The many worlds

The other day, I read a rather innocuous article in the Hindu about a mother’s relief over the verdict passed against her son’s killer. 12 years ago, her son had died of bullets wounds when the Mumbai Police, allegedly resorted to indiscriminate firing to control a mob agitating against the desecration of Dr. Ambedkar’s statue. The courts had found the Police commissioner in charge at that time guilty.

I say innocuous, in that firstly , it had appeared in the bottom left corner of the last page of the paper. Secondly, in this great country of a billion plus, murders, injustice, agitations, scapegoats, indiscriminate firing, delayed justice are de rigeur, atleast to me. Even as I say this I feel no remorse, no shame, to admit that such incidents don’t move me as much as they did once( or so, I’d like to believe) upon a long long time ago.
But what did strangely register in my mind was the old lady’s plight. For her, the question that still lurked was “who had hung the garland of chappals on the statue?”
I do not know if the issue was politicized. I’m inclined to believe it was, as the incident occurred close to the elections. However, what Dr. Ambedkar symbolized to the many who had been discriminated against is something I cannot even begin to fathom. For that matter, I cannot comprehend what it means to be discriminated against, to live life in subjugation, a second citizen in a world you create..

The many worlds around me, that I so naively believe thread into mine in some way. ..

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Pointless…

Sometimes all you can do is believe..

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An excerpt from Walden

There are so many passages I love from Walden..This excerpt is for the Now.

“A written word is the choicest of relics. It is something at once more intimate with us and more universal than any other work of art. It is the work of art nearest to life itself.It may be translated into every human language, and not only be read but also breathed from all human lips;-not be represented on canvas or in marble only, but be carved out of the breath of life itself……….

…Books are the treasured wealth of the world and the fit inheritance of generations and nations. