Delhi. When I first visited Delhi, I was 12 years old, and with my family. You know how it is. You don't know whats happening. People are taking you everywhere, to see this that, and you somehow have to find fun in everything that is happening, trying to find some games/ice cream.. There was terrible heat, we were in old Delhi which was crowded like people waiting to get to heaven. The roads were full, with vehicles of all kinds, auto rickshaws, cycle rickshaws, buses, bullock carts, etc. and no traffic signals. You can't imagine.
6 months ago, I went to Delhi to go to Ladakh. Stayed there for 4 days at a friends place in New Delhi. This time it was quite different. It wasn't that hot. It wasn't that crowded. It was with rules. Traffic Rules. Was with the University Road. The One with the Janpath. With Chandni Chowk. My My. What a place. The whole feel was different. There was a feel.
The article I wrote about it 6 months ago.. (http://sagar-gujju.blogspot.com/2008/06/dilli-durbar-so-having-listened.html)
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Monday, December 29, 2008
A Mathematician's Apology
A very surprising titled book, by Mr. Hardy, confesses his life, his subject, and his group's inevitable way of life and viewpoints. Sarcastically, it may seem, it is a very heartily written essay, and sheds new light on what precision means.
Some of his ideas mix up with philosophy and make a stronger point than the latter. There is but an issue to be tackled. There is an inclination to believe from the essay, that philosophy is a lighter subject, lacking logic, which gives rise to many theories, and all of them being 'right' simultaneously. There are too many words being used to describe a concept/feeling. A whole book written which can be summarized in a paragraph. :)
While, Mathematics is purely, uniquely, and ubiquitously Right. There cannot be an ambiguity. Its is Exact. It doesn't use more than is required.
The reasons of pursuit of Maths is purely because of simple choices life presents. There is no higher purpose than others' occupations. He clearly states the reasons of a man's work, viz.:
1. Investigation of the Truth.
2. Professional Pride.
3. Ambition.
Everything else is derived from one or the combination of these. Any social Service for that matter is not because you want to do good to humanity, but rather you want to find the real reasons for the inequality, and your inner ambition is appreciation of yourself and satisfying your ego, at some level, be it in public, or with yourself when you are alone, justifying your good nature.
Another Statement which hits you is : 'There are very few people in this planet who can do one work extremely well, there are even fewer people who can do many things well, and there is probably no one who can do exactly two things nicely'.
He doesn't justify the mathematicians way of living, alone, pondering in a room, immersed in the same old book/paper for days on end. Though he does glorify the intellectual greatness that mathematicians HAVE to possess to continue with their careers. The aeshetics of Maths, is brought out in the light. Maths can't be felt by anyone, but a select few, and these people are doomed to life, and can't do anything else for good. Also, pure maths, which we are dealing with is unreal for the real world, it is not for Application, it is too pure to be applied to the real world. Too Succinct without any approximations of Engineers who kill the beauty.
It is humble, and proud at the same instant, flirts with the line of being sarcastic, but then its a mathematicians' work, it is as accurate as it can get, and laymen like me are unable to comprehend exactly what he means to describe.
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Hey Milan
So Am in the middle of Unbearable Lightness Of Being. Milan Kundera. Czech Setting. Till now, it has revolved around infidelity, and meaning of decision making. It has tinges of some revolution (I have little idea of Czech History, which leads to my ignorance in regards to the setting), some music detours, usage and explanations of colloquial phrases and a deeper and personal understanding of them in context of the story. The Consciousness is taken in a very binary fashion, the concept of lightness and heaviness, both becoming burdens eventually, is tackled very delicately. As in, it has been revisited at regular intervals of time, but the author doesn't force his thoughts, he recreates the perplex his mind abodes in.
I had read the Laughable Loves by the same author, and had found it to be pretty interesting, wierd but interesting.
Sexuality is handled very intricately, on the verge of wierdness. The politics involved, and the various insecurities. The lead character assumes a certain superiority, which is difficult for me to accept. The whole Czech society is difficult to understand. Maybe its because of the history, the revolution, the whole situation that the people behave this way.
There are peculiar interpretatons of the love he develops, at a very deep level of consciousness.
He doesn't try to justify it. He tries to find its meaning. The possibilities, the biases, the whole clarity he develops is believable.
It has other peculiar paragraphs.
For Example, a particular paragraph I liked:
'She shot roll after roll and gave them to foriegn Journalists (). Many of her photographs turned up in the Western Press. They were pictures of tanks, of threatening fists, of houses destroyed, of corpses covered with bloodstained red white and blue Czech flags, of young men on motorcycles racing full speed around the tanks and waving Czech flags on long staffs, of young girls in unbelievably short skirts provoking the miserably sexually famished Russian Soldiers by kissing random passersby before their eyes. As I have said before, the Russian Invasion was not only a tragedy; it was a carnival of hate filled with a curious and no longer explicable euphoria. '
It sums up so much in so less words.
Anyways, I think I will add to this as I proceed along. I really like the book till now.
I had read the Laughable Loves by the same author, and had found it to be pretty interesting, wierd but interesting.
Sexuality is handled very intricately, on the verge of wierdness. The politics involved, and the various insecurities. The lead character assumes a certain superiority, which is difficult for me to accept. The whole Czech society is difficult to understand. Maybe its because of the history, the revolution, the whole situation that the people behave this way.
There are peculiar interpretatons of the love he develops, at a very deep level of consciousness.
He doesn't try to justify it. He tries to find its meaning. The possibilities, the biases, the whole clarity he develops is believable.
It has other peculiar paragraphs.
For Example, a particular paragraph I liked:
'She shot roll after roll and gave them to foriegn Journalists (). Many of her photographs turned up in the Western Press. They were pictures of tanks, of threatening fists, of houses destroyed, of corpses covered with bloodstained red white and blue Czech flags, of young men on motorcycles racing full speed around the tanks and waving Czech flags on long staffs, of young girls in unbelievably short skirts provoking the miserably sexually famished Russian Soldiers by kissing random passersby before their eyes. As I have said before, the Russian Invasion was not only a tragedy; it was a carnival of hate filled with a curious and no longer explicable euphoria. '
It sums up so much in so less words.
Anyways, I think I will add to this as I proceed along. I really like the book till now.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
The White Tiger
Adiga - Not so much a hero, but anyways, a star
I registered a lot of negative responses about the book winning the Booker Prize, which is why I felt like reviewing the book.
The day I read about the book in the Times, as he had described it, I just wanted to read the book then and there. The next time I was at a book sellor, I bought the copy (pirated) and started on my journey.
I enjoyed it. I wouldn't dare say that the book was as good to be a prize winner. Anyways, I would like you to go a little deeper than it seems. The book doesn't offer a literary delight, or subtlety in any manner whatsoever. It is supposed to be crude. The flow cannot be uniform with other aspirations.
There are very few characters in the book. And majority of them are typical. The only significant one is the villager, his attitude, and his language is potrayed with as transparency and astuteness as possible. Its about how he's stuck within his family ties, and their traditions, serving the urban lifegiver. The concept of the Rooster Coup is nicely expressed, through the story.
Every Indian doesn't go through the deals the driver went through. Some percentage do. And those percentage may/may not think in that fashion. However, the anguish and the breakdown is perfectly justified. And in this manner, rather, the entrepreneurship has been defined and imbibed into the character. Also, there were quite few tinges of the reporter in the narration.
The light hearted ness of the whole episode in the end is nicely done, it almost feels like an anti-climax.
I loved the book the day I read it, but as I thought over it, within a week I was not so much in admiration with the book. There is nothing more than the story, the truths about the strangled desires, and the inability to be able to unshackle them and how even such a thought would be criminal. But then, I think the potrayal of such a feeling to people outside, who can't imagine how the plight of a 'low' class individual without any honour whatsoever is. The whole concept of freedom is given a new expression. It reminds me of 1984 in an non-obvious way.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Trek!
I went for a trek this weekend.. to Kalsubai near Igatpuri..it was by far one of the most difficult treks.. its the highest peak in maharashtra.. total 16 kms trekking..its about 1600 metres from sea level, and 5 degrees at the top. We trekked at night, started around 11 and reached there about 3. Ate, drank and enjoyed up there, until we started feeling the cold, so slept off huddled up together in blankets till 6 in the morning, and enjoyed more til the sun was completely out. Then started trekking down, which was a more difficult task, since we were very tired and trekking down is actually riskier.
