Where minds meet and wisdom arises....

Why do we write stuff and care to publish it on our blogs? We may say it's an urge from within, to express, to create, but would we have done it if nobody cared to read? How long can anyone go on posting if nobody visited his blog and posted a comment or two? We want to share our ideas with others, let others know what we think about, and know what they think about our ideas. In short, we want to communicate, share and interact.

Many blogs close shop because of lack of attention. And many more (including mine) find fresh air and vigour through the attention, interest and interaction with fellow bloggers. I've posted and commented about things that would never have crossed my mind had it not been for the prodding and provoking of blog friends. It's a sad fact that many promising blogs die a premature death because of the lack of attention and warmth from others in the blogworld.

All these thoughts came to me during the course of interaction with a friend, who was referring to a new blog that was recently launched. When i visited, it turned out to be more than just a blog. The authors(presumably young and full of vigour) had compiled a small collection of articles on various subjects of current interest. All the articles were informative, unbiased, thought provoking, and more than anything, highly readable. What was really exciting was that this blog was also a platform for others to pen down their thoughts, form articles and publish. The driving force behind this endeavour is to promote and nurture new writing by talented people who haven't yet been introduced to the readers. All of us definetly had an itch to see our ideas being read and discussed by others, in seeing our name in 'print', in being refered to as 'writers'. Maybe the itch has been relieved a bit through the blog phenomenon. This blog can be a step further for anyone remotely interested in calling oneself a writer, or anyone born with atleast an ounce of the writing muscle.

This is the place. If you visit it and find it interesting, please leave a few words of encouragement and warmth. More than anything, do write a line or two about it in your posts and provide links. All growth happens only through nurture and care--and it's definetly exciting to become a part of the growth of an interesting phenomenon. Let this site grow and flourish. It's still young and new--but like anything young, it has a kind of freshness and enthusiasm that's infectious. Let's hope to find good stuff here, and if possible, let us contribute to its richness. Let us read good stuff, create great stuff and share it with everyone across and beyond the blogworld.

Who am I ?

Yeah, it's something that's amused me over quite a long time and one which continues to intrigue me. What is my true identity? Who am I? May be everyone of us would've asked this question to ourselves at sometime or the other. Such penetrating questions become more glaring at times of distress, and though most of us get over the itch to find the answer and usually get on with life, the question remains within, ready to pounce back on us at some other difficult bend of our lives.

This blog is a forum wherein we write about our lives--as much as we want, and in the way we want to. Sometimes we distort reality, add and make up facts, hide many things and present a picture of ourselves to the world out there. We are in a way putting up a front, wearing a mask for all to see, beneath which lies our identity. The same holds good for our everyday life though in a much subtle way.

I have various roles to play in my everyday life. I'm a son, a husband, a friend, an employee, a disciple, a common man, a blogger...etc. I cannot be the same person in all these roles. As a son, i'm quite different than what i am as a disciple to my master. I may not listen to my parents and disagree with their views but with my master, I've absolute faith and obedience. As a writer i'm different to the role i play as an employee. The committment and passion i have for writing is yet to show up in my job. Yet underneath all these roles runs a common thread -- the awareness that i'm the one playing these roles in this drama of life.

On a much deeper level, this question takes on very spiritual and mystical undertones. Last week i had a cup of tea at my desk, switched off the monitor and walked downstairs to the cubicle where mouli was working on a router configuration and talked to him for nearly ten minutes. Just two days later, i had to shut down the monitor and rush towards manipal hospital where his body was lying in the mortuary, waiting for his parents' arrival. All of us stood around his body engrossed in our thoughts, feeling a sense of deep loss. Mouli looked as if he was in a deep sleep and would wake up any moment. Rather his body was lying there, devoid of the life force that kept him moving for so many years. Who was mouli? Was he just a body that had stopped vibrating with life now? Or was he something bigger that had taken on this physical frame for a brief sojourn here? In my spiritual journey, I was acquainted with the idea that we are nothing but particles of consciousness, and that this body, emotions and thoughts were our faculties necessary to lead a life here. But the idea became deeper and intriguing in that instance. How was mouli viewing this situation? What could be his perspective? Is it possible to gain that view-point when we are alive in this body? Is that what the mystics call as enlightenment?

As I continue my life as a common man living with the mundane life, working against deadlines in order to earn a living, experiencing happy moments with loved ones, worrying about the uncertainties of life, shivering in the face of the unknown and dangerous, gaining courage through the encouragement of mentors, dreaming of reaching great heights, hoping, breathing, living and loving, one question still remains unanswered, and will continue to do so until i have a direct experience of the answer.

Who am I?

Life in a day....and a loss!

Ahem....the mood in the office is a bit easy today. It's friday and there's a feeling of relaxedness because of the proximity to the weekend. The employees are in an informal attire, walking around in a leisurely way, all smiles--an exact opposite of the monday morning atmosphere. Work appears more enjoyable and less frantic. Wish it were the same on all days! Or is it because i'm feeling good today, that i feel a relaxedness around me?

I need to go to the barber and get a hair cut this evening. Somehow, the hair cut never comes to my satisfaction, and for a week or so after a visit to the barber, i don't feel like looking into the mirror. Then the hair grows and fits well around my top-- for two weeks. The fourth week sees an overgrowth, again giving an uncomfortable feel, reminding me about a visit to the barber. Next saturday on christmas eve, we have our wedding reception party. So a week away from an occasion is the best time to go to the barber.

I feel helpless at some deep level. Things are moving fast and are happening on their own, pulling me along the way. There seems to be a loss of control. I'm in the driver's seat of my life's vehicle but the controls aren't with me. The vehicle is moving on its own. I'm a mere spectator. Why?

A Zen quote from a blog pops up from memory: "Don't hope for a life without problems. An easy life results in a judgemental and lazy mind. So an ancient once said,'Accept the anxieties and difficulties of this life'"
I mull over it and feel slightly comforted.

Coffee arrives. The young man smiles. I smile back and say, thank you.
The cublicle is beginning to get cold. Coffee is hot and as it slides down into my throat, i feel cosy. The taste is slightly bitter in my tongue but i like it.

The work load is less today and my mind drifts all around, sucking up bits and pieces of everything. Archana must be preparing food at home. Till yesterday she was a friend. Now she's a wife, and a part of my family. We have the same friendly equation between us but somewhere, the society makes us conscious of our roles as husband and wife in a very subtle way. We cannot be as we like. We need to do things for the sake of elders...She fits well without a hesitation although within, she's free and unshackled by tradition. But I can't! Everytime something comes up that doesn't go well with my beliefs i feel rattled. Why?

A shocking news! A colleague comes up and says,' Your friend, Chandramouli, who works in the network department... He expired today morning in a road accident!'

Half of the office is downstairs near the reception. Nobody can believe it. Mouli was run over by a truck on his leg. He got into an auto and told the driver to go to a hospital, half an hour away and on the way, due to heavy blood loss, he passed away.

Mouli is just 32. He was a softspoken, hardworking gentleman. We remember him as someone who was always ready to help anyone in trouble, and who would quietly exit once everything was settled--without bothering to hog the limelight. When i was desperate for a job and others were just talking, Mouli made arrangements for an interview, talked to the concerned people, ensured that i had more chances of getting an opportunity, and later on behaved as if he wasn't involved at all. It's difficult to believe that he's not there anymore. Death shatters our composure. It brings us down to earth, reminding us of our helplessness before unseen forces.

We are at the mortuary, waiting for the postmortem to get over. My entire spiritual family is here. My master is standing nearby. We are praying in silence. May his family find the strength to cope with this sorrow. May his soul find peace and tranquility. May the masters guide his soul into light.......

Waiting for the sun....

It's winter. The chill isn't much here in bangalore as compared to some places in north india or elsewhere in the world( where people have died due to the cold waves and extreme temperatures), but still you feel like reaching out to a hot cup of coffee, some spicy chilly bondas from the roadside vendor, or a cosy blanket early in the morning. You feel itchy all over your body after the morning bath, before you can grab the bottle of cold cream. You envy the slum-dwellers who're happily hustled around a warm fire, smoking beedis, and roaring with laughter over some obsence joke while you shiver alone on your bike, speeding off to work on a cold morning. The sun goes home early, maybe to a waiting wife, some soaps on tv and hot jilebis while you slog over some damn code in your air cooled cubicle.

You don't just feel bad, afterall. On a sunday morning, when you step out of your house at dawn and take a walk to the nearby park through the mist, you feel a strange comfort. The chilly air soothes you. The mist is very familiar, here now and gone in a few moments when the sun comes up. You feel one with nature. You feel you belong to this atmosphere. Nothing matters-- your job, your people, your dreams, your failures, your stupidity....No! You belong here.

Winter embraces you with warmth like no other season.

An awesome blog...

I came across his blog in my early blogging days ( 5 months back ). I was struck by the authenticity, wisdom, and immediateness of the posts this young man wrote day after day. I can say he's a scientist, philosopher, mystic and a poet--all rolled into one. What was even more intriguing was the utter disinterest he had in any comments or responses from others. The comment section was always empty, and once when i posted a comment, it got deleted the next day. He never answers any comments, but occassionally addresses the audience who might be reading his posts. And he has compiled an amazing set of interesting blogs in his link list. Every time i read his posts, i learn something significant in a simple, direct and immediate way.

I think every blogger needs to link to this guy and read his posts regularly, irrespective of his disdain for any comments. He's simply fantastic!

The Power of a group

Anyone who's travelled in Mumbai's local trains knows this, physically. The train halts at a station for only 14 seconds, and the passengers, more than 50 at any time, have to get out and get in within that time. How does it happen? Well, do nothing. Just stand with the crowd and the crowd pushes you out of the train or into the train from the platform.

And those who've meditated in a group or sung in a group know this group effect at a deeper level. The whole is always greater than the sum of its parts. A strange energy gets built up in a mass gathering that propels everyone in the group towards something unimaginable--either good or bad. People kill one another in riots, they can't do it alone, only a mob can do it. And the same people marched towards claiming back independence from a powerful coloniser more than 60 years ago in this country--again, in a group, not individually.

I always thought that writing is essentially a solitary activity, that you never could collaborate and produce any piece of writing. But blogger guys proved me wrong, at least partially. We all have heard about a group of people continuing on a piece of fiction, taking turns and contributing a part to the growth of a story. But can a group of people sit together and write their own individual short stories and novels, inspiring each other, commenting on each one's work and contributing to the overall creative process? Well, it seems Yes!

Every year in the month of november, thousands of writers gather on the net and resolve to write a 50000 word novel within one month. Each writer writes his novel and submits-- the only criterion should be that he has completed 50000 words. What he writes and submits is entirely his, and he can take it to any publisher and get it into print. Many people drop out but thousands reach the target as well. Whether what they write in that mad rush remains readable or not is questionable but What's interesting is that, this collective energy can push the writer towards a goal which he'd have found daunting were he to be alone.

I stumbled upon this last month but couldn't register because the due date was over and also because i had no idea what to write about. Now i have almost 11 months to get ready before November 2006 stares me in the face. And then for one month, i'll keep aside some time everyday to give shape to a long forgotten dream. Where can this take us? Anywhere! Where was R.K. Narayan before Swami got published? And Arundhati roy, or salman rushdie or any writer worth his salt? where were we before we opened our individual accounts on blogspot and posted our first words? Now we share our thoughts and have a handful of audience which,i believe has definetly contributed to the richness of our writing.

Forget glory, money and fame. What's thrilling is the fact that you are giving birth to something unique, something that never existed before. Once created, this can have a life of its own and touch someone, somewhere around the world, maybe in some future, if not now. A Novel!! A portrait of someone's life! You are the creator, the provider and the destroyer of this new world. You get to play God.

Anyone interested? Check This!

Solitude..........

Who doesn't want to be left alone at times? And who can stay alone for quite a long time without any friends or acquaintances? We need both-- interaction with others and also some quiet time with ourselves. Neither should become a priority over the other.

I'm basically a reserved person who'd love to be left alone most of the times. Yet at times, i feel the need to interact with people, share my thoughts and ideas with them and listen to their lives. This need to interact and belong to the outside world has increased in the recent years. When i was travelling to jammu last fortnight with my family, i felt this belongingness more than ever. When i'm weary with the work in the office or bugged up with the rush of everyday life, i search out for my friends and spend time chatting or listening to their ramblings.

Yet nobody can spend all their time in the outside world. Even when we're alone, we're with our thoughts, ideas and worries--totally occupied, and in a way involved with the world(through our thoughts). So solitude necessarily doesn't mean staying away from people, in a remote place, or locked up in a room. I think we need to touch silence within ourselves to experience that solitude.

When all our thoughts cease totally, then we can truly be with our'selves'. This solitude is very much required simply because it opens doors we never thought existed. Even at a superficial level it helps us understand ourselves better and think deeply about issues in our lives in a powerfully focussed way. And at a higher level it takes us beyond what we know, and introduces us to the unknowable.

I think the time has come for every human being to get acquainted with the solitude hidden within him. We need to turn towards the spiritual aspect of our personality if we want to make sense of this increasingly complex modern world, and the confusion it's capable of creating in us.

The time for Meditations has come.

A Kiss of life

My hearfelt thanks to all blog friends who came here and left their sincere wishes. And also to those who left their foot prints without any verbal gestures.

When i opened my mail box this morning, this message from a friend was the first one to greet me. Hope these words inspire you to look at life with fresh eyes and live every moment with great love and happiness.

In this journey of life, I've learned.....

that you can do something in an instant that will give you heartache for life.

that it's taking me a long time to become the person I want to be.

that you should always leave loved ones with loving words. It may be the last time you see them.

that you can keep going long after you can't--- that we are responsible for what we do, no matter how we feel.

that either you control your attitude or it controls you.

that regardless of how hot and steamy a relationship is at first, the passion fades and there had better be something else to take its place.

that heroes are the people who do what has to be done when it needs to be done, regardless of the consequences.

that money is a lousy way of keeping score.

that my best friend and I can do anything or nothing and have the best time.

that sometimes the people you expect to kick you when you're down will be the ones to help you get back up.

that sometimes when I'm angry I have the right to be angry, but that doesn't give me the right to be cruel.

that true friendship continues to grow, even over the longest distance. Same goes for true love.

that just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to doesn't mean they don't love you with all they have.

that maturity has more to do with what types of experiences you've had and what you've learned from them and less to do with how many birthdays you've celebrated.

that your family won't always be there for you. It may seem funny, but people you aren't related to can take care of you and love you and teach you to trust people again. Families aren't biological.

that no matter how good a friend is, they're going to hurt you every once in a while and you must forgive them for that.

that it isn't always enough to be forgiven by others, Sometimes you have to learn to forgive yourself.

that our background and circumstances may have influenced who we are, but we are responsible for who we become.

that just because two people argue, it doesn't mean they don't love each other. And just because they don't argue, it doesn't mean they do.

that we don't have to change friends if we understand that friends change.

that you shouldn't be so eager to find out a secret, It could change your life forever.

that two people can look at the exact same thing and see something totally different.

that your life can be changed in a matter of minutes, by people who don't even know you.

that even when you think you have no more to give, when a friend cries out to you, you will find the strength to help.

that credentials on the wall do not make you a decent human being.

that the people you care about most in life are taken from you too soon.


Live life one day at a time.For it seems that when we are young, it is all an uphill climb. But when we get to the top,we are gravely disappointed. Because it is the little things in life that matter---before we know it, our time is up. It could be any day, any hour, any minute.

Live today, this moment as if this is the last.
Inhale as if this is your last breath.

When you step into this moment, you step into eternity. And all eternity is yours.

A Very short break.

It's a devilish custom in this part of the world; those who get fed up with the world and family life run away to the Himalayan mountain ranges in search of salvation. It's rare that anyone goes in that direction to get entangled into a family life. Well, i'm one such crazy guy.

On Nov.28th, I'll be getting married, somewhere close to the Himalayan snowcaps. So if you visit my home in this corner of blogosphere, know that i'm away and just stay around for a while. If you like something or dislike something here, please leave a note. I'll pick it up once i'm back in a fortnight.

Have a good day.

Snow flakes on your shoulder....

I'm walking on a lonely road. It's early in the morning and the mist around me makes it difficult to see anything beyond 10 feet. It has snowed the previous night and the roadside pine trees look like santaclauses lined up to welcome all visitors to this village. The air is chilly-- although i'm wrapped up in two sweaters and a blanket, i'm shivering a bit. There's snow everywhere--the ground, the shrubs, the trees, the occassional houses at a distance--all are covered with cottony white soft snow.

There's an old man sitting by the roadside. He has a turban around his head and a torn dirty blanket around him. His shoes are worn out. I stop near him and gaze at his face as he gets up slowly. His face is very familiar but i'm unable to recognise him. He smiles an affectionate toothles smile.

We are walking together in silence-- I and the old man. The mist begins to clear slowly and along with that there's a slight clarity within also. I begin to remember that I've abandoned everything and come to this strange place in search of something. But I've forgotten the reason why I'm here. As I try to make sense of things the old man coughs once and asks, 'Would you like to have a cup of tea?'

I observe that he has a black scar on his nose as i reply, 'No, thank you.'

Now the mist has cleared further. At a distance a river flows smoothly down the rocks. I should cross this village and turn northwards to reach my destination. But where exactly am I going? What am I searching for? Why did I abandon everything and come in search of something I don't even remember now? I have no answer to any of these questions and as I ponder over these, a voice crackles up from beside me, ' Want a cup of tea?'

There are snowflakes on his shoulder. He has a slight smile but he's not joking. I smile back and just say, 'No'. He must be atleast 70, but is healthy and agile.

The snow on the ground is soft and fluffy. We are walking briskly and I can see the sun rays lighting some tree tops at a distant bend. Somehow I feel that the destination is nearer than anticipated. I look at the old man walking beside me. He has a song on his lips and a spring in his steps. Suddenly I remember that we haven't introduced ourselves to one another. Where else have I seen him before? And why is he walking with me now?

'Do you want a cup of tea?'--- his voice is warm as ever. I stare at him. The mist has cleared now and we are at the bend in the road. Early morning rays pierce through the pine leaves and dance on his turban. Before I conclude that I'm walking with a mad man, he points to my shoulder and says;-'Snowflakes'.

* * *

I remember this dream so vividly because I've seen this many times over the past 7 years. And also because this is not just a dream--at least not fully.

In search of permanence

There's a desire for permanence that's inherent in all of us. The reality is that Nothing is permanent. Everything changes--some suddenly, some slowly, some very slowly but change, they do.
We hate to contemplate about change--we always want the status quo to remain. Change leads us to the unknown--and the unknown is terrifying. It may bring us something good, but who knows if it leads us down into misery and suffering!

Is it true for everyone? May be yes. If we can embrace change, step into the unknown willingly and face the uncertain, i think we'll forget the word 'boredom'. Life will be a wonderful journey every moment.

I understand that we are here on this earth to experience this life. And this life is not confined to what we just know and are familiar with. There's a world waiting outside my door, things i have not yet seen, heard, felt, experienced. If i deny them and stick to what just i'm comfortable with, i'll be failing the purpose of my birth-- that is to experience the diversity of this wonderful place.

I'm yet to visit another country, or get acquainted with a culture different from my own. i'm yet to see movies made by such masters like kurosawa and kshelovsky, yet to read the wonderful literature produced by some of the brilliant minds, yet to do a bungee jump or watch a lion in it's natural habitat or taste continental food, or set my foot on the vast icy expanse of the antartica. This life is such a small gap between birth and death--we don't even know at what moment our heart will stop beating--- and most of the time we waste ourselves in silly quarrels and unnecessary tensions. We don't care about the beauty of a sunrise, or the depth of the silence that's hidden within us. There's a thrill in accomplishing something that we thought was impossible for us, or in overcoming one of our weaknesses. We miss such things in the hurry of the day to day activities. And there's the vast expanse of the spiritual world which most of us never bother to even acknowledge!

What stops us from taking a flight into the unknown? What makes us stick to what we know and waste this wonderful opportunity God has placed before us? I think it is Fear. The Fear of failure. The Fear of losing all that we are familiar with.

Unless we conquer Fear, we go nowhere. Unless we become Fearless nothing is achieved. If there is any worthwhile achievement in anyone's life it is to become fearless. Everything follows later.

On a sunny friday morning...

I yawn out of bed at 7.45, fully aware that i've to be at my office at 9, wading through a 30 minute traffic. Im growing lazy day by day but it's okay, i can afford laziness at times. The weekend is nearby and my body is used to this routine. Need time to make it alert.

I have a quick shower all along trying to be alert and awake. Read a concept and trying a bit to implement it. Watchfullness! Be a witness! Hmmm! I stand before the mirror and gaze at the rough face that desperately needs a shave. This face is not me. It belongs to me. Like the blue shirt i'm wearing. This face and the body belong to me--they aren't me. Rubbish. Nope, not exactly. Rubbish, only at the superficial level. Profound if really experienced. How to experience? How tough!

I'm ready and munching my way through two chappatis and brinjal sabji that mom has put together. She's on the nearby sofa, leisurely reading today's paper. Dad watches yesterday's match highlights on TV. My mind wanders between the food i'm gulping, the sixers dhoni is belting, the ticking wallclock and the warm sun outside signalling the end of a fortnight's rain. I'm apprehensive for no reason-- like an errant schoolboy who hates school. I've some document reviews to finish today. Don't feel like going to office. Feel like meditating for a couple of hours, read the collection of bret harte's stories and sleep for half a day. Remember Archu's going to her native today. Should be at the station before 6 in the evening. Should ask for permission to leave early in the evening. What if there's work load? What if the team leader refuses to let me go early? Tea's getting cold. Another sixer--the winning one by Dhoni. Dad looks pleased although he's watched this match yesterday. Success brings a smile-- even if it isn't your success.

Bangalore's cold and warm--it looks confused. There's less traffic today. Ymmm it's ramzan but we don't have an off. Many of my muslim colleagues were on fast last month, and they will be absent today. Dust everywhere. My bike needs a service. Traffic signal. A biker speeds off and the police man notes down his number. What next? Will he send a notice to that guy's address? 80 seconds more. Impatience everywhere. Hurrying to go somewhere, reach somewhere. Time! So important. Save time by rushing. Then what? What to do with the saved time? Nobody seems to know. It looks like a stupid question to ask? What do you do with all the damned saved time? What? Watch a stupid teleserial? Or lie down for another hour in bed worrying about... 10 seconds...

The office building looks sleepy. Maybe it woke up just now and the sleep is still in it's eyes. No, it's me who's still sleepy and sloppy. Less people today. The security guards stand outside, smiling and alert. They are a mystery to me. They do nothing but stand and watch people, stay alert, get bored(?), do minor errands-- do they ever think of job satisfaction, job security, skill upgradation, making a difference? What's their salary? One of them greets me and i wave back. He knows me. He'd helped me park my car last month when it rained heavily all day long and i'd no option but to take out the car.

I say hello to my team members and sit at my desk. The coffee is already on my table. I click start the system and as it springs to life slowly, i contemplate a bit. Then i write all of this.

Festival of lights.

Diwali is here again. Lights everywhere. Rains too-- it doesn't dampen the spirit of celebration.

Making an all out effort for something big. Never done this, only dreamt all along.

Things have changed in my life. Never took stock of this. Dad is more free with me nowadays. We speak easily to one another, crack jokes---this wasn't possible last year when i was pursuing my dream(?) of becoming a writer, and also when i was more reclusive and introspective. I seldom thought how parents would be feeling. Dad had retired from service, and mom was about to finish her tenure in the health department. They must've been worried for my future.

I was sad about the lack of anything in my life at that moment and this certainly troubled them more. My spiritual practices gave me hope in that hour but dad didn't approve of this. For him, spirituality was escapism from an active life and couldn't be practiced by one who was in the thick of life. Some of his relatives had abandoned their families and run away in search of God, and Dad thought i would do the same one day.

Now i see a kind of relief in him and Mom. I have a steady job, i'm getting married, and my spiritual family is my biggest support--something dad has realised now. My master never turned away from life, and what we learn from him only makes us better humans, not escapists. There's more fun and laughter at home nowadays. I'm no more reclusive. It's as if there was some block between all of us, and it has just melted away. And my pursuit and passion for writing is even more intense now.

Feeling light and warm within although Bangalore is freezing and dripping wet.

A happy deepavali to all bloggers( In particular Jen, Ash, chez, Bookworm, Jen from states, b&p and Natalia) and everyone on Planet earth.

Let all darkness melt away in the light of Diwali's lamp.

Rains...beautiful rains.

When they're scarce we wail. When they pound we panick. We want rains to come only as much as we need, only where it's required, only during times when we are safe at home. We are humans.

Wonder what the raingods must be thinking!

Dawn!

It's 7:15. Cold atmosphere. A slight back ache. Rajesh's walking briskly on the terrace, you can see him everytime he passes by your window. Time to rush to the bathroom, to the office, to life. Look outside. There's a white envelope on the world. Mist! The air's thick with the early morning mist. Somehow you feel light inside. You smile.

In the dead of the night

This room is a bit cooler compared to the rest of the house, because it's on the second floor; also because it's that twilight zone between rains and winter. You feel acute chills at dawn; you can't get up for your early morning meditations 'cause your body wants to curl up in the blanket for another five minutes.

It's dark everywhere. You hear dogs singing, far away. Some drunkards are wobbling their way home in the wet street below. An aeroplane cuts through the thick clouds, it's grunt somewhat muffled by the cottony vapours of the sky. The last bus speeds off towards the outskirts of the city-- it's still overcrowded. This city is no longer a garden city; it's bursting with people.

You lie on the bed and stare at the stained walls for a good 10 seconds, not knowing what else to bring forth. You are desparate to write something--whatever it is--aren't you?

A face comes to mind. It's a 25 year old kid. He's in jail for murdering a 'reformed' gangster. He's the next godfather, the media says. A few cops agree. The word is that he's ruthless. He's handsome and looks like a baby. You wonder at his motivation, his thoughts, his worldview.

Archana had talked about the amount her parents are spending for the wedding. You try not to think of it but it pops up again and again. Although it's a simple marriage, the amount is huge. You ponder over it. She says they're doing it out of love. But still it's so enormous-- and heavy also-- a voice from within says. Money bogs you down although it's their money.

You pick up a concept from the book thats resting on your chest. "Your self worth is not connected to your behaviour". Mmmm...! It's a new idea. It makes you feel warm and you begin to mull over it. Slowly everything begins to fade. You are drifting into a slumber.

Ha ha haa... that's me!

No! This ain't me.....

Sorry to interrupt...It's your wife on line one...Something about a mistaken number on your winning lottery ticket..!

This is where I live....!

Ancestral house..!

The Golden rules of writing

Khushwanth singh was the editor of 'The Illustrated weekly of India' for some 10 years or so and the magazine was quite popular during his tenure although its dead and buried now. When someone asked the reason for his success, he said that he followed a three pronged approach with his readers--- inform, amuse and provoke.

I think he follows the same principle with all his writings; any writer worth his salt would consciously or unconsciously follow the same rules. Inform-- Amuse-- and Provoke? Mmmm, quite interesting!

Going crazy for a change...

Took a day off yesterday. Did something crazy day before. My vehicle ran out of petrol on the way and i had to push it nearly a mile to a petrol bunk. And after filling up the fuel, the vehicle refused to start. It was late evening and the drizzle had turned into a steady downpour. Most of the mechanic shops in the surrounding areas were shutting down because it's the month of ramzan. I got hold of a mechanic but he couldn't get the vehicle started. And there i was, stranded five miles from home with a heavy scooter, enjoying the cold shower from the skies. What would any sane person do in such a situation? Park the vehicle somewhere and take an auto home.

Here comes the zany stuff. I pushed my vehicle for nearly five miles in the rain and reached home at 10 in the night! Got up the next day with a terrible headache and exhaustion. Called up office and applied for a leave. And slept the whole day like a log of wood. Now i'm back to work fresh like a dew drenched flower.

Ahem... life looks good now.

Drizzly blues....

Mmmm..... i feel as if a heavy rock is resting on me and i'm unable to break free. This was my state of mind a few years ago but of late, i thought i had come out of it. It has returned, maybe with the approaching winter. Cynicism it ain't--just an observation.

Time is on a tremendous hurry. Sometimes i feel so constricted and suffocated because of lack of time that i wonder if i did a right thing in coming to this IT field. Innumerable things wait for attention but i have to postpone them due to lack of time. This industry pays high but also demands more of your time in return. Days just whizz past and at the end of two weeks or so, i wonder what i've done with my life in these two weeks. Nothing much has been accomplished. The status quo has remained. My plans are still on paper and i've thrown a chunk of my life down the gutter in exchange for some money in my account, and some shaky support to rest for a while. Is it worthy?

My meditations are patchy. I want to devote more hours to spiritual practices but somehow, my inertia drags me down. I know how beneficial meditations are, how a devoted practice can lift me up and elevate me beyond all my troubles, but why on earth can't i meditate? This really frustrates me.

My shelf is full of books but i find no time to even browse through them. May be i'm in a hurry to finish reading them all and am impatient, but some books are there from ages.

I'm yet to come to grips with the work i do in the office. If someone catches me and demands a clear explanation about my work, i'll be left searching for words. This is a huge field, and i've just entered. I feel helpless if i don't totally understand the work i'm involved in. Sometimes the job overwhelms me with its enormity but somehow things are going on. I want to take up studies and finish a certification exam in Networking but.... same excuse--time constraints.

I want to write but all i can manage at the moment is the entries i post here--and i'm not regular here also.

Maybe I'll laught at myself for writing all these, after some days( or weeks ) but for the moment, this is my reality.

In the face of disasters.....

Mother nature has yawned once more and 30,000 people are under the rubble in a matter of minutes. You can train terrorists in camps, poison their minds through your perverted doctrines, arm them with the most sophisticated weapons and send them across the borders to bleed your neighbouring country. But when such a force strikes you, what on earth can you do? What chance do you have against the fury of nature?

The same can be said about that idiot Bush. He can attack any country in the name of whatever bullshit, bully every other nation in the world, either through military might or threats of economic sanctions, but when the might of nature thunders on the shores, what can he do except show his shameless face on tv, appearing apologetic and helpless?

Innocents die along with scoundrels when disaster strikes. But that's life, i think. I remember a master who said, 'The whole of humanity is one and interconnected. When someone does a good ( an invention, for example), the whole mankind benefits, and whenever there are atrocities, everyone has to bear the brunt.'

Life is complex; and until we become capable of grasping its meaning we have no other option but to pray.

Who on earth is this Murphy, anyway?

May be He's just an idea, but the thoughts associated with him are simply superb.
Sample this:

Don't tell anyone about your troubles. Half of them don't care, and the other half are glad it happened to you.

Or this:

Being popular is like being in a crowded elevator: you are just a fart away from being hated.

You can spend your life pondering over something like this:

The statement below is true
The statement above is false

In the current situation, this is my favorite:

Any organization is like a tree full of monkeys, all on different limbs at different levels. Some monkeys are climbing up, some down. The monkeys on top look down and see a tree full of smiling faces. The monkeys on the bottom look up and see nothing but assholes.

Ain't it true?

I wanna walk down there...

On an unknown road, what are you searching for?

What you thought as far off is just next to you.

Disjointed thoughts

Are we too close to our emotions? That's why we can't see them, know what they are! Fear. What's it? Love! Anger!

I'm scared of something. I Love something else. Certain things make me revolt. Why?

What is hatred? Where do these things come from? Are they just some chemical combinations in my brain?

A stranger

She comes to the canteen 10 minutes before lunch time, sits alone at a table and eats silently. And by the time the other employees start arriving, she finishes and leaves. She has dark expressive eyes. I've hardly seen her talk to anyone in the office. Among chatterboxes, show offs and pretentious extroverts, she stands out as a unique person.

I wonder at her motivation.

The Devil inside everyone...

Saw a damn good movie--- the devil's advocate. Some movies linger on in your mind --they haunt you, you'll mull over it long after the movie is over. This is one such movie.

Keanu reeves is a successful lawyer in florida who hasn't yet lost a case. He gets an offer from a reputed law firm in Newyork and he moves over there. The head of the firm( Al pacino, as fantastic as ever ) becomes a kind of mentor to him but he's also a sinister and mysterious guy. He plays the behind the scenes role as keanu takes up cases in which the clients are damn guilty, and gets them freed. The big money, luxurious life style, the idea of escaping from a humble past in a small town--- these are his motivations. Though his conscience bites him at times, he brushes it aside and plunges deep into his work. And he doesn't notice that he's moving away from his beloved wife. He's also attracted towards a seductive colleague and as he moves up the ladder of success, his downfall begins. The wife starts hallucinating and before long, becomes a wreck but he's too busy to take care of her. And one day she kills herself.

Someone warns him of the firms reputation and other shady business interests but all those who grow suspicious get killed. And then comes the revealation. His mother who's visiting him, recognises Al pacino as his dad.

The reality however is more deeper. When keanu confronts Al pacino, he gets the shock of his life. Pacino is none other than Satan and the law firm is his device to protect evil and crush all that's good and noble.

The story does a somersault and shifts back in time when keanu is in the toilet of a florida court room, looking into a mirror and wondering if his client is actually guilty of molesting his student or not. Nothing has happened yet-- he hasn't gone to Newyork, his wife is still sitting in the courtroom, and he's yet to begin his arguement. He's still the small town lawyer, desiring money, success, status. But he decides to dump it. He withdraws from the case and walks out of the courtroom with his wife.

This is everyone's story. There's a keanu in everyone of us, hiding behind in the darkness of our heart. The desire for success, fame, adulation and money at any cost, the thrill of hitting it off big time-- these are latent possiblilities in every human being. To overcome these and stick to what we think is right, that seems to be the struggle here.

To succeed, earn money, fame and admiration--- these are goals and desires we all cannot deny. And we have a right to pursue these. But can we give up success if it is tainted? Can we chuck it all if we know that it's going to take us away from all our values? Can we resist the temptation?

In the last scene of the movie, as keanu leaves the courtroom, a journalist friend stops him and asks for an interview. He wants to put him on the headline in the next day's newspaper. Keanu ponders for a while, looks at his wife and says, 'Okay'.

The reporter transforms slowly into the devil, Al pacino who drawls with a wicked smile, 'Vanity-- my favorite weapon'!

30's blues

It's always the case. You look at something you don't have and wonder what it is, how it might be. You crave for it, work towards getting it if possible, and one day you attain it also. After a period of honeymoon, your mind begins to look for other unknown things. What you attained is now no longer a challenge, a mystery-- it's 'familiar'. Does it happen with every other thing? Mmmm.. yes, to a large extent. May be it's a natural law, i don't know. Maybe there are exceptions.

When i was a kid, the elders looked formidable. I wanted to grow up and be like them, do the things they did, take up responsiblilities, take decisions. When i was in college i wanted to get a job, become independent, build a career. When i was single, the family man looked as if he was perching on a high altar. It never occured to me that maybe they too were looking at a distant horizon and seeking what they didn't have.

Today i turned 30. But i don't feel like i'm 30. How does a 30 year old feel like? What's he supposed to feel like? I feel dumb. Ha ha.

They say, When a man reaches 60 it's like a completion of a cycle. A new life begins after that. If so, i've completed half of the cycle. Maybe i'll be a pa in an year or two. It looks unbelievable!

Two perspectives....

Read an article about gigolos. It turns out that they are different from their female counterparts. They quite enjoy it, it seems,and they do it for fun and fast money. Difficult to stand in their shoes and think how it is like.

A couple attend our meditation classes. The husband walks on artificial legs and we never asked them about this. Last tuesday they spoke about the accident 7 years back that left him crippled. His eyes were a bit moist, so were hers but what amazed me was this.'It could've been worse' she said,' the bus ran over his legs and not on his body. I'm thankful that he's still alive.' He too joked about his disability and said " Now that incident has become a landmark for us. If we remember some other incident we refer to it as, before the accident or after the accident, like B.C and A.D"

Their strength and resilence are inspirational.

Life beautiful

I'm starting a new life altogether. This wasn't expected until now but that's the way life is----it's what happens to you when you're busy with other plans.

In another 2 months--november 28th to be precise, i'll be getting married. Two years back i never had an inkling that i'd be stepping in as a householder. My mentality then never permitted me to think in these terms. I wanted to be a hippie--if not literally, at least metaphorically. No responsibilities, not being answerable to anyone, just free like a bird.

I think this is more of an attitude than a reality. Freedom! You can be in bondage yet be free--Aung san su ki of burma comes to mind. Or Nelson mandela. Or you can be out there roaming the world without a care, yet be a slave to a thousand odd things.

Archana and i met five years ago when i began to explore the spiritual world under the guidance of a great master. We came closer two years ago when i took up some work in my master's organisation. And now we've decided to run the race together.

She's more cool, confident, mature, wise and humble than i am. She's life bound. And she loves me.

Life indeed looks beautiful now.

Finding a root

Yesterday morning i got the confirmation for my job in this company. After 6 months of internship, finally i am a regular employee. There was some speculation that i should start looking for a job elsewhere, but that trouble is saved now.
I had a romantic idea of my working life. It was something like sitting at my balcony and spinning off short stories while simultaneosly working on a future bestseller novel. In between, i'd take short breaks and lose myself in the hillstations of himalayas or the beaches of kerala, find my muse and come back to my desk with renewed vigour and fresh ideas. Meanwhile my stories would get published in important magazines across the world and the cheques would arrive by post No stress, no uncertainty, no major pains.
This idea hasn't died yet, it's in coma. I'm sure it'll spring back to life some day but until then, software testing will pay my bills.

Ganesha

With august, the festival season begins in our country. This is the season of rains, well, the later part of the rainy season. People have a number of excuses to celebrate now. Ganesha festival is in full swing at the moment and with ganesha, there are a lot of things entwined in memory.

Lord ganesha was a favourite in my younger days. I think he's the favourite god of any youngster, with his pot belly, elephant face, his love for sweets and all those stories of his boyish pranks.

We waited for the ganesha festival, why, there wasn't a concrete reason. A week before the festival day, our preparations would begin. I remember standing in the queue in wet, overcast evenings for our 10 litres of kerosene and then sit with mom and sisters upto midnight, watching them prepare sweets and other delicacies over a pan of hot oil, trying hard not to fall asleep, enjoying the energy of that atmosphere.

On the day, mom would give all of us an oil bath and meanwhile Dad would bring the clay idol from the market along with all the items for worship. I would be all excited, preparing the stand on which the lord would be placed on a heap of rice, with two small plantain shoots tied to the legs of the stand, decorated with a variety of flowers and mango leaves, all the dishes and fruits placed before him in big plates. Mom would be still busy in the kitchen while we welcomed the guests-- relatives and friends. Dad would dress up like a priest--bare chested with a white dhoti, hair neatly combed backwards, looking pious. At noon the worship would begin, not an elobarate one but for me then, quite impressive. We would fall at the feet of the lord praying for a variety of things and mom would always tell, 'Ask for sucess in your exams. Ask him for knowledge and wisdom'.

The heavy food in your belly would put you to sleep but on that day, we would set out, a group of 15 children with the mission of having the darshan of 108 ganeshas in different houses, as per the custom. We would go the houses of complete strangers, prostrate before the lord, sit there for a moment, recieve the sacred food offered by those people and then move on. By evening we would be back-- I doubt if we really visited 108 houses.

The lord would be given a farewell in the evening after another round of worship. We would take him in a small but devout procession to the nearby well and an uncle would walk down the steps carefully, immerse the one foot tall idol in the waters thrice and then let go. The lord would return to his source with an assurance of coming back after another year.

I remember going to bed every year with a heavy heart. Ganesha wasn't an idol to be brought from the market every year, worshipped and then immersed in some well. He was a dear friend.

Times have changed so have our perceptions. Now my eight year old nephew gets all excited on these festival days as I used to some 20 years ago. For me this is just another occasion now to take a day off from work, take part in the rituals, have a good food with the family and return to work the next day. That energy, that excitement and belongingness ganesha brought with him--- I don't miss them. There are other things in life now that make me forget these small details. But still I wish i could grasp all those fleeting emotions at least once in an year, feel one with everyone, feel good and involved, feel a lot of things that don't have a name.

Ganesha is a friend. He's more than a friend. I wish I renew my friendship with him.

Elderly advice

A long time ago I met an old man in a far off unknown city. We chatted for a while and I asked him how come he was so peaceful and happy inspite of having nothing much to be happy about. He must've been living on alms, I thought. He smiled through his wrinkles and said- 'Want to be happy? Then don't cry when you win and don't celebrate when you lose'

On Death

Osho once said, 'Death is the most mysterious and interesting thing on earth simply because it's uncertain and certain at the same time. It's certain that one day it will come. But it's uncertain when it comes.'

Death and deprivation are a part of life whether they happen through the hurricane, katrina in America or they attack in the form of stampede in bagdad. A soldier who shoots himself dead in Delhi, unable to bear the stress of work, civilians who jump off burning buildings 280 floors below to their death, policemen who are bumped off by insurgents in the jungles of south India, kids who're blown to shreds by land mines in Africa, or school children taken hostage and killed in Moscow--- whereever death strikes, it takes a human life. It doesn't know politics, it doesn't care for the right and wrong, it knows no religion, race, caste or creed. It's a great leveller. When it takes leave, it allows us to debate the right and wrong, to decide on which side of the fence we are.

For me human life and dignity comes first--patriotism and heroism are somewhere down the line. If my best friend murders someone i won't support him. And if someone i don't agree with does a good act, i will applaud him. And i think we all do it. Or do we?

A thought

Yeah, this is true for me and may be for many others.
We always crave for appreciation although we hate to admit it. We want to be admired and welcomed by others. What others think of one makes a very big difference to anyone. If there is rejection in the other person's eyes it affects our self-esteem and if he/she admires, then everything should be okay with us. It's difficult to be at ease even if there's no one to appreciate and accept us no matter what. Only the enlightened ones live like this--or psychopaths for whom nothing matters.
It's good to say that I'll be cool even if nobody gives a damn, even if I'm rejected. But practically it requires tremendous mental control to be immune to other's opinion of us.
If I observe my daydreams this one factor becomes glaring--- most of them revolve around my truimphs in the material world, with all those who matter watching me and applauding either directly or silently. Very few of them concern things I do just for the fun of doing them, or just because I love to do them without the expectation of any reward.

This is no James bond stuff...

I know an elderly person who doesn't look like James Bond but who was a spy a long time ago. He's blind in one eye and only recently someone told me that once when he was in enemy territory, someone knocked him from behind and his eye just popped out.

*******
Pakistan is executing an Indian spy, Sarabjit singh, on charges of espionage. His family members say he's not a spy but a poor farmer who strayed across the border in a drunken state some 15 years ago, and the authorities have mistaken him for another spy, Manjit singh. The authorities say that he's been working for the Indian intelligence service, RAW,and he's been operating under the name Manjit singh and was responsible for the lahore bombings in 1990.

The family members have threatened mass suicide on the day he is hanged. The indian govt. is intervening in this issue and has started the diplomatic proceedures to get him released.

What is the truth?

When we think of these people--soldiers, spies, jehadis--whether they are on the right side of the law or not, whether they're guilty or innocent--people who are facing the battle of life and death, who can be whisked out of existence any moment ....and when I think for a moment about myself sitting inside the AC room in a software company in India's silicon valley, Bangalore, worrying about my next pay rise or if my job will be made permanent--- what a huge difference.

Stories

One morning a friend calls her up and says, 'Soni, I saw someone in Daman last weekend. Believe me, it was him. No doubt at all, he only had a long beard.'
Soni sets out to Daman. She gives a chocolate bar to her 6 year old daughter and tells her to listen to granny and not create trouble. She's not sure if she can find him but still goes in search of him.

This was a short story in kannada I read many years ago. It's one of the best pieces of fiction(?) I've ever read. The author is Uma rao, a freelance writer and copy editor and the name of the story is 'The path leading to the sea'.
Soni stayes in a lodge close to the sea in Daman. For the next two days she goes to every nook and corner of the coastal city hoping to have a glimpse of him. She remembers how he suddenly disappeared one day and never returned. How she had feared for the worst, how her mother would tell her, 'Soni, don't sit in a corner all day, you're pregnant, baby, this will affect the child, please come out, we'll go for a walk.'
Soni fails to locate him. In a last attempt she visits a very old jail in daman and goes through the records. NO luck. Then she goes to the adjoining cemetary. A young soilder from portugal is buried there. She stands in front of his grave and imagines what his life could've been. May be he had a wife back in portugal who would sit in her balcony and look at the sea, waiting for the ship which would bring him back. Maybe she was pregnant then.Maybe she's still waiting.
The next day she returns to Mumbai. On the way she stops by the cemetary and goes to the soilder's grave. She places a bunch of flowers on the slab and reflects for a moment about her desperate search for someone whom she may never find. She prays for the soilder and returns without looking back, wiping away a tear.
Before boarding the bus, she buys a chocolate bar for her daughter.

**********************
Feeling uninvolved in the work. May be I want to completely know what I am doing. A dialogue from a movie rings somewhere in my mind--'those who don't give results should not be in the team.'

***************
Time's on a hurry. Weekends come so fast, before you battle an eye lid, another weekend is here.

Interesting faces

* An old beggar who stands outside my office. His wife will usually be sitting at a distance, watching him. He always asks for more even after someone gives him a rupee or two. Once a friend gave him 10 rs. and the old man put it inside his pocket and started afresh.
* A middle aged surgeon who has quit his practice and recently joined our company as a software developer. He's aloof, finishes his lunch in a corner at the cafetaria, and usually walks the length and breadth of the office in between writing code.
*The boy who brings us tea every hour or two. He's the most cheerful person in the entire company, always walks with a song on his lips and a smile, and on a recent office tour, allegedly emptied two bottles of wine and danced like crazy.
* The guy who's writing this. More about him later. ( inserted by the computer!)
* My one year old niece. She calls every one--even the dog on the street-- as 'mamma'.
* Two street dogs that come to our house every night to eat the leftovers. They also relieve their itch by taking turns to nibble each other behind the ears.

When Love incarnates...

Buddha on the road

Every evening when I wind up my work and return home through the evening rush hour, I come across a donkey on the streets who makes me go green with envy. He just stands on the edge of pavement facing the road, doing nothing. He looks tremendously contented, absolutely at peace with himself and with the world. There's not a sign of anxiety on his face, no tension in his eyes, and he just stands there unbothered about the mad rush around him. I wonder about this guy's internal landscape,what he might be thinking looking at the fools who go through life in a frenzied hurry, not exactly knowing what they are after.

Blogging away my weekend blues....

A nice thought from Julia cameron:

"Leap and the net will appear"

* * * * *

Today morning I was on my way to the office when I saw a middle aged man lying by the roadside, struggling with an epileptic attack. I would've just passed by but two young men on their bike stopped and rushed to help him. I too followed them. They gave him a bunch of keys and I put my bike's key in his other hand. He struggled for a minute and recovered slowly. We helped him get up. He started in his choking voice about his ailment, how this was his third attack that morning, how he required rs. 90 for the tablets, etc. Those guys thought for a while and put rs. 20 in his hand and went away. I gave him another 20 but he said he only wanted the medicine, not the money and it would be very kind of me if I could help him get those tablets.
As I drove back, I constantly thought about that man. What if he were just acting to extract money ( he recovered so fast ! I recalled ). I shouldn't have given him so much --I had added another 100 rs. to the initial 20.

What if he was not acting and was really in need of medication?

Why is it that I dream up situations in which those who matter watch me perform such acts and express their admiration silently?

This troubles me more. I couldn't say no when he pleaded for money. I gave him money because I couldn't say 'no', more than because I felt for his misery.

* * * * *

Today is the day of worshipping Goddess Mahalakshmi. I didn't even remotely think that there could be worlds beyond what we see, hear, touch etc, and there are beings there like us, better than us or worse than us. This is something that has to be directly experienced than argued upon: like you can't convince a blind man about the splendour of the rainbow, he will know only when he 'sees'.

But how do you see?

I'll write emphatically about this only when I 'see' for myself. Right now I only have the faith that I can see if I sincerely follow my master.

Gump is a master.

This is interesting!
Chuang tzu, a chinese master has said this:
' In order to find happiness, Man has to transcend his desire for success and wealth and also his fear of failure and poverty.'
Mmmmmm?
Yesterday night I watched a portion of Forrest Gump, for the umpteenth time. Gump is relieved of his service in the army and sent home. He holds his termination letter and says 'And that was eeet. My service in the army just ended like thaaat.' And he just runs home.
Gump is a master but he doesn't know it. On the surface he's a fool but he has all the qualities of a master. I may be relieved of my work in a month or two. I'm not sure if I show a similar response. Bet I'd love to.

The day after...

Independence day brings back memories of the celebrations in my school days. It was something we all looked forward to although there wasn't much stuff in it. One incident is still vivid in memory. A friend who was always short of money asked me to lend him a rupee so that he could buy an icecream cone. I had the money but wanted to buy a chocolate bar for myself, so I lied that I had none. I ate the chocolate bar but his disappointment stayed in me--I couldn't forgive myself for this. I wonder where all those people are now.
Yesterday was somehow melancholic. I saw two good movies but was out of mood in the end. Sometimes it happens. You get so involved in a movie or a book that the characters become real for you, you don't want the tragedy to happen, you wish they'd fared better, you forget that they are just imaginary people. "Road to Perdition" sucked me in totally. I need more detachment, not only from imaginary people but also from the real ones.
I'm waiting for some magic to happen. There are many things that I want in life and somehow unconsciously, I wish they materialise on their own. Postponement is my current obsession.

Feeling out of sorts today!

Only for the highly intelligent

Those with a iq more than 100, please visit the url below.
http://www.pagetutor.com/idiot/idiot.html

And don't forget to laugh.

Me,myself and ........

Sometime back I kept a journal for a year or two and whenever I had trouble I'd vomit into it--so to say. It contained many dark things but strangely it made for a highly interesting reading. It was very authentic but I couldn't share it with anyone, so when a friend went through it I was mad at him. Most of it, I've thrown away and some I disguised in a few stories I wrote during that period. I doubt if I write all those things here. I doubt if this kind of censoring hinders the genuineness of my writings here.
Nonetheless, I'm enjoying these posts and even if nobody bothers to read my blog, I for one will read it.
There are a lot of changes back home. Dad is no longer the tiger he used to be. He's more subdued these days since he retired from service. He's more relaxed ever since I came out of my hippie mindset and decided to settle down. I don't know to what extent I'm responsible for other's attitudes towards life. But we are more friendly and approachable to each other now.
Mom want's me to take more responsibilities on one hand, and at the same time wants me to listen to her. She's quite mysterious. I'm curious about her silent strength and motivation.

Yeah, I'm trying to impress all those who read these lines. So what!

Once I read a fantastic novel in which the hero is somewhat of a recluse. We hardly see him in the novel but the entire story revolves around him. Those who know him try to find him but he keeps escaping into his solitude. In the accounts narrated by these people and in their efforts to reach him, a very compelling portrait of the hero emerges.
Okay okay, I want the same thing to happen here. I'm the hero and in the accounts of the people who know me, a portrait of mine shall emerge.
( Ignore the last paragraph. The computer has taken over and is adding these lines on its own.)

The weekend is here. Hurray! A business man,(vijay mallya, I think) said "I've been successful because I don't have this 'thank god, it's friday' attitude. I love my job"
Point noted. But still it's friday and I feel like dancing.

I want to fly over there....

Have you ever stood on those shores and become one with the blue?
Have you ever listened to the silence that whispers just for you?
Have you been awed by the glory of Nature when your mind refuses to chatter?
When God touches you with tender hands, Life and its worries-do they matter?

Trip, blogs and the weather

Good things are happening on their own. I seriously wanted to stay at home and miss the mysore trip but there was very little chance that I could afford to say no to my family, having done that many times in the past. I told my friends ( with the usual scowl ), dreamt not going anywhere, wrote it here in my posts, and good golly, the trip's cancelled! Three days of laziness after quite a long time! I'm gonna love it.
Got to read some good blogs. When I began browsing for blogs, I thought this was a medium for all the frustated morons out there who were desperately searching for a place to howl their lungs out. Many blogs actually confirmed this but since two days I'm browsing through some real good sites. Have added one or two in my links and will add more soon.This is a real phenomenon-- this blog thing. So many sensible and intellingent voices sharing their thoughts and opinions with the whole world!
Bangalore' s back to its pleasant old days. The traffic's horrible, not to speak of the bustling crowds and pollution but the weather gods are kind on us.

Paradise..... I think so.

Too wicked

Why is HONEY golden in color?

A) Because of the Sun the flowers receive?
B) Because Flower Pollen is naturally Golden?
C) Because it's manufactured that way?
D) I don't know.


The answer may be found below.

haahaahaaaa

umm, ramblings, sort of...

* there's a problem with the new build of linux. No work since saturday. Today? God knows. Feeling wasted.
* going to mysore this weekend with family. Hate to travel, feel like sitting in my room and read. Or lie down, stare at the ceiling and dream.
* Last night was full of dreams. Saw all the people I know in various situations. Everyone were there. Heard, you see your whole life in one shot just before you die.
* Anand's invited for his daughter's naming ceremony. Lot of activities on independance day-aug 15. No independence for me. May be I have to be here in the office. Can't take a holiday since my internship period is yet to be completed.
* Anand doesn't look like a father. Only when he carries his one year old in his arms do you realise this idiot is a dad.
* Lot of work pending. Need to translate my newsletter. Five hours into the night for sure. Car's battery has gone bust. A bit of shopping to do.
* Archu' s a bit sad. Will talk to her today. I was too much preoccupied with other things and hardly thought about her but blurted over the phone that I miss her so much. Felt bad for being such a damn liar. I miss nothing. I'm a detached balloon. She knows it.

Butterflies in your belly

There's a new disease doing the rounds----it's called mondayitis. Working people suffer this on monday mornings after enjoying a weekend ---- I'm not joking, its serious. I used to get this when I began work in this office but now, i think i've made my peace with mondayitis. Someone gave a concoction and I'll share it here soon.
Yesterday was good and bad. Good 'cause I met all my friends and had a nice time. Bad 'cause a long forgotten nightmare revisited. I thought it had vanished but it was there, alive and thriving.


Two good thoughts ;

A friend says ' If you find danger, step into it.'

My master says ' Failure is a part of sucess. In fact, it's the first sign post you see on the road to success.'

A new day....

Yesterday was good--- I finally did what I had been planning to do for a long time----start blogging. Then I went home and in between all the busy work dreamt a lot about this blogging thing---- scores of people visit my blog and post comments, I become a part of the blogging community and make a lot of friends, there are offers of making serious money here but I turn it down(geee... i wanna keep this clean and non commercial, you know), we exchange serious information through this platform and soon this becomes something really significant, blah blah blah! In between a seemingly sane voice whispered,' Just shut up and do some serious writing. We'll see if you can change the world through your rantings but first, get things clear in between your ears.' I always listen to this voice but a bit late--- after enjoying the adrenaline rush of my day dreams.
Today I'm at my office though it's a weekend holiday. We are running against a deadline, but strangely the work is yet to start though it's well past noon. Did a good thing that I came late. If the systems don't get ready in an hour I'll be leaving. Before that I think I'll share some thoughts.
What exactly am I going to post here is yet to be finalised. First things first. This will be purely personal so at times I'm not going to censor or edit. Raw things may get posted here but I'll make sure it doesn't stink. I get a lot of jokes from friends and the really good ones will find their way here. I'll write about my job, my dreams of writing, my friends and family, my girlfriend, of course the weather, about George Bush(poor guy), about my conversations with my bike, about my daydreams, my nightmares and some real interesting stuff that doesn't belong to this world.
A friend sent this from across the shores:
Two wise men are sitting near an icecream parlour( okay make it blair and bush).
Blair asks,' how was the exam?' Bush licks the cream from the corner of his lips and says,'Good. but i had a hard time answering that damn question about the past tense of 'think'. I thought, thought, thought and finally wrote 'thunk'.
I think I like this guy--- Bush. Real funny idiot.

About rains

Today the topic is only about rains. Nothing else.
We are entering the peak of monsoons here in bangalore, and last week, Mumbai had to live through the worst nightmare in its recent memory. Heard on TV that many people were on the roads for more than 16 hours before they could reach home. Mumbai was totally at the mercy of the weather gods--- it's always at the mercy of some God-- if not the weather god, then the mafia god or the political gods.
Mumbai always haunts you for the rest of your life if you visit it even once. It's a ghost city. A city that's too fast for ordinary mortals. You can't forget it's tasty vadaa pav, the ever overcrowded local trains, the tremendous mix of various cultures in its belly, the feeling of loneliness you experience in a crowd and strangely, the feeling of being at home even if you are alone.
I feel Mumbai has reached its bursting point.

drizzle, rain and everything in between.

This madness of connecting with the rains has remained with me since my childhood. Even now when it rains, I feel like taking a walk through the falling sheets and I do it sometimes. When I'm cruising on my bike if it starts raining, nothing like it. Archu has suffered this crazyness of mine more than once, getting thoroughly drenched sitting on the pillion.

The tea was, as usual fantastic but by the time I finished, it started raining heavily. I had to wait there for more than 20 minutes before the rain tapered down to the enchanting drizzle it has been since this morning.

This was the place a friend visited last year. It' s an ancient fort of the maratha kings, built some 300 years ago, situated somewhere in the heartland of Maharashtra. This place reminds me of another beautiful place in my native which I'd visit every summer until 5 years ago. It looked something similar to this picture, the only difference being you stand on the tip of that cliff and as you look out, what you see is not the valley bathed in mist but a vast expanse of the arabian sea, with the crystal blue of a clear sky on top.

hello world

yaawn. It's drizzling outside and I'm freezing inside my cubicle, waiting for the work to restart. It doesn't seem to start in this millenia and one look outside the window, I'm tempted to take a walk down the wet street to the little tea shop, greet the little rustic who looks as if he had a bath last christmas and order a 'half tea'. I think I'll do that in a minute and then continue this piece.