If not now, when ?

Tabla on the keyboard..

2012-01-22T00:04:00.001+05:30

knsdnj;s as dfklefl
f,lsdvnsdf vnjaskns g asklsd sdklsdjeje sm, sjbsdjk sk sdjknsdjkns sdknsdk s sdknsd wejk wejkwe wemweklwejkls sdmk sdl sdnklsdklnsdm sd s sdj sdjhrkjnfljnfj f ffknf f f f fl fl f;

fnflfnf elkejelnelnenenelnelnenelnelnenelnelnenelnelnrlkneklnljndfb ojfnfnelneme;melmenelneobnenndlkne e elndndlnalnfnr elnenennnenffjrmmf;mff56f56f84f84f56c164d464d4d64d86d84d4d12312221dd897d561d56d5656d564d5648d46d56456d456d564d561565656d46d

Note : See how when i actually started using my right hand on the numeric keypad on the right.. the numbers started coming in. Pure Music!

Bang..a...lured

2011-08-23T19:44:00.002+05:30

About 5 years ago, I had no idea about this city. All I knew was that it is a capital of Karnataka with booming software companies laying their base here. Also, at one time, known for its greenery and cleanliness.

About 3 years ago, I got a chance to visit this city when me and my friend went to Pondicherry and on my way back we met some friends in Bangalore. That time, we stayed at M G Road. All we did that time was to drink in the pubs there or go to discs .After that was done, all of us used to have this great urge to eat something sweet after the pubs closed down; we usually headed for coffee day where we ate chocolate brownie with Vanilla ice cream. At such a disc (outside India they call it discotheques, which i guess is the more proper word), we were not allowed entry since we wearing sandals/floaters and not shoes. But seeing our disappointed faces, the 'bouncer' suggested that we go down and buy socks from the street side. That’s what we did. Bought some socks and there... we got the entry.
So.. That was Bangalore for me... then.

Now, that I am almost settled here because of work, I am obviously having the chance to see this city as a first person. Not knowing Kannada, of course categorizes me as a second grade citizen. This is one of the most interesting things in its own way in India. Having an Indian passport does not really make you an Indian. Unless you don’t know the language of the state you are in, you are in some ways still an outsider :-(. Though have a book now which teaches fifteen Indian regional languages through English, I still have to do something about it. Unfortunately, I am more tempted to learn a foreign language than one of the regional languages of my own country. I guess, instead of a foreign language, students must be given a choice of studying another Indian regional language in school. That would make things really more interesting. I would really like to see that happen one day. But of course, there are people I know in Maharashtra who have an Indian passport and can speak the State Language… but they are not at all Indians!!

Yes, so, coming back to Bangalore. The reason I am writing this blog is obviously because I like this city.Ofcourse, I have this habit of deciding to like things beforehand. So... This blog might be totally useless and that why interesting at the same time.
For example, since my sister has married an Irish guy, I liked Guinness even before I tasted it. I like everything that has anything to do with culture. In fact, you can sell me anything in the name of culture. I like Corona because it is Mexican. I like Mexico. It’s almost India ka judwaa bhai (twin brother). Their food is so much like ours in terms of taste. The people are so much like ours. The love to dance, so do we. But I guess, we do it in a more shy timid way. And since, everything is related to culture in some way or the other; I do end up liking most of the things. But later somebody told me that Corona was more of a Girls drink and was not really that pleased!
I once saw Justine Shapiro (Lonely Planet Host - Discovery) drinking snake blood in China. And since that day I have wanted to drink snake blood. But if you give me Indian snake blood, I might refuse. Ha ha! There are infinite such things. So.. I will again take the detour and hopefully this time stick to it. Bangalore!

Bangalore. Yes Yes. After just shifting to my rented house and on my way to do a chore, I saw a mechanic shop. It said - Royal Enfield specialist. It was love at first sight. What the fook! And after 4 months today, I have seen plenty of such mechanic shops. How cool is that! So... Mechanics right there only to repair your Bullet. Wakao! This was like discovering that you have a specific lovely disease and the city has specialists just for that specific disease. This though put me right at home. I did not really bother about actual medical facilities nearby. I still don’t.

(My Bullet being taken care of at the Mechanic)

Parks. I don’t know if it’s a rule in Bangalore, that there must be at least a small park for some set of buildings constructed. But it seems to be so. There are well maintained parks all around the city. I was happy to discover that. Now, I have a place to jog and run, secluded from the traffic. I don’t take advantage of it, that’s another thing. But such things at least prove useful for blogs.