Anyways, had a lot of fun, I hadn't trekked in years, and with all my officemates, it was awesome fun after a long long time, since was busy preparing for cfa the whole time the last 3 months !
Surprisingly, my legs dont hurt! :)
Anyways, had a lot of fun, I hadn't trekked in years, and with all my officemates, it was awesome fun after a long long time, since was busy preparing for cfa the whole time the last 3 months !
Surprisingly, my legs dont hurt! :)
Once again, the freshness in the air and the exhaustion was all I wanted and got. The wonder on myself at achieving such a feat was tremendous.
Nice to know more things about myself. Feel a lot relaxed now. The feeling of being a little lukkha has finally sinked in. I don't need to think about future plans before leaving late for home or spending some more time with friends. Feels good. :)
Hong Kong - a Peak-y experience
I went to Hong Kong to write the CFA Level 1 Examination .The examination experience was nice.The whole centre occupied around 25 thousand people at the same time. The exam was tough. Very Much. I thought I had prepared, but think notupto the mark. A lil Slack. So lesse how the results turn out. And the seriousness of the exam combined with the professionalism, and theweather was too good. Overall, nice experience.
Hong Kong is just brilliant. Superbly built, nice views, amazing people, Awesome fashion sense, and truly expensive, but totally worthit. I went to see the peak where you can see the whole city. I even went to Macau, the Las Vegas of China.. The casinos ;) The people there have too fashion conscious. And they do look good inthose clothes. Everyones hair is like Prachi Desai. Straighened, Silky. Even School Girls are like models. Boots, Skirts, and silkytops and the hair. Nice.
Irrespective of the results and the infinite kharcha, I believe it was a worthwhile experience. We stayed at Sid's relative's place, so it was comfortable and withoutmuch pain regards to food, accommodation and expenses. Traveled in Mercedes Masterpiece :) And yeah, I didn't drive it, but it was asgood. :) Starbucks coffee is as good as it is glorified to be. And yeah, Jet Flight is much much better than Lufthansa. Hot Air hostesses.
Every time I travel, something different happens. Something very similar and very jolting. Am stripped off all my worries for some time. It feels natural to be happy. Non Guilty.
And every travel gives me a new experience, new memories and new people to learn from.
Just hope my next trip is soon enough.
Hong Kong is just brilliant. Superbly built, nice views, amazing people, Awesome fashion sense, and truly expensive, but totally worthit. I went to see the peak where you can see the whole city. I even went to Macau, the Las Vegas of China.. The casinos ;) The people there have too fashion conscious. And they do look good inthose clothes. Everyones hair is like Prachi Desai. Straighened, Silky. Even School Girls are like models. Boots, Skirts, and silkytops and the hair. Nice.
Irrespective of the results and the infinite kharcha, I believe it was a worthwhile experience. We stayed at Sid's relative's place, so it was comfortable and withoutmuch pain regards to food, accommodation and expenses. Traveled in Mercedes Masterpiece :) And yeah, I didn't drive it, but it was asgood. :) Starbucks coffee is as good as it is glorified to be. And yeah, Jet Flight is much much better than Lufthansa. Hot Air hostesses.
Every time I travel, something different happens. Something very similar and very jolting. Am stripped off all my worries for some time. It feels natural to be happy. Non Guilty.
And every travel gives me a new experience, new memories and new people to learn from.
Just hope my next trip is soon enough.
Thursday, November 27, 2008
30 kms away..
Uncertainty. Numb. Angry. Restless. Helplessness. Emotional Paralysis.
The night the news hit the TV, we were a little scared, (me and my bro who had just reached home, for our parents who were traveling in a train from dadar to malad. On calling them up and reassuing they were ok, we continued to form our analysis (rather the forced analysis of the tv channels) about the possible gangwar going in south bombay. Hinting about 10 of my friends to reach home asap, i slept being optimistic that the situation will be good by the morning, ending with sorrow.
Morning saw news flashing about the apex officers being killed, and extent of the operation, and rumours of JW, borivali, and goregaon firings. Office was called off. Curew in South Bombay.
Then went on the hours of news watching. Trying to comprehend the extent of damage, the reasons of the act, affirmations of optimism and hope that it will get over soon, and the country cannot be held ransom by a couple of dozen of obsessed people.
Then was proven wrong by 10 hours of news.
Being a Mumbaikar, the amount of hope, dare devilry which I possess, I thought was unmatchable. Bomb Blasts were followed by mourn and carrying on our tasks taking risks of another blast within the vicinity, based on blind faith on the city, on its police, on its people, on myself.
Not this time.
I was actually SCARED. Very scared. Of uncertainty. Of who will finally win.
The certainty that Bombay will come over them soon had died. There was a probability that they might go free and create havoc. Kill more. Kill Me.
I was actually scared of going out for a cigarette. What if Something happened? Was I sure? Nope.
Will I ever be able to Drink at Leopolds with the same Laughter and Revelry? Will we be young forever? Will we trust a passer by on his words when he says, its safe to roam around in Bombay at night? During the day? Traveling in a train? Sneaking into Taj just to checkout the chick who went in mini?
the chat i had with a friend,
The night the news hit the TV, we were a little scared, (me and my bro who had just reached home, for our parents who were traveling in a train from dadar to malad. On calling them up and reassuing they were ok, we continued to form our analysis (rather the forced analysis of the tv channels) about the possible gangwar going in south bombay. Hinting about 10 of my friends to reach home asap, i slept being optimistic that the situation will be good by the morning, ending with sorrow.
Morning saw news flashing about the apex officers being killed, and extent of the operation, and rumours of JW, borivali, and goregaon firings. Office was called off. Curew in South Bombay.
Then went on the hours of news watching. Trying to comprehend the extent of damage, the reasons of the act, affirmations of optimism and hope that it will get over soon, and the country cannot be held ransom by a couple of dozen of obsessed people.
Then was proven wrong by 10 hours of news.
Being a Mumbaikar, the amount of hope, dare devilry which I possess, I thought was unmatchable. Bomb Blasts were followed by mourn and carrying on our tasks taking risks of another blast within the vicinity, based on blind faith on the city, on its police, on its people, on myself.
Not this time.
I was actually SCARED. Very scared. Of uncertainty. Of who will finally win.
The certainty that Bombay will come over them soon had died. There was a probability that they might go free and create havoc. Kill more. Kill Me.
I was actually scared of going out for a cigarette. What if Something happened? Was I sure? Nope.
Will I ever be able to Drink at Leopolds with the same Laughter and Revelry? Will we be young forever? Will we trust a passer by on his words when he says, its safe to roam around in Bombay at night? During the day? Traveling in a train? Sneaking into Taj just to checkout the chick who went in mini?
the chat i had with a friend,
"The blast, even the first time it was the same it was due to the certainty that its over as in ho gaya blast ab nahi hoga, this is like an ongoing thing, its still not over, might be over 40 hours now. I know i cant go to churchgate right now
I CANT
thats the scariest part
somebody might be still hiding in some other building other than those reported in the media"
somebody might be still hiding in some other building other than those reported in the media"
Was full of fear at around 4 p.m. when I was at home, partially because my brother was watching the broadcast the whole time, my father was making theories for the act, and I was trying to study for the CFA , due next Sunday. Also, at the back of my mind was that my exam centre is Bankok, Thailand and the airport there is closed down by protestors. It was like someboedy was terrorising my life.
With noone to express my thoughts, I thought I would call some of my friends and share my feelings. Called some people and released my insecurities, and felt better. Went for a smoke, came back tried to study but to no avail. My mind was full of quickly forwarding non answered questions. Could this be happening for real? Could such a thing happen to Bombay? My Bombay?
