Amidst my colleagues and other social animals who are bonded laborers in corporate jungle, who look forward for their lunch break, I dread mine. Well I was no different, but over these 3 months and after some 3 visits to dentist, I have reasons to dread it too, however irrational it might sound to be.
First task is to find the guy who came up with the term -“while in Rome, do like the Romans do“. Man, you became a cool dude by coming up with that narcissist and racist thing, may be you were Julius Caesar himself, but alas, We are Indians, and we don’t “do“ like the Romans, Texan or the ones who live in Lisbon, whatever you want to term them as a collective group. We have our way, and No its not the SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE WAY, mind you. We need to release more movies for this lot.
To get back to my fear, it arises from a keen curiosity on sheer Obsession the firangs have on how they present themselves and their looks. Irrespective of how dubious it is, they want to mask it under, “Personal Hygiene“. Oh hell yeh!! “ Like I make a flag out of my old innerwear and use it to show my support to a football club ? Insane.
There, as I am writing, comes this guy, opens his cabinet drawer, picks up his tooth brush and woof, off to brush for some 3rd time in 7 hours. You might want to say, that is a great thing…isn’t it ? Well I don’t blame you, I fell for the same trap.. I did too. And I like the cool Firang, had my own cabinet and my own second tooth brush and paste tube at work. Guess what, had I not done that, I wouldn’t be writing this irony. With my enamel on the verge of crucifying itself, I have gone back to my habit of twice a day, and one visit to Dentist a year.
So after every morsel and every sip of café you brush ? Weirdos, The real reason, why We don’t. Alright for our guys, who are no where near hygiene standards recommended for human beings, “we“mentioned below, is for the saner folks, who adhere to them. A majority of us I hope to believe. The reasons, or rather a gist of them is as below.
- We don’t greet women, by kissing them on the cheeks. Forget strangers, we don’t greet our wives like that. So we don’t care
- Sans some of them who do, the majority of us don’t gorge on Beef. Its because of your demands of quality leather, we kill our “Goddess“ and also pay huge money in getting your Baywatch stars in telling you how cruel we are. I wonder if you really saw the video or the host.
- We do not have beer in our cafeteria and do not have wine as an appetizer. We have soups for that, and most of them Don’t take that either. We have lentil soups prepared at home packed neatly. So ever wondered how you look after reading this ?
- Oh for the cholesterol issues we have, we take Pride in our FRIED stuff. So ask for a potato, you will get a potato fry, not a Bland Onion, or a Plain meat of Ham or chicken, like in Wild Wild west. We love our food and don’t care to flaunt our “Hunter´s pride“.
- Spices !!, who from your “castle-lion“ world would know that it is our spices that aids in our metabolism and ensures the food is broken down well to leave a sour taste ? And again, we do COOK our food.
- We take bath every single day. We are well aware of where, most of the infection spreads from. And we carry our own handkerchief. Oh Sorry, it is a cloth, that we use as an alternative for tissue as you call it for clearing our own bodily fluids. Not that we use a paper, and dispose it where I want and spread the virus to all masses. Ever wondered why you fall sick when your friend next desk falls sick ? Yes he throws his waste in your bin, IDIOT.
Ah well I can reason for as long as I want, but come on, I really don’t have a patience for that. So next time you give me a look, where in after having lunch with you, I come to my desk and start, without accompanying you to hear your gargles in the wash, where I behave more civilized than you, pardon me. We also GARGLE AND WASH OUR HANDS after our meal. We have wash basins in our cafeteria for the same purpose. I also intend to cut some bills on the tooth paste. Aint cheap in your world. Demand Supply gap probably. And also, am saving some effort, and pain on my own self. Moreover, that’s precisely why we have chewing gums for worst case scenario.
I will be right back folks… ….. hey can you lend some tooth paste, I ran out of it ?
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Monday, January 23, 2012
Sweat from playing violin, NEVER STINKS!
t is so easy to be imaginative and curious. Counting on those virtues, I have always wondered, how would it be, had my brain sustained the thought of how I lived inside my mother’s womb. Oh yeh! The brain with its acquired sense might reply, it is easy, you were tiny, a creature of impeccable features, secured and just waited to come out to this despair filled vanity called WORLDLY life. But I don’t remember a tiny peck. I can only imagine what I would have been or my vision would have been, when I was inside the secluded and secured place, for those tiny moments when my mother carried me around.
Until I close my eyes amidst the ambience filled with a mellowed down yellow lamp, a soothing tonal quality of the electronic tempura and the womb, to take me into her custody, THE VIOLIN. I would be insane to compare anything to equal mother´s warmth, but, practicing my violin for 3 hours, with eyes closed, I can safely dire over the risk, of saying, any art, when practiced with perseverance, takes you closer to that insipid feeling of being helpless, at the same time being reckless, just like how you would have been “helpless and claustrophobic“ inside the womb, to kick your mother hard enough at the same time being “reckless“ to kick to spoil the party.
