Wind and the Valley

oh you, to whom life bows in deference,
you, who is part of our every moment and existence,

mighty, fulfilling, absolute and faultless,
your colours and contours are timeless,

in you, i find comfort everlasting,
forgetful of time, age and all that is unwilling,

to you i was born, to you i shall return,
these moments apart are but a short sojourn.

Footnotes:

Image description - Taken from a look-out point at Matheran

A Sojourn in Paradise

Whoever remarked of paradise being only within the heart was not blessed enough to admire the expansive outbacks that lie strewn across all of India. Matheran is one such destination and it was sheer thoughtfulness that took me there.

V's text one Friday evening had me elated when he asked if i'd like to go along over the weekend. And, on a following Sunday morning when we set about, in the midst of nippy winter air, i had little clue of what was to come. Excitement turned into elation when we slipped out of the city and into unrestrained greenery, which to me is balm to the soul, or rather, its home.

Winding roads, thin clear air, rugged hills and rolling mountains later, Matheran presented itself and welcomed us like home would its inhabitants. I cannot justly describe the sights and sounds, for they are much more and beyond words. But walking about untroubled by time or intention and purely ecstatic at taking in all the marvel that was, i soon reached a point of not wanting to return; of the need to disappear into the consoling wilderness and remain lost forever!

Humbled, and in awe, i was once again reassured by the verity that meaning and purpose are nothing more than the synonyms of nature, the marvels of creation.

I cannot thank V and his friends enough for this splendid opportunity; the sojourn, feel, stillness, conversations. And V, and his family, particularly for some delightfully homemade Rajasthani fare of 'dal bati churma.'

I can at best sum up the day with one word, very distinctive of what it truly is - a 'blessing.'

And as i returned home and passed into time, another milestone, quite contrary of its just-relished predecessor stood in force to smother me - It was a Monday morning! 

Rendezvous with the Renaissance Man

Among the things that define him the least is to say that he is a blogger.

He is someone who is much more, and blogging therefore is among the many activities of his passion. Self taught, self made, supremely adaptable, admirably well-travelled and in a purposeful quest for meaning, reason and happiness, he holds the distinction of being someone out of the ordinary, committed to himself, to be away from the mundane rat race that defines the road to success in the context of the present day.

Sadho Ram, affectionately known as Sadho, is a man who holds life in high esteem and values relationships with importance. So when one Sunday morning, not long ago, i had the privilege of having breakfast with him, only hours before his departure from here, i was adequately reassured of his priorities in life.

But the story begins from many years ago, when a boy decided to break free from what was almost decidedly the natural course of his life - willed for him by his kin, themselves following in the path of their family before them. Aware that the path towards his destiny lay elsewhere, he broke glass and chose to embark upon a journey that saw him go places, pursue a course of study of choice, and transform his life  - a journey which saw him be himself.

Having travelled extensively across the breadth of the Indian union, he continues to be in awe of places and what they hold in store for the explorer in him, the explorer that is him. The more i spoke to him, the more i became aware of him as a person unperturbed by time.

His concerns are not centered around wealth, positions or material gains - those to him are mere dictates of a social order. Sadho is energetically and genuinely articulate about the concerns surrounding human life today - paramount among which is a prevalent lacking of the ability of the individual to unite and bond with the self and thus be aware and cognizant of the the world within and that which lies outside of it.

Close to ninety minutes, an easy south-Indian fare and a soulful conversation later, i decided to let go of him mindful of his impending journey later that day.

But, truly, it has taken only ninety minutes to earn a friend for life.

Footnotes:

On another note, Deepu, my brother, turns 30 day! Welcome to the club, boyo! :-)

Live On Forever Ry

My first memories of him are that of a warm smile, twinkling eyes of sincerity and a firm handshake which evidently were his trademark style of greeting, every one, every time, and at all times. These memories are not from a very distant past, but, from the backyard of the present.

At 21 you wouldn't expect anyone to be anything but a stirring teenager adept only with the ways a relative, contemporary world. But, at that, he proved all assumptions as they truly are - as assumptions. Extremely passionate about education, with the resolved belief that it was a liberating force, he was working on making his dream project come true - education for the under privileged. It was this yet unborn cause that brought us together, though we found ourselves often delving deep into the pleasures of music, movies, travel and literature.