The bombay I was so proud of. The Bombay whose Vadapav and Cutting I missed when I was in Germany. The Bombay where we considered noone can touch the 'Town'. That is a haven for big people. For wealthy people. For people with opinions. With Freedom. With the Culture of Bombay. The Southies. The Obviously Superior people. The People who controlled us. Us, who ran Bombay. But were still the lower strata. The Bombay of Monuments. THe Bombay of Irish Cafes. The Bombay of Coolest, laid back places to Drink. The Fort. The book Sellors. The Marine Drives. The High rises. The epitome of romance. The epitome of destination for a hangout. Away from all the madness in the suburbs. The walks around the JJ Flyover. The getting drowned in the rain at Chowpaty. Mocha, Fountain Sizzlers, Xaviers, Navy Nagar, the TIFR, Sterling, gateway and the Taj. The Bombay I used to love. The Bombay I will love after 7 days. The Bombay which I will sympathize now. The Bombay which I want to save. The Bombay which I want to strengthen even more. The bombay which has lived through so much. The Pride which comes along, the genuine affection which arises out of such feelings, such terrifying incidents is nowhere to be seen. No two people will ever share the same feeling about a city, other than in Bombay. Its sheer love.
But now, am scared. I think about my next move. Am not that bindaas guy whos hanging by the pole in a train, trusting the person next to me, who will pull me over if I'm about to fall off.
I wake up at 6, study for a couple of hours, avoiding TV, have a cup of tea. Go towards switching on the TV, Parying for a complete success and an overall finish to the whole episode, when I see the encounter has started.
I go to my room, look out. Look at the empty streets. Its a Thursday Morning. Its Sunder Nagar. Malad. Thirty Kms away from Colaba. And I feel the disgust. The Sickness. The whole stench shoots up my head, my face becomes pitch red and I become fuming red. Am Full of anger and hit my hand in the window. Angry. A tear flows out. The feeling of helplessness combined with restlessness, someone else controlling my life is killing me to the core, makes the flow stronger. A million screams are trapped in me, as I try to control myself to avoid a conversation at home. My Mom is sleeping on the next bed. I gush myself onto a pillow, let it soak the wetness.
Just to try to overcome this feeling, I try getting up, get ready, and convince my parents that its necessay for me to move out of home, not because I can't afford a holiday, but I can't afford this feeling.
I get out, being paranoid about the rickshaw am sitting in, reach office and hear more humours of shootouts in VT. Networks have been jammed. It was a rumour. TV channels are damned.
What next? Will the people arise? Be less paranoid? Be the firm thinkers they used to be? Be the ones with the most fighting spirit? Be the ones with the never say die attitude? The Unbreakable, the city that never stops, has it stopped? Has it slept? Finally?
The Psyche of these people and the acts can be, unfortunately very well explained and the minds of these people, with all the agression and possibe strategists, is but unavoidable. Circumstances. Fate. Of Bombay. And the people here.
I still fear to imagine the plight of a person returning from a late shift, from VT Station, being shot at. 'What harm have I done to an Iraqi? I have 3 children waiting to see my face. Waiting to eat dinner with me. How and who will tell them that somebody killed me for this reason? Will they understand, ever? Wont they take part in the same battle just to take out their frustration?' This continues to depress me.
Though in times of distress, I still have a ray of light in my mind, which brings a gleam, to ask people not to panic, to ask myself to hold myself together, to just imagine that this is one those rare things that happen, and we have to learn from it and move on. Try to bring things back to normal.
Go to Leopolds and drink the same drought beer with jassi and vibhu, and enjoy with the same innnocent laughter. Roam around in trains, looking at the cricket being played in the Police gymkhana grounds at marine lines, taking my girlfriend for a romantic evening, buying books at fort, taking pics of the awesome buildings, and visit the freshness and heritage of the South.
Right now, 40 hours later, Taj is being bombed again from the inside by a lone terrorist hiding with the hostages. News os around 10 terrorists on the run in Bombay untraced are being heard.
There is no end. There is no beginning anymore. It has begun. We need a White Knight. Its become so similar to the Dark Knight, Die Hard. Baazi.
The impacts of US/UK citizens to be afraid to come to India, has been good. But for how long? Does this effect last forever? Don't people understand that this is temporary, they will have to come here, now and then for business and otherwise? Can't this happen anywhere else too?
Bombay, was not that easy a target for all this? This could have happened to any developing nation. Not US or UK of course. They are too strong to be tackled like this by those misfits.
I think this was a long time after which I cried out of Fear. Such a thing happened to me in Germany, when I landed and went to a train station to catch a train to a city. And I missed the train. And there was noone to talk to English, and I was with my full luggage, and really lonely. Felt scared. Called home after reaching an ISD.
In times like these, we learn to live again, in the City of God. Les hope I can channelize all these feelings into anger and live with it forever reminding me to not succumb at the terror they tried to inculcate in me, lest their purpose is fulfilled. Will have to sometime get rid of the paranoia and keep the disgust going, keeping the same lifestyle.
With noone to express my thoughts, I thought I would call some of my friends and share my feelings. Called some people and released my insecurities, and felt better. Went for a smoke, came back tried to study but to no avail. My mind was full of quickly forwarding non answered questions. Could this be happening for real? Could such a thing happen to Bombay? My Bombay?
The bombay I was so proud of. The Bombay whose Vadapav and Cutting I missed when I was in Germany. The Bombay where we considered noone can touch the 'Town'. That is a haven for big people. For wealthy people. For people with opinions. With Freedom. With the Culture of Bombay. The Southies. The Obviously Superior people. The People who controlled us. Us, who ran Bombay. But were still the lower strata. The Bombay of Monuments. THe Bombay of Irish Cafes. The Bombay of Coolest, laid back places to Drink. The Fort. The book Sellors. The Marine Drives. The High rises. The epitome of romance. The epitome of destination for a hangout. Away from all the madness in the suburbs. The walks around the JJ Flyover. The getting drowned in the rain at Chowpaty. Mocha, Fountain Sizzlers, Xaviers, Navy Nagar, the TIFR, Sterling, gateway and the Taj. The Bombay I used to love. The Bombay I will love after 7 days. The Bombay which I will sympathize now. The Bombay which I want to save. The Bombay which I want to strengthen even more. The bombay which has lived through so much. The Pride which comes along, the genuine affection which arises out of such feelings, such terrifying incidents is nowhere to be seen. No two people will ever share the same feeling about a city, other than in Bombay. Its sheer love.
But now, am scared. I think about my next move. Am not that bindaas guy whos hanging by the pole in a train, trusting the person next to me, who will pull me over if I'm about to fall off.
I wake up at 6, study for a couple of hours, avoiding TV, have a cup of tea. Go towards switching on the TV, Parying for a complete success and an overall finish to the whole episode, when I see the encounter has started.
I go to my room, look out. Look at the empty streets. Its a Thursday Morning. Its Sunder Nagar. Malad. Thirty Kms away from Colaba. And I feel the disgust. The Sickness. The whole stench shoots up my head, my face becomes pitch red and I become fuming red. Am Full of anger and hit my hand in the window. Angry. A tear flows out. The feeling of helplessness combined with restlessness, someone else controlling my life is killing me to the core, makes the flow stronger. A million screams are trapped in me, as I try to control myself to avoid a conversation at home. My Mom is sleeping on the next bed. I gush myself onto a pillow, let it soak the wetness.
Just to try to overcome this feeling, I try getting up, get ready, and convince my parents that its necessay for me to move out of home, not because I can't afford a holiday, but I can't afford this feeling.
I get out, being paranoid about the rickshaw am sitting in, reach office and hear more humours of shootouts in VT. Networks have been jammed. It was a rumour. TV channels are damned.
What next? Will the people arise? Be less paranoid? Be the firm thinkers they used to be? Be the ones with the most fighting spirit? Be the ones with the never say die attitude? The Unbreakable, the city that never stops, has it stopped? Has it slept? Finally?
The Psyche of these people and the acts can be, unfortunately very well explained and the minds of these people, with all the agression and possibe strategists, is but unavoidable. Circumstances. Fate. Of Bombay. And the people here.
I still fear to imagine the plight of a person returning from a late shift, from VT Station, being shot at. 'What harm have I done to an Iraqi? I have 3 children waiting to see my face. Waiting to eat dinner with me. How and who will tell them that somebody killed me for this reason? Will they understand, ever? Wont they take part in the same battle just to take out their frustration?' This continues to depress me.
Though in times of distress, I still have a ray of light in my mind, which brings a gleam, to ask people not to panic, to ask myself to hold myself together, to just imagine that this is one those rare things that happen, and we have to learn from it and move on. Try to bring things back to normal.
Go to Leopolds and drink the same drought beer with jassi and vibhu, and enjoy with the same innnocent laughter. Roam around in trains, looking at the cricket being played in the Police gymkhana grounds at marine lines, taking my girlfriend for a romantic evening, buying books at fort, taking pics of the awesome buildings, and visit the freshness and heritage of the South.
