Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts

Daily Family Prayer !

A family that prays together stays together. I don't think any sane soul will disagree with this statement. The only argument would be whether the big deal is really about 'prayer' or 'togetherness'. There are folks who argue that replacing 'pray' with 'bray' would invariably bring in the same positive results, as long as 'together' stays put. But there are others who vouch for 'prayer' being the key element, together or not.

Daily prayer for some, is a tool to touch base, interact with, and source energy from the divine. Ritual implementation of the same is expected to bring in blessings or benefits from a higher force; in this world or the other. For others it is an exercise that brings the family together, keeping the members focused on a common activity for a while, thereby bringing in synchronization and unity.

Actually daily prayer is an activity which both the parties can partake without any real conflict of interests. It is akin to two people engaging in a game of badminton, but for different reasons - one as a means of entertainment while the other as a mechanism for weight loss. We cannot argue that one of them enjoys the game more than the other, due to this varied approach and expectations; nor is one of them 'the right way' with respect to the game.

Benefits of doing things together have been researched and re-researched by folks for decades together, and there is no dearth of data substantiating the same. Most of us do follow these findings one way or other in our daily life as well. Why else do students and teams wear uniforms? Why do soldiers march, and not just walk from place to place? All these gimmicks - similar color or behavior so to speak - are mere tools to trick our brain into the feeling of togetherness and the comfort that comes with it.

Why would someone ever come up with weird associations or explanations like this? Peaceful coexistence, I say. Try getting married for a start! :)

The Deutsche Philharmonie Merck














Another item ticked off my Bucket List. Watched a symphony live - The Deutsche Philharmonie Merck - at Chowdaiah Hall. 60 minutes of sheer musical brilliance!
Though I hadn't even heard before any of the pieces except two, they were all quite enthralling. Of the two I recognized, one was Brahms' Hungarian dance while I couldn't quite place the other one. The revelation of the day was "Leonore Overture No 3" by Beethoven. (I found out this later from the press release). Was quite an evening and the hall was crowded with people standing on either sides and even sitting in the aisle. Good that we got the passes (thanks to Sunil) and managed to reach the venue quite early to grab some seats!

My Experiences with Ruth - 2


Ruth: Raindrops and roses and whiskers of kittens...
Me: Aahaa!

Ruth: Bright colored kettles and warm woolen mittens..
Me: Wow!

Ruth: Brown paper packages tied up with strings..
Me: mmm...

Ruth: These are a few of my favorite things.. What do you like?
Me: Egg Fried Rice

The End!

My Experiences with Ruth - 1














So we walk up to this place and sit down to eat.
I try to make meaningful conversation.
And meaningful it turned out to be!

Ruth: Are you alright sweetheart?
Me: I think so, pumpkin.
(yes.. pumpkin, the most romantic of all fruits!)

Ruth: Making others happy makes me happy.
Me: Fried chicken makes me happy.
(so thoughtful and profound..)

Ruth: I don't get sleep when I am either too sad or too happy.
Me: I don't get sleep when it's too hot or when there are mosquitoes.
(she quivers a bit, but sits through the dinner)

Moral of the story - My brain and mouth cannot work sensibly at the same time.

Or perhaps..

For the fourth consecutive day she was standing there. I was on my way back from work. She was at the exact same spot, by the traffic island, leaning on to the rails and staring at the setting sun. The same expressionless face, the same shabby clothes and perhaps the same set of flies for company. The long hair falling on to her face could not fully hide the bruises. She was mumbling something to that invisible friend of hers every time I saw her.

Should I thank HIM for putting her there instead of me?
Or should I be questioning HIS rationale in playing with human lives?
Or attribute all this to chance?
Or perhaps she was different once..... and it is just us?

Violins for peace..

2011 is already on a song. Its hardly a week into it and I have already attended a concert and has another three scheduled over the next one month or so! Don't think I can complain even in my worst nightmares. Apart from the Bryan Adams one in Feb, every other looks pretty offbeat and interesting as well. 'Violins for Peace' last Thursday wasn't any different either. It was this year's edition of the Lakshminarayana Global Music Festival(LGMF) featuring violinists and fiddlers from different parts of the world. LGMF is organised by Dr. L Subramaniam in the memory of his father and Guru Prof. Lakshminarayana.

I reached the venue just in time and wasn't surprised to see that the hall is packed and the organizers had ran out of passes. There were quite a few people waiting outside the entrance, including some very elderly folks. After some persuasion, the organizers finally allowed us to enter and occupy the floor. This seating arrangement was in fact much comfortable than the chairs, as I could stretch my legs and lean on to the wall. The only trouble was that I couldn't see one half of the stage for quite some time as there were people standing around blocking the view. But the experience was well worth the trouble!

- There was an old lady (must be in her eighties) sitting next to me, wearing a fine silk Saree, holding a walking stick in one hand and tapping enthusiastically to the tunes of the Russian gypsy music much like she did for the Carnatic classical songs. Though she gave me the looks initially when I sat beside her on the floor in my jeans and black T Shirt, she was all smiles by the end of the concert.

- The start attraction of the evening was the Russian gypsy band 'Loyko', who entertained the crowd with their fast fiddling and vocals. They could literally make the violins laugh as part of this comedy act they performed between songs.

- Ambi Subramaniam's violin recital of 'Varumo Sakhi' in raaga Keeravani was just brilliant.

- The Norwegian folk songs played by Benedicte, with the accompanied dancing reminded me of 'Pulluvan Paattu', an art form prevalent in Kerala , performed to appease the snake gods.

- There was this minister who was invited as chief guest, who made an ass of himself by announcing cash prizes for the artists every time he was invited on stage. For him this was yet another opportunity to show off or perhaps he was sure that they will never turn up in front of his office demanding the money!

- Something should be done about the people who occupy seats and leave after 10 minutes. These idiots come, buy tickets, parade outside the venue in their designer clothes and walk out by the time the artists are done with the tuning. If you are not really interested why waste a ticket dude?