Well it is no philosophical diatribe, but an observation as to how my life unfolded and how it unfolded the way it did, only because I had my violin as my trusted confidant. Had it not been for the art, I would have been just another individual. By saying that, I do not imply, I am an extra terrestrial, but by stating that what I mean is , I didn’t take too long to be friends with myself. Any art form, when started formally, teaches the first lesson to befriend yourself and it does so in style by freeing yourself of all the apprehensions or anxiety you would have ever harnessed. If you start it late, still fine, since it will rip your ego apart to the ground and humble you to swallow mud. Well when I pluck it wrong, I know violin is not at fault. A violin can never be at fault, only I can be. There can be only one culprit who shares the dais as the victim. There it is, I have started being modest.
It is just a memoir to my parents, that they instilled this interest in me from a young age. I just pray that all the kids get the opportunity of having an art to be their aide. It does more than help. Academic education cannot be a guiding light in your life, if you cannot value your own self. Art teaches you all there is to know about yourself. If there are young parents, or going to be ones in the near future reading this, it is a humble request, instill that sense of art form in your child from an early age. Return of Investment, in the modern financial world will be unimaginable. Moreover nothing like Indian art. I have been lucky to have got this privilege to learn an art. It has given me courage, to start all over again, when I did badly. It didn’t grade me as a topper or a failure; it was always there in its case waiting for me to come back to it. It gave me modesty, when I was over confident of it giving my side come what may. It had its moods too, and it was inversely proportional to my ego. It freed me from any fear, as it had no fear. In all, it taught me how much I have to learn. I am still learning, and I still feel blank.
In brevity, in those 3 hours of togetherness with Violin, if you ask me what I thought, I would say I don’t know. Its just like being up from Coma, because the toughest thing after a strenuous practice, especially when your mind wants more, but the body gives up due to lack of practice is, “what Now ?. “ It just seems blank“ after you open your eyes, just like when you cry, being out in this adolescent world, because may be you would have worried, Oh my god, “what now?“. Life seems empty. I don’t know how time goes, when I am playing Bahudari or a Kalyani, but all I know is I am somewhere safe. I am not adorned with a venetian mask, if at all, I am taking all of it, one by one, clothes first, to stand stark naked facing not the world but myself on the other end, the reflection being full of pretense and despair. It is like I could imagine, this is what I will be once I come out of the womb. I am sure every single child visualizes reality, and that’s precisely why it cries on being out. Very few are blessed to chance themselves to time travel and reincarnate again and again as and when they please. I do it with my confidant all the time. My mind is just blank to categorize it into any of the categories of hobby, passion, meditation, expression etc. I just play, because I love it, and I can take birth as an individual all over again after I am done.
In the end, amidst that blank neurology, which is as good as being alive again, is when you realize, how profusely you have been sweating, and the floor beneath your thigh, your palms and your forehead is filled to the brim with it. That’s when realization dawns upon you, with the warmth in your body pushing your adrenalin energy levels up, that `A sweat from the violin never stinks“
Until I close my eyes amidst the ambience filled with a mellowed down yellow lamp, a soothing tonal quality of the electronic tempura and the womb, to take me into her custody, THE VIOLIN. I would be insane to compare anything to equal mother´s warmth, but, practicing my violin for 3 hours, with eyes closed, I can safely dire over the risk, of saying, any art, when practiced with perseverance, takes you closer to that insipid feeling of being helpless, at the same time being reckless, just like how you would have been “helpless and claustrophobic“ inside the womb, to kick your mother hard enough at the same time being “reckless“ to kick to spoil the party.
Well it is no philosophical diatribe, but an observation as to how my life unfolded and how it unfolded the way it did, only because I had my violin as my trusted confidant. Had it not been for the art, I would have been just another individual. By saying that, I do not imply, I am an extra terrestrial, but by stating that what I mean is , I didn’t take too long to be friends with myself. Any art form, when started formally, teaches the first lesson to befriend yourself and it does so in style by freeing yourself of all the apprehensions or anxiety you would have ever harnessed. If you start it late, still fine, since it will rip your ego apart to the ground and humble you to swallow mud. Well when I pluck it wrong, I know violin is not at fault. A violin can never be at fault, only I can be. There can be only one culprit who shares the dais as the victim. There it is, I have started being modest.
It is just a memoir to my parents, that they instilled this interest in me from a young age. I just pray that all the kids get the opportunity of having an art to be their aide. It does more than help. Academic education cannot be a guiding light in your life, if you cannot value your own self. Art teaches you all there is to know about yourself. If there are young parents, or going to be ones in the near future reading this, it is a humble request, instill that sense of art form in your child from an early age. Return of Investment, in the modern financial world will be unimaginable. Moreover nothing like Indian art. I have been lucky to have got this privilege to learn an art. It has given me courage, to start all over again, when I did badly. It didn’t grade me as a topper or a failure; it was always there in its case waiting for me to come back to it. It gave me modesty, when I was over confident of it giving my side come what may. It had its moods too, and it was inversely proportional to my ego. It freed me from any fear, as it had no fear. In all, it taught me how much I have to learn. I am still learning, and I still feel blank.