Right now, 40 hours later, Taj is being bombed again from the inside by a lone terrorist hiding with the hostages. News os around 10 terrorists on the run in Bombay untraced are being heard.
There is no end. There is no beginning anymore. It has begun. We need a White Knight. Its become so similar to the Dark Knight, Die Hard. Baazi.
The impacts of US/UK citizens to be afraid to come to India, has been good. But for how long? Does this effect last forever? Don't people understand that this is temporary, they will have to come here, now and then for business and otherwise? Can't this happen anywhere else too?
Bombay, was not that easy a target for all this? This could have happened to any developing nation. Not US or UK of course. They are too strong to be tackled like this by those misfits.
I think this was a long time after which I cried out of Fear. Such a thing happened to me in Germany, when I landed and went to a train station to catch a train to a city. And I missed the train. And there was noone to talk to English, and I was with my full luggage, and really lonely. Felt scared. Called home after reaching an ISD.
In times like these, we learn to live again, in the City of God. Les hope I can channelize all these feelings into anger and live with it forever reminding me to not succumb at the terror they tried to inculcate in me, lest their purpose is fulfilled. Will have to sometime get rid of the paranoia and keep the disgust going, keeping the same lifestyle.
Lets Hope.
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Furrore
Talking to Sheru made me realize how satisfied and non-ambitious have I suddenly become. Reading books on Existentialism, Siddhartha, led me to believe I had a unlimited amount of knowledge to perceive from my experiences and endeavors and I shall put 'infi' fight and remain energetic throughout the day trying to achieve maximum. Professionalism. Absistence. Objectivity. Energetic. Javaan.
Last few days (couple of Weeks) Have been as numb as they can get. Just plain old work in office, those long 16 hours in office amounting to a total of around 75 hours per week for the last two weeks, not giving any space for personal or social life, or to my recreation.
Weekends are a naught, meeting people, serving people, and serving the social networks I intend to follow. Crap. Need to get on my toes do what I do, had promised myself to do, and continue with my pursuit of happiness.
Last weekend, Saturday night, jassi arrived at Sheels place, just to visit Hard Rock Cafe, HRC (Our new SP), for my job treat (Long pending since 4-5 months). And man o man, what a night!
the first time I visited HRC last year, it was this place with an aura around it, its a place of socialites with Expensive items and hard rock next to Totos, a big big place. The next few times were just a roll up, they meant it was a Mandir we had to visit for the music. But this night was different. This night, there was fire juggling. YMCA 6 times. Fuckall music.
And at least 25 women, who looked hotter than page 3 socialites, or should I say, I have never seen the concentration of hotness in A place even in Europe. Those Shortest minis, those spaghetis and rolling dresses, beautiful faces (No, not made up hot faces, but beautiful ones), Drunk women drooling over each other, posing modeling shots for a photographer, dancing on YMCA with the waiters. The place was jam packed, I think with around 300 odd people. At one YMCA, there were 10 women on the tables dancing, and at least 6 of them looked as if they could enter a Miss India show (Not sure about the intellect though :D)
HRC has always been the place to see hot chicks, but not these levels ! We couldn't take our eyes off them!
The most tharki, havasi, junta around there was none other than us. :(
We looked like chindhi people drinking something, headbanging at some good songs and enjoying with friends. While they seem to be having a hoopla. It seemed that they had so much energy, money and beauty to flaunt. They were the happiest people it seemed. the youthful vibrancy, the zest in the air was unmatched. It was like being in Mood I Rock fest. You can imagine.
Just a thought welled up my mind, in these times of distress everywhere, there are these people enjoying every moment, living upto it, will go some place, have sex with their newly found one night stands and then go home drunk at 5 in the morning, then carry on with their lives. These are the optimistic people, who have the power, the financial aukaat, and can aspire to do what they want to do, steer themselves.
On another level, I thought evolution of places like HRC is such a symbol of the spread of happiness (Please leave capitalism and business for once moment). Such places are the epitomes of 300 people being happy for a couple of days. And refresh themselves. The whole world has places, things, and events to make each other happy. Everyone fights for the same deal. Some profit out of it. Others just enjoy plain. Too Much abstraction. Sorry.
So, coming out of bed today, I decided I would try to be as optimistic, energetic, and controlled as possible. Will work again to be on the path of the golden mean (Aristotle), as I was some weeks back. This controlled action, thought and aukaat mein rehkar sochna, prediction and confidence is good. NO commitment, less expectation, reasonable expectation, sensible movements, slowly and steadily moving towards a higher goal, growing towards something more beautiful than just laughter.
Laughter is a killer btw! Me and chirag were just discussing the other day how we would never be able to live without us laughing at every tiny bit of crap! We laugh at the mere dialogue delivery, at our 'studness'! Anyways, that would turn out to be boring for you, Reader.
Just remember what I told sheru yesterday, 'I have realized that our when the basic goal is happiness. A very simple realization it is, though is very profound. When I work, I become happy, when I study Cfa I become happy, When I read the paper, when I eat, when I go out for boozing, when I treat for my job, when I meet somebody, when I'm sad over something, I drink again, whenI read a novel, when I read philosophy, when I'm with a girl, when I abstain, when I sleep, whatever I do makes my happy. Then why the fuck are we thinking so much!
So let me begin with my daily chores of cleaning up my mind with some news, eating an apple, and drinking some beautiful water.
Just to clear out the statistics, HRC - 5 people with 1 teetotaller, 26 beers, 12 pegs of whiskey, some food billing to 8K.
Just to remind you, it was my job treat. Fuck.
Last few days (couple of Weeks) Have been as numb as they can get. Just plain old work in office, those long 16 hours in office amounting to a total of around 75 hours per week for the last two weeks, not giving any space for personal or social life, or to my recreation.
Weekends are a naught, meeting people, serving people, and serving the social networks I intend to follow. Crap. Need to get on my toes do what I do, had promised myself to do, and continue with my pursuit of happiness.
Last weekend, Saturday night, jassi arrived at Sheels place, just to visit Hard Rock Cafe, HRC (Our new SP), for my job treat (Long pending since 4-5 months). And man o man, what a night!
the first time I visited HRC last year, it was this place with an aura around it, its a place of socialites with Expensive items and hard rock next to Totos, a big big place. The next few times were just a roll up, they meant it was a Mandir we had to visit for the music. But this night was different. This night, there was fire juggling. YMCA 6 times. Fuckall music.
And at least 25 women, who looked hotter than page 3 socialites, or should I say, I have never seen the concentration of hotness in A place even in Europe. Those Shortest minis, those spaghetis and rolling dresses, beautiful faces (No, not made up hot faces, but beautiful ones), Drunk women drooling over each other, posing modeling shots for a photographer, dancing on YMCA with the waiters. The place was jam packed, I think with around 300 odd people. At one YMCA, there were 10 women on the tables dancing, and at least 6 of them looked as if they could enter a Miss India show (Not sure about the intellect though :D)
HRC has always been the place to see hot chicks, but not these levels ! We couldn't take our eyes off them!
The most tharki, havasi, junta around there was none other than us. :(
We looked like chindhi people drinking something, headbanging at some good songs and enjoying with friends. While they seem to be having a hoopla. It seemed that they had so much energy, money and beauty to flaunt. They were the happiest people it seemed. the youthful vibrancy, the zest in the air was unmatched. It was like being in Mood I Rock fest. You can imagine.
Just a thought welled up my mind, in these times of distress everywhere, there are these people enjoying every moment, living upto it, will go some place, have sex with their newly found one night stands and then go home drunk at 5 in the morning, then carry on with their lives. These are the optimistic people, who have the power, the financial aukaat, and can aspire to do what they want to do, steer themselves.
On another level, I thought evolution of places like HRC is such a symbol of the spread of happiness (Please leave capitalism and business for once moment). Such places are the epitomes of 300 people being happy for a couple of days. And refresh themselves. The whole world has places, things, and events to make each other happy. Everyone fights for the same deal. Some profit out of it. Others just enjoy plain. Too Much abstraction. Sorry.