(Cubbon Park - Photo Courtesy: Internet)

It’s the month of Ramzan now. And I have wanted to taste 'Haleem' for so long. All I knew is that you only get it in Hyderabad. But again, surprise surprise. I found it all around Bangalore. And of course, I did not waste a moment to taste the wonderful Haleem. Wiki says - 'although the dish varies from region to region, it always includes wheat, lentils and meat.’ It is nutritional. And it tasted wonderful. These days when I am coming back home late at night I really enjoy those wonderful sights of people coming out from the mosques and all the hustle, bustle and lighting that can be seen at food stalls. Also a good time to try Kheema samosas.

Ramzan Festivities at Frazer Town, Bangalore
Photo Courtesy - 'The Hindu'

Though I intended to write a separate blog to just tell about this experience, I can’t help writing it here. This was when I was travelling to Ooty with my friend. I had booked the ticket online. This was on one of the Karnataka Inter State transport buses. I was under the impression that showing the booking Id from your mobile was enough to get an entry in to the bus during departure.But the rule was, I needed to carry the e-ticket printout. The ticket checker would not allow an entry in any other way, he was adamant about the rule. The Kempegowda bus station was very crowded that time, and it took me a great time to just locate the bus at its platform. And now, I had to take a print out and the bus was about to leave in two minutes. I was really excited about Ooty and could not believe this was happening. But, don’t know how it happened. But the ticket checker got out of the bus. Walked with me from that bus platform to a ticketing window which was pretty far away. Asked KSRTC personnel to get a print out of my ticket. Accompanied me back to the bus. Then he examined the print out, and then allowed me and my friend in the bus. Wow! Now, there must be such people in the world, but what I can do I if had this experience in Bangalore. Now, how can I not like this city? The guy followed the rules and helped me get an entry as well. Thank you Sir! (During the rest of the journey I tried to show my gratitude but he did not even care for that!) A possible example of a self less good deed. :-)

Kempegowda Bus Station
Photo Courtesy - 'The Hindu'

Magazine shops. Who doesn’t love them! There is something for everybody. For me, lately, travel magazines have been like accessories. I carry them everywhere but I hardly ever read them. But the point is not that. This magazine shop - simply called as 'Magazines' on M.G.Road has got amazing variety of magazines. And the more interesting part is that - the guy owns Persian cats. These are a contended lot. Fluffy hair, very clean and healthy and don’t look like the Indian cats at all. So... Here are cats.. Who are freely roaming in the shop almost as if they own the place? An announcement on the door of the shops exclaims - 'Cats are back!'. +1 for Bangalore again.

Persian Cats at the 'Magazines' - M. G. Road
Photo Courtesy - http://www.anitabora.com/blog

Now call this luck. But I can’t help if Bangalore, if I may personify the city, decided to settle geographically in a place, which is close from Goa, Kerala and TamilNadu. So... If you are ready to spend six hours in the bus, you can transport yourself to Kerala or Tamilnadu.And for additional six hours... You get Goa!! Let me take the liberty of using that sentence again... But, 'how cool is that!!'

My sister did a 10km Run in Ireland; unfortunately, a 10km run does not qualify as a marathon. I actually consider myself the only sportsman in my family-clan. But since my sister has collaborated with the Irish, she has been into physical fitness and outdoor adventure because of her husband. I guess, for them, outdoor adventure is quite a romantic thing to do; on my sister's last B’day, my brother in law rented bicycles and took my sister for cycling to an Island. And now, this B’day, he did an even more romantic thing. My Sis received an email, the email read - ‘Congratulations! You have successfully registered yourself for a 21 km run in Amsterdam.'Ofcourse, it was more of a shock than a surprise to her, but I know eventually, she will be prepared for the run.Hmmm! Ok... Let me go back to the 10km run. After my sister did a 10km run, I felt jealous and a little ashamed.Ooops... and yes Happy for her. Thought, I should do one too. I got a chance, do such a thing, right here in Bangalore. The World TCS 10k.It is the only run organized in India which has been classified in the gold Category by the International Marathon Federation. And yes, it was pretty hi-tech. Electronic chips fitted to your shoes, records your lap timings and on finishing the race, sends your final timings to four people whose mobile numbers you have shared with them ! And also, later, I was happy to find out that on their web site, on entering my bib/running number, I could have a look at my Marathon pics.Wonderful! The Indian athletics federation for some stupid reason though still refuses to accredit the event.

The Bangalore TCS 10k
Photo Courtesy - http://www.unep.org/

This takes me to my next point. Weather. That’s the first thing that people who come from other cities notice about Bangalore. It had a wonderful weather and that too throughout the year. This weather actually helped me to make the 10km run more tolerable. It was cloudy and pleasant but it did not rain. The most basic thing for survival. Good weather. It is here!! Though lately, it has been raining more than it should. Else, the Rain Gods would have had a mentioned in the blog too – which is by the way read from 1 to 4 people. Counting myself .

A simple cake. Not too sweet and perfectly goes with Chai! Now, where will you find that? Bangalore Iyengar Bakery. It was founded here of course, and now has its small shops across India. Now that I have mentioned about this, I really need to go and savor more stuff from their bakery rather than just the Cake. But these guys pioneered in innovative bakery products.

Hindu Temples here have a different look. I like the visuals more here than the ones in North. There are a lot of carvings and statues on the top of the temple. Sometimes, you will find statues of deities as huge as the rest of the temple itself sitting on top. It’s a sight. And it’s a common sight, it’s not like only few famous temples have been built like that.

There was a time, when I really wanted to taste the roadside Idli and Dosa in Bangalore. It’s ironical, that, in my area it’s very hard to find such stalls later realized that most of such stalls are in the South of Bangalore. There were other stalls that I did see though during my morning searches. These stalls sold chicken curry/fish curry/Sambar with small tennis sized brown balls and not Rotis. Again... Being a cultural thing, I tried it out.Ofcourse, I liked it, it’s predecided you see. The brown thing is kind of tasteless but the chicken curry was good. But I was certainly intrigued. I later enquired with my kannadiga friend, and he said the brown thing is 'Ragi Mudde'.This is what I found on one of the blogs "This is a food item unique to the state of Karnataka. It is mainly popular with the rural folk of Karnataka. It is made of ragi (finger millet) flour by pouring the flour (with some amount of salt) into boiling water and mixing the two together to make soft dough. The dough is then made into tennis-ball sized balls (which are termed as Ragi mudde) and served hot. Ragi mudde is usually eaten with ghee and sambar.This is a very healthy dish both for the physically hard working as well as those with diabetes. It is indeed very healthy for children. It is high in protein, but very low in carbohydrates. Therefore, unlike rice or wheat, it is best for those with sugar complaints."

Ragi Mudde; Photo Courtesy - http://vegruchi.blogspot.com/2011/01/blog-post.html

There are various other places that I want to talk about. Like Ranga Shankara theatre. Matteo Café…etc.But I don’t want to write any longer.. . This blog has already had the word ‘of course’ 6 times and the word ‘and’ 63 times..., ok 64.

It’s only been 4 months for me here... and still to experience many things in Bangalore. I have not even been on the tourist trail yet.. Lal Bagh or Tipu Sultan’s palace or Cubbon Park to start with.(Pssst… by the way the Pani Puri and Bhel Puri sucks in Bangalore.)

A poem for every pint

2010-09-24T16:38:00.001+05:30

Photo - Taken at Brighton Beach

Before i lose this little diary that i used to carry around on my solo one day travels in the UK, jotting down all the poems or whatever they are without judgment. Embarrassment is a small price to pay for immortality after all... :-). Having a pint alone or a coffee alone always seems good in retrospect.Actually.. pssst....i felt wonderful then.

Pub - Head of the River

Pub : Head of the River

Place : Oxford,UK

***

My thoughts freeze in the cold

I try to stir them up with a few drags of smoke
But the memory of me doesn’t change with time
And the smoke clears,
Making way for you..

***

By the Oxford Canal,

Sits the old Brit in Black

She breaks the bread in pieces

And throws them down to the Ducks and Swans

The birds have the bread with water

And she has them with some bland English tea

***

Youth Hostel - Poppit Sands,Cardigan,Wales

Pub : Hope and Anchor (Probably..)

Place : Poppit Sands,Cardigan,Wales

***

The dead are dead

The ones living are dead too

Is God feeling lonely ?

***

Marquez said something,

I did not understand

I wish I had learnt more than what my education taught

For eg.. Spanish ?

***

Yesterday is over,

Today is almost done

Tomorrow,

I shall get drunk again

***

Every poet,

Loves his poems.

Every drunk man,

Loves everybody

***

What if everything is an illusion

Probably,

The only thing that would seem real,

Would be our dreams.

***

Bob Marley playing on the recorder,

In a pub .. in Wales.

Globalization..

Doesn’t sound so bad ..

***

We all know ,

We are acting in a play.

We all know..

Don’t we ?

***

Pub : .. No, this time .. was just a coffee place

Place : London

***

Wet street, wet feet

Coffee on the table, 1.95 Pounds

***

I got down at the wrong tube station

Felt like a joker.

But then, in a way,

It was the right station.

Piccadilly Circus !

