Drat! I am not getting the requisite vacant space, if it can be called that, to write and so I will have to wait for some shift to come up where I can eke out some time to write about some of the things that have been running through my mind for quite a while now.
Last Sunday, May 15th, I attended the Bangalore Marathon which was one hell of a mega event. I ran in the celebration run that required running for a stretch of 7 km under not so hot conditions though it was a good 35 degrees that time of the day but I kept on egging myself by thinking had it been in Delhi at this time I wouldn’t even have thought of running.
I had been totally out of practice for a month or more then because I had stopped going for my morning jogs once she felt she did not need anymore slimming. However the sight of 12000 people running along you and some of them much older and more courageous was enough to not let the spirit flag and I managed to complete it without much ado and I guess I must have had a decent four figure finish which one of my colleagues refuses to believe. He says I must have been in the top half as I say but in the bottom drawer of the race. I don’t buy that.
I got a lot of plusses out of it. It has lifted my spirits for sure because prior to it I had been acting like someone who just lost the thread of it all. There was an indescribable pleasure on reaching the finishing line. This race was more about fighting it out, not giving up and I am happy I could last as I was hoping to. It didn’t at all matter that by the time I could reach the starting line, almost half the people had already taken off because there no one was competing against anyone. Everyone was running for something though it may have varied from person to person. I am still trying to figure out what I was running for and honestly I still don’t know except that I feel much better than I was before the event.
Somehow the immense pain that lingers on in the ribs and the chest does not matter. The fact that I still cannot stretch my legs fully too fails to make any impression because I believe the race was in one way or the other a sort of a RESET button which hopefully has reset a lot of things to a point from where I can hope to find my bearings again and fast too. I look forward to another one of them and hope that the next time I won’t be looking out for reasons to join. I will join it just for the pleasure of perseverance and the opportunity to be among a large crowd of extremely determined people.
I know I should be doing that in the future definitely and if not for any reason mentioned above then for that one reason that belies all skepticisms. It was the sight of a 72 year old man completing the 42 km run and the whole stadium erupting in a joyous uproar followed by an impromptu standing ovation. It was the sight of one man making everyone’s day…and suddenly the 7 km didn’t look that heroic anymore.
Real courage is not about a man with a gun in his hand. It's when you know you're licked before you begin but you begin anyway and you see it through no matter what.
---to kill a mocking bird
Thursday, May 19, 2005
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
A bit of light
She raced headlong into the tunnel which was now her second home. Coming to think of it, she never had a first home anyway and no family tree to boot. The thought of it made her realize it wasn’t the ideal time to ponder over such trivialities for she was just her with no strings attached. She was a result of a minute difference between two entities over something and that’s all she knew or cared for. However, there was something she was sure of and that was her enlightened self. She made sure it never got unacknowledged because that was the only thing she could be proud of in the whole wide world of hers where time was everything and you were only as good as your last clocked time. So, right then she had a job to do. She had to rush past innumerable others like and unlike her in quick time.
Even as she raced ahead, she could not help glancing over her and looking at the competition. She saw him huffing and puffing beside her and managed to suppress a smile. He was the exact opposite of him. So dark, you could miss him if she weren’t around to spell out the difference. She curbed an impulsive ‘hi’ as she realized she wasn’t talking to him anymore. It hadn’t always been like that. They used to be friends. They had met a couple of times while running errands and she had managed to strike up a conversation whenever they had the same destination to reach. They complimented each other well and got along well and fast too till the day she told him how he depended on her for his existence as well as identification.
It had been a mistake mostly but she never realized it. He just left after that day though meeting occasionally, but mostly seeing through each other whenever their paths crossed.
She suddenly yearned to talk to him again, strike up a conversation like those days. She wanted to apologize, tell him that she had realized her folly and that she was just as indescribable without him. She wanted to tell him how no one could tell her apart when she would be with the fellow enlightened ones.
She had to decide quickly. He was already deviating in his path. His destination probably was different. As she turned he deviated too and she lost him completely. She wanted to go after him but she had a task to do and she could not dare to turn away from it. She erased all thoughts of him and rushed headlong into the pitch darkness that would be her destination. It was coming closer. She could not stop even though she wanted to. The end always scared her. It was hardly the reward for her good work but it happened every time. She knew she would vanish into nothingness the moment the job was done and would reappear some day somewhere else to again carry on from where she left every time.
The end came like it always did. The cold, brutal and thankless end. That didn’t bother her as much as her worthless life. She never knew if she would ever be able to help anyone anywhere.
She closed her eyes. The darkness engulfed her.
Meanwhile the screen of a monitor flickered to life somewhere. A message had come and was flashing bringing with it hope.
She had done her bit. That’s what bits do. Bringing people close without ever knowing it. If only she knew that she wouldn’t die a death of despair every time.
Even as she raced ahead, she could not help glancing over her and looking at the competition. She saw him huffing and puffing beside her and managed to suppress a smile. He was the exact opposite of him. So dark, you could miss him if she weren’t around to spell out the difference. She curbed an impulsive ‘hi’ as she realized she wasn’t talking to him anymore. It hadn’t always been like that. They used to be friends. They had met a couple of times while running errands and she had managed to strike up a conversation whenever they had the same destination to reach. They complimented each other well and got along well and fast too till the day she told him how he depended on her for his existence as well as identification.
It had been a mistake mostly but she never realized it. He just left after that day though meeting occasionally, but mostly seeing through each other whenever their paths crossed.
She suddenly yearned to talk to him again, strike up a conversation like those days. She wanted to apologize, tell him that she had realized her folly and that she was just as indescribable without him. She wanted to tell him how no one could tell her apart when she would be with the fellow enlightened ones.
She had to decide quickly. He was already deviating in his path. His destination probably was different. As she turned he deviated too and she lost him completely. She wanted to go after him but she had a task to do and she could not dare to turn away from it. She erased all thoughts of him and rushed headlong into the pitch darkness that would be her destination. It was coming closer. She could not stop even though she wanted to. The end always scared her. It was hardly the reward for her good work but it happened every time. She knew she would vanish into nothingness the moment the job was done and would reappear some day somewhere else to again carry on from where she left every time.
The end came like it always did. The cold, brutal and thankless end. That didn’t bother her as much as her worthless life. She never knew if she would ever be able to help anyone anywhere.
She closed her eyes. The darkness engulfed her.
Meanwhile the screen of a monitor flickered to life somewhere. A message had come and was flashing bringing with it hope.
She had done her bit. That’s what bits do. Bringing people close without ever knowing it. If only she knew that she wouldn’t die a death of despair every time.
Monday, May 09, 2005
'Monitor'y Concerns
...Below is what happened when I tried my hand at poetry :)
I guess if you keep it simple it ain't poetry.As Afaq used to say "it is poetry only if it is infinitely interpretable".
So I guess my next attempt would be to write a poem as abstruse as possible using a lot of oxymorons...like cold sunlight,fried ice-cream and sensible SS to name a few.
Time to let white cylindricals pearls soaked in in unmistakably familiar grime to travel in extremely sinuous labyrinths of a cave whose outer walls have been contracting and expanding for the past 24 years.....well time to eat chicken curry with rice. Well it's only a hint of how obnoxiously esoteric one can get.
Time for some more poems.....will write.
How my eyes burn!!
Wish I could use them
turn by turn.
Staring so long,
is it a life gone wrong?
It stares back!
With a smirk, it says
“Whatever you do, you lose this race”
Day in and day out
I come back to this hideout.
I don’t have a choice.
I may get paid butI don’t have a voice.
From the time I wake up
till the time I collapse.
There is nothing humane
it’s all a digital mishap.
Somehow I reconcile,
drop ideas of exile.
I get cheerful again
thinking my worries were in vain,
I come back to my ‘work’,
but know there will be no succour
as I sit down resigned
and switch on the Monitor.
I guess if you keep it simple it ain't poetry.As Afaq used to say "it is poetry only if it is infinitely interpretable".
So I guess my next attempt would be to write a poem as abstruse as possible using a lot of oxymorons...like cold sunlight,fried ice-cream and sensible SS to name a few.
Time to let white cylindricals pearls soaked in in unmistakably familiar grime to travel in extremely sinuous labyrinths of a cave whose outer walls have been contracting and expanding for the past 24 years.....well time to eat chicken curry with rice. Well it's only a hint of how obnoxiously esoteric one can get.
Time for some more poems.....will write.
How my eyes burn!!
Wish I could use them
turn by turn.
Staring so long,
is it a life gone wrong?
It stares back!
With a smirk, it says
“Whatever you do, you lose this race”
Day in and day out
I come back to this hideout.
I don’t have a choice.
I may get paid butI don’t have a voice.
From the time I wake up
till the time I collapse.
There is nothing humane
it’s all a digital mishap.
Somehow I reconcile,
drop ideas of exile.
I get cheerful again
thinking my worries were in vain,
I come back to my ‘work’,
but know there will be no succour
as I sit down resigned
and switch on the Monitor.
Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi
I know I am getting stuck up on this but it has to be the best film of the year so far and also one of the better ones that I have seen.Riding high on a brilliantly written narrative it scores highly on so many counts that you lose count of it after a time.It took me back to the turbulent,confused and revolutionary world of 60s and 70s.The movie is about three people,their aspirations and their lives as the social order crumbles around them and how they chose to react to it and by the end of a gripping tale you get to know if they changed the way things were or they changed themselves.
The cast comprising of Kay Kay Menon,Chitrangada Singh and Shiny Ahuja complement each other brilliantly as they set about their lives guided by a set of values that crashes headlong against the acclivities of a fast changing political scenario of an extremely debauched society. Kay Kay is as usual brilliant without being noticeable.He is the one who believes in bringing in the change that his country could do with while Shiny Ahuja is on the other side of the fence who believes in wriggling his way to the top through any means necessary and represents the segment of society that tries to live off it instead of trying to change it. Chitrangada Singh,predictably the love interest of both, is the one who has to choose her way yet.She has to decide the path she walks and she needs reason for the same.
The film opens brilliantly and picks on pace with time.The events are spread out but at the same time connected through the recurrent theme of the youths yearning for a change.Although brilliant in entirety,three scenes stood out , each involving one of the main casts.The first one has KK smiling when he sees a group of villagers thirsting to chop off a zamindar's son's balls to avenge his misdeeds.As he recounts this experience,he is shown standing away from the mad crowd but smiling at the encouraging signs of an impending revolution.Its a brilliant scene done simply and it is followed by a perplexed side of his when he realizes that even though the villagers were angry a moment ago they became friendly with the zamindar the moment he is taken ill.He admits he cannot comprehend that strange compassion.Traces of left melting into a middle path.A scene with infinite interpretations.
The second scene that was a steal was when the leading lady shouts at a village thanedaar in Bihar for his atrocities.Though it seems routine the way she handles it makes for a rivetting watch.The third scene is right at the end when Shiny Ahuja is being brutally beaten up by two policemen and even as he is wreathing in pain,they search for a revolver they had dropped in the grass.Its a gut wrenching scene seeing that guy wait for a brutal and cold impending death even as he rattles off his high connections in a voice that is almost choked with fear and pain.
The film ends on a sombre note with an ending that may not be as surprising as it is thoughtful.
I have always been fond of this piece of literature which is "Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi " though I can't say I am capable of understanding even an iota of it.However it has always signified aspirations,dreams fufilled and dreams that remain so plus a lot more to me and I am happy that a movie based on it actually turned out this good.
Still waiting for my khwahishen to turn true !!!
The cast comprising of Kay Kay Menon,Chitrangada Singh and Shiny Ahuja complement each other brilliantly as they set about their lives guided by a set of values that crashes headlong against the acclivities of a fast changing political scenario of an extremely debauched society. Kay Kay is as usual brilliant without being noticeable.He is the one who believes in bringing in the change that his country could do with while Shiny Ahuja is on the other side of the fence who believes in wriggling his way to the top through any means necessary and represents the segment of society that tries to live off it instead of trying to change it. Chitrangada Singh,predictably the love interest of both, is the one who has to choose her way yet.She has to decide the path she walks and she needs reason for the same.
The film opens brilliantly and picks on pace with time.The events are spread out but at the same time connected through the recurrent theme of the youths yearning for a change.Although brilliant in entirety,three scenes stood out , each involving one of the main casts.The first one has KK smiling when he sees a group of villagers thirsting to chop off a zamindar's son's balls to avenge his misdeeds.As he recounts this experience,he is shown standing away from the mad crowd but smiling at the encouraging signs of an impending revolution.Its a brilliant scene done simply and it is followed by a perplexed side of his when he realizes that even though the villagers were angry a moment ago they became friendly with the zamindar the moment he is taken ill.He admits he cannot comprehend that strange compassion.Traces of left melting into a middle path.A scene with infinite interpretations.
The second scene that was a steal was when the leading lady shouts at a village thanedaar in Bihar for his atrocities.Though it seems routine the way she handles it makes for a rivetting watch.The third scene is right at the end when Shiny Ahuja is being brutally beaten up by two policemen and even as he is wreathing in pain,they search for a revolver they had dropped in the grass.Its a gut wrenching scene seeing that guy wait for a brutal and cold impending death even as he rattles off his high connections in a voice that is almost choked with fear and pain.
The film ends on a sombre note with an ending that may not be as surprising as it is thoughtful.
I have always been fond of this piece of literature which is "Hazaaron Khwaishein Aisi " though I can't say I am capable of understanding even an iota of it.However it has always signified aspirations,dreams fufilled and dreams that remain so plus a lot more to me and I am happy that a movie based on it actually turned out this good.
Still waiting for my khwahishen to turn true !!!
Thursday, May 05, 2005
Block the Writer
So much has been written about 'writer's block' that it almost seems like an excuse for not being a prolifically good writer but I dont mind till the time I can use it as a shield myself.The best take ,however, on it was probably in a strip of Calvin and Hobbes(the best thing to happen in the world of cartoons) where Calvin invents a 'writer's block' which actually is a block that you keep on the table and which obviously won't let you write.
I am talking about it because just moments ago I wrote and deleted a pretty hefty take on 'dreaming within dreams'.I wrote a lot and then deleted it because it just didn't look like flowing.However that doesn't mean I am suffering from writer's block because only writers are previleged to this affliction for one and secondly I am going on writing another something that has no central theme running through it.These kind of articles can make an RC section of aptitude exams so difficult because they would never have a central theme.Infact the central theme could be digression.Digression reminds me of operating system classes and ITAaaaP,primarily the latter.ITAP was a whole wide world of nonsense for an egghead to dive in and emerge everytime with a new slimy concoction of half baked ideas glistening allover a fully baked skin.There was a diabolical convenience to the way topics turned hands in a span of minutes.I draw satisfaction from the fact that no matter how much I digress I cant get better or worse than that.
Those classes gave me one efficient solution to the omnipresent problem of wavering attention.Whenever your attention is questioned,respond with a question which itself takes the attacker by surprise.I am making full use of it even now with alarming regularity and perfection,may I add.
Its too big a break that I have taken from work now and its time I went back to it.See, one more good thing about such articles is that you don't have to worry about giving it a propah ending.It can end the moment you want it to unlike the ITAP classes which would go on sometimes even after the alloted time because a certain soul would remind you of his busy existence and the network would go to the dogs.
"...well that's the way life is" remember ?!!
I am talking about it because just moments ago I wrote and deleted a pretty hefty take on 'dreaming within dreams'.I wrote a lot and then deleted it because it just didn't look like flowing.However that doesn't mean I am suffering from writer's block because only writers are previleged to this affliction for one and secondly I am going on writing another something that has no central theme running through it.These kind of articles can make an RC section of aptitude exams so difficult because they would never have a central theme.Infact the central theme could be digression.Digression reminds me of operating system classes and ITAaaaP,primarily the latter.ITAP was a whole wide world of nonsense for an egghead to dive in and emerge everytime with a new slimy concoction of half baked ideas glistening allover a fully baked skin.There was a diabolical convenience to the way topics turned hands in a span of minutes.I draw satisfaction from the fact that no matter how much I digress I cant get better or worse than that.
Those classes gave me one efficient solution to the omnipresent problem of wavering attention.Whenever your attention is questioned,respond with a question which itself takes the attacker by surprise.I am making full use of it even now with alarming regularity and perfection,may I add.
Its too big a break that I have taken from work now and its time I went back to it.See, one more good thing about such articles is that you don't have to worry about giving it a propah ending.It can end the moment you want it to unlike the ITAP classes which would go on sometimes even after the alloted time because a certain soul would remind you of his busy existence and the network would go to the dogs.
"...well that's the way life is" remember ?!!
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
22:30
The clock on the comp says there is another half an hour to go before it will be time for me to call it a day.I kinda like this schedule because first of all it lets me write without having to worry about prying eyes and also it gives me a chance to be at peace with myself and be able to sum up the way things are going on at work and off it instead of just flowing away.I dont know if many will agree but starting and ending your day late should be the best work schedule because it gives you sufficient time in the morning with a mind that is mint fresh and helps you avoid those free evening hours plagued by a tired mind.
Well I'm saying all this with respect to my requirements and ofcourse it would differ from person to person.It has been a long time since I last wrote something and it is all crap that I am dishing out right now but anyways better to write something that not.I have been wanting to write about a lot of things but there hasn't been enough time and more importantly the requisite solitude to do that.I have wanted to write about my college days esp the hostel days ,the eccentric friends I had and sometimes the the tough balancing act that had to be done regarding issues that I might take up in detail later.I have wanted to write about the 'adda' outside our college that became a metaphor for togetherness.It served as a meeting point even when we were happy or frustrated...yes we were never sad , we were always frustrated.
Always maintaining a watch for policemen's eyes, the guy would sell Cigs and tea,two of our major consumptions,besides keeping a host of other dry things you could eat along with the tea.
I remember how a lot of my classmates had an aversion to this 'adda' before ultimately getting drawn to it by the time the last year arrived.It became a hub for everyone and a brief sojourn at it was a almost religiously observed everyday.It was there that policies were framed,ideas discussed and shot down,legs pulled sometimes literally and fights resolved or evolved.In short it was a melting pot of ideas in various hues.
Many a teachers' worst hours were plotted at this very place amidst clouds of smoke layered with disgust billowing from exasperated individuals who were probably at the wrong end of fun that very day.I was a passive visitor to this place,in only the sense that I did not smoke.Otherwise I too was an integral visitor of this adda.It was the perfect place to visit during the evenings from the reading room especially when the mind would be overflowing with photocopied notes and excerpts from borrowed books and those small sessions would provide enough time to recoup for another round of notes reading besides letting you decide on what to have for dinner.It would be the time too for a particular gentleman to go back home on his ricketty scooter but not before giving truly excellent ideas about mugging up the seemingly inane theoretical subjects and he was guy who led from the front on this account.He could rattle the best in the business when it came to cramming , the only hiccup being that he always crammed the wrong things.
Yes, Addy I am talking about you.You along with a lot of others made 'adda' special.I still wish I was sitting precariously on its fence dreaming about the future ahead and not writing about it as I am now. Even as I write i can recollect the scene.A group of 4 or 5 guys sitting on the fence or standing making fun of a scooter as well as the rider who did not seem to care and boldly goes on expostulating his greatest theories on every topic under the sun.The final shake of hands that signified the end of the quarrels for the day and evened the score till the next fight.The amble back to the reading room from the serene absence of light to an ugly overwhelming presence of it.Somehow the reading room would never look the same after that and we waited for the day to end and a new morning to arrive with loads of panic to get us started about completing unit two to five of the exam next day.
Time to go now....sorry about the sudden change in tenses that would make the reading a bit of a pain but I guess it is because I have written about it in the present while all the time yearning to sneak back into the past.
Well I'm saying all this with respect to my requirements and ofcourse it would differ from person to person.It has been a long time since I last wrote something and it is all crap that I am dishing out right now but anyways better to write something that not.I have been wanting to write about a lot of things but there hasn't been enough time and more importantly the requisite solitude to do that.I have wanted to write about my college days esp the hostel days ,the eccentric friends I had and sometimes the the tough balancing act that had to be done regarding issues that I might take up in detail later.I have wanted to write about the 'adda' outside our college that became a metaphor for togetherness.It served as a meeting point even when we were happy or frustrated...yes we were never sad , we were always frustrated.
Always maintaining a watch for policemen's eyes, the guy would sell Cigs and tea,two of our major consumptions,besides keeping a host of other dry things you could eat along with the tea.
I remember how a lot of my classmates had an aversion to this 'adda' before ultimately getting drawn to it by the time the last year arrived.It became a hub for everyone and a brief sojourn at it was a almost religiously observed everyday.It was there that policies were framed,ideas discussed and shot down,legs pulled sometimes literally and fights resolved or evolved.In short it was a melting pot of ideas in various hues.
Many a teachers' worst hours were plotted at this very place amidst clouds of smoke layered with disgust billowing from exasperated individuals who were probably at the wrong end of fun that very day.I was a passive visitor to this place,in only the sense that I did not smoke.Otherwise I too was an integral visitor of this adda.It was the perfect place to visit during the evenings from the reading room especially when the mind would be overflowing with photocopied notes and excerpts from borrowed books and those small sessions would provide enough time to recoup for another round of notes reading besides letting you decide on what to have for dinner.It would be the time too for a particular gentleman to go back home on his ricketty scooter but not before giving truly excellent ideas about mugging up the seemingly inane theoretical subjects and he was guy who led from the front on this account.He could rattle the best in the business when it came to cramming , the only hiccup being that he always crammed the wrong things.
Yes, Addy I am talking about you.You along with a lot of others made 'adda' special.I still wish I was sitting precariously on its fence dreaming about the future ahead and not writing about it as I am now. Even as I write i can recollect the scene.A group of 4 or 5 guys sitting on the fence or standing making fun of a scooter as well as the rider who did not seem to care and boldly goes on expostulating his greatest theories on every topic under the sun.The final shake of hands that signified the end of the quarrels for the day and evened the score till the next fight.The amble back to the reading room from the serene absence of light to an ugly overwhelming presence of it.Somehow the reading room would never look the same after that and we waited for the day to end and a new morning to arrive with loads of panic to get us started about completing unit two to five of the exam next day.
Time to go now....sorry about the sudden change in tenses that would make the reading a bit of a pain but I guess it is because I have written about it in the present while all the time yearning to sneak back into the past.
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