So, coming out of bed today, I decided I would try to be as optimistic, energetic, and controlled as possible. Will work again to be on the path of the golden mean (Aristotle), as I was some weeks back. This controlled action, thought and aukaat mein rehkar sochna, prediction and confidence is good. NO commitment, less expectation, reasonable expectation, sensible movements, slowly and steadily moving towards a higher goal, growing towards something more beautiful than just laughter.
Laughter is a killer btw! Me and chirag were just discussing the other day how we would never be able to live without us laughing at every tiny bit of crap! We laugh at the mere dialogue delivery, at our 'studness'! Anyways, that would turn out to be boring for you, Reader.
Just remember what I told sheru yesterday, 'I have realized that our when the basic goal is happiness. A very simple realization it is, though is very profound. When I work, I become happy, when I study Cfa I become happy, When I read the paper, when I eat, when I go out for boozing, when I treat for my job, when I meet somebody, when I'm sad over something, I drink again, whenI read a novel, when I read philosophy, when I'm with a girl, when I abstain, when I sleep, whatever I do makes my happy. Then why the fuck are we thinking so much!
So let me begin with my daily chores of cleaning up my mind with some news, eating an apple, and drinking some beautiful water.
Just to clear out the statistics, HRC - 5 people with 1 teetotaller, 26 beers, 12 pegs of whiskey, some food billing to 8K.
Just to remind you, it was my job treat. Fuck.
Thursday, August 14, 2008
So, Where Shall We Go?
हमको मन की शक्ति देना मनविजय करें ,
दूसरो की जय से पहले ख़ुद को जय करें ।।
दूसरो की जय से पहले ख़ुद को जय करें ।।
Discussions among friends about joining a ngo, or doing something for somebody except ourselves, again instigated within me a sense of guilt and shame, alongwith the confusion and plethora of choices that my ignorance bestows me with.
Firstly, what principle should one follow? Greater good of the society. Or good for an individual.
Work with a local organization with greater impact on 2 children for 10 years, or work towards 'upliftment' of 1000 slum dwellers? Be a part of an NGO, which I know is minting money and paying huge salaries out of the donations received, or be a part of a voluntary org where there is no funding, no salary?
Listen to the speech made my Mr. Manmohan Singh, its like a poem. Sung with great rhythm, melody and hope. The optimism in his voice is enchanting. Then come the ideas I have been developing. Remember Deccan Airways? Rs. 300 a ticket? Why did they rise to 1000? Now, tribals in maharashtra cannot afford the same. Just because the government needs that 100 % tax on aviation. Nice.
Such incomprehensive and non-complimentary policies will not only harm the nation, but not justify his speech. Now, coming to the point of development. Discrimination and Development.
Of whom? Economic Growth, development, social service, infrastructure, standard of living, basic education, social awareness, healthcare, sports, blah blah. Ring a bell?
Abhinav Bindra. Doing the nation proud. Why the showers of laudes and cash prizes on him? Isn't he already a filthy rich man with assets of around 200 crores? Is it such a great achievement? The sportsmanship, yes. The spirit, no. I find the spirit better in my housemaid, who works at my house for Rs. 400 per month, and sends her kids for monthly private schooling of Rs. 1000, + tutions worth Rs. 300. Imagining the plight?
अमीरी है सितारा गरीबी है एक आँसू ...
Externalizing resources, distributing electricity for exorbitant prices (Reliance prices per watt are amazingly and foolishly high), Jammu Kashmir foolishness, the naxalite furore, Rang de basanti emotion, Hakeekat?
Policy making, being a volunteer, be an activist, be part of the local political organization, start a small school, be a social entrepreneur, start a company adding value to millions, be a social consultant.
What is the optimal path?
With a noble cause, can power still remain pure?
Are means to reach an end justifiable?
Yuva, RDB, Lakshya, Haasil, Shool, Satya, Munnabhai - Give some pointers.
So, a recent survey somewhere enlightened me: For every Rupee used for implementing a social project, Rs. 25000 is spent for getting that money, paying salaries to the officials involved, infrastructure etc. Horrendous?
I once visited Dr. Apte's house in a village near Solapur to see his self-sustainable house, with a farm growing everything to eat, a life without electricity, everything natural. (Dr. Apte is an agriculturist, worked for the government for 20 years) We stayed there for 2 days one night. We were around 20 of us from different parts of Maharashtra, forming a group called Nirmaan. Mr. Apte was a very well educated man and a man of words. He explained every little detail of his Gandhian following and the injustice to the farmers due to the price controls, while inflation kept on growing, which an urban person can never understand on his own. There was an AIR journalist there, from Bombay, who was talking to us and discussing the same. So, when I explained my views about things, IITB, resources and my future plans, politics etc, she had one question to ask: Why have iitians come here to this village? I was convinced to give her a piece of my mind, but then decided to control. I still regret that moment. Why can't I know more about India's villages?
Intellectual discussions, Planning, projecting, and estimating the effects of a particular thing on a particular case. Required. Though also required is the further implementation. Patience. Dare Devilry. Men and women of Courage. Or be strong enough, powerful enough and rich enough to have an impact. This seems so hypocritic.
Or continue what we are doing, pay taxes, be a good citizen, attend polls, attend the society meetings, maintain a sense of decorum, be a just and honest citizen with a clean heart.
The parliamentary vote session produced such a sense of shame, that we as a people are such. No, they are not, all of us. They reflect us. Considering the state as a separate entity than us. State and Society are not different. State is not for society. alone. State is by society. For society, together with society. More than 2 crore employees work in the government (state and central). The others too have a duty.
Suddenly a humming tone:
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high;
Where knowledge is free;
Where knowledge is free;
Where the world has not been broken up into fragments by narrow domestic walls;
Where words come out from the depth of truth;
Where tireless striving stretches its arms towards perfection;
Where the clear stream of reason has not lost its way into the dreary desert sand of dead habit;
Where the mind is led forward by thee
Into ever-widening thought and action - - Into that heaven of freedom,
My Father, let my country awake
Into ever-widening thought and action - - Into that heaven of freedom,
My Father, let my country awake
-गीतांजलि
A beautiful dream, lush green grass and azure skies with laughter flowing in the wind, happiness is just the way of life, everyone smiling at the moment, and a tear in my eye being caught by a butterfly. Me-topia.
Luxury of saying all this comes from the fact that I can still type and earn a good enough amount. The day my house be destroyed in floods, or I become a victim of a bomb blast, no longer will I be able to discuss, or even pity anyone similar. Will Regret my misunderstanding of Guilt.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Dollar Parity
Let us take some figures for eg.
One dollar exchange rate = 40.
Purchasing power parity: 1:5, i.e. you can spend 5 times in India with as much money as in the US.
How should this be possible? Shouldn't labour be worth the same? Shouldn't a chocobar equal to one chocobar and not five in india?
Some countries develop, some don't, some at a faster rate. So inflations are different in every country. Exchange rates drop, rise. Parities change. But who started the exchange rate? Is it ruled by demand and supply alone? More countries believing in the US, and thus buyin more US dolllars so its worth increases? A faster path to production, industrialization and smarter tactics? You obviously can't just increase minting money, you have to create moneys worth, real money. Sell. Produce. Export. SO did these countries, the US, australia, NZ start earlier and got ahead in the race? Do the unemployment rate, trade balances, interest rates affect the dollar weakness? Yes, they do. So are we saying, we started out late, and hence are behing the US, and now until the US screws up, we are not going to beat them? Or NZ for that matter?
Secondly, its unfair for a global citizen to be living lives on parity. Parity should be one, such should be things. Third world, first world. Reaping benefits for a few smart tactics of a few ancestors in a few countries.
And this power is so great, that it can move Manmohan to sign a deal, or governments can fall on the orders of a US national decision. The pressure of the World bank, IMF, UN, and the G8, is too artificial but humongous enough to be gone against by anyone. Someone like Che or Osama or Sadam are upto it. Putting a goverment at stake in order to let some businessmen sell you uranium, when the only stake a hand is some thousand megawattt power. Sounds very goody goody and problem solver, but do those billions of dollars of dollars solve the problem of electricity? Aren't we self-sufficient or even smarted to buy it cheaper from someone else?
Are we doubting Indian scientists for developing the technologies for the same that we need some capitalist to sell us the same? We export everything under the sun in thousands of cruises and planes, and we get a plane of uranium in return, and it equals out all trade balances with a country. Wtf. Economic disparity and human worth are proportional in this world. Economic disparity is due to the production and advancement, while human worth is due to the exchange rate. Now, is it true that, if I want to steal some money, I better get a passport and steal in the UK and return home to become a millionaire!