- And I don't want to comment on those who wear sun glasses during an indoor concert at 7 in the evening.

- There were also performances by Grammy winner jazz violinist Mark O'Connor, classical violinist Catharina Chen and Algerian violinist Kheir Eddine M'Kachiche

- The grand finale was a composition by Dr. L Balasubramaniam, performed by 7 violinists with the accompaniment of a piano, acoustic guitar, tavil and mridangam.

- Outside the concert hall I found a shop selling 'Melody' toffees. As a kid this used to be my favorite toffee. (it still is). I bought enough to last a few months!

There is a fusion concert by Esperanto and an insane evening with The Prodigy on the cards this month. 2011 is rocking!

Resolutions & Delusions !

Its resolution time again. As I had successfully broken last year's resolutions they were nowhere to be found. Having lost the option of updating the list I wanted them to be actionable and measurable this year. So I decided not to have things like 'Contribute to world peace' and 'campaign for saving cockroaches' from the list. The idea of accountability is a result of the bad company I keep - the clients I interact during work, who root for objectivity and quantitative measurements.

The primary resolution for this year is to eat something other than Poori for breakfast. I have been eating poori every day for the past 6 months or so, except on Sundays and Public holidays when the shop is closed. This is in fact the only remaining link I have with discipline and consistency, after I stopped ritualistic whining a few years ago. But to hell with discipline, I have to get more creative with breakfast. How am I going to keep my eyes off the tasty pooris on display at the shop is the only challenge... probably I have to give standing orders for breakfast delivery at office.

I want to travel, travel more. I have been trekking the Himalayas once every year and now wants to do it twice this year and three times the next and so on progressively. Apart from the joy of crapping in the snow (and of course the mountains) there is also some strategic planning involved in this decision. I am sure they will kick me out of work when I request for five 15 days vacations few years from now, and that is exactly what I am planning to do. I have plans to quit 'work as I know it' and go farming in another 6-7 years. 'Got kicked out of office' is a more explainable excuse in such a situation... like 'cannot drive due to Ataxia' is a more acceptable explanation for not owning a vehicle than 'I do not need a vehicle'.

Mend those relationships broken a few years ago when I focused all my attention on this one individual. I thought the only road to Rome is via Afghanistan and had burned the other route maps. I am a late learner and it took me a while to realize not to make those your priority, for whom you are just an option! The learning was relatively quick considering the fact that I learned the virtues of brushing-teeth-twice-a-day almost after 28 years. That too after the doctor pulled out two of my molars for being 'beyond repair'. what to do, I am big on visual confirmations and convictions. I think all bridges can be repaired as long as there is water flowing underneath it.

Nothing more, nothing less.. its just a three point agenda. Now I only need to wait and see how soon I break these ones and they all end up as mere delusions.

On a different note, saw this posting on a cricket discussion forum - Got to disagree with Mathew Hayden when he said 'I have seen god, he bats at No: 4 for India'. for what has god done to be called Sachin ??. It is perhaps time for the master blaster to change his name to 'Ton'dulker!

The Great Indian inter-faith marriage !

My sister got married recently. An otherwise happy and benign occasion unfortunately got branded an 'evil affair' by some folks, as she chose to marry someone from another faith. The situation necessitated me taking the official spokesperson's role on behalf of the immediate family. Though my job started on a scary note, it became increasingly interesting a role, as I learned not to reason or argue but listen and nod instead. The ones who called me to offer condolences though did get a sermon for free.

As the drama slowly unfolded, everyone including the neighbor's cow had an opinion. A lot of relatives whom I had classified as hardliners turned out to be moderates while those who were considered liberals turned out to be Ayatollah Khomenis. Though no fatwas were declared, each one of these funny characters did try their best to influence the situation and elicit a favorable outcome out of it. I know I cannot point fingers at the septuagenarians and sexagenarians of the lot; it is difficult to change your convictions and beliefs after walking the earth for more than half a century. But I was taken by surprise with the reaction of some of the more-educated, younger folks... many of which I completely understood later on further scrutiny!

The priests and nuns in the family (yes, we too have our share of them) were the most upset of the lot; understandably so. For them it is important to hold on, proclaim and protect the faith; else how can they justify all the sacrifices they have made in the name of it. For someone who has submitted their entire life for religion, any attempt to rock the boat is a threat to their very existence. So when they advised the parents to renounce their daughter as she walk away from THE God and THE Path, I could only smile. Some of them had clever ways of putting across the point. One of the nun-aunts called my sister, congratulated her on the marriage and appreciated her on the choice as well. While my sister was trying to come in terms with the unexpected compliments, my aunt quietly threw in a Trojan - 'This is an opportunity for you to get an entire family to know Jesus Christ'. Hallelujah!

Another acquaintance came home to 'educate' my parents on how their decision to let my sister marry an 'outsider' is against THE book. She had also brought with her a propaganda pamphlet on the evils of inter-faith marriage, written by some self proclaimed spiritual leader of the church. This book had excerpts from the Bible, occasions when it talk about the consequences of marrying from outside the Israel community. The gentleman who wrote this booklet had quoted from the Bible without explaining the context and had carefully omitted passages that go against his argument. I enjoyed telling this acquaintance, the story of God supporting the decision of Moses in marrying a non-Israelite woman (Numbers, Chapter 12). That kind of settled the issue at least for then. I wrote a letter to the priest who wrote the booklet about his work, but haven't received a reply yet; not that I expected one.

There were a few others who stayed away for another interesting reason. They didn't want their kids to think that the resistance from family is just a matter of few days, and things will be alright after that. What if the kids pick up a cue and follow suit? So they wanted the family to disown my sister, so that 'other kids in the family' don't make an example of this and choose their life partners outside the faith. Nice try..eh..?