In brevity, in those 3 hours of togetherness with Violin, if you ask me what I thought, I would say I don’t know. Its just like being up from Coma, because the toughest thing after a strenuous practice, especially when your mind wants more, but the body gives up due to lack of practice is, “what Now ?. “ It just seems blank“ after you open your eyes, just like when you cry, being out in this adolescent world, because may be you would have worried, Oh my god, “what now?“. Life seems empty. I don’t know how time goes, when I am playing Bahudari or a Kalyani, but all I know is I am somewhere safe. I am not adorned with a venetian mask, if at all, I am taking all of it, one by one, clothes first, to stand stark naked facing not the world but myself on the other end, the reflection being full of pretense and despair. It is like I could imagine, this is what I will be once I come out of the womb. I am sure every single child visualizes reality, and that’s precisely why it cries on being out. Very few are blessed to chance themselves to time travel and reincarnate again and again as and when they please. I do it with my confidant all the time. My mind is just blank to categorize it into any of the categories of hobby, passion, meditation, expression etc. I just play, because I love it, and I can take birth as an individual all over again after I am done.
In the end, amidst that blank neurology, which is as good as being alive again, is when you realize, how profusely you have been sweating, and the floor beneath your thigh, your palms and your forehead is filled to the brim with it. That’s when realization dawns upon you, with the warmth in your body pushing your adrenalin energy levels up, that `A sweat from the violin never stinks“
Monday, August 1, 2011
I Clicked !
I clicked a picture, it came out as words
I clicked a scene of nature and it crossed my world with swords
I clicked a lake, it seemed to be dry
I clicked the blue sky, it wept long to have a cry
I clicked a musician; I could hear the music unfold
I clicked a ruined empire fort, its tempest now in blindfold
I clicked the forest; it appeared to dance with lush
i clicked the rainbow, it rose high to bridge two worlds with silent hush
I clicked machines, the marvel for to be admired and revel
I clicked a graveyard, its ironies and mysteries throwing a rebel.
I clicked mankind; it felt ashamed of its hollow.
I clicked a lion, it showed the depth of sixth sense’s shallow.
I clicked a tiny insect; it showed its magnanimous colors of hue
I clicked a rain tanned window; it shone from pearls of frozen dew.
I clicked my footsteps, and i see friends’ along with mine, in some
I clicked my life; of all years, to know how young I have become.
I clicked a scene of nature and it crossed my world with swords
I clicked a lake, it seemed to be dry
I clicked the blue sky, it wept long to have a cry
I clicked a musician; I could hear the music unfold
I clicked a ruined empire fort, its tempest now in blindfold
I clicked the forest; it appeared to dance with lush
i clicked the rainbow, it rose high to bridge two worlds with silent hush
I clicked machines, the marvel for to be admired and revel
I clicked a graveyard, its ironies and mysteries throwing a rebel.
I clicked mankind; it felt ashamed of its hollow.
I clicked a lion, it showed the depth of sixth sense’s shallow.
I clicked a tiny insect; it showed its magnanimous colors of hue
I clicked a rain tanned window; it shone from pearls of frozen dew.
I clicked my footsteps, and i see friends’ along with mine, in some
I clicked my life; of all years, to know how young I have become.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Point Of No Return
he pain of pricking needle forgiven in the beginning, you should really come to this piece of land, Here we are the cattle, and the world is fertile by our own droppings. The world is not blue but plasma lit, with colors that you choose with a touch of your hand.
Oh that is so gross a description, tell me in real terms, what is that you see ?
Hmm you are so filled to the brim with pretense, let it go man, see my world come with me, Come and see how is it that we live here with angels playing disguise, I run naked, I don’t grow old, but grow younger with each breath of air. Oh we breath here, not air, but the aroma of selflessness. Smell yourself naked. The whole skin smells of aroma from fruits soaked in honey and dried in summer sun. There is no rain, its only summer, water is not salty, but sweet. I see no buildings, but tents, tents where people live not like you, but like us, like together in peace, and only thing on us is smile. We live with animals, we run with dreams. We dont dream, we live on them.
Will you tell me what is it there you see, that should compel me to take the step. I will if I am convinced.
Aah, you moral soul, always wanting justification for every single thought on your mind, well, I cant waste time, I can see angels of Avalon sitting by the tree, Oh I do see a tree. A tree that has birds around it, oh wait, in fact it has been built by birds in position of branches, which birds are those, aah some colorful some dull, they do make a great circus out there, It is a world where my feet wont get dirty even with all the walking and running barefooted. In fact I never touch foot on the ground. I float, no wonder my speed is magnified. There is no friction. I can suddenly sense myself swimming in deepest packet of water body, and i feel the water itself is non existent. I cant differentiate, even the deepest planet of ocean is sun lit, and i get a piggy ride on shark. While its tail is what is seen, i am on top of it, standing on my toe. There is no scientific analysis and experimentation. Root cause, is we only live, not think of living. Oh coming back to the tree. The tree is so full of fruits, they are brown fruits that look like a mix of apple and mango.
A mix of apple and mango ? how is that possible ?