The injustice in this world very well disguised by the industrialization. I will add to this post soon as I keep on searching on facts.
Romantic math
Square Root of 3
There are ways how a geek can propose to his high school sweetheart, and then there is this poem:I'm sure that I will always be
A lonely number like root three
The three is all that's good and right,
Why must my three keep out of sight
Beneath the vicious square root sign,
I wish instead I were a nine
For nine could thwart this evil trick,
with just some quick arithmetic
I know I'll never see the sun, as 1.7321
Such is my reality, a sad irrationality
When hark! What is this I see,
Another square root of a three
As quietly co-waltzing by,
Together now we multiply
To form a number we prefer,
Rejoicing as an integer
We break free from our mortal bonds
With the wave of magic wands
Our square root signs become unglued
Your love for me has been renewed
Friday, June 27, 2008
Dilli Durbar
So having listened tirefully to the comparison of delhi bombay lifestyles, youth, public temperaments and food, I finally landed off the artistic name, Hazrat Nizamuddin finding vibhu's car in the parking lot in the direction of Sarai Kalekhan. Smoking a puff after 14 hours, being full with the plethora of food provided by the 2 tier AC, felt the stench and the invitations from the rickshaw-wallas. Cycle rickshaw, I was yet to discover involves more mehnat than the auto, but earns more too, due to less maintenance and cutting off petrol. Maybe this is the future of no-oil world.
Reaching Vibhu's kothi, a perfect place to be out of the city, with a 2500 sq.ft. apartment, in a locality like Shivaji Park. Roads so wide they could fit 3 buses going one way itself. Public so less in number on spaces so empty, it feels like Jamnagar. A town with noone interested in earning money. No one running so fast so as to leave a breath. Everyone is so calm, composed, waiting non-eagerly for the next bus, walking down the lane, continuing the lanes of their lives with such well known ignorance, so deep felt knowledge of the so perfect living conditions, satisfied.
Desires and ambitions are but a farce here. Its all integrated in the whole thinking. Having roamed around Palika, realized the difference of salesmanship and capitalistic structure. While in Bombay, store handlers would attract customers with such force, but be inviting. They would succumb to the customers satisfaction of being right, believing the customer is always right. Here its not the case. The pride of running a store, the self respect of being right, and the right to sell a thing for he/she chooses it for, is more important. Can't judge either. Each has its own charm. Capitalism v/s Dignity.
Being drunk at a SP watching India beat Pakistan to a target of 300, felt good. Reaching home felt bad. Not because it was home, but it was past 12. Aunty was angry. And it was not different as happens with my Mom in Bombay. So some things are the same in both the cities. :)
Had met Vibhu's cousin, the jugadumax banda. Knows all the optimal paths around here, the best bars, the best ice creams, best buys from any shopping place, and everything possible in a city. Cute yet street smart.
Girls. Heard that Delhi girls are hot, hotter than the ones in Bombay, contrary to my experience. We visited entire Delhi, well almost, I couldn't visit any mall (Yes, i know missed the hotspots)
We landed at Chandni Chowk traveling in the local bus + auto, and landed in somewhere very synergetic. Its a mixture of everything possible. Cosmopolitan. Stood beside the Red Fort, overlooking the Jain Derasar, roamed around to see the cloth merchants and kirane type shops, past a Baptist Church. Visited the Gurudwara of Sri Tej Bahadur's Martyrdom. First time ever.
Felt good. Haldirams was just fantastic. The best various types of sweets are showcased so beautifully.
We bought a smoke extension type of a hukka, for 10 bux. Its awsum. Cancelled my date at gurgaon, and moved on to Jama Masjid. A very simple yet grand structure with very colourful surroundings, we climbed to the top for a view of old delhi. Thousands of homes in yellow, green, red, maroon, chawl type, with small lanes in between them, just like Bombay's slums seen from the top of my building. Just more colourful, and with chawls replacing the shanties. Very glary, goddy and nice. Gives a feel to the city. Have you seen the Pink city from the top of the fort there? Just like that, with everything of a different colour. Brilliant.
Buying small balls which inflate on immersing in water, moved on cycle rickshaw towards the metro, and I was shocked. Exactly like the one seen in Germany. Exact. Couldn't comprehend my feelings. I was taken aback of what India was upto here, how advanced it has become or at least is on its way to the same, and at the same time, filled with shame and disgust as to the sight of local Virar trains in my mind, lack of even a similar trial there for the travel of 5 million people, in the financial capital of a country, where the political capital is enjoying such privileges never seen anywhere in the subcontinent. Maybe such are national dearies. Unable to control my anger, I have to project the facts once again, repeated so many times, but yet since rediscovering something by yourself that someone else has pointed out has its own pleasure. 40 % of national capital arises from Bombay, while Delhi accounts to about 5 %, while the facilities provided in Delhi, the roads, Metro, Spaces, Parks, dignity, is far above what should be expected by a normal Delhiite. Maybe this is the difference between expectation from a capitalistic point of view and the Delhi mindset, the more cultured, more relaxed, calm, composed, with an air of self-pride and non-materialistic way of life. Bombay lacks what is the meaning of a slow, peaceful, coming home taking family for a paan, talking of a teenagers outing and maintaining a distance interaction. Even the most hep children touching their parents feet every morning as a pranaam, it is really different. Can't imagine doing that at my place, I would laugh at myself while doing it. Its just made us that way.
Continued our expedition to the Delhi University but no luck, vacations going on, so we just sat up at a local earing seller and we started chatting ourselves to glory. He was surprisingly very friendly with us, once we got interested in his items. We had chay-sutta with him, and bot 200 bux worth of crap wear. :D
Then we moved to Kamala Market, 2 km walk, and bought nothing. Just looked around for bird watching. Decided to take an auto finally, however inordinate amount of money it took. Being back, I feel satisfied as to see Delhi.
Very different, not very simple to navigate due to its circly shape, (not like bombay, 2 straight lines of railway), people being one single minded - capitalistic, and very helpful because everybody knows it not possible to survive without each others' help here, be it local or safety during night, or a local daru khana. Most of you might have realized what I'm trying to say from this not so well explained piece of blog. Anwyays, Delhi is a nice place to be and stay for long.
But not for Bombayites. We are too used to this fast non family materialistic moving lifestyle with an urge to get more and more and more. But then, More is More is More. (A Rose is a Rose is a Rose?)
Reaching Vibhu's kothi, a perfect place to be out of the city, with a 2500 sq.ft. apartment, in a locality like Shivaji Park. Roads so wide they could fit 3 buses going one way itself. Public so less in number on spaces so empty, it feels like Jamnagar. A town with noone interested in earning money. No one running so fast so as to leave a breath. Everyone is so calm, composed, waiting non-eagerly for the next bus, walking down the lane, continuing the lanes of their lives with such well known ignorance, so deep felt knowledge of the so perfect living conditions, satisfied.
Desires and ambitions are but a farce here. Its all integrated in the whole thinking. Having roamed around Palika, realized the difference of salesmanship and capitalistic structure. While in Bombay, store handlers would attract customers with such force, but be inviting. They would succumb to the customers satisfaction of being right, believing the customer is always right. Here its not the case. The pride of running a store, the self respect of being right, and the right to sell a thing for he/she chooses it for, is more important. Can't judge either. Each has its own charm. Capitalism v/s Dignity.
Being drunk at a SP watching India beat Pakistan to a target of 300, felt good. Reaching home felt bad. Not because it was home, but it was past 12. Aunty was angry. And it was not different as happens with my Mom in Bombay. So some things are the same in both the cities. :)
Had met Vibhu's cousin, the jugadumax banda. Knows all the optimal paths around here, the best bars, the best ice creams, best buys from any shopping place, and everything possible in a city. Cute yet street smart.
Girls. Heard that Delhi girls are hot, hotter than the ones in Bombay, contrary to my experience. We visited entire Delhi, well almost, I couldn't visit any mall (Yes, i know missed the hotspots)
We landed at Chandni Chowk traveling in the local bus + auto, and landed in somewhere very synergetic. Its a mixture of everything possible. Cosmopolitan. Stood beside the Red Fort, overlooking the Jain Derasar, roamed around to see the cloth merchants and kirane type shops, past a Baptist Church. Visited the Gurudwara of Sri Tej Bahadur's Martyrdom. First time ever.