In a generation where people are already fighting each other in the name of religion, I don't think this mentality helps. We create a divide among kids when they are young, by preaching they are a superior race, God's chosen people etc. Then how do we expect them to coexist and co-operate later in life, with the so called lesser mortals? We don't realize that these kind of fanatic teachings at a young age have lasting effect on their impressionable minds, often critically affecting their future decision making.

Pop stories !

I happened to hear two Pop and Son stories the past week. They weren't really funny, but interesting.

One story is about a Dad, who during one of those knowledge transfer sessions advised sonny boy to keep his tail folded nicely between his legs, tightly wrapped around and protecting the balls, instead of keeping it upright at the face of the world. He wanted the son to take the shortest routes in life than shooting for the longer but cleaner ones. He probably did not want to see his beloved son being stoned by the angry majority as he makes his sermon from the mount, against the so called absurdities of the world. I would have understood the intentions of such an advice if given to some bad ass who joined Greenpeace or campaigned for world peace. But all that he ever did in life was questioning some priests. And anyone who has ever walked into a place of worship, except to escape the rain, would understand this behavior.

I am not sure it is the right thing to sit back and blame the generation for its Lady Gaga culture and not provide real support when it matters.

And there is this other story where the son begs the father to come and stay with him, only to take care of the new addition to the family. The son is annoyed that his parents devoted two years raising his sister's kid, but refused to volunteer for the same profile when it was his turn. Pretty logical..eh? Can't blame him for thinking that he could use the experience they had in raising a bum like him. So he had an argument on the need of him getting his share of their time, while he and his wife could go about making some more money.

Who am I to pass comments on other people's lives anyway!

Stories from friends !

Some of us friends from college had a get-together the other day. After the initial pleasantries, as expected, everyone started talking about those 'good old days'. How two guys were kicked out for preparing tea in the Chemistry laboratory using a burner and the measuring jar, during one of the Practical sessions. How someone was caught writing sexually explicit poetry in the examination hall,and his explanation for the same - free paper and better utilization of time. How twelve guys from one class participated in the Fashion Contest, wearing the same dress (read 'cloak') made of worn out curtain cloth. How some of the relationships of those days got pushed deep down to the basement of life as we all moved on. Everything looked funny and beautiful as we craned our necks and looked back.

It is ironic that we all wanted to get out of this 'fun place' as early as possible, to grab the opportunities outside. Those days, nirvana was all about getting a job and enjoying life thereafter. We were more like dogs chasing cars.. wanted to chase and conquer life, but hardly had a clue on what to do with life once we get hold of it. Now with secure jobs and considerable 'disposable income' in hand, we felt we were better off in college, chasing dreams. As the booze settled in, discussions moved on to more hilarious topics leaving the dissatisfaction and frustrations alone. Nothing helps getting over own disgusted feelings than finding the same in others around you. No two of us share the same workplace and hence everyone brought a different set of stories to the table. Here are a few.

How do you survive in the courtroom as a relatively new Advocate? A dear friend vouches that non-verbal communication can make or break your case in the courtroom. The following are two of his favorite tricks.

- When the case is going against you, gently tap the left side of your chest, right over the pocket, and plead "Have properly instructed sir!". The actual message conveyed here is 'I have been paid in advance for this case which will forcibly be taken away if the ruling is against my party. So please have mercy'.

- If the first trick doesn't work and the judge denies your motion, try this. Move your right hand from over the pocket and draw concentric circles on your stomach with your stretched palm, saying "But, there is provision my lord". The message conveyed through this seemingly innocent action is something like "It is a matter of daily bread my lord; I am totally dependent on this case's fee for survival."

Now here is a story told by another friend, about the youth wing leader of a political party, who might one day sit on a legislator's chair and rule over you and me.

One day our hero sets out to collect some money for party fund with his entourage. The donor is an elderly Muslim gentleman, who is a local administrator of the 'Non Resident Indians Association'. After accepting the handsome amount, the leader breaks into a well rehearsed monologue, highlighting his commitment towards social service. He then contrasts it with the current generation's disinterest in History and culture. Things were looking good and the Muslim gentleman was quite absorbed by the speech. Then like an unexpected fart, the leader switched topics and remarked, "Looks like that dark patch on your forehead has grown bigger than the last time we met". Before the stunned entourage could stop him, he continued, "I know a skin specialist near my house, if you want I can talk to him".

Before the gentleman could react, the followers somehow managed to drag their leader out of his arm's reach. So much for his interest in history & culture!

Hospitals aren't fun!

Going to the hospital is one of the most intimidating situations for me, unless its the dentist we are talking about. Don't know whether its the idea, the ambiance, the smell or the situation that's the real culprit, but its quite an ordeal. So you can imagine the effect as I walked into the waiting room of the Regional Oncology Research Center, joining a sea of people who are hanging on to the last straw of hope, considering the nature of the beast. But the situation was much different from what I expected. Though there were people trying hard to conceal the visible effects of the condition or its treatment, the mood was generally upbeat. I don't remember seeing a larger group of compassionate, sensitive and smiling people anywhere else.

As if taking the messages conveyed by the inspirational posters to their heart, I found people were generally in an optimistic frame of mind. Unlike other hospital scenes I have been part of, I did not hear anyone yelling, shouting or even raising the voices here. Everyone behaved like a bunch of well trained nursery kids. There were 9 year olds to 90 year olds, all in the same boat. Everyone talked to each other. There was no introductions required as if some kind of camaraderie evolved out of the shared situation. It was interesting that nobody even asks why you are there.. everyone seems to know. If you are an observer, then you might not be able to relate to any of the strange behavior that's happening around. You just look at the display screens, wonder why they call out the age of patients with their name and so on. But when you are one amongst the many who await the turn, everything makes super sense. You can almost see the whole process working relentlessly and without fault like a well oiled piece of machinery.

There is only one place that is more intimidating than the waiting room - the doctor's cabin. Anyone who sits inside for a few minutes with his eyes and ears open, will come out with a heavy heart and modified world views. I think that's enlightenment of the best kind...the one that's born out of conviction mixed with an overdose of reality. As I sat there watching the doctors in action, I realized the real meaning of 'transiency', 'mortality' and 'fear'. I saw a person whose mouth opens into his nasal cavity as the pallet was missing... rather removed. I sat there picturing his nasal septum fluttering left and right with every breath he takes. At the end of the consultation I could hear this inevitable question being asked to every patient about their preference - RT or surgery, as if you are given a choice between Gold & Platinum!

I take a walk when I get disturbed, and I did the same here. To my amusement I saw some billboards promoting an exclusive showroom for condoms, 'Planet Moods'. I think this is the height of choice. I am not sure whether people go to an exclusive showroom to buy condoms. Imagine someone walking into the condom shop looking for a khadi condom to celebrate Gandhi's birthday, a tricolor condom to celebrate the Independence day or a ventilated condom to beat the heat. I wonder!

Another Onam !

You and I have memories longer than the road that stretches out ahead.. The Beatles

Onam had a very special place in life as a kid. Those ten days of freedom from school and studies were much anticipated. There were too many attractions - the swing, the early morning rush to pluck the flowers, the delicacies from all neighboring houses, the floral decorations and the general festive atmosphere. After the monsoon, every shrub and weed around the house had a bright colored flower at the end of every branch. I always wanted to keep that tradition alive, just to get a feel of the season and the excitement associated with it.

I was happy to get up today morning and go out searching for flowers with my sisters. It was drizzling, monsoon doesn't keep the schedule these days it seems. The Marsh Marigold patch was still there along the river. Apart from that there were very few flowers around the house. Lantana, one of the most abundant flowers during the season was not to be seen anywhere. The Morning Glory had just two flowers on it. Looks like most of the plants have deferred their flowering season to avoid their precious seeds being destroyed. Perhaps its evolution and natural selection in play, or perhaps I am reading too much into 'The Origin' these days.

The floral decoration is done, I am happy that we did not break the tradition. Its raining outside, nothing much to do than savor the delicacies... What a way to start a week!

The Men Who Stare at Goats

I should have gone ahead and sacrificed that goat the last time I had a bad experience during travel. Or when misfortune struck many times before that. But I just made fun of Hermes, boasted that there is no God of travel; that even if there is one he is busy picking on his opponents. I was terribly wrong in my assumptions and HE got back at me with vengeance. Looks like I have to put a leash on my blasphemous outbursts.

She looked almost like a female version of Jesus Christ...all the charm minus the mustache and the beard. I was on my way back home after visiting my cousin and she came and sat opposite to me in the bus. She had pink nail polish on, and was wearing a striped T-shirt. Though the horizontal stripes made her look a little chubby, I gave her a 9.5 on 10 in the looks department. As soon as she settled down, she had a gulp of water from the water bottle, stroked a strand of hair off her face and took out a book from her hand bag. I myself was reading 'Almost Like a Whale' and was eager to know what she got. But before I could figure out the title she opened the book and started reading. It is kind of an uncontrollable itch for me, till I find out what the other person is reading... just curiosity. So I kept looking up from my book every now and then, hoping to get a glimpse of the title.

Though I was very discreet in my attempts not to catch her attention, eventually she got wind of my glances. Two fiery eyes rose up from behind the book and directed a beam of deadly laser straight at my face. Then only I noticed that she was resting the book on her well endowed bosom, using it as a book-rest, and I've been constantly staring that way! I realized the blunder and looked apologetically at her. How can you explain a female-in-fury that you were looking at the titles and not at her vitals? I thought she might jump up from her seat and shout at the top of her voice. I had by then closed my eyes in anticipation of her Jesus fingers anointing my cheeks, but she was perhaps the forgiving kind! She shrugged her shoulders in contempt, stood up in a jiffy, and walked away to another empty seat towards the rear of the bus.

She was reading 'The Golden Gate' by Vikram Seth,... not 'The Men Who Stare at Goats'.

Careful what you wish for..

Last night I told a stranger all about you...
He smiled patiently with disbelief
- Morphine : 'In spite of me'

I never thought of writing this story in the first person. I would rather have preferred to hide behind a character and let everyone laugh at the hapless protagonist. But then I thought 'what the heck, I am gonna write it anyway'.

So, is this such a bad story to tell? How do you decide whether something is good or bad? Do you look at its status as on today, and see how the scales are tipped? Or do you take a weighted average of all the ups and downs, all the twists and turns that brought it to this point, and then decide? You can argue both ways... for each his own. After all good and bad are different shadows of the same reality, created by perception and purpose.

I saw this new butterfly in town, as I walked into office that day. She was a chubby, beautiful girl, wearing a sleeveless green salwar kameez, with brown eyes hiding behind thick rimmed glasses, and a generous coat of red lipstick on her full lips. What really captured my attention that day was not her beauty, but her laugh, which started like the engine of a rickshaw, blossoming into something like a lightning. That was it for the first meeting, as she was just a new face who worked with another team on the floor. Months later she told me she too had noticed this arrogant chap who sat there with a 'don't care the world' attitude written all over his face. As I walk to the pantry to pick up coffee every few hours, I used to give a side-wise glance at this new beauty on the floor, nevertheless maintaining the 'don't care' attitude. Frankly, I never cared for any woman in office those days, as music, travel, books and alcohol fascinated me more than anything in the whole wide world then. Looking back, I probably would have never written this, if I had stood ground and not switched tracks, enchanted by the greenery on the other side of the fence!

Women are these amazing creations who are the biggest catalysts of change in a man’s life. Every man is helplessly hooked to the spell of one or another woman all through his life – be it mother, girlfriend, wife, mistress or daughter. One of the stories that always fascinated me as a kid, was that of Helen of Troy, whose beauty could summon a thousand ships and assemble the greatest Greek army the world has ever seen. Stories like these start looking silly, once you let the biggest enigma of all time get a grip on your life.

Days passed and both of us worked hard for the company that paid our salaries, ignorant of each others' existence. But life had other plans. My manager was an expert in spotting talent and accumulating all of it in his own team. So he made sure in due course of time, that all good looking women in the company reported to him. Eventually one day she too joined my team and was allotted the seat next to mine - one of the perks you get for being in the good books of your manager, how much ever an asshole he is. So that’s how 'our story' kind of started! Being in the same team, we started with the Hi, Hello pleasantries and graduated into conversations on more interesting topics over a period of time. I liked this new girl, not sure what exactly made me reach such a decision.

I wrote in my diary one of those days - 'Am I in love? I am not sure because I have never been in love before. But there is definitely something strange going on out there. Be careful what you wish for, you might actually get it and regret it for the rest of your life.'

I used to work in the night shift and had developed the habit of having a tea and a long walk in the middle of the night. One fine day, she offered to accompany me on my midnight outing. So we walked out of the office and had tea by the makeshift tea shop outside the campus. Luke, the dog who used to meet me every day on these outings for a share of my tea, liked her instantly and extended the same reverence and respect to her as well. Luke and I had become close friends over time. He used to accompany me on my walks and see me off at the elevator. Once Luke also approved her, I had no doubt that she is indeed someone special.

'We became fast friends', if I want to concise all that happened over the next few months into a single phrase. We also changed our views on each other. My image of her as another girl who cared more about her looks than anything else, was replaced by the picture of an intelligent girl who was in charge of her own life. Her idea of me as an egoistic bloke-head also mellowed down to something like a harmless, average guy. Though both of us did not immediately acknowledge the change in perceptions, the interactions had grown to a level where we trusted each other.

Then came Friendship day, and I had nothing spectacular to do. So I messaged her asking whether she would care to join me for a Friendship day outing. I was surprised in fact when she replied saying she will meet me at 3 in the evening. For the first time in my life I set out to have an outing with a girl, all alone. We never talked about life or love or friendship that day, instead we were just a couple of kids who were let loose from the confines of their homes for a few hours of fun, away from the watchful eyes of the elders. Needless to say, I had one of the most memorable days of my life.

I was totally in love with her by then. Just that, I never dared to let her know my feelings. I did not want- as the song goes- 'spoil it all by saying something stupid like I love you’. She enjoyed and shared most of my craziness, though she maintained a healthy level of sanity at all times, keeping her dreams closer to reality. While I had uncontrolled fantasy flights in my dreams, she mostly remained grounded, matured by the harshness and practicality of life. She was always more level headed than people of her age and was uncommonly endowed with commonsense. I still remember how she freaked out when I scooped up a bunch of tiny frogs in my hand, during one of our walks. It was her controlled freakishness and eccentricity that probably attracted me to her, a rare thing I found among members of the opposite gender; at least the ones I had the misfortune to interact with before.

So finally one day, I amassed the guts to ask her out over the weekend. Rejection was too much for my egoistic mind to handle, and I did think it over many a times, before explaining to her how much I would love to watch a movie with her. She was cool with it and we agreed to spend a day together. After the movie I walked with her along the lake, to the eatery nearby. We sat there for hours and talked about all things under the sun. I always used to wonder what is there to talk so much, when I see all the love-birds in the park or a restaurant. But it was no more a mystery as I sat across the table with the most beautiful woman in my life.

And beautiful she was! I almost thought that Guns 'n' Roses wrote ‘Sweet Child of mine’ keeping her in mind.

She’s got a smile that seems to me, reminds me of childhood memories, when everything was as fresh as the clear blue sky. Now and then when I see her face, it takes me away to that special place, and if I stare too long I’d probably break down and cry ...
She’s got eyes of the bluest skies, as if they thought of rain. I hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain. Her hair reminds me of a warm safe place, where as a child I’d hide, and pray for the thunder and the rain to quietly pass me by
.’

Being in love is not just pain, it is an ordeal. It suddenly brings to life a bunch of emotions and sensations which you otherwise never acknowledged or never knew existed within. Two of the most prominent feelings in my case were possessiveness and jealousy. Not that I wasn’t jealous or possessive about things before, but it was the intensity and individual focus that was different this time. When I used to miss her even when she was walking beside me, you can imagine how I felt whenever I saw someone else spending time with her. All those people around me, even my friends, suddenly started looking like competitors or unwanted elements or complete nuisance. She being an innocent, straight forward person, believed in keeping in touch with everyone and never hesitated in sharing a good laugh. My sense of possessiveness at times used to take the steering wheel, driving me mad and there were moments when the thought crossed my mind that I am nothing more than just another good friend for her.

July 4th. It was a Saturday and the morning sun gave me no clue of the things that were supposed to happen later that day. Then I got a message from her.

It said “Don’t be so good, people are blindly falling in love with you”.

It took a while for the feeling to sink into my consciousness, beyond layers of reasoning. And when it did, I was aghast. I decided to play around a little and asked her who these ‘people’ are.

Zoom came the reply, “Don’t act smart now as if you don’t know them.. you know her very well”.

I decided to play the guessing game a little longer and she asked me to ‘use my little brain and big heart’ to identify the person. I asked her whether she is talking about herself, and she replied ‘Relax, just wanted to tell that you are a very good person and everyone loves you for that’.

I commented on her bad taste and I got the reply I always wanted to hear.

It said “It is not bad taste. You don’t know anything about it... it just happens and we don’t even know whether it is good or bad”.

We long for things to happen in life and when they really happen, we feel ‘so-so’ about it; this is what I have heard generally from people. But ‘excitement’ is too incomplete a word to describe what I felt after this conversation. The first time a girl proclaims her love towards you is indeed a special moment in the life of every man. So much that has been written about ‘first love’ was done for a reason. I was feeling like a teenager let loose into an adult video store with an all access pass! It was one moment when I could confidently sing the good old 'Albert Hammond song..

