What went unsaid

Life, as I had only read before in places, never takes the turns we wish it to. It never follows the waypoints we lay in our dreams. Sitting atop a hill, I could very well look back now and reflect on these sparkling words, and relate well to it.

Completely aware that this realization, however solid and significant it is to me and my near ones, doesn't change the reality, I still wish to meditate upon the beauty of active living against wishful living on a different occasion.

As a matter of fact, today's reflections captured a lot of old memories and opened them up in present context. Exactly like dusting a old library and finding remnants whose superlative significance has been reduced to dust over time.

In this particular bit, I meditate on why particular commitments overshadow the larger scheme of life, and at times we tend to lose ourselves in them. I, being a peculiar kind of person, however fond of planning, also have a high tendency to take leaps of faith. Such leaps, bounds, patchy planning, inspired actions, compelled decisions, postponed decisions, shortcuts and so on is what I see when I look backwards to just the last two years of my life.

At a time when I was already at a conflict point with my hobbies, career and health, I found myself flowing into a larger conflict with career, passion and personal life. Conflicts followed, some won, some given up and a few still going on in various forms.

In between all these "life" stories, there were several amusing stories, incidents, ideas and experiences, which I forgot to pen down. I realize that was a big mistake, because I now know that I can't expect life to repeat the good parts or any parts for that matter.

With me joining the leagues of young people turning their lives into 'busy' schedules, assisted by gadgets, a part of keeps struggling to juggle the old way against it.

From today onwards, my effort is on to try to keep the conduit open and let those come straight out in various forms.

And a nice piece from Rumi to add some food for thought:-

Jungle Diaries - A prologue

Memories of those days start from the initial impressions received about the entire activity from a friend. After hearing about the stories and the possibilities of volunteering for the wildlife cause, my imagination was triggered. Though I was somewhat skeptical and unsure about the whole thing at first, I decided to send in my application. At the time of submission, I was unsure if I would be selected, owing to my lack of prior experience, and I also had my tight schedules at work to deal with.

Within a few days, I was fully focused on matters at work and had forgotten all about this. Only when I received a mail notifying me to report to the Bannerghatta range, did I realize that I have been selected. But I was disappointed at having been allocated a semi urban reserve and tried hard to get in touch with the officials to get to know more about the reserve. The range officer in charge was rather welcoming and wished me to come over and have a 'nice' time. On my question as to whether any serious wildlife spotting could be done, his response was negative. I also realized that re-allocation wasn't possible without connections. So I let that idea rest.

Now, I was in a real fix. Being the first time I was attempting such an activity, I didn't want to spoil it over my higher expectations. On the other side was my manager whom I had to convince to get a week's leave from my responsibilities. After a bit of reflection, I decided to go ahead, as I knew I would enjoy it to whatever extent possible. Fortunately, my manager was supportive of the cause and asked me to prepare well and get back alive :)

Upbeat with this, and with support from friends, I started preparing for the one week stay in the earnest. It was during this time, that I noticed an NGO calling for volunteers for the same census to Bandipur National Park. I decided to try my luck and dropped my name into this list too, and to my fortune got selected through this list. Excited to be able to enter the famed tiger reserve on foot with official backing, my preparations went on with renewed vigour.

The clock ticked and finally the day was near. I had just finished 2 years at work, and after a memorable team lunch, I waved goodbye for the longest leave I had taken till then in my career.
With my bag packed with essential camouflage and equipment, I set off to Mysore, my old base for last minute acquisitions. With the help of some good friends, I got the much needed sleeping bag and binoculars as well.

Counting my lucky stars, and motivated by all the support, I set out alone early next morning, towards the jungle with high spirits, not fully knowing how my life would never be the same again.

To be continued..

back to the school

I have been taking some distance courses and recently our exams were conducted in the Delhi Public School.

During one such exam, I managed to finish a couple of hours ahead of schedule and had to wait for my friends. Without enough battery backup on my phone, I had nothing else to do than roam around.