Ah, this is where, you imagine my friend. You know what I see, the angels are cutting them pieces by pieces and waiting for me to get to them. I can see long lost Sun, again shining with glory, it feels ocean is green with jewels underneath, where in I can swim naked, and I don’t feel cold. The birds are not parched with thirst, but they are the real musicians, you can hear them hum the song that you want to hear. There is no genre, there is only love. There is peace. The whole world seems like Blue azure, with a blanket cover by ocean, and I am right in middle of it, in a seat of waves, while the animals do a tap dance, on earth, such that I can see my life being animated. In my world I get entertained J
Oh so is it just that you are tired of entertaining masses that you want to escape ?
Ah my friend, why are you so stupid ? If I wanted to escape that part, I would stop making music, or whatever that is I make. I just am too tired in your world of the word “I”. I just want to sink the self obsession, and get rid of selfishness. In brevity I have had ENOUGH of myself? Here I don’t think about me, there in simple words is no ME or I. It is us, we, and my world with beauty undefined. Are you coming as yet, can barely hear you, am running far.
But aren’t you contradicting yourself, you want to stop being too into yourself but you want to get entertained on your own world ? Is that a pun intended statement or what ?
Stupid, Absolutely stupid. What this white powder you have in hand, is a world within. It will take you to the world where you won’t think about yourself. You will only relish what you see, and what you see, is beyond vision. Beyond imagination. You want the Sun to be smaller, you make it happen by a click, you want the world to be embezzled into a far off galaxy, you personally can air lift it to the place that you deem appropriate. I am no more part of your stupid world to think about myself anymore.
Well how do you intend to come back? I guess you have overdosed yourself with this stuff or powder or that you call world within? And you are about to press your button again, that will be point of no return my friend?
Well my friend, Point of no return has been long achieved. Let me press it one more time. Oh come on, Let me press it or will ya press it for me, am too far to press it in your world.
All these trips to this tranquility have made my return to your land, filled with falsification and pretentious beings to be non existent, useless and Zilch. I see no reality there. This is where my reality is, and this is where I belong. This is where I shall be, ever smiling and ever happy with my angels singing for me to glory, while I rest in their lap in middle of ocean while the succinct coral reef, makes itself for my bed. Ah Paradise!
So what happens to the ones who would miss you back here in this world of reality?
Amen, They would realize soon, they did nothing but wasted all their lives on themselves, They are so abound themselves that they will forget I existed. Well, you will too, See you my friend, my angels are ready, and I need to be entertained, not for once, forever it is
Oh that is so gross a description, tell me in real terms, what is that you see ?
Hmm you are so filled to the brim with pretense, let it go man, see my world come with me, Come and see how is it that we live here with angels playing disguise, I run naked, I don’t grow old, but grow younger with each breath of air. Oh we breath here, not air, but the aroma of selflessness. Smell yourself naked. The whole skin smells of aroma from fruits soaked in honey and dried in summer sun. There is no rain, its only summer, water is not salty, but sweet. I see no buildings, but tents, tents where people live not like you, but like us, like together in peace, and only thing on us is smile. We live with animals, we run with dreams. We dont dream, we live on them.
Will you tell me what is it there you see, that should compel me to take the step. I will if I am convinced.
Aah, you moral soul, always wanting justification for every single thought on your mind, well, I cant waste time, I can see angels of Avalon sitting by the tree, Oh I do see a tree. A tree that has birds around it, oh wait, in fact it has been built by birds in position of branches, which birds are those, aah some colorful some dull, they do make a great circus out there, It is a world where my feet wont get dirty even with all the walking and running barefooted. In fact I never touch foot on the ground. I float, no wonder my speed is magnified. There is no friction. I can suddenly sense myself swimming in deepest packet of water body, and i feel the water itself is non existent. I cant differentiate, even the deepest planet of ocean is sun lit, and i get a piggy ride on shark. While its tail is what is seen, i am on top of it, standing on my toe. There is no scientific analysis and experimentation. Root cause, is we only live, not think of living. Oh coming back to the tree. The tree is so full of fruits, they are brown fruits that look like a mix of apple and mango.
A mix of apple and mango ? how is that possible ?
Ah, this is where, you imagine my friend. You know what I see, the angels are cutting them pieces by pieces and waiting for me to get to them. I can see long lost Sun, again shining with glory, it feels ocean is green with jewels underneath, where in I can swim naked, and I don’t feel cold. The birds are not parched with thirst, but they are the real musicians, you can hear them hum the song that you want to hear. There is no genre, there is only love. There is peace. The whole world seems like Blue azure, with a blanket cover by ocean, and I am right in middle of it, in a seat of waves, while the animals do a tap dance, on earth, such that I can see my life being animated. In my world I get entertained J
Oh so is it just that you are tired of entertaining masses that you want to escape ?
Ah my friend, why are you so stupid ? If I wanted to escape that part, I would stop making music, or whatever that is I make. I just am too tired in your world of the word “I”. I just want to sink the self obsession, and get rid of selfishness. In brevity I have had ENOUGH of myself? Here I don’t think about me, there in simple words is no ME or I. It is us, we, and my world with beauty undefined. Are you coming as yet, can barely hear you, am running far.