If I could make a wish, I think I'd pass
Can't think of anything I need
...
All I need is the air that I breathe and to love you..


Fast forward a few years, one Thursday morning she called to tell that she is getting married. As she took those seven steps into somebody else's life, I was literally on cloud number nine... 14,000 feet above sea level in the Gharwal ranges of the Himalayas. The irony of being at the most beautiful place on the worst day of your life!

In spite of all this...

I am enjoying my extended Easter holidays at home, back in Kerala. I am also working from home, so to speak. Today when I told a friend about this, she asked me why am I based out of Bangalore when my job allows me to work from any place, as long as I am connected to the web. She said she would have packed her bags in no time if she had a job offer like this, to settle down in her village in Punjab. I told her the reason is the lure of leading an irresponsible, reckless and carefree life, away from the watchful eyes of the people who recognize and cares for you. She laughed at the remark and decided not to argue on the point or lack of it.

Later in the evening as I thought more about her question, I realized that it IS probably the only real reason for leaving such a serene, peaceful and beautiful place like my native, for a chaotic and pretentious city like Bangalore. I just walked inside the house, after an hour of fooling around with the dog in the rain. Walking in the rain is quite an impossible task in Bangalore, without a few raised eyebrows or even 911 calls. I have been in trouble in the past, for walking in the rain, in the city. I sat there in the front porch watching the rain and listening to the backup orchestra. The water hen family which lives by the stream started the chorus and the frogs soon joined in. The chimes on the willow tree did play a tune or two while the rain drops handled the percussion with the thunder. Imagine having a cup of black coffee in one hand, some hot snacks in the other, and watch the rain falling down. Throw in a little Sephardic music (Yasmin Levy, I say) if you may, and you can't be very far from Niravana!

For the past few days I always woke up to the local birds symphony. Trust me when I say this, it is quite a divine experience waking up to these shrill voices. I could identify at least half a dozen birds from their calls, right from the comfort of my bed, something I was quite surprised and happy about. There were Cuckoos, Coucals, Treepies, Drongos, Barbets, Water hens and Mynahs, all contributing a line or two for their version of 'We are the world'. The crows were always around and the Babblers come visiting a little later in the morning, like a restless gang of bikers. I have always seen them in groups of ten or fifteen, living up to their name and busy flying from one tree to the next. With the sun comes the Green Bee-eaters, Wagtails, Bulbuls, Sun birds, Weavers, Oriental Magpies and an occasional Minivet or Oriole. Owls, Red woodpeckers, Kingfishers, Barn Doves and Blue-ringed Parakeets also come visiting quite often. Once a while we get to see Hares, Mongooses and Monitor lizards here, in addition to the omnipresent squirrels.

We have two tenants living in our house. They neither asked for permission to stay nor are they paying any rent. On the roof of the first floor veranda stays a House Martin family. Their beautiful, neat and sturdy mud bungalow has been there for the last few years. This is more like a Winter residence for them; they come every year for a few months, repair the house, lay eggs, raise the young ones and the whole family flies away one fine morning. The Jasmine creeper next to the ground floor porch is the preferred spot for the Javan Muniyas to make their nest. Even they are not permanent residents. They make tidy and intricate houses with dried leaves and grass; just sturdy enough for one season. They are one big joint family with five to six members working on the house or caring for the young ones at any time. Though a few inches in size, the muniyas always make their presence felt with the continuous chirping.

There are always some fruit or other available, which is one of the reasons why more than 20 different types of birds are seen around all the time. Even after feeding all the Treepies, bulbuls, crows and squirrels, there are papayas available all the time. The Barbets and bats seem to be having enough and more to eat that the guavas are all left alone. Bananas and pineapple are available in plenty and so are the 'Bell Apples'. Now is also the season for tasty jack fruits. In short, there is enough for somebody to go on an exclusive fruit diet for a month and still gain weight! Climbing a guava tree, finding a comfortable branch to sit, plucking the guavas and eating them then and there - it is far more fun than what it sounds. None of the kids or parents worry that the unwashed guavas, with all the bird poop and dust on it, might cause allergies or stomach ulcers.

In spite of all these I prefer breathing the smoke-infested city air, enjoy being herded into shopping malls on the weekends like cattle, and writing useless blogs complaining about the things I am missing. Charles Kingsley knew this already when he said "We act as though comfort and luxury were the chief requirements of life, when all that we need to make us really happy is something to be enthusiastic about."

Sometimes things that seem small and mortal are in reality immense and divine, but can only be experienced in small and mortal increments !

Spolied dream..

I was about to kiss that girl from 'Before Sunrise' when my phone started ringing. Without opening the eyes I searched all along the bedside to grab and smash the phone on the wall. But then, I had kept it away on the side shelf, so that I had to get up from bed and walk across the room to turn the alarm off. A 'clever thing' done to ensure that I don't switch off the alarm, turn around and go back to sleep. I am on a strict fitness regime these days which starts with the morning jog. I normally have no problem with Pearl Jam or Eddie Vedder in particular, but when he sings "Have no fear for when I am alone.." at 5 in the morning, when I was about to kiss the most beautiful woman in the world.. yes, I do have a problem.

But what is the fuss all about? Why can't I just get up and go ahead with the day, like I do every other day? The problems are many. To start with, a dream disturbed is a dream lost. Straightening the leaning tower of Pisa is easier than recreating a dream. You just don't have any control over this one thing in life. And if you come out of one, there is no way to get back in. I have tried all the tricks - not opening my eyes, pulling the blanket over my head, curling the pillow around my head, thrusting both hand between legs and getting into the fetal position and what not. More over, how many times you get to dream about spending time with a beautiful woman? All that I see in my regular dreams are monsters, some scene from 'Koyaanisqatsi' and an occasional bus journey to the market with strangers.

