologue: This is finally a new beginning. A new beginning of giving form to my thoughts. Thoughts that flood me a moment and then desert me. The moment that I would long to last till the last but the longing is what gets long before the words fail to become a song. The moment which I would try to stick to before it disappears in sliding sands (credit to Maddy - for these words) ..So this is an attempt to capture those moments.
Today I would like to begin with an insight on the word that I have chosen to sign off my posts with - "Contrarian"
con‧trar‧i‧an [kuh
n-trair-ee-uhn]
–noun a person who takes an opposing view, esp. one who rejects the majority opinion, as in economic matters.
Though i've got nothing to do with economic matters its a contradiction itself for I love that subject. On that note I would share my belief that I so strongly hold - "80% of the people in this world are alike who would want the other 20% to become a part of their tribe" (Didn't Pereto discover something great ? )". But at the same time its the other 20% who make the world change. These agents of change (towards white or black) are the powerhorses who either bring the other 80% to submission or make them ashamed or inspire them to greater heights. I don't know if I am in those 20% but I surely hope/aspire to be in them. And thus the definition of this contrarian. A restless soul who wants to swim against the tide of his own expectation. Fly against the wind of social storms. Erupt like a volcano in the sea of oblivious existence to create an island of solitude. An island where anyone on the journey of self discovery is welcome. Anyone who can contribute to his learning of life and add to its beauty.
Someone told me i'm verbose. So I would prefer brevity in my first thought. I hope I've peeked into myself rather than giving you who might be reading this a peek into me.
Chale the hum khojne khud ko,
ek talaash ekaant main,
karwaan saath ho liya kab,
pata na chala,
bheed main bhi hum akele,
koi samajh na saka,
duniya disha dikhaati rahi,
aur hum raah talashte rahe |
Till the next time .. hopelessly hopeful of coming back soon ..
The Prologue: This is finally a new beginning. A new beginning of giving form to my thoughts. Thoughts that flood me a moment and then desert me. The moment that I would long to last till the last but the longing is what gets long before the words fail to become a song. The moment which I would try to stick to before it disappears in sliding sands (credit to Maddy - for these words) ..So this is an attempt to capture those moments.
Today I would like to begin with an insight on the word that I have chosen to sign off my posts with - "Contrarian"
con‧trar‧i‧an [kuh
n-trair-ee-uhn] –noun a person who takes an opposing view, esp. one who rejects the majority opinion, as in economic matters.
Though i've got nothing to do with economic matters its a contradiction itself for I love that subject. On that note I would share my belief that I so strongly hold - "80% of the people in this world are alike who would want the other 20% to become a part of their tribe" (Didn't Pereto discover something great ? )". But at the same time its the other 20% who make the world change. These agents of change (towards white or black) are the powerhorses who either bring the other 80% to submission or make them ashamed or inspire them to greater heights. I don't know if I am in those 20% but I surely hope/aspire to be in them. And thus the definition of this contrarian. A restless soul who wants to swim against the tide of his own expectation. Fly against the wind of social storms. Erupt like a volcano in the sea of oblivious existence to create an island of solitude. An island where anyone on the journey of self discovery is welcome. Anyone who can contribute to his learning of life and add to its beauty.
Someone told me i'm verbose. So I would prefer brevity in my first thought. I hope I've peeked into myself rather than giving you who might be reading this a peek into me.
Chale the hum khojne khud ko,
ek talaash ekaant main,
karwaan saath ho liya kab,
pata na chala,
bheed main bhi hum akele,
koi samajh na saka,
duniya disha dikhaati rahi,
aur hum raah talashte rahe |
Till the next time .. hopelessly hopeful of coming back soon ..
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