***

Piccadilly Circus Tube Station

2010-03-12T15:48:00.012+05:30

   I have never thanked technology, but i know,now is the time to do it.
Without this,i would not have known what cruising means and more importantly, what it feels.Sit erect,hands slightly loose on the handlebar,thighs touching the tank but just slightly,a constant thump at 50kph and you would not care about anything else,because even the drivers speeding you by,cant help looking behind as they move past you.
    Many have argued against the cult status that the Bullet has achieved because of the maintenance that a 350/500cc Engine requires, plus the mileage that it gives.Then there are some, who would call its thump, a noise.I agree with them.Nothing so wrong with the facts or speculations.
    But you are not the same person anymore after you ride on it.At least i am not.Any kind of research is not going to help you to like the bike.A ride on it and you feel its a privilege and not a right.You feel humbled, being able to ride on the bull.And what else,there are many a things you discover and learn.

You cruise and don't speed.That's when it dawns,why speed when you can cruise.This is the time,when you start looking beyond the road,the landscape.The chaos in your mind drops to its lowest.You suddenly discover one of the reasons why you exist.You don't care much about the destination at this moment,the ride does not let you.The constant thump does not let you think beyond the next second,its that addictive.The present moment is the destination.

"Four wheels move the body.Royal Enfield moves the soul." - Author Unknown.

The Marvellous Earth

2010-02-22T11:05:00.000+05:30

'As you walked on the beach the waves were enormous and they were breaking with magnificent curve and force. You walked against the wind, and suddenly you felt there was nothing between you and the sky, and this openness was heaven. To be so completely open, vulnerable - to the hills, to the sea, and to man - is the very essence of meditation. To have no resistance, to have no barriers inwardly towards anything, to be really free, completely, from all the minor urges, compulsions, and demands, with all their little conflicts and hypocrisies, is to walk in life with open arms. And that evening, walking there on that wet sand, with the sea gulls around you, you felt the extraordinary sense of open freedom and the great beauty of love which was not in you or outside you - but everywhere.'

J.Krishnamurti

All The Marvelous Earth,Brockwood Park,3rd Public Talk 6th September 1980

The New Bullet Kid on the Block !

2010-01-25T21:36:00.000+05:30

***

Time and again..

2009-12-31T14:05:00.000+05:30

I have compelled myself to write this blog.I knew i had to write something before the year ends.I am straying away from my basic philosophy, that i would write a blog only if i have something to write about, something substantial.But as you can see, i have not written anything for the last 6 months.:-)

I know it for a fact that New Years and Birthdays and other days are good for the economy.But personally,i hate being overawed by a new year and normally tend to run away on my Birthday.

One thing is for sure, i would feel happier writing '2010' on a piece of paper rather than 2009.2010, has some reassuring edge to it,makes you feel safe,secure and warm.Its like the year of the protective brother.

Its interesting how Calendars or the concept of Time has built or conditioned our pyschology.When somebody says,'live moment to moment' .. we normally tend to think of each moment as each second.'Live each day as it comes' .. again, we are prepared to forget everything at night all the horrible things that have happened in the day.As a rule we tend to summarize a day,a month an year, but a if we go a little deeper .. feels a little foolish.

Without the concept of time.. nobody would have a bad day,a bad year.. there would be fewer adjectives defining our lives.Though it sounds really dull.. i am sure this thing would surely take away the heaviness of the heart.

Agreed.. practically we wont get anything done without the concept of time, but pyschologically is it all too necessary ?? Though i am not too sure of the ways to drop it pyschologically, there is one way that mostly works.

Its alcohol time !!!

(Photo by Harish Krishnamoorthy,Place:Marrakesh)

The Waiting Game

2009-06-13T07:55:00.000+05:30

Ok,Yes!I know,its something thats making this moment tolerable.I shall wait.I have to.I live with the hope that if i carry on just a little longer,there would come this moment,where i dont need to carry myself.

A few steps more,and then i dont have to walk.A few breaths more and then i dont have to survive.

This could be the story of the dead man who wanted to rest in peace, but then.. people started believing in ghosts.But obviously, this is not that story.In fact, this is not even a story.

This is a game.The Waiting Game.But this is not like any other game.Nobody has to be a winner here,I have to.Nobody has to be a loser here,somebody else has to.

Ok,Sorry for that.No Word Games.And for that matter no Waiting Games either.The moment shall never arrive.The bird shall never Sing.And if its a Crow,forget it!And if its not a Crow,it better not be a Pigeon.Pigeons dont sing, they paint in a rather ugly way!

Coming back to the point.There is no point in waiting,there is no point in not waiting.Words on a Bus Hoarding,I saw once, sum it up best."There is probably no God.So stop worrying and start Enjoying!"And for those who never believed in God,he is up there watching your every fucking move!

Threesomes

2008-12-06T05:47:00.000+05:30

Nature's lovely song
Three steps in the rain
Wet socks !