Adding to the misery, it was not just any girl in the dream.. it was Julie Delpy from 'Before Sunrise', damn it! If you still have that frown on your face it's because of one of the following. 1) you haven't watched the movie. 2) you have a twisted perception of beauty. 3) you are a certified nut. 4) all of the above.

Anybody who can come up with a method or device to program dreams is definitely going to make a lot of money. And there should definitely be a better way to start the day than getting up early in the morning.

Walking down memory lane 1

Why do we retain memories of some things while conveniently forget some others? A little Googling told me that our brain too has a RAM and a ROM like a computer, one which stores long-term permanent memories and the other short-term recent memories. But if we have enough storage space for old memories, why are we forgetting them? Is it that the limited storage flushes out old memories once a while, the 'First In First Out' method? But then this doesn't explain why we do not have ALL memories from a particular time period saved or deleted.

It seems the real reason is not faulty storage, but the inefficiency of the retrieving mechanism. Voluntary searches for specific pieces of memory, if unaided by visual/audible cues, is highly susceptible to interference and forgetfulness. And nature has its own way of prioritizing filing of memories as well. Something like the less used, rarely accessed, memories fade away with time, like websites losing out on Google page ranking. Though this might sound like the stupidest thing to do, it fits perfectly into the Darwinian scheme of survival. I have a lot of memories which I want to bring back to life every now and then, but sadly a lot them have already been pushed way down the relevancy list by mind's page ranking algorithms. So I thought of writing down those random memory snippets from the past.. don't want to lose them through the cracks in time!

I remember the first house where I lived as a child. Milky white mushrooms used to pop up at one corner of the courtyard after the rains. There used to be hundreds of them under and around a large coffee plant there. Those days, I was afraid of some monster hiding under my cot. I never dared to look under the bed once it is dark. I remembered this after seeing 'Monster Inc.' a while ago. Dad used to play the harmonica in the evenings and tell stories before putting me to sleep. My favorite story was about a stork family where the grandfather's name is 'Kiri', father's name is "kiri-kiri" and son's name is "kokkiri-kiri-kiri".

Then we moved into another house which had a small stream flowing by the side. There were a few ducks fishing and swimming in the waters all the time. Mom used to drop me at a play school on her way to office, and pick me up on the way back. I used to carry biscuits and a flask of hot milk with me. I hated milk even then and always tried to find an excuse not to have it. The play school was in the first floor and it had a nice wooden floor. I don't remember learning anything there.. but do remember buying candies which looked like miniature apples from the shop nearby. I used to get dreams about a many headed snake who lives in the well just outside the house. I remember my neighbors once having the 'Garudan Thookkam' at their house, a religious ritual where people dress up like 'Garuda', the king of birds and dance through the night. The dance starts pretty late in the night and lasts till the wee hours of the next day morning. I stayed up late to watch this, but slept off soon after the dances started.

Then we moved into the third house, the first one my Dad constructed. I was very fond of drums even when I was a child. There was something about the sound that was so captivating, and my parents had to hang around the drum circles all the time when we go out to temples or churches during festivals. I would come home then and try to imitate the drummers on the table, with the glass and spoon, with the plates and bottles and what not. So as we moved into the new house, Dad arranged for a tutor who would come home twice a week and give me some basic lessons in drumming. Soon couple of kids from the neighborhood also joined the classes and we used to have good fun. We used to have fishes in a water tank outside the house and rabbits in a cage behind the house.

It was during this time I learned to operate the radio and the cassette player and it opened up a new world. My dad had a good collection of music and I started listening to the Beatles, Boney M, Jim Reeves, Nat King Cole, Cliff Richard and the Carpenters without realizing who these guys were. The music was good, I could hum the tune even though I never understood a word, and I could follow or makeup some kind of rhythm to go with the music. Though I had a very good relation with my little sister, I occasionally used to be mean with her as well. I remember pushing her down a flight of stairs at home and tricking her into drinking super-hot water from the thermos flask. I don't have to mention that I got good spanking from my parents on both the occasions! Apart from these occasional fights, we were great friends.

To be continued..

Valentine's Day






Red wine..
Fried fish..
Experimental cooking..
A hug..
Trip to the station..
Music by Nikhil Chinappa..
Dance..
Fantabulacious..
Valentines Day..
Shaken.. not stirred..

Birth Of A Trek : a true story...

The idea of an adventure germinates in someone's mind often as a perfect antidote to boredom or a welcome escape from the monotony of life. But at times it can even happen for the sweet love of pigs; as it happened with Rob the Dude in our case. Now don't mistake Rob for a PETA activist or a member of 'Animal Rescue'; I was talking more in lines of the love for 'roasted pork'.

So one Tuesday evening, back from a swim in the shark infested waters of his pond (I am not joking.. he got a pond with about 40 sharks, though I haven't seen it yet! ), Rob felt a tingling sensation in the upper left corner of his lower abdomen, exactly where the porko-adventure glands are situated. Unable to resist the over secretion of adventuralin, he sent out the following email to Jai, Sherwin and myself. It is worth pointing out that he was at his diplomatic best while writing the mail.

Rob: Guys, Don't you think it is time for another trip to Tandiyandamol? If family obligations permit, the weekend around the 28th this month, which is a full moon night, would be perfect for overnight camping on top. I can meet you guys at Virajpet. Let me know if we can make this happen.

The memories of our last trip to Thadiyandamol, was still afresh in all our minds. The taste of green-apple vodka and roasted pork is not something sane people forget too soon anyway. Thadiyandamol is the tallest peak in Coorg, and the name when translated to Malayalam means "fat man's daughter". No..No.. honestly, it wasn't the thought of mounting the fat man's daughter that brought us there even the last time. It wasn't long before Jai responded.

Jai: That sounds great...!!! I am in as long as Sherwin is joining...( as I need to baby sit my expectant wife with his !!!!). Also this time I am trying to get a cycle along.