But aren’t you contradicting yourself, you want to stop being too into yourself but you want to get entertained on your own world ? Is that a pun intended statement or what ?
Stupid, Absolutely stupid. What this white powder you have in hand, is a world within. It will take you to the world where you won’t think about yourself. You will only relish what you see, and what you see, is beyond vision. Beyond imagination. You want the Sun to be smaller, you make it happen by a click, you want the world to be embezzled into a far off galaxy, you personally can air lift it to the place that you deem appropriate. I am no more part of your stupid world to think about myself anymore.
Well how do you intend to come back? I guess you have overdosed yourself with this stuff or powder or that you call world within? And you are about to press your button again, that will be point of no return my friend?
Well my friend, Point of no return has been long achieved. Let me press it one more time. Oh come on, Let me press it or will ya press it for me, am too far to press it in your world.
All these trips to this tranquility have made my return to your land, filled with falsification and pretentious beings to be non existent, useless and Zilch. I see no reality there. This is where my reality is, and this is where I belong. This is where I shall be, ever smiling and ever happy with my angels singing for me to glory, while I rest in their lap in middle of ocean while the succinct coral reef, makes itself for my bed. Ah Paradise!
So what happens to the ones who would miss you back here in this world of reality?
Amen, They would realize soon, they did nothing but wasted all their lives on themselves, They are so abound themselves that they will forget I existed. Well, you will too, See you my friend, my angels are ready, and I need to be entertained, not for once, forever it is
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Hope
As a 6 year old , all you would want is to run around, Live in your own world of hallucinations, thinking
It is a boon to be alive, to kick anything that moves , where in the pain of falling from jumping from so high, even as high as your bed to the ground, or taking my hand to fire to overpower it, just because i never knew, Fire could me much more powerful than me and that it has the capacity to consume me, or even incapacitate me, to teach me a lesson on mortality.
.
But as a 6 year old, there was no fear, not even a sense of apprehension that my life will take a turn that will have no ending, or not even a beginning.
Having lived 4 times the age of a 6 year old physically, and the same amount in negative growth mentally, I know it could have been me? Oh really what could have been me? A child prodigy? Doesn’t matter, every child is a prodigy by itself and for parents, and the world, it is this child, the 6 year old hyper activeness and innocence, that makes a better place to be in. To never to have a time without a smile.
But what happens, when at 6 year old, I am promoted to infinite levels of education and am taught a lesson on mortality?
Yes, 9 years back that’s exactly what happened. 6 year old “A” came from School, his penultimate day at school before he was to embark on a journey that was a turn in his life, to USA to join is father along with his family.
He came from School, threw away his little tiny boots in his typical camaraderie with his thoughts, but 3 pm, his metabolism got better of him. He took money lying at the table to help himself for a biscuit packet that he loved the most. Wish there was no money there, I just wish, there was no table, I just wish there was no metabolism, I just wish there was no shops opened, I just wish there was a rubber slip stitched to his legs, Oh I just there were No life on that day.
But alas, there was, there was the money, there was the biscuit, there was the metabolism, and there he “was” to run without footwear to the mushy earth land which was perched with thirst, and was blessed with drizzle. Drizzle enough, to never return the gift of god back home. Yes he never returned, but went in a parcel to the same God, if he existed, who sent to him as a blessing. His mortality became a curse. Curse that would haunt the family, the whole world, for the time there exists life, death and afterlife. I understood years later, he was “electrocuted”. A electric wave passed through his tiny body, from a live wire which he happened to step on , thanks to our ever efficient Electricity Board. I am sure when the waves passed, for the millisecond he was alive, he would have conversed with GOD, to give his nod, he understood the lesson of mortality and he “passed” with flying colors. No there was not a single droplet of Blood color, but still he did with flying colors.
Saturday, was a musical concert of artistes assembling from across the world. Music, as they say has no language. But it did. And enough to burry me down too deep to earthly bounds. There were couple of guys from Iran, who were performing the Persian Santoor, Lets call him “B” and Cajon, a percussion instrumentalist, named as”C”.
While the evening was filled with melancholy with the enchanting sounds of Santoor filling the air, and the Cajon consistently filling the tremors, both “B” and “C” enjoyed themselves, even without realizing they exist in a certain place called “World”. They were in trance, for 45 minutes that they played. Yes they did know the time running, as they had perfected it to an art, to keep up with time. Well deserved was the standing ovation that they acquired at the end of the performance. But it was soon to change. For the ones who stood for the tiny fraction of their life to applaud, and for me, who stood there to realize there lied a moment of awkwardness.
I, with the flow of being on top of the world with one worthless performance and compliments from the concert before “ B “ and “C”, and also reveling on my networking ability, repeated the same dumb paraphrase. As I was doing with anyone whom I met during the day. I went to “B” & “C”and realized Santoor player, “B” can talk not even two words in English, but Cajon player, “C” could. He did in a broken language, but managed to smile that no language can define, and even complimented me for my performance before them.