One would think that a soul like this was destined to live his dream, to deliver the world from tribulation and be celebrated in timelessness - because that is precisely what the world needs, a man of resolve, commitment and belief that he will change the way people live, by hope, vision and effort.

Christmas was two days away and i was invited to have dinner with him - even during which occasion he passionately articulated his dream, his vision, his purpose. That evening, i went home comforted in dreams, his dreams, that strengthened a world of perfection deep within my mind.

But life isn't always the way we think of it! There is always that big fucking sick surprise that springs up unannounced, unbeknownst to us. I wouldn't know then that Ry wouldn't make it for Christmas. A little after mid-week last, of the past year, i was informed that Ry had met with death tragically, bringing two-decades of brilliance to an abrupt end.

Today, as i recall our last conversation, only hours before his departure - his words echo, inspire and encourage me, as if to say that we had met that last hour so that he could pass on the mantle of his dream to me, for it to live on. I gather, he was someone, unlike so many of us, who did not need any credit of achievement to attain his coign of vantage - for who he was, his existence alone did that for him. And that day isn't very far away when tributes, which will culminate into efforts, paid to his memory will show how much the influence of the departed will strengthen and inspire the deeds of the living.

For me, he continues to exist, always and all ways, in my memories and my actions. His simplicity, compassion and forthrightness and more prominently, his efforts to make the world a better place for the less fortunate make him truly what he is - the son of God!

Rest in peace, Ry, my friend, my brother! You fought a tough life and now you are united with your creator. Heaven is a place, now, better, but you have left us poor, forever!

Rest in peace, my friend, my brother. You will live on forever.

Opening Statements 2013

In each of us, there is a little of all of us.

So, while we belong to one another - we are also one and the same.

Footnotes:

Opening Statements 2012

The Ramparts of 2012

Time! on whose arbitrary wing

The varying hours must flag or fly,

Whose tardy winter, fleeting spring,

But drag or drive us on to die

--To Time, Lord Byron, 1812

Post # 46 - 2012

A year, like never before and surely never like the ones that will come after it, is finally coming to a close. It has been the most challenging year of my life and has transformed it in ways that i couldn't possibly have imagined.

That apart, i've enjoyed the relocation, meeting with fellow bloggers - 3 of them this year, 2 of whom i've written about, the well-laden sub-cultural aspects of this tinsel town, unlimited dreams, endless possibilities and a whole lot more.

As we stand at the doorway of another year - i do not wish to envision it as merely another new beginning, but a continuum that will bring us happiness, compassion, love and timelessness.

A humble mention of my anchorage-extraordinaire, in spirit, in soul, for whom my gratitude is unbound - CD, thank you for everything.

Footnotes:

The Ramparts of 2011

Rendezvous with The Rain Boi

Vikram Jeet Singh Parmar is not someone who can be labelled as being just a commendable blogger or a skilled photographer, both of which he very much is! He is someone who has transcended either - by venturing into the real world with a zeal to do something that he always wanted to do.

Having surpassed many a milestone he is now ardently following a dream, to realize his passion for photography that has led to him to embark on a journey of Recreating Reality.

For this intrepid soul from the hills, who calls himself 'a cautious observer and a reckless participant', there exists a dream to explore the world and immerse himself in it until eternity, seeking bliss unlimited.

Having read Computer Sciences and having worked for a while in a global organization, he decided to opt out of the increasingly mundane routine, in order to do what he does best - to be a writer, photographer and traveler!

The uniquely tied-to-destiny ardor he exudes of life can at best be summed up by the most appropriate of Ayn Rand's lines that 'the purpose of man's life is to become an abject zombie who serves a purpose he does not know, for reasons he is not to question.'

Oh, and i must thank him very much for letting me, the most amateur, fool around with his super toy - the awesome Canon EOS DSLR, the series of which i don't remember, the nomenclature of which i don't understand, but am fascinated about no end.