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Dirty Dancing
Mini skirts in the moonlight
May be,may be not.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Angel on the roof
A bright sunny day
Different timezones ?

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

She was beautiful and she was naked
Still undressed
Another Unused Mannequin!

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

Must be something
To love and to be loved.
Guess, a love triangle.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

She was right,
and i was left..
.. all alone !

The Bar at TCR

2008-09-21T03:07:00.001+05:30

Well,the title could not be more apt. Because thats almost my home. Almost, in the sense that i live two floors above this pub.Right now, i am sitting right next to it, only a door separating me and the people inside having drinks and being merry on a saturday night. Well, i had to climb two floors down so that i could catch the wi-fi network and could write this blog.
Well, not exactly, i wanted to see some videos. If you do a search on YouTube with the search word as 'Sitar', then the first video you shall most probably see is Ravi Shankar teaching Sitar to George Harrisson.
Not doing much with the Sitar. My room mate, is tired of listening me play the same two ragas. So, i always try to play something randomly, but it turns out to be the same always. I dont know, how not to be me.
The owner of the bar is our landlord and he has promised us discounts on the food we order from their kitchen.Hmm.. but sadly he did not mention any discounts on the drink. We too, havent sat in the bar yet, though its the place we have to pass through every day, waving a Hi! to the bar tender!
One of the most difficult things to understand here, is to know, how friendly can you become with some one. Obviously, i mean this in the normal way, ofcourse . :-)
But, there is a barrier that you cant put your finger on.

London

2008-08-06T23:21:00.000+05:30

Familiarity breeds ignorance.So, before I get familiar and the excitement of such a place dies away; I know I have to write something about my first week here, in London.

First of all, I can’t believe I am here. It’s like being fascinated with a certain idea, but not giving a thought that the idea could be reality some day. Now, that it is reality (I pinched myself and have confirmed this), it seems all surreal. It’s a wonderful feeling no doubt. I guess reality can only fascinating if it is dreamy. I am in that dream so far.

Walking in the streets of London is a joy. It’s a relief, in a way, that you stop existing and everything outside of you takes your attention. It’s like being a part of the play and a spectator at the same time. Yes, and it would definitely help if your shoes are comfortable too.

Though it would matter where in London you are walking. Right now, I have Central London in my mind. All the buildings look colonial. In the evening with the dim lightings, the buildings look grander. I don’t know whether it is to match the architectural beauty or not, but if you are not looking at the buildings you can look at the women. I guess it could also be the other way round. The buildings have a certain disadvantage with the women folk of London around. When you pass by the buildings you don’t smell lovely perfumes.

Talking of spirits, that’s one thing that you would not fall short of. Beer is available in plenty in even the ‘General Stores’. It’s hard to walk for five minutes without having seen a pub. The pubs are peculiar in one respect though. They will have fancy Menu Cards being displayed on their windows boasting about their food varieties. But, the kitchen closes at 5 in the evening. I guess, people have their dinner during the lunch time.

Hmm ... Food. Well, I would say, what’s the point of being in such a lovely place if you have to die of hunger? It’s impossible to survive on the English food. Well, you could survive actually, just that you would need to add a lot of ketchup to it. The food is cold and bland. But it has certain advantages which are quite evident. Having such qualities that I have mentioned, English don’t eat a lot. Since they don’t eat a lot, they don’t become sloppy, it does wonder to their work efficiency. Since the meals are not elaborate, they could be had while doing your work. But actually, I don’t mind the English Breakfasts and their salads.

Transportation is something that the English should be proud of. Be it bus or train transport, a literate man could read his way through to any part of London. Travelling in a tube is also an experience. I am sure, if I was to ask each and every person in the tube, their country of origin, I would get more than 5 distinct answers. The instructions and directions have put in place assuming that it’s your first day in London. Tube stations also offer another important facet. People playing music for money. They don’t seem like beggars at all. I could not help but stand in awe at the music they played. It’s not just the normal guitar but the electric guitar with set of speakers.

The weather being so nice, walking being so comfortable, the landscape so beautiful and the convenience thought of at each and every point … the mind remains clear. It’s simple, when you are outside walking on the road, and you don’t see any poverty, any traffic or any kind of pollution, the mind remains at rest. You don’t carry any of it home where things are as comfortable: - Carpeted houses with heaters, Windows that don’t make noises when the wind blows, not a gap where the cold from the outside leaks inside. In such circumstances, when your physical self is at rest, the only problems that would bother you are the ones that you have created for yourself. But it may be quite to the extent where you might start feeling lonely.

Well, tried to note everything that came to mind down here, but one part remains. The people of London. Unfortunately, the only interaction that I have had is asking people for directions, where they have been very polite. Or talking to the Hotel receptionist where she has been very helpful. As for now, they seem to be a witty lot who would keep a certain distance always.