The school has 3 or 4 buildings each consisting of 3-4 floors for the classrooms and other specialized activities. Having nothing else to do, I decided to poke my nose into anything and everything around.
And so I kept going on rounds, clockwise and anti-clockwise, up and down various stairs for a good part of a couple of hours. I read all the tiny articles, class posters and charts made by the students of primary school, stuck on bulletin boards, blackboards and there were also these pieces of art stored in some rooms.

Needless to say, most of the contents were regular and the kind you get from net. But most of the small articles were cutely decorated, written in squiggly handwriting of a new writer. I wondered how many of them enjoyed it and how many just wanted to get over with it.

There are couple of these articles that really got my attention. One was a poem written by a sixth grader on bullying (that was the theme in the entire building). I wish I could share it here, but even kids have copyrights, so I am not. But it had an innate sense of pride in rejecting bullies and standing up for oneself. I wished someone had written such stuff in my school days. It was such a strong spirit. I hope the tiny hands had written her own words and if so she would definitely write more.

There were couple of articles on festivals by even younger kids which reflected their love for playful Krishna or their traditional rituals which put in simple language of kids sounds very cute.

And there were some which shocked me. No student of 4th Std would be able to write articles using words like "sunkissed beaches", "Rugby is good for cardiovascular health" and all. This was clearly the work of parents, elder siblings etc that is so proudly posted there. This upset me because not only were the parents creating an unnatural balance among peers, they were also doing a disservice to their own wards.

In my school days, taking credit for work done by parents or even asking them do such a thing would almost always result in scolding and a round of beating. :) Memories of running around the house to avoid being beaten always accompany a bitter-sweet feeling.

Anyway schools are fun. With or without exam :)

the icy seductress

the soft gurgling noise of the icy rivulets fills the stark silence of the pitch black nights.

the silvery water keeps rolling and knocking against soft round pebbles that fill the river bed

the soft streams cradled among the rocky mountains seem to carry a strange divinity

I went to sleep every night with the same soft gurgling sound filling my ears, and the images of the clear blue water tumbling all along the rocks filling my mind before I lose myself into its magical hypnotism

dipping oneself into the hypnotic trance

I wake up each morning and walk over the icy rivulets and seat myself on the rocks by the river, often letting my limbs play with the flow of the icy waters. I kept wondering about the tiny streams flowing eternally, gracing rocks of all shapes, tumbling on and on, forming the shape of the land for huge distances, and making up the eternal cycle of life.

Clocks were seldom needed here as the river seemed tell the time in synergy with the sun and the thick mist. They together formed and dispersed all sense of time in the valley. They decide when you wake up and when you can summon enough courage to walk out of the tent. They decide when you get tired and when you get into slumber.

when ones very breathing moments are left to the mercy of the skies, the boulders around and the ever strengthening currents of the icy waters, life becomes a synchronous embodiment of the very same elements that surround us. In their company I had the strong sense of being alive as a human being again.

Left to the wild in a group of like minded and similarly witted human beings, man learns to create a sense of community and life among the forces of nature.

Felt like being close to the real purpose and sense of being human... again.. a sense of continuous rebirth :)

Image copyrights are owned by Cijo George

stopover..

A sweet voice beckons me to the golden plates with mounds of mouth watering delights , as I get down from my bright and warm carriage. The journey had been long and wonderful but I am tired and irritated.

I recognize the greenest and freshest treasures from our garden, and my mouth resembles the suez canal.

My mother's preparations adorn this royal feast and I start picking up one after the other, commenting on how each one tastes and occasionally ignoring a bit of imperfection.

I eat to satisfaction and dunk myself into the refreshing juices from the orchards, while eyeing the mounds of ice cream made from the ice brought in from the Himalayas.

The same Himalayas, on the peaks of which I sang a hopeful song before returning home for the feast. No mountains can keep me away from the love of a handful of rice. Or was it just the growl of the tummy? Anyway here I am, and I would have regretted if I wasn't.