But It was not it. It was not the time when you feel useless. Not yet. But you always realize, before being embarrassed, a few seconds before that you will be humbled down, or a feeling like being naked and walking in crowded streets of Benaras. It always comes to your mind at least milliseconds before the actual incident. It did to me, that evening.
I asked him, “ Do you have a facebook account, with my android pointing” to let him know I would be adding him in seconds. Before which the audio system blared. I realized it was the organizer, wanting to talk. And am glad he did. At that time is when he described, that he had found those two artistes on streets of Iran and sent them flight tickets to perform here.
With that I turned to the Cajon player again, and he had the same grin, not realizing it was about them that the organizer is talking about, and for whom the audience is having a fake and flawless expression of awe, only to forget moments later at the food counter.
He said, he doesn’t have computers, replying to me, the difference of time for question was answer, was just a wait for my head to turn back to him, from the Organizer’s announcement.
What he said were the exact words imprinted on my memory, as below.
“Back home, we play every evening at 18 hours, for 2 hours, earn money, and go for dinner”.
Already feeling naked to the last part of my toe germ. It was time to dwell to myself about the irony, of both the question and the answer.
And for their talent, with my limited knowledge of that subject, they could perform with Shivkumar Sharma, yes ,That Calibre.
Two incidents, enough or too much to make me realize, I should always be undressed in my mind, to know, we as mankind have taken life too far much for granted.
While those guys played, with their eyes closed, and a smile that was epitome of trance through them, not worrying about it would be the same routine of “EARN AND DINNER” once this trance was over, it was much much similar to when "A" , lied on his coffin, with eyes closed, knowing he doesn’t have to live tomorrow or to grow up to be a faggot of a mankind, alike me.
Both lived their moments, although with brievity. “A” for 6 years, “B” and “C” for 45 minutes, or all those hours they play to earn their income.
When I rewind to the composition by “B” and “C” and to “A” lying calm and happy with eyes closed, I realize,
What really matters in life ? Even if Life really matters?
How can I realize, that the world does not need to put up with my fuss or my tantrums?
I will never convince myself on what I want from this life, but these two humbling incidents, at least made me realize, what I DON’T WANT.
And on top of that list is, my failure to convince, the ones I love the most in my life,
“That I loved them like no tomorrow and much more than yesterday”
That’s all I can do for mankind, and for the hope of it, if there is any left.
Amen
It is a boon to be alive, to kick anything that moves , where in the pain of falling from jumping from so high, even as high as your bed to the ground, or taking my hand to fire to overpower it, just because i never knew, Fire could me much more powerful than me and that it has the capacity to consume me, or even incapacitate me, to teach me a lesson on mortality.
.
But as a 6 year old, there was no fear, not even a sense of apprehension that my life will take a turn that will have no ending, or not even a beginning.
Having lived 4 times the age of a 6 year old physically, and the same amount in negative growth mentally, I know it could have been me? Oh really what could have been me? A child prodigy? Doesn’t matter, every child is a prodigy by itself and for parents, and the world, it is this child, the 6 year old hyper activeness and innocence, that makes a better place to be in. To never to have a time without a smile.
But what happens, when at 6 year old, I am promoted to infinite levels of education and am taught a lesson on mortality?
Yes, 9 years back that’s exactly what happened. 6 year old “A” came from School, his penultimate day at school before he was to embark on a journey that was a turn in his life, to USA to join is father along with his family.
He came from School, threw away his little tiny boots in his typical camaraderie with his thoughts, but 3 pm, his metabolism got better of him. He took money lying at the table to help himself for a biscuit packet that he loved the most. Wish there was no money there, I just wish, there was no table, I just wish there was no metabolism, I just wish there was no shops opened, I just wish there was a rubber slip stitched to his legs, Oh I just there were No life on that day.
But alas, there was, there was the money, there was the biscuit, there was the metabolism, and there he “was” to run without footwear to the mushy earth land which was perched with thirst, and was blessed with drizzle. Drizzle enough, to never return the gift of god back home. Yes he never returned, but went in a parcel to the same God, if he existed, who sent to him as a blessing. His mortality became a curse. Curse that would haunt the family, the whole world, for the time there exists life, death and afterlife. I understood years later, he was “electrocuted”. A electric wave passed through his tiny body, from a live wire which he happened to step on , thanks to our ever efficient Electricity Board. I am sure when the waves passed, for the millisecond he was alive, he would have conversed with GOD, to give his nod, he understood the lesson of mortality and he “passed” with flying colors. No there was not a single droplet of Blood color, but still he did with flying colors.
Saturday, was a musical concert of artistes assembling from across the world. Music, as they say has no language. But it did. And enough to burry me down too deep to earthly bounds. There were couple of guys from Iran, who were performing the Persian Santoor, Lets call him “B” and Cajon, a percussion instrumentalist, named as”C”.
While the evening was filled with melancholy with the enchanting sounds of Santoor filling the air, and the Cajon consistently filling the tremors, both “B” and “C” enjoyed themselves, even without realizing they exist in a certain place called “World”. They were in trance, for 45 minutes that they played. Yes they did know the time running, as they had perfected it to an art, to keep up with time. Well deserved was the standing ovation that they acquired at the end of the performance. But it was soon to change. For the ones who stood for the tiny fraction of their life to applaud, and for me, who stood there to realize there lied a moment of awkwardness.