There are certain interesting facts that I have noted so far.

People here don’t drink water. There are no beggars on the streets. People with vehicles don’t honk without any reason. People come to office with foldable cycles. Girls like to get pierced on all sorts of places on the face. There are more girls than guys in a tube compartment. At least, I did not notice the guys. People walk fast with no reason at all. There are no stray dogs. You get free newspapers which come with single headlines of somebody being stabbed or getting drunk. The cost of repair may exceed the cost of the equipment itself. It rains any time. They don’t frisk bags while coming or going out of offices. Showrooms don’t keep your luggage bags as you do shopping. Eat fish n chips, and you know chips taste better than the fish. You realize you are not born here. You forget that not less 65 years ago, these guys were still ruling your country.

All said and done, I think it’s hard not to appreciate the fact that it’s a wonderful city that these guys have built and right now I am just happy of having got the chance to come here. But I am as curious to know my thoughts a month later.

Soul Symphony

2008-07-21T12:51:00.000+05:30

Now let’s suppose there was no music in this world. One thing that would really depress me is that we would not know how to react when we would find no words to express what we feel. I am sure, man (or woman ) would then try to do something with his/her hands. Take to painting, try to travel to some place else, switch on the TV, talk to a friend, feel like smoking. Or probably write a poem, which would probably be the closest he (from here onwards, for convenience purposes ‘he’ would mean ‘he/she’) would get to his real emotions by using Metaphors and Similes. But no music..???? 

I wonder who discovered Music. Or was it as natural as walking on the road, eating when you feel hungry, drinking when thirsty and likewise. Which must have been the first tune that was hummed on this earth? (I am sure it would be something like the wind whistling in the pine forests.)

I actually wanted to write about the opportunity I got to meet the great Ustad Abdul Halim Jaffer Khan, but then could not help wondering where it all must have started.

I have a great urge to decorate my experiences. But then I have to remind myself that I am not a journalist who is trying to sell his stuff. Ok, let me confess, I don’t have a great vocab, otherwise I would have surely surely tried to be fancier. Ha ha!

There are too many angles to what I want to write about and I am trying to get them all in this one page.

My primary concern is about how Hindustani Classical Music is losing its way. But we forget to ask the question ‘why’? Why is it losing its way? What makes Bollywood music click with the crowd but not Hindustani Classical? Its not an effort to save Hindustani Classical because it’s such a great heritage that we are blessed with, but because I think its just brilliant and wonder why not many people listen to it. (I had to ask people around why they don’t listen to Hindustani Classical, because I really got stuck on this point) The general reason that I could get is that it’s too slow for today’s pace of life. One needs to be really peaceful to be able to appreciate this. One major think that I feel is that, the image Hindustani classical has in minds of the people. There are not enough people talking about it, Media hardly discusses such artists except in special issues. People just tend to think its not cool enough..! And people also do feel, that one needs to understand Hindustani Classical to appreciate it, which is I think is not at all correct. It’s as simple as one doesn’t need to understand Photography to appreciate good photographs.

Hmmm.. This is just a new Paragraph, but then no one would ever know what I did after the ending of the earlier paragraph and the starting of this one. I shall tell you. I thought a lot, and I could not come to any conclusion, hence started with this new Paragraph. This just gives me a clue. (Though it’s not related to what I just wrote.) The reason why we appreciate some things but find that others cannot, has something to do with the short attention span and lots of prejudice which get in the way of seeing the thing directly. Hmm… and nobody can help anyone clear it. So.. For now.. Lets just end this discussion here, because I know if somebody is going to give me the same explanation for listening to ‘Metal’, I would not be agreeing. 

On the evening of 7th of July, 2008, I got the opportunity to meet Ustad Abdul Halim Jaffer Khan. The Sitar maestro! It was just really really very fortunate for some one like me to have got the chance to meet a legend. That says a lot of things about the humble personality. The most exceptional thing about the whole experience was that, he did not seem like a person who was living with the aura of a legend or a person who has been honored with a ‘Padmabhushan’ by the Indian Government. He seemed like a person with a lot of curiosity for life and appreciation and gratitude for everything around him.

Me and my friend, students of his son Zunain Khan (A wonderful Sitar player and a Teacher, on whom I would like to write more too) spent very absorbing two hours with Guruji (Ustad Jaffer Khan). I got the privilege of playing the Sitar in front of him, as he gave the ‘Taalis’ in ‘Teental’ to check the timing. Being quizzed by him on the various Sitar notes and what they stand for.

“I am , what I am”! He asked us to remember this, whenever we would play the Sitar.(I guess, true for life too..) This really helped us to be comfortable, and the interaction was very spontaneous there on. The way it all happened, It was almost like I was with my grand dad.