And, before i end, VJSP, thank you for making the ToI Literary Carnival 2012 happen for me! :-)

The Times Literary Carnival 2012

It was chance that offered me to live a dream when fellow blogger and ace photographer Vikram Jeet Singh Parmar announced his intention to attend The 'Times of India Literary Carnival 2012.'

And so it began at the iconic Mehboob Studios with the ever lively Bachi Karkaria introducing the graceful Justice Leila Seth, who spoke about bringing up Vikram, her son who is today an internationally acclaimed author - most famously known for his creation - A Suitable Boy.

The Screensavers came alive next where Anusha Rizvi, Urmi Juvekar and Rajeev Masand debated storytelling in bollywood movies. And then there was the vibrantly eloquent Dr. Ramachandra Guha who spoke of his book, The Passionate Liberal, in a manner that was the epitome of passion. And my joy was limitless when i got to meet him, to come face to face with the man who had created a definite masterpiece of literature - India after Gandhi.

But delight knew no bounds when two critically acclaimed writers, Katherine Boo and Suketu Mehta, who work between India and the US compared notes about reporting across boundaries in an unequal, market-global age. It was a bigger sense of delight to have been able to meet Suketu Mehta, in person, in flesh and blood. Coincidentally, i am presently reading Suketu's classic, Maximum City, which is truly one of the best works that lucidly describes the finer and not so fine aspects of this megapolis, this metropolis, this wonder.

Day 1, for me, concluded with the master historian William Dalrymple launching his, yet another masterpiece - Return of a King: The Battle for Afghanistan 1839 - 42. His ability to tell a story in its vivid, accurate and descriptive form is simply remarkable and unparalleled. It was rather unfortunate that i couldn't attend Day 0, which happened to be on a Friday, thus being taken up by work!

Day 2 began with a more closer-to-home point in case; the fine art of losing! Sarnath Banerjee, Shiv Vishwanathan, Shaheen Mistri and author Manu Joseph moderated that the winner doesn't take it all. A question that came up very pertinently - Why don't we teach our children how to deal with failure?

And then there was The Eternal Manto - translated by Aastish Taseer, read to us by the legendary Javed Akhtar and the poet extraordinaire Gulzaar, steered by the ad man Prasoon Joshi.

A group of the finest story tellers from South Asia then came together in the forms of Daniyal Mueenuddin, Rana Dasgupta, Jeet Thayil, Anjali Joseph and Nilanjana Roy to discuss inspiration and the craft.

And finally, to talk of the challenges of adapting fiction to film, and about her latest film, The Reluctant Fundamentalist, was the charming, confident and intelligent Mira Nair with the celebrated director Shyam Benegal.

But, it was not all of this alone that made it such a wonderful occasion. I ran into long time inspirations, free souls; DK and JJ - sailors, from another world, free and blissful, something that i can today only imagine.

Footnotes:

Image Courtesy - Vikram Jeet Singh Parmar

Image Description - With Suketu Mehta the author of Maximum City: Bombay Lost and Found

More pictures from the Literary Carnival 2012 - On my Flickr photostream

Real World Calling

There's a place in my mind,
it once used to be real, making me overjoyed - as one of a kind,

For me there, really, are no worlds beyond,
than the wonders of this heaven, with bliss abound,

Today, i find myself far away and apart,
yet so much longing to be within the magic of its art,

There are no promises, here, of anything whatsoever,
there is only the feeling of magical joy, bliss and content, over and over,

It is a place where time stands still,
as if to demonstrate a supremely divine will,

There's a place in my mind,
it once used to be real, making me overjoyed - as one of a kind,
i call it home - the place where i used to live,
now i call it home - the place where i will be in time to die.

Footnotes:

Image Courtesy - Arun K Selvarangam, from his Flickr stream. With appropriate permission to showcase this work of his.

Image Description - Nilgiris Train, A view from the Ketti Valley, shot on June 9, 2011 in Ooty, using a Canon EOS REBEL T1i.

Less is More

About a month or so before, the Daily Mail and the NY Daily News featured interesting articles about the world's happiest man. Having read them, at the recommendation of a very good friend, i felt it necessary to make a post of the excerpts (verbatim) from either articles, which i have detailed below. During the read, which i thoroughly enjoyed, and was greatly energized about, it wasn't lost on me that the path to true happiness is indeed a process of dematerialization in the personal space, with the message that less is more, truly!

"A French genetic scientist may seem like an unusual person to hold the title - but Matthieu Ricard is the world's happiest man, according to researchers. The 66-year-old turned his back on Parisian intellectual life 40 years ago and moved to India to study Buddhism. He is now a close confidante of the Dalai Lama and respected western scholar of religion.

The son of philosopher Jean-Francois Revel and abstract watercolour painter Yahne Le Toumelin, became something of a celebrity after writing 'The Monk And The Philosopher' with his father. This was a dialogue on the meaning of life. His other works include "Happiness: A Guide to Developing Life's Most Important Skill" and several collections of photographs of the landscape, people and spiritual masters of the Himalayas. Ricard donates all proceeds of his books to 110 humanitarian projects which have built schools for 21,000 children and provide healthcare for 100,000 patients a year.

He addressed the World Economic Forum in Davos at the height of the financial crisis in 2009 to tell gathered heads of state and business leaders it was time to give up greed in favor of "enlightened altruism."

A prominent monk in Kathmandu's Shechen Monastery, Ricard divides his year between isolated meditation, scientific research and accompanying the Dalai Lama as his adviser on trips to French-speaking countries and science conferences. Ricard sees living a good life, and showing compassion, not as a religious edict revealed from on high, but as a practical route to happiness."

It can't get more inspiring than this, can it?

A New Bottle

Tired of the painfully flawed intensedebate comment management system, i decided to kick it out of the window and revert to the more reliable blogger interface, which now offers the threaded commenting architecture! Back then, when i migrated, this feature wasn't available.

On the flipside, however, i've lost some 1579 comments, right from May 09, 2010, spanning over a time-frame of 132 weeks! But, i've managed to get them all into an XML file which is lying frozen in cold storage, and will until such time that blogger allows a feature to exclusively import comments and append them onto their respective posts - now, that'd be a breeze, really ;-)

And then, the temptation of tweaking up on the look & feel - led me to apply the more contemporary, yet sober, Dynamic Views template!

So about post # 415, this one - old wine in a new bottle ;-)

Tada!

Oh, i missed the big one: Mum & Dad - happy anniversary! The 34th!

Good Morning CD

Not long ago, i paused for a moment to wonder which way to go. Undecided, disbelieving and seeking, i stood before a forked road, which appeared to have more than many a path ahead of it, each leading to worlds unknown, unseen and fear-provoking.

The rumble within refused to calm, demanding more action, which to the 'trained eye' was a portrayal of extreme irresolution. Emotions stirred to incredulous pinnacles and angst grew in disproportionate measures.

But destiny, the omnipotent power, swung into action, invoking a memory, which soon enabled a powerful reconnect. An unusual, yet deeply gratifying process of refurbishment unraveled, much to amazement and then a sense of cognizance of the inside, the outside, the inside within the outside and the the other way around.

Today, there is no worry about any 'perceived maddening lapse' of time, which, thus far, was a matter of concern. This is only the least of all, so to speak, you know. There is a sense of stillness which is beginning to be experienced and relished.

And, as you say, this is only the beginning! There is more to come you pronounce, but i am ecstatic already, and quickly aware.

All of this couldn't have been possible without you!

Good Morning, CD

Western Winter

Winter here isn't anything about that cold, freezing, in the quilt, under the covers feeling! There's not even so much as a breeze.

But, there is a nip in the air. Trees look greener and birds appear puffed up. There is a thin mist that hangs in the air, only to make a quick disappearance when the sun is about to make its way up. And then the day is just like any other. This limited treat is only for the early riser. There is a feeling of tranquil, of real quiet, immense stillness and peace.

In the evening, on a walk yesterday, i noticed bright lights hanging down from trees, sculptured and ensconced within dandelion and inverted pumpkin like designs. The neighbourhood seems to have undergone a transformation. There is festivity and celebration in the air and warm aromas linger momentarily blending with the air and then giving way to the whiffs of trees.

There is a sense of childhood, that feeling of unexplained joy and limitlessness.

Rod Stewart's Young Turks plays in my mind. There's really something about the winter here.

Young hearts be free tonight.time is on your side,

Don't let them put you down, don't let em push you around,

Don't let em ever change your point of view.

Comments and More

There have been some strange upsets regarding Intensedebate, the comment management system i chose for my blog in the summer of 2010. That the administration and back-end support of Intensedebate is now defunct is beyond doubt. Emails written to their support remain unresponded. So much for the term support, let alone the attitude.

This leaves me in a huge dilemma now. Since May 2010, the Intensedebate system on my blog has aggregated some 1553 comments which will be threatened to permanent deletion should i chose to uninstall this now dead system. Strangely, comments from Intensedebate cannot be exported onto blogger.

If i have to choose Intensedebate as a permanent system, then i risk losing my equanimity in the process of uninstalling and reinstalling the html code, for unending errors, disappearing comments and so on, happening almost on a weekly basis now!

I've been reading up forums of all kinds, but in vain, and this is bothering me no end.

Does anyone know of a solution?

In hindsight, i'm wondering why i hadn't chosen a better comment management system for my blog! 

Rendezvous with the Technologist

A suburban train in this city ferries some fifteen hundred commuters during a single journey - a conservative personal estimate, that being. Mumbaipedia has gone a step further in defining a suburban train, which it claims to be a series of motorized carriages, in Mumbai, transporting a third of the world's population every year!

At close to half past six one evening, out from work, I ambled into Churchgate terminus and found myself ill-timed to have missed my usual ride. Boarding another, only minutes after, i chose to avoid, as i always do, the desperate battle-struggles of co-travellers to find salvation in being seated to begin their long and sometimes arduous journeys homeward.

At the next stopover, which like the others doesn't last more than a few seconds, in came someone i thought i knew. Uncertain, yet enthused by this pleasant happening of chance, i waited a while to make sure. Suspicion turned certainty after i sent the 'suspect' a text message seeking confirmation and then pronto - i came face to face and shook hands with the famous blogger and technologist, as I choose to call him.

Chirag Jethmalani was introduced to me by his blog some years ago and we exchanged notes on blogging, social media and the like, not ever having met before, without the possibility of meeting ever - until that evening. And my enthusiasm knew no bounds as i chatted away at this delightful happenstance.

Warm, exuberant, mature and with a distinctive poise, here was a person who had, fairly early on, understood the ramifications of technology and its influence on our lives and businesses in a very definite manner. Having incubated his own business venture and also pursuing higher education, Chirag is a corporate blogger engaged by a number of names in the industry. But he is best known to be the founder and editor of squamble.com which is a platform for sharing the latest buzz on business in India and updates on technology. Today, over 700 articles, close to 4 years and some 75,000 pageviews later, Squamble commands a brand value.

And aptly, like he describes himself, he is an established blogger and comes across as a thinker, who admires creativity and innovation and is hungry for gyan with ideas turning him on.

But what could one say about a chance meeting, for the first time, on a suburban train - endless possibilities in the maximum city?

Time Check

Of considerable interest to me, though largely incomprehensible to my limited mind, is the marvel of time, its passage, and the sheer change it brings about in life.

Quietly, yet seemingly at rather fast pace, i have covered some 120 odd days in this Eden of people and concrete. I'm surprised at how yesterday gives into tomorrow and beyond and am equally amazed at how it feels that i have lived here for a few years now.

Maybe that is precisely why they say that time slows down at high speeds!

On another note, the railways here should consider issuing frequent traveller options like how the airlines do :-)

Blanked

Today's thoughts run into a blank. The otherwise free flowing feel of the mind seems wrenched and there is no particular reason i can think of for an answer. I cannot be certain if it is due to a number of preoccupations or contrarily due to an inert state of nothingness. But today, my mind is drawing a blank and there isn't anything i can really think of, other than a feeling of scathing emptiness, that is different and a bit concerning too.