I, with the flow of being on top of the world with one worthless performance and compliments from the concert before “ B “ and “C”, and also reveling on my networking ability, repeated the same dumb paraphrase. As I was doing with anyone whom I met during the day. I went to “B” & “C”and realized Santoor player, “B” can talk not even two words in English, but Cajon player, “C” could. He did in a broken language, but managed to smile that no language can define, and even complimented me for my performance before them.
But It was not it. It was not the time when you feel useless. Not yet. But you always realize, before being embarrassed, a few seconds before that you will be humbled down, or a feeling like being naked and walking in crowded streets of Benaras. It always comes to your mind at least milliseconds before the actual incident. It did to me, that evening.
I asked him, “ Do you have a facebook account, with my android pointing” to let him know I would be adding him in seconds. Before which the audio system blared. I realized it was the organizer, wanting to talk. And am glad he did. At that time is when he described, that he had found those two artistes on streets of Iran and sent them flight tickets to perform here.
With that I turned to the Cajon player again, and he had the same grin, not realizing it was about them that the organizer is talking about, and for whom the audience is having a fake and flawless expression of awe, only to forget moments later at the food counter.
He said, he doesn’t have computers, replying to me, the difference of time for question was answer, was just a wait for my head to turn back to him, from the Organizer’s announcement.
What he said were the exact words imprinted on my memory, as below.
“Back home, we play every evening at 18 hours, for 2 hours, earn money, and go for dinner”.
Already feeling naked to the last part of my toe germ. It was time to dwell to myself about the irony, of both the question and the answer.
And for their talent, with my limited knowledge of that subject, they could perform with Shivkumar Sharma, yes ,That Calibre.
Two incidents, enough or too much to make me realize, I should always be undressed in my mind, to know, we as mankind have taken life too far much for granted.
While those guys played, with their eyes closed, and a smile that was epitome of trance through them, not worrying about it would be the same routine of “EARN AND DINNER” once this trance was over, it was much much similar to when "A" , lied on his coffin, with eyes closed, knowing he doesn’t have to live tomorrow or to grow up to be a faggot of a mankind, alike me.
Both lived their moments, although with brievity. “A” for 6 years, “B” and “C” for 45 minutes, or all those hours they play to earn their income.
When I rewind to the composition by “B” and “C” and to “A” lying calm and happy with eyes closed, I realize,
What really matters in life ? Even if Life really matters?
How can I realize, that the world does not need to put up with my fuss or my tantrums?
I will never convince myself on what I want from this life, but these two humbling incidents, at least made me realize, what I DON’T WANT.
And on top of that list is, my failure to convince, the ones I love the most in my life,
“That I loved them like no tomorrow and much more than yesterday”
That’s all I can do for mankind, and for the hope of it, if there is any left.
Amen
Friday, March 11, 2011
Too Fury(ious)
If only nature had a subtle way to show its fury against mankind. Well it might say this is my subtle way of gearing up for apocalypse. Heart goes out to the incorrigible videos that are aired, seems like a directorial master piece at the hands of Disney and other animation mavericks’ studio. But no, Nature is too animated all by itself and the animation was too much to ask for.
This is a crisis, a big hit crisis, and I hope this is not multi faceted by another nuclear disaster. If nature’s hit was a disaster, we don’t need a manmade disaster to summate it. And Japan, of all Countries needs no lesson on the magnanimous effects of radioactive leaks. God no more, we don’t need impaired genetics, no impaired birth, no more.
Does it give a lesson to our Country? Well might be. We have some humungous nuclear reactors, Kalpakkam, near Chennai coastline, and BARC near Mumbai coastline. Are we well guarded if God forbid, a crisis of this nature, hits us ? Well I have no clue about it, it is for our beloved nuclear scientists to assure us for. Even for that matter, a press conference from none other than Dr A.P.J Kalam would do a lot good in giving us hope that they are well protected from Nature’s fury, and from mankind, can be answered by our Military personnel.
Hope is all, we can have, for those Japaneese people, who have shown great grit all throughout their generation, in making their country what it is today, even after crisis after crisis has hit them. It is heartening to see, USA to be the first few to offer aid to Japan. In my word, Japan is well of themselves, they will survive this impending fury of Nature again. All we can do is Hope, they carry their grit and courage that has inspired the whole world and will continue to do for generations together.
God be kind to them, and hearty condolences to the families who have lost their loved ones. While the official casualty number is not yet out, we all know, just by looking at the surly videos, it is going to be a number that will be ashamed of self. But I pray for them, sincerely, because in my opinion, one country, that deserves the best of all, is Japan.
And at the same time, hope that before Nature’s fury is directed, against us, we sought our mankind fury at various part of the Country and live peacefully, the time we have. Because we all know, and no matter how optimistic you have become or are, the clock is ticking. Nature wont take the nonsense any more.