Plus , who would have seen him playing the tabla? We did! The way I was playing the tabla while accompanying Kotwal Aunty who was playing Raag Pilu on the Sitar, he had to take the Tabla from me and play it! I was alomost robotic playing the table with no expressions on my face. Such things can really take take the soul out from Music. ‘Yeh toh kuch gadbad mamla hai!’,referring to my style. He he!! He did not seem 82 years at all! I feel there is a reason for a person not looking his age. If you love what you do, and keep on doing what you love, you lose the sense of time and hence stop ageing. Fair and Lovely!! :-)

Traveller for Life

2008-05-27T12:30:00.000+05:30

The sense of freshness that travelling provides with, I think nothing else can compare to it. There are distinct changes in dimension. The sense of place grows with each passing moment, while we loose the sense of time.

We lose the sense of time, I think only because we are so much into each and every moment. We are not conscious of ourselves but more conscious of the experiences. As J.Krishnamurti would have put it, there is no observer, no observed. The barriers disappear when we start living in the present. The duality is destroyed. The time lag of thought no more exists.

There’s nothing like smiling strangers. The experience of smiling strangers back at you is like hearing a bird sing while you just expected it to chirp. It’s like falling in love with nobody.

Why can’t our daily routing be like a travelling experience? I guess we would have to be blessed with poor memory for that. As travelers, we are more like explorers, ready to see and experience new things. Ready for adventure. Observation tuned to everything happening around. We are not moving about with any pre-conceived motion. While we start our routing already knowing what is going to happen. The thoughts in our head are so concrete that we already create reality much before it would have the chance to happen. No wonder we get ourselves into endless circles. No wonder routine is routing and we fail to create anything new. Minds become dull and duller.

Trains are special. It’s like getting into a machine and then getting out discovering that everything’s changed. And the machine is interesting too. There are people inside it whom you can talk with. It’s a different kind of intimacy. You know the journey is not going to last forever. You are almost sure that you are not going to meet the person again. So any exchanges that happen during the journey are always genuine. There are no future expectations. Yeah, but then you can always take phone numbers, but that would be like taking the zing out of the whole thing.

Trains rock. Literally! Sleeping on a train is amazing. The motion of the train has that effect. I would like to think people generally like to sleep in the train and not because they are feeling sleepy. But I do admit that they would also sleep because there is nothing else to do.

Having nothing to do is a curious situation. Mind doesn’t understand how to react. I guess that’s the basic problem. It has nothing to think about, no activity to plan, and nothing to keep itself busy. If that’s the thing, then what does one do… that’s of course.. if we assume that the mind is a different entity. But anyways.. not going further into this, this always makes me curious about the duties of the watchmen. I always try to talk to them and understand the way they spend time sitting for so long. Trying to know what’s going on in their mind. But I have got no specific answers as yet. They always answer nonchalantly, ‘Bass.. Aise hee time kat jaata hai..’. I am still wondering.

The crow was barking and other stupidities....

2007-10-01T21:48:00.000+05:30

>Sunday comes after Monday. Yes, Ofcourse. With 5 days in between.

>The night was long,the day was short and hence were never seen together.

>The crow was barking. The dog did not mind.

>The 'Wall' said Ouch! It was getting screwed.

>Yellow Grass and the Purple Mango.A beautiful Painting!

>A slave for the first time dreamt. Dreamt that night,that he was free. He felt happy the next day. He was free to dream!!

What Crap !!

2007-09-25T15:59:00.000+05:30

Just thinking (Abhijit Bhave thinks !), what to write. I dont know , why am i saying this. Because, if i dont know what to write, why am i forcing myself to write. Whats the catch?? Am here to find it out. I think its to make up an image for yourself.The way you want it to be. And thats what i plan to do. And i guess, thats what i have been doing. Why am i writing it here and not in my personal diary? With every passing day am i getting insecure and wondering about the significance of my existence on this planet? I think so.I think writing anything down gives a sense of solidity and permanence. Writing here helps or atleast gives a feeling that its going to help. Helps to make a space for yourself.Even if it just e-space.Permanence. Yes, each passing moment seems ungraspable. Permanence can only be brought with the help of friends , relationships, memories... and blogs!!
Now that i am clear as to why am i writing, the next thing would be to write something.
I guess i have written enough.
What crap !!!!

The Green Leaf...