None of the exclamation marks were added or removed by me from Jai's mail. And I seriously do not want to correlate the three of them in the first part and the four of them towards the second part of the sentence, with the respective subjects mentioned and pass a judgment on what really excited Jai. Either way, what matters in the context of our story is the extend of excitement, not the cheap thrill you get by investigating the real cause of Jai's excitement - whether it is the destination or the prospect of a temporary escape from the wife or the bicycle. So I refrained from going all the way in that direction and mailed in my confirmation. After all, who am I to say no to such an enticing offer? Salted Pork, Rum... Yummm!!

A little later in the day, Jai came online to demystify the whole cycle thing.

Me: Jai, where are you planning to cycle around @ Thadiyandamol ?
Jai: I am planning to get a mountain bike....primary agenda is to burn calories. Trying to see if I can pedal to Thadiyanmol.
Me: waha.. great.. I would like to take some pictures while eating pork..as you would be busy pedaling.
Jai: Hi Hi.. on the contrary, I will be pedaling.. reaching there first and eating the pork...while u guys will still be climbing.
Me: good idea...May the Trinity be with you..I don't think just one of 'em is enough :)
Me: Don't forget to get those water bottle fitted helmets ... we will fill 'em with some nice grape juice.
Jai: Got a better idea; (http://www.decathlon.in/Cycling-Bags-ROCKRIDER-WATERBAG), get one of these and fill with single malt. Wow..its got a hose!
Me: hose would be better.. straw won't do.
Jai: Yes..there is a bigger one as well(http://www.decathlon.in/Cycling-Bags-WATERBAG-ROCKRIDER-8)
Me: the bigger the merrier. And pardon my harsh words.. I can pedal as well :)
Jai: hi.hi.....:-)..would be great to have all the jerks together!
Me: you bet! am game any day in fact.. though I think full moon can bring out the lunacy a tad better :)
Jai: I know....

In spite all this activity, we all noticed that there was no news of Sherwin. In a desperate attempt to get a response from Sherwin, Rob sent out another mail, where he replaced the diplomacy with some much needed temptation.

Rob: Alliyoo - so looks like yours is the last call to make. Imagine a full moon night. Tents. Campfire. Water. Food. Jaideep's cycle (all the way up there??? i donno) etc. etc.

Water..? water..? Where is the Rum dude? Anyway, the fate of the adventure now rests solely on the reply from Sherwin....

Will he say YES? Or, will he chicken out feigning exhaustion from test driving a Bugatti Veyron?

Only time can answer this question!

Dreams: they mean a thing or two?

It was pitch dark initially. Then the pale blue stage lights came on. From the backstage I could hear the murmur of the anxious crowd. The smoke guns slowly swung into action giving the feeling that I am looking through the clouds. The crowd went absolutely crazy when Thomas Anders took the stage and sang "you're my heart, you're my soul..I'll keep it shining everywhere I go..". Yes, it was a 'Modern Talking' concert, and I was enjoying the show literally standing on the stage; just behind the band. I don't have a clue how I reached the backstage, during the concert of a band whose last live performance was in the early nineties!

OK, as you might have already guessed, it was one of the dreams I had a couple of days back. I wasn't a regular in the dreaming circuit, the kind you see in your sleep. I was always comfortable dreaming in the day itself, almost exhausting my daily quota of dreams by the time I go to bed. Even if I dreamed during sleep, I rarely remembered any of them once I am awake. You need some cues in the morning to remember the dreams you had the previous night. Like, something you see or do during the day, relating you back to the dreams you had. Entirely different is the case of this friend of mine who has come to stay with me for a while. He dreams every night and remembers all of it the next morning. His brain works like a movie theater, running multiple shows every night. His dreams are so 'real' for him that he occasionally rides a horse around the room or paddle into the kitchen on his way to crack a waterfall! The sound effects also closely match the emotionally charged situations most of the nights.

As if inspired by him and the vivid stories of his dreams, I have started dreaming more often these days. I should rather say I am remembering some of the dreams. After the Modern Talking concert I had another interesting dream the same night. I was visiting this 'mystic', with a friend of mine who had something to discuss with this 'God-man'. We reached the god-man's house, and my friend started talking about the problems in his life while I watched the scene from outside. After listening to my friend for a while the god-man moved to the adjacent room on all fours, lifted his hands and grabbed something from thin air. When he turned around I could see that he was holding an over-sized millipede in his hand. I could not remember what he was mumbling, but it was to the effect that he has taken care of all the bad energy in my friend's life. The millipede symbolized all that was bad in his life. The next thing I remember is my friend telling me how the millipede actually came out of the god-man's pocket and not from thin air.

Where do dreams come from? Why do they come and always show some weird stories? Do they reflect hidden emotions and desires? Are they always triggered by things you do or topics you discuss or thoughts you have? I know I am just repeating some of the questions people have been asking for ages. But after looking at the dreams both us were having over a period of time, I feel that dreams are nothing but a mashup-on-steroids, of all that happens when you are awake. There are certain parts of the dreams which you can relate to real events, thoughts or desires, but they are more like triggers around which elaborate plots are cooked up.

Looking at my own dream, I do listen to Modern Talking once a while. I also got a live concert video, their farewell concert at Berlin, but I haven't watched it in the last few months. And to be honest, they are no Floyd or GNR for me to be delighted if I get a backstage pass. Moreover, I have videos of many other live concerts- from Metallica to the Metropole Orchestra, so why Modern Talking of all the bands? The second dream makes more sense in fact... we have been discussing about a mystical personality recently; how he listens to people's problems and attribute them to various things like events in their previous life. We had also talked in detail about how some of these so called 'god-men' cheat people, by doing cheap tricks like manifesting objects out of thin air. And over-sized millipedes.. yes, I have seen them in the woods during my treks, at least once.

So, now I know some of the probable triggers of my dreams; but how? why?... the questions all still remain.
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