Felt good. Haldirams was just fantastic. The best various types of sweets are showcased so beautifully.
We bought a smoke extension type of a hukka, for 10 bux. Its awsum. Cancelled my date at gurgaon, and moved on to Jama Masjid. A very simple yet grand structure with very colourful surroundings, we climbed to the top for a view of old delhi. Thousands of homes in yellow, green, red, maroon, chawl type, with small lanes in between them, just like Bombay's slums seen from the top of my building. Just more colourful, and with chawls replacing the shanties. Very glary, goddy and nice. Gives a feel to the city. Have you seen the Pink city from the top of the fort there? Just like that, with everything of a different colour. Brilliant.
Buying small balls which inflate on immersing in water, moved on cycle rickshaw towards the metro, and I was shocked. Exactly like the one seen in Germany. Exact. Couldn't comprehend my feelings. I was taken aback of what India was upto here, how advanced it has become or at least is on its way to the same, and at the same time, filled with shame and disgust as to the sight of local Virar trains in my mind, lack of even a similar trial there for the travel of 5 million people, in the financial capital of a country, where the political capital is enjoying such privileges never seen anywhere in the subcontinent. Maybe such are national dearies. Unable to control my anger, I have to project the facts once again, repeated so many times, but yet since rediscovering something by yourself that someone else has pointed out has its own pleasure. 40 % of national capital arises from Bombay, while Delhi accounts to about 5 %, while the facilities provided in Delhi, the roads, Metro, Spaces, Parks, dignity, is far above what should be expected by a normal Delhiite. Maybe this is the difference between expectation from a capitalistic point of view and the Delhi mindset, the more cultured, more relaxed, calm, composed, with an air of self-pride and non-materialistic way of life. Bombay lacks what is the meaning of a slow, peaceful, coming home taking family for a paan, talking of a teenagers outing and maintaining a distance interaction. Even the most hep children touching their parents feet every morning as a pranaam, it is really different. Can't imagine doing that at my place, I would laugh at myself while doing it. Its just made us that way.
Continued our expedition to the Delhi University but no luck, vacations going on, so we just sat up at a local earing seller and we started chatting ourselves to glory. He was surprisingly very friendly with us, once we got interested in his items. We had chay-sutta with him, and bot 200 bux worth of crap wear. :D
Then we moved to Kamala Market, 2 km walk, and bought nothing. Just looked around for bird watching. Decided to take an auto finally, however inordinate amount of money it took. Being back, I feel satisfied as to see Delhi.
Very different, not very simple to navigate due to its circly shape, (not like bombay, 2 straight lines of railway), people being one single minded - capitalistic, and very helpful because everybody knows it not possible to survive without each others' help here, be it local or safety during night, or a local daru khana. Most of you might have realized what I'm trying to say from this not so well explained piece of blog. Anwyays, Delhi is a nice place to be and stay for long.
But not for Bombayites. We are too used to this fast non family materialistic moving lifestyle with an urge to get more and more and more. But then, More is More is More. (A Rose is a Rose is a Rose?)
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Colors
Once again, I return to my obsession with colours.
The soothing effect of white, when chosen as a background, just like the last scene of the movie Black. Transcends space to a meadow, butterflies playing with each other, birds flying in a pattern, and the grass wetting my feet, drowsing me in the lightness of nothingness.
Black. Sultry. Slick. Sexy. Sharp. Eye Catcher. A sexy chick wearing an evening gown, with her black hair falling on her shoulders, with the perfect walk and a smile which is not too happy, and not too expressionless. Just the perfect attitude for you. And me. The grace of a guy walking in his gucci blazer, just having alighted from a black porsche, with his black cellfone, and straight hair like the in 'I like the way you move'. A black screen, in the middle of the night, showing such glimpses. The darkness captured. The shadow of a person you were expecting since an hour. Black Nike shoes. A black Del.
Azure skies. Blues that you get caught up in. Blues that you always wear. The commonness of the favouritism by major teenagers. The smart chick in a blue top and denims, walking with her busy look, avoiding to look at the onlookers. The cuteness of a kid in a denim jacket. The Superman attire. The happy colour. Youthful, casual and trendy. The safest colour to choose when you are confused. It just works.
Green. Speaks more than blue. A tad more enterprising. Sexier. Cooler. Makes you sense a cool breeze over a lawn. Freshens up spirits. Pleasant. Might become dull at times, though.
But my favourite is still red.
The soothing effect of white, when chosen as a background, just like the last scene of the movie Black. Transcends space to a meadow, butterflies playing with each other, birds flying in a pattern, and the grass wetting my feet, drowsing me in the lightness of nothingness.
Black. Sultry. Slick. Sexy. Sharp. Eye Catcher. A sexy chick wearing an evening gown, with her black hair falling on her shoulders, with the perfect walk and a smile which is not too happy, and not too expressionless. Just the perfect attitude for you. And me. The grace of a guy walking in his gucci blazer, just having alighted from a black porsche, with his black cellfone, and straight hair like the in 'I like the way you move'. A black screen, in the middle of the night, showing such glimpses. The darkness captured. The shadow of a person you were expecting since an hour. Black Nike shoes. A black Del.
Azure skies. Blues that you get caught up in. Blues that you always wear. The commonness of the favouritism by major teenagers. The smart chick in a blue top and denims, walking with her busy look, avoiding to look at the onlookers. The cuteness of a kid in a denim jacket. The Superman attire. The happy colour. Youthful, casual and trendy. The safest colour to choose when you are confused. It just works.
Green. Speaks more than blue. A tad more enterprising. Sexier. Cooler. Makes you sense a cool breeze over a lawn. Freshens up spirits. Pleasant. Might become dull at times, though.
But my favourite is still red.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Into the Wild
Long nights allow me to feel..am falling ..am falling..
safely to the ground..
A very insightful movie. A very real account. People with tipped heads would understand. Would cry. Would emphathize. Would be ashamed. Would be sorry. Would be falling.
Alex, known by his right name - Chris.
The dialogues speak for themselves:
1. I'm going to paraphrase Thoreau here... rather than love, than money, than faith, than fame, than fairness... give me truth.
2. I read somewhere... how important it is in life not necessarily to be strong... but to feel strong.
3. Mr. Franz I think careers are a 20th century invention and I don't want one.
4. Society, man! You know, society! Cause, you know what I don't understand? I don't understand why people, why every fucking person is so bad to each other so fucking often. It doesn't make sense to me. Judgment. Control. All that, the whole spectrum. Well, it just...
5. If we admit that human life can be ruled by reason, then all possibility of life is destroyed.
6. The freedom and simple beauty is too good to pass up...
Eddie has done a tremendous job. He is made for this. His voice, with the lyrics as they are, true with the spirit of Chris, and his motion through life, his growth, every phase depicted so lucidly, so heartily.
A beautiful movie in all its parts.
A very honest movie. One of those kind, which are straight from the heart.
Have to mention of Long nights.
Have no fear
For when I'm alone
I'll be better off than I was before
I've got this light
I'll be around to grow
Who I was before
I cannot recall
Long nights allow me to feel...
I'm falling...I am falling
The lights go out
Let me feel
I'm falling
I am falling safely to the ground
Ah...
I'll take this soul that's inside me now
Like a brand new friend
I'll forever know
I've got this light
And the will to show
I will always be better than before
Long nights allow me to feel...
I'm falling...I am falling
The lights go out
Let me feel
I'm falling
I am falling safely to the ground.
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Red!
This is truly dedicated to Orhan Pamuk, for his book 'My Name is Red'. I just loved the book. Loved it. The style, reminds me of a line by Guy Maupassant in one of his essays, ' Taking a line for a walk'.
Strength. It signifies a force, so strong that it penetrates straight from my eye into the brain. It stares at me. Generates a feeling that something is there. And it won't budge. However hard I try to look away, it cannot escape the eye.
It signifies danger, blood. Am hemophobic. Scared of blood. I just dip unconscious at the sight of blood.
It signifies danger, blood. Am hemophobic. Scared of blood. I just dip unconscious at the sight of blood.
It brings back Naruto. The Nine Tailed Red Fox inside him. Always, fighting to get control over him. And he fights, so hard that you get to sympathize with him for having such a fate.