2007-09-10T21:06:00.000+05:30

The old man was mumbling at night. He was talking about the green leaf.Thats how i got the title of this blog. And the write-up too. Yes, the green leaf seemed to have fascinated him to no end. But , his end was near. So, he could not take the confusion any longer. And since he was too sleepy in the day to think, he did it in the night when he would dream about the leaf. And in his dreams , he would always be awake. That was a great help.
He knew the tree, its every branch , every twig.. and ofcourse the green leaf. Well, all the other leaves were green as well... ,but i guess they are all different from each other too.It was at the end of the branch and seemed to enjoy the solitude. If you saw from a certain angle,then you always thought that the leaf was ready to jump. Dive into a pool or do Bungee jumping.Almost as if waiting for something to happen that would make it jump. Thats why the old man never went near it.In fact i have never seen him going out of his room.
Yes.. coming back to the old man's mumbling.
He kept mumbling something and i could not hear a word of it. But i always imagined it was about green leaf that i told you about.

On the NAtional Highway...

2007-07-26T18:45:00.000+05:30

There are three things that i want to warn you before you would want to begin your journey on the national highway.The first thing is that national highways are dangerous.The second thing is that they are national.And the third thing is that you are actually reading this.Anyways, the whole point of living your life till death is zilch.Hence, once you realize that there is no point in living, then why as well not travel. Travel is the best way to move.So i say.
So that sunny morning, when it was raining and there were dark clouds all over the place.. i decided that i should be carrying an umbrella. And the umbrella thought the same. And so we became friends. Me and the umbrella. We were just friends. But then it started to rain heavily and hence i had to use my friend. A friend in need is a friend indeed.
So, it was raining on the national highway and i was using my friend so that i could remain dry and my friend could get wet. We both were happy by this deal.
We were walking on the highway and talking to each other. But the problem was that my friend could not talk. Because my friend was an umbrella.

When the sun burnt..

2007-07-26T18:24:00.000+05:30

Crazy soul under the window lay till the shades of desire grew dull with pain and asked the sun whether it was going to keep awake all night long. But the dungeons of fire did not seek any glory from the king of wisdom and hence the desire to unravel the skepticism was not met with great acceptance.But the suchness of the events made the tired soul grow weary of darkness of light such that hypothermic reactions ceased that moment to fly kites of freedom on the outskirts of the city.It was no pleasure at all.Only the brightest minds could grasp the enormity of the conditioning of the human minds.BUt the myriad walls of great paintings had to be torn down to elevate the problems of the nervous trees in the ochard of the apple trees. But the fruits had no interest to ripe and no enthusiasm to live further.And they lived happily ever after.

She slept..

2007-07-06T20:44:00.000+05:30

It was the third class compartment.No, actually it was the first class. Actually, it doesnt matter.She slept. And when you are asleep,its just perfect.You dont exist.You would not even have time to wake up even if somebody shot you.

Ofcourse,nobody would have thought of shooting the girl.Except with a camera.:-)

To be continued...

Just Cant believe this..

2007-06-27T21:14:00.000+05:30

Wow..
Here i am in the office and blogging..
Never thought , i would be able to do this.With the policies of the company and restriction on site access.
But then, hats off to google. Have been able to access this without getting caught by the Web Sense.
Hmm.. I now have a reason to stay back. Stay back longer ... ofcourse.

Now only one more thing could make me happier, if somone read this. :-)

Sunny Beaches and a girl called Maggie Magpie..

2007-06-24T13:24:00.000+05:30

I noticed her as she was climbing up the stairs.She was lost in thought.But probably,she knew where she was going.Thats something, i always admire the human body for. Mind is engrossed some place else,but the subconscious handles things alright.Wonderful.

Well, she kept on walking.She kept at it, until there were no more stairs to climb.

The sunny beaches kept calling her.But she was engrossed.She reminded me of the girl from one one of Milan Kundera's novel.

i dont remember,where i was all the time.Probably, i was lost myself.

The daffodils said something to me.

They were probably complaining about the sun flowers.

Haikus for No one

2007-06-24T12:51:00.000+05:30

Just when i felt the grass,
i felt something.
The grass.

Well, technically, not a Haiku.
But Lets try more.

Since the day i have met you.
I met somebody else too.
Your sister.

Hmm...
these are not haikus..

The sun was still,
the earth still too.
God had the proper shutter speed settings.

Two people on the run.
One was serious , the other did it for fun.
Blog created successfully.

(Now blogger saves your draft automatically)

Past tense of Shit is Shat????

2007-06-24T12:28:00.000+05:30

To whom am i writing this to?Anyways,feels nice to have something of your own and secretly hope that people would read this and post comments.Cant help the ego.

If there were two,
and i was one in the loo..
What would happen to the one,
who has nothing to prove.

Insanity is contagious.Feel like writing such more.
I obvioulsy would.

Since the time of the prince,
And the sweeper of the Kingdom.
I saw many tress flee...
Was it boredom..??

yes,
it rhymes.

:-)