As if to reassure, i seek explanations from my weary mind, in assertive assumption as if it was a manufacturing plant designated to churn out a new product at every regular interval of time. Realization and reason further draw a blank when the mind fails to recognize the question and refuses to offer any response.

As a defensive rejoinder, i am relegated to dwell on logic, analysis and rationale - when i'm gently reminded by an inner voice that those attributes do not qualify one bit to describe the human mind. And then, there are the ringing words of Charles C. Finn which say that 'i will tell you everything that is really nothing, and nothing of what is everything, do not be fooled by what i am saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what i am not saying.'

Hello Burfi!

Dear Burfi!

Your acutely intensely portrayal of life amidst debilitating impairments moved me a great deal. Even more appreciable was the underlying theme of being able to proffer a smile at even the most incapable occasion.

I'm not sure if a lot of us are able to conduct ourselves similarly under comparable circumstances - of that i'm certain that i surely cannot! Life makes many of us malleable and ductile in ways we cannot have imagined, and then there are also some of us who grow terribly tempered to eventually breakup, losing the ability to withstand the tempest and remain tensile.

So, human as i am, i will relegate these 'rare' distinctions, commonly, or, only possible on celluloid!

I care not if you've been a snitch-job from portrayals across decades, classics, industries and people - for me it's been quite an out-of-the-ordinary 'weekend entertainer' that i enjoyed.

But, in the same breath, i wouldn't quite go bouncy about the Oscar part. Perhaps it is depiction of characters that was most interesting really!

And, you did manage to score a thing or two on the editorial of India's only entirely 'Page 3' newspaper, huh?

tada!

The Odd Buff

Wholly Elephant God

Wednesday last, for some of us, began, long before day break, with a short interruption, in an otherwise commendable scheme of power supply - This was as if by indication of what was to come later in the day!

Contrary to a lot many others, I was working that day despite the city welcoming the 'Holy Elephant God' in whose reverence this metropolis comes to a grinding halt, once, or perhaps twice, every year! And so, you'd  forgive me very much for lovingly, and deferentially, calling him the 'Wholly Elephant God!'

Stepping out at the usual stroke of the hour in the morning, I noticed a conspicuous absence of the otherwise long-flowing river of people. The usually overflowing bus, to the nearest suburban railway station, ambled in slow and 'attractively' unoccupied. At the railway station, some ten minutes later, a desolate sight greeted me and as a 12-car-snaking-string-of-a-train pulled up, I derisively chuckled, to myself, at how empty it was!

Riding the 65 minute, 20 mile journey, in perfectly blissful dreamlike solitude, I was differently edgy and strangely excited at how much space that morning presented, as opposed to the otherwise needle-stack-span everyday offering, which is earned after no less than battle-like bluster! It was a feeling of being blessed with countless luxuries than what could possibly be imagined, let alone enjoyed.

Jokes apart, the absence of flutter, mayhem and the coupled din caused me to wonder if I had landed up a place anew - only to realize that even the beloved 'Manhattan of India' is entitled to some rare slumber - this time, thanks to the 'Wholly Elephant God.'

Kurunjis in Bloom

Despite the present geographical disparity of some 730 miles, I go many lengths to stay connected to Ooty and be updated of what happens there, from time to time.

You can therefore imagine my elation when, on Thursday last, The Times of India carried a feature on the Kurunji bloom in Ooty, which is ongoing. Binomally known Strobilanthes kunthiana, the Neelakurinji are how the blue mountains, back home, got their famed name - The Nilgiris. These purplish blue flowers blossom only once in 12 years and served as a means for calculating age among the tribal folk!

Understandably, my mind is wandering about those pristine mountains now, envisioning the wonder, longing to be part of that heaven, forever and ever

On another note, my comment management system gave me a slip last post onwards. I have written to the support team of Intensedebate and am hoping that they right the wrong soon. Some of your comments have disappeared, in the past, and will, in all probability go down under this time too! Nevertheless, do please leave me your wonderful thoughts, as always. Nothing gives me more pleasure than hearing from all of you.