As the feast ends, I eye the clock and the voice in the head starts uttering strange things. It is time to leave and my carriage has arrived. The carriage painted in bright yellow, with green stripes seems hypnotizing and the voice in the head seems more and more distant as I get into the carriage and tuck myself in, into the comfort of the warm blankets, and continue my wild quest into the lands unknown.

Sayonara and happy lazy sunday evening :)

digging in the backyard

Summer holidays were the time my brother and I got to stretch our feet, spark our imagination and run around doing whatever occurred to us, without worrying about Amma's famed "bottlewasher brush". Two months of bliss and awesome food, with no one to scold or hold us back from anything.

The one who shall not be named

We used to spend most of our summer holidays with Thaatha(grandpa) and Muthuamma(this is the name my brother coined for our grandma) in their home in Trivandrum, leaving the bustle of Ernakulam. I would be in the rhythm from the beginning of the journey itself, by taking the mandatory window seat in the train.

There usually was nothing specific to do in Trivandrum other than playing with our cousins there, or doing the mandatory visits to Sri Padmanabhaswamy temple with Muthuamma when she asked, or some occasional visits to other homes or the market. So we usually ended up running around the old rented house in the Ramaswamy Theruvu, a street designed in the traditional Brahmin agraharam style. I don't recall anyone specifically except one maama in whose house we used to watch the occasional Tamil movies in their cable TV, which was a luxury.

The house had a special design, which we call "Paamban" meaning snake-like, owing to the long and narrow corridors that largely made up the house and its rooms. From the main door, you can run straight to the kitchen and to the backyard if you didn't stumble upon the various items stationed in between or the occasional projections from doors. I still have fond memories of this house when compared to the various houses I have lived in over time.

Maybe it was the distance of the backyard from the main door that gave it its isolation and sense of ownership. Anyway, we found ourselves busy in the rear areas of the house all the day. The house was more than 300 years old, or so we were told by Thaatha. And we didn't have much difficulty in believing it, for the state of the various doors and artifacts in the house were such. But what caught our undying curiosity each time we visited was the pile of junk items accumulated near the backyard. I recall being filled with awe trying to ascertain what the ancient items were. The backyard had another door that opened to an unknown area and was out of bounds to us. The door was always securely locked by Thaatha and he carried its key with him. Whenever we enquired about it, he either had justifications, or sometimes stories which we realized were probably fakes or he ignored us completely.

Boredom doesn't allow such things to stick in ones mind and we were soon busy, playing in our little junkyard, assuming we were dacoits, or even the Two Investigators who lived in a similar junkyard, solving imaginary cases from around and telling about them to Thaatha or Muthuamma over dinner. Occassionally, when he was bold enough, my brother used to pull out random scary and dusty things out of the pile and playing with those would be our prime activity for another 2-3 days.

It was just another such day and Thaatha had gone out and Muthuamma was busy gossiping with the neighbours. Even our cousins had been joined us that day, so the energy in the gang was maximum. Being the youngest one, I could only stand by and watch as my brother and cousin went deep into the pile to bring many things out. During their spirited excavations and ensuing fights over ownership, I was left alone with my cousin sister, who obviously didn't enjoy all these boyish adventures. I don't recall if it was me or her who noticed it first. There, on the forbidden door, was a long key.

Thaatha had forgotten to take the key with him, and when we checked the door wasn't locked too. We were both excited and scared too and this new discovery made the feuding brothers to join us in our state of shock. We four were alone in the house and there was nothing to stop us from crossing over to the forbidden lands. After Manichithrathazhu, locked doors were to be taken with utmost seriousness. I even imagined large pits of fire and snakes crawling all around, probably inspired by the tales that Thaatha fed me with every night. But curiosity has a way of getting over every other impulse and soon we boys were ready to give it a quick check and get back before some adults discovered us.

The frightening imag of the damsel behind closed doors in our minds

Leaving the lone girl as watch, we three pushed open the heavy door and I was promoted to the position of point, and was asked to put my head through the gap and give reports. After an initial denial, I took the chance to avoid further embarrassment at being younger. I recall very clearly that I could hear the thumps in my chest as I 'boldly' opened the door further and put my head through it. I could make out a medium sized portion of land and the sky was open above it. The land was filled with all sorts of wild plants and nothing else of interest seemed to be there. I called my waiting brothers in. But we didn't take the risk to walk into the open courtyard, probably trying to wrestle with the fake stories fed by Thaatha. We noticed that in the centre of this yard was a black rock shaped almost like a holy idol, only that we couldn't recognize this one.
It was surrounded by something red and yellow and we couldn't make out whether it was something natural or man-made before we heard Muthuamma's voice booming through the narrow hallway.

With a guilty pang in our hearts, we quickly dashed back in through the open door and shut it close. We must have put up a bad show in trying to be busy playing, because Muthuamma almost immediately noticed the ajar door and locked it shut and took the key with her. She shot us a menacing glance, to which we all replied with hung heads until she left. The rest of day passed in passive activities, but we couldn't muster the courage to ask anything to both of them. But we knew something was wrong when our parents came in a couple of weeks ahead of schedule with some absurd excuses and took us back to Ernakulam.

We never spoke of any of these to our parents or even within ourselves. The memories of the  vacation was slowly erased by daily fights over cricket matches, wresting cards exchanges or the fight-for-no-reason. Anyway our grandparents moved to another colony the next year and we never went back to the old house again until recently. But I didn't find it necessary to dig open unnecessary things, and hence kept quiet, seeing  the old backyard door, now sealed with tufts of clothes, sacred threads and religious symbols.

This post is written for the Tata Safari "I am Explorer" blogging contest running in Indiblogger, which requires one to write about a story of exploration.  

All images used in this post are obtained from Google Image search and the copyrights are retained by the original owners.

the thinking idiot speaks what a new year eve is all about

every year, the counter increments, people rejoice, spend, do exciting things,promise nice things to themselves.. and the game starts again once they are back to what they were doing the last.. (the innocent sarcasm is always good to keep the feet firmly rooted :) )

a society that discards the bad of a year and reflects upon the good of it while stepping into a new one. Change has always been celebrated in all communities, and we have lots of regional festivals to justify that. This is just another one we celebrate along with the international community.

lots of people believe in new year resolutions, and I have seen and heard of people transform themselves on this pretext. But mostly those who claim the resolutions are onto small stuff and sometimes never serious. It is just fun to think about improving something atleast once :)

Some believe that what they do first thing on the new year's eve has an impact on the year ahead. I kind of like that approach. As it builds lots of suspense and thrill on a single moment. I have had some amusing moments in life after I started observing such things. In childhood or earlier days, I would be perched on the sofa watching the bursting of crackers Down Under  or watching some other special shows. Those days I never bothered to think much other than wishing as many people as possible at the earliest and receiving their wishes in return. That was the fun those days.

After the great departure, its all about being meaningful about something :) Seeing the first rising sun, travelling, being with friends, being somewhere, doing something, thinking something good, seeing pleasant dreams, hoping and beaming with confidence. Those are benchmarks of a good new year's eve. I, not being a party animal, am obviously not found in large parties and gatherings for this purpose.

One year I was in the bus travelling home. Only two friends were accompanying me, and that too in distant seats. They arranged to have me seated near by 11:50pm, so that I wouldn't have to spend the new year's eve alone. First time in my life I experienced the joy of wishing the slumbering unknown fellow traveller and getting a warm response in the middle of the night. There was a minor light show with phones as well :) It was followed up by the awesome view of the rising sun while the bus roared through the open highway near Thrissur. It was a during a difficult time in life and being able to thank the driver and conductor for the smooth drive while wishing them was a liberating feeling.

 The next year, being more challenging and excruciating the new year's eve fit right into my first day off after nearly 4 months. It was my first 3+ days leave as well. Sounds funny when I recall how frequently most of the people avail leaves. :) That was a time well spent with my family, having been absent mostly over the previous 1.5 years. Acquired my camera and a new perspective alongwith it too. The eve itself was quite boring in contrast. I was seated in front of my laptop watching the clock tick into position, before releasing a timely facebook status and tweet, kind of like a press statement. :D

2011 - That was the year of fundamental change for me - for worse or better. The changes and their impacts were phenomenal. With the bike, camera and the spirit to wander, I was a wanderer in all terms-no longer wedded to work, and full of the attitude currently identified widely as sarcasm for the material world. And the transition to 2012 was along similar scales, when after moving to Bangalore and a new job, I climbed a near impossible peak with some of my best friends I made in my life in Mysore. That is by far the best new year's eve. Though I accidentally snoozed through the eve owing to the aching muscles and bone numbing cold. Only when the fire died down at 00.35 did I wake up and wake up the few others to rejoice a bit.

2012 - being a year of togetherness with lots of friends  and families from various networks, was symbolized by the simple celebration we had. A simple plum cake cut and shared among us fellows, while deciding on which movie/song to play. Ended up watching the super flop Simhasanam for a few minutes until the desperation forced us to revert to 3 Kings - the super duper comedy movie. Laughing together and enjoying the moment was the key, until sleep overcame and all slowly retired :D

welcome 2013 - wonder what you have in store for me and my near and dear ones. One thing is sure. You can be lethal if I wish to, or be a simpleton if I play by your tunes :)

Wish you all readers a challenging,interesting,flashy,calm,blasting and a happy new year. Wish that all your dreams, hopes and plans come closer to being true.. and a special wish to all my friends who are tying the knot, or entering interesting phases in their personal and professional lives.

Vamos vamos..

This is the result of Boredom

Not so long ago, I was a free bird, one with lots of curiosity and energy. I used to sit for hours, watching videos on theories, concepts, impressive ideas, and heard each and every TED talk, irrespective of whether they even made me think or not.

I used to play around with small tasks and learn some new technologies or concepts while doing it. During that time, I conceived the idea of constant pursuit of knowledge or at least juicy information. My image of myself was that of a persistent learner, one who is not hell-bent on success, money and fame, but waited for the same to come to me, while I just pursued my own fantasies. Yes, I realized as soon as the end of college life seemed near, and my options became clearer, that those were just fantasies I had created in my mind to keep it occupied and sometimes, sane.

That realization brought a bit of pain and embarrassment at my own immature beliefs, and I remember struggling to come to terms with it. But it was nothing to lose my sleep over, as I had at least a couple of options to partially exist in my fantasy world, even after college life. I always believed that if I have certain facilities, items and maintain certain other behaviours, I could continually be in contact with my fantasy world, wherever I go.

The funny thing about revelations is that, they are difficult to trace back to any particular incident or instance of time in your life. They just occur when a lot of things happen or go through your mind, usually without your explicit triggering. Such is the current revelation, which I am writing down, which I realized recently, is something very natural to me.

I originally started writing this post to mention how nowadays I have to choose what I do, what I see, what I listen to and what I eat based on lots of new constraints, like time. I cannot afford to waste the precious few hours of time I get to pursue all my hobbies, like blogging, writing, technical news, chatting etc. I must thank the officials in Mysore for that though, for their diligent adherence to the cause of cutting emissions and reducing our electricity bills in a very easy manner; by cutting the supply altogether! (No power as I type this!!)

But whatever be the constraints, I am still the same old person with the same tastes and distastes. The only difference would be the addition of new shades to everything, caused by my exposure to life and its experiences. I now deeply love certain musical instruments, listen to new genre of music, use and work on a new technology, live in a different environment and eat a different kind of food. Most importantly, I have a new kind of respect and attitude for people. So, my concern was to find a way to get the best of everything or at least most of things, in the limited time. I do sometimes feel I am expecting too much... and at those times, I revert to my suspended state, of minimal emotional and intellectual connectivity with exterior world. The struggle to fit in 3’X’ tasks into a time slot that supports only ‘X’, is on.