Red, is the color for courage, strength and pioneering spirit. It instigates a strong will, a confident and spontaneous quality.
Red is energizing and excites the emotions, and can stimulate the appetite, hence often used in restaurants. It can be used in any activity area but red needs careful choice of tone and depth and the space in which it is to be used as it can make a space look smaller and can be claustrophobic or oppressive. However, used well, red and its variations, can make a space feel warm and cozy.
Red repersents vibrancy. Energy. Chakra. Totally Upbeat personality. Always on your toes, moving, Jab We Met ki Kareena. Never sad. The thing called morale.. Red is dhinch. Its Gujju.
Bindaas. That defines Red. You just love yourself, when you are Red. I want to be red. I want everyone to be Red. It would be such a beautiful world, if everyone would be red. Red Is bold.
Red-blooded is someone who is audacious, robust, virile.
The color of a bride's dress. Of a Tilak. Sindhoor.
Gulal. The color of Holi. Festival of Happiness and Celebration.
However, in the most negative aspect, it is the color of anger, violence and brutality, dominating and stubbornness. Red is associated with lust, passion and beauty. It is used as a symbol of guilt or sin, often as connected with blood or sex. Red is associated with brothels (red-light districts). Red represents the deadly sin wrath. Satan is usually depicted as colored red.
Bright. On the psycho-spiritual level, it relates to self awareness. That is to say our awareness of ourselves as human beings and our place on earth. Relates to our basic human instincts of fighting. Red gives us courage and strength. The color relates to stability and security. When am out of mood, I like to remember this color and get inspired of the spirit which we are embodied of, to face challenges, learning to fight against all odds, its a battle. Of me against myself. And I have to win. Just like Luhrmann's sunscreen - 'In the end, the race is with yourself'
Red is Love. For all the above reasons.
Saturday, February 02, 2008
Look! He's not smoking!
I had tried avoiding it for 2 years in IIT, but in the third year succumbed to it. Comeon, who can't be impressed by the coolness associated with it? With quotes like 'If you give up smoking, drinking and loving, you don't live any longer, it just seems longer.' One may say it was my choice to smoke.
What concerns me in this article is how early students have started smoking now. There was a sense of shame if in my first year I brought home a pack of ciggis, I would be scared to hell by seniors; now its a matter of pride to smoke in the corridors. Smoke before brushing has turned out to be essential for the early morning chores.
The trend in IIT has gone from bad to worse in terms of the highness required at any point of life, be it a wing treat, or a batch outing. Alcohol and smoke go hand in hand now a days. And there are no barries between juniors and seniors now.
Earlier, we used to avoid smoking with seniors, which is not the case now. In the craze, being a sensible and strong willed person, an iitian thinks he will never get addicted. He will try out the pleasure of smoking for a while and leave it for good. Coming from a lecture directly to Staff C, smoking away in glory with the sutta gang, is just an ordeal repeated everyday, where you gather information about the lectures, campus gossip, happenings, 'jugaads'. Attending meetings for the various organisational bodies at Shack, having the lovely morning snack at Kresit, now the juice at Bhavani, or the famous chay at Mahendar bhai (main gate) is inevitably accompanied with smoke flying off. The sutta brotherhood forms as soon as one is lighted, and the 'discussion' begins. A person who doesn't smoke obviously feels out of place among 5 of his smoker friends. He might venture for a cigarette just to be a part of the group. He continues smoking for a week wih just one ciggi a day, and he is roped in forever. The craving begins, and he walks all the way to staff c for one, gathering
those dificult Rs. 4 from his wing. It surely is a sight.
And when they can't get up in the morning without a cigarette, the reality
of addiction sets in.
Once while making fun of the whole habit, we were discussing how disgusting this habit has become and how addicted we all are (contrary to our earlier beliefs that we could never be addicted and we carry a will stronger than Skywalker), we realised that we smoked without sense or reason. Smoke before lunch, after lunch, before lectures, after lectures, before an exam, after an exam, with a chay, without a chay, in times of stress, in times of idleness, being happy, being sad, being with friends, being alone, blah blah.. Thats when I realised I hadn't learnt the art to smoke. I had become a chain smoker. A couple of packs a day was ruining my health, I was staying depressed all the while, was hardly socialising, sleeping off throughout, feeling drowsy all the time, and moreover not even growing. Not that I was using smoke to complete some stressful work like study for exams or complete assignments or stay awake for good.
We keep puffing away every waking moment of their lives without even noticing it. we grab a quick smoke in a hurry, we smoke when we are bored, we smoke while talking, while working, while doing something - smoking and multitasking: We smoke unconsciously, cigarette after cigarette, without even realizing it. Is it worth it?
I decided. Whenever I feel like smoking I shall stop everything and prepare myself for a 'meditative' smoke. Go to some quiet place where I can sit undisturbed, alone. Yes I must be alone. And when I do smoke, I shall only smoke – no multitasking. No more smoking with friends,with tea or coffee, no more smoking in the 'pyaara gang' feeling a guilt conscience that non-smokers don't like it, no more hurried puffs, no more mindless unconscious smoking. Only meditative, mindful, conscious smoking in glorious solitude, maintaining inner calm and tranquility, and total awareness.
I followed this religiously, and soon I discover that the number of cigarettes required to satisfy me have drastically reduced to a couple a day. My striving for quitting completely is going on. In the real world, (i.e. outside the campus), its gradually becoming cool not to smoke. In the object oriented lives with ambitions at stake, everyone is realizing the effect of smoking on the efficiency and lifestyle. Passive hazards are well known.
Many of us smokers sincerely want to quit. We know cigarettes threaten our health, annoy our acquaintances and cost an inordinate amount of money. It increases anxiety, decreases mental strength, leads to drowsiness and exhausts all the energy. Just find your non-smoking wingmate and compare his energy levels to yours, or just try to run to main gate and back, and you
will get my point.
Nobody can force a smoker to quit. It requires a personal commitment by the smoker. What kind of smoker are you? What do you get out of smoking? What does it do for you? It is important to identify what you use smoking for and what kind of satisfaction you feel that you are getting from smoking.
Many smokers use the cigarette as a kind of crutch in moments of stress or discomfort, and on occasion it may work; the cigarette is sometimes used as a tranquilizer. But the heavy smoker, the person who tries to handle severe personal problems by smoking heavily all day long, is apt to discover that cigarettes do not help him/her deal with his/her problems effectively.
When it comes to quitting, this kind of smoker may find it easy to stop when everything is going well, but may be tempted to start again in a time of crisis. Physical exertion, eating, drinking, or social activity in moderation may serve as useful substitutes for cigarettes, even in times of tension. The choice of a substitute depends on what will achieve the
same effects without having any appreciable risk.
Once a smoker understands his/her own smoking behavior, he will be able to cope more successfully and select the best quitting approaches for himself/herself and the type of life-style he leads.
Quitting smoking not only extends the ex-smoker's life, but adds new happiness and meaning to one's current life. Most smokers state that immediately after they quit smoking, they start noticing dramatic differences in their overall health and vitality. Also, while quitting take due care of the withdrawl symptoms by taking proper medication (Yes,
there exists such a thing!), or you might be ill for days on end.
Not just these two-smoking and drinking, there are always the extra strong substances to get 'highmax',
'Why drink and drive, when you can dope and fly..' The desire for feeling psychadelia or hallucinations, is a risky affair, and is increasingly handled frivolously among juniors, new entrants in the wing just to get along the 'so called cool seniors' or some bigtime 'rockers'. IIT has always has had students with such attitudes, with the kind of freedom provided in hostels, as well as outside.
The particular harm done by the organic ones is short term for a span of hours which fades out, but the chemicals might lead to affecting the psyche.
Unfortunately for all those stoners and drinkers out there, most brain cells don't regenerate. Illegal substances kill some of the nerve cells, thus decreasing the life span. It is observed that starting with the idea of 'trying everything out in life', in most cases leads to repeated doses. Although its a personal choice, it is better to know the ill effects of anything before trying it out. Frankly, trying it just to be involved in a wing treat or job treat is stupid. It just doesn't end there. 'You can check out any time you like, but you can never leave'.
Finally, my love for smoke:
'I phoned my dad to say I had stopped smoking. He called me a quitter.' :)
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