This is a crisis, a big hit crisis, and I hope this is not multi faceted by another nuclear disaster. If nature’s hit was a disaster, we don’t need a manmade disaster to summate it. And Japan, of all Countries needs no lesson on the magnanimous effects of radioactive leaks. God no more, we don’t need impaired genetics, no impaired birth, no more.
Does it give a lesson to our Country? Well might be. We have some humungous nuclear reactors, Kalpakkam, near Chennai coastline, and BARC near Mumbai coastline. Are we well guarded if God forbid, a crisis of this nature, hits us ? Well I have no clue about it, it is for our beloved nuclear scientists to assure us for. Even for that matter, a press conference from none other than Dr A.P.J Kalam would do a lot good in giving us hope that they are well protected from Nature’s fury, and from mankind, can be answered by our Military personnel.
Hope is all, we can have, for those Japaneese people, who have shown great grit all throughout their generation, in making their country what it is today, even after crisis after crisis has hit them. It is heartening to see, USA to be the first few to offer aid to Japan. In my word, Japan is well of themselves, they will survive this impending fury of Nature again. All we can do is Hope, they carry their grit and courage that has inspired the whole world and will continue to do for generations together.
God be kind to them, and hearty condolences to the families who have lost their loved ones. While the official casualty number is not yet out, we all know, just by looking at the surly videos, it is going to be a number that will be ashamed of self. But I pray for them, sincerely, because in my opinion, one country, that deserves the best of all, is Japan.
And at the same time, hope that before Nature’s fury is directed, against us, we sought our mankind fury at various part of the Country and live peacefully, the time we have. Because we all know, and no matter how optimistic you have become or are, the clock is ticking. Nature wont take the nonsense any more.
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Living a good corrupt..
There is only one word in the recent few months and weeks that has corrupted my mind to the core, CORRUPTION.
They say, anything overboard, even hatred for that matter, will make you stand against it, and that thought is concocting in my mind. Is it really worth it to strive against Corruption ?
Well anybody who wants to get a passport at the earliest goes by the notion that he has to carry Rs 200 for getting the process moving, and closing it early. So mankind, with its advanced accounting metrics and knowledge has already accounted the extra cost, to the original cost of acquiring a Passport. Big deal?
You might want to ask, such an absurd analogy, but come to think of it. I go to a Pizza corner, and look at the menu for the price that is affordable at my wage rate, but when the bill comes, I always pay a 12% extra as “ TAX”. Now next time, I know how to account this price oscillation, and if 400 is my budget, the food shall be not more than 350 Bucks’
Well what is the difference?
By that means, Taxation, ought to be our greatest tool for corruption? But there is no mention whatsoever for that. Corruption surely needs to be checked, but my opinion, have it in your balance sheet, as a cost. Because, when we can conclude, Corruption to be a certain percentage of our GDP, we can as well for our own benefit, come to accept it as a habit,that we cannot live without.
We loathe corruption because; we do not have the opportunity to do so. It is just like the hyperbole relationship between MTV roadies and the millions of young viewers of the show. You loath it, and the two similar looking aliens on the show, but come Saturday, you are tuned to watch impregnable guys getting absurd treatment from the aliens, like a social experiment. You watch it for the only reason, that If it was me over there, I would have answered better, and I am better than the guy currently aired on video. I loathe it only because I do not have the opportunity to be there. Period.
Next time, in a restaurant charging, Service tax, ask them, if you can take the food all by yourself from the kitchen, and not pay Service tax. Awakening happens then.
They say, anything overboard, even hatred for that matter, will make you stand against it, and that thought is concocting in my mind. Is it really worth it to strive against Corruption ?
Well anybody who wants to get a passport at the earliest goes by the notion that he has to carry Rs 200 for getting the process moving, and closing it early. So mankind, with its advanced accounting metrics and knowledge has already accounted the extra cost, to the original cost of acquiring a Passport. Big deal?
You might want to ask, such an absurd analogy, but come to think of it. I go to a Pizza corner, and look at the menu for the price that is affordable at my wage rate, but when the bill comes, I always pay a 12% extra as “ TAX”. Now next time, I know how to account this price oscillation, and if 400 is my budget, the food shall be not more than 350 Bucks’
Well what is the difference?
By that means, Taxation, ought to be our greatest tool for corruption? But there is no mention whatsoever for that. Corruption surely needs to be checked, but my opinion, have it in your balance sheet, as a cost. Because, when we can conclude, Corruption to be a certain percentage of our GDP, we can as well for our own benefit, come to accept it as a habit,that we cannot live without.
We loathe corruption because; we do not have the opportunity to do so. It is just like the hyperbole relationship between MTV roadies and the millions of young viewers of the show. You loath it, and the two similar looking aliens on the show, but come Saturday, you are tuned to watch impregnable guys getting absurd treatment from the aliens, like a social experiment. You watch it for the only reason, that If it was me over there, I would have answered better, and I am better than the guy currently aired on video. I loathe it only because I do not have the opportunity to be there. Period.
Next time, in a restaurant charging, Service tax, ask them, if you can take the food all by yourself from the kitchen, and not pay Service tax. Awakening happens then.
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