Wrote too much already, and I wonder if I made a so-called point so far. Would like to hear from my readers (ideally, no Buzzing please…I hate it)

Lovingly,
Vivek

Yaadein

"bas ek bar wapas lautne ka man karta hai

Aaj har wo din jeene ko man karta hai.

kuch buri batein jo ab acchi lagti hain

kuch batein jo kal ki hi batein lagti hain.

abki baar class attend karne ka man karta hai

Dopahar ki class mein aakhein band karne ko man karta hai.

Doston ke room ki wo baatein yaad aati hai

exam ke time pe wo hasi mazak yaad aati hai,

college ke paas razakiya ki yaad aati hai

tab ki bekar lagne wali photos chehre pe hasi laati hai.

Ek aisi subah uthne ka mann karta hai

bas ek bar wapas lautne ka man karta hai.

bas ek bar aur

wapas lautne ka man karta hai."

-Came over office mail

Painting Joy

This is about Joy Rafael, the friendly neighborhood painter.
I remember meeting this jolly old chap probably 16 years back..when we first moved to our new house..
With the work in progress, me and my brother used to visit the house along with our parents occasionally. During those visits, Joy always amused and entertained us by showing little magic tricks and talked things about buildings and how painting is the most interesting job in the world ;)

Even after we moved to the new house, some final works were left on the upper floor and hence Joy and his 'merrymen' painters used to hang around.Now, as both my parents are working, me and my brother used to be alone after returning from school in the evening. There was no cable tv at our home back then, and we used to play around the building with the various interesting stuff lying around (thanks to all the construction)...and Joy used to hang around us..keeping an eye on us( his version of it). Anyway we used to play with him as well as fight. This went on for about a couple of years.

In a couple of years,we had grown up and didn't find him interesting enough and we suspected that he was shirking work in our name..but still maintained friendly relation with him. He was a funny character. Due to our lack of time, he had the added responsibility of purchasing materials for painting( ie. occasional maintenance works). Over the years, we saw less of him, as he grew older and we got busier.

On 30th of March,I was woken up from deep slumber by my mother, with a shocking news.Joy had taken a fall from the terrace that morning and passed away immediately. I couldn't believe that the funny crooked guy simply ceased to exist, one fine morning. It took some time for me to come to senses and grip the reality. Later, on receiving an invitation for his funeral,containing his photo, I realised that he really won't be coming next time asking whether its time for a new coat of paint.
Joy, the painter of joy thus passed away, leaving a family consisting of two children, about whom he used to talk a lot. May God bless all...

Retro ..

Oohooi...how many times in your life do ya get to remember the jolly 'ol ways..?

Be it indoor fun or outdoor,many of the things which we used to do for entertainment in our childhood is now out of fashion,rare or sometimes not heard at all by others...

For a normal guy like me it would be the retro tv/video games we used to play..with the nice catridges and all...and the cool and funky tv series of the late 90s.I had only DD,so only those who were in same condition would know..coz no self respecting person with cable connection would watch the shows in DD as we did :)

It was the DD metro movie that was aired every weekday at evenings to which I would credit my grasp of Hindi( and not on the strict or boring teachers). There were lots of strange shows, which I wonder how many would have watched(I mean the non-DDs),but we never minded or complained..be it stupid or weird.The names of many shows come running to my mind,but I am not going to make a list here,because that is not my intention.


The original reason why I wanted to write this post is the opening sequence of the Cartoon show SWAT KATS,which was aired in Cartoon Network.I just downloaded and heard it.It was my favourite show though we had cable connection for only 2 years..that too the last 2 yrs of schooling.I still get attracted to such retro series if any are aired,and bear a dislike to the kiddish japanese stuff flooding the channels.I do not say all Japanese anime are stupid,cause I myself am in love with 2-3 of them,but frankly I don't like the dubbed versions.Just think how weird it would be,if an English guy tries to voice any of our local movies..it would be pandemonium among the viewers... :P

The prize deeds of those days were: Hit a few sixes and take a few wickets everyday:Catch all episodes of all favourite toons and tv shows :Finish reading the latest comics and spread the story to all friends:Finish all levels or beat friends on the many famous tv games and boast about it for a whole year ;)....hehe and it was all carried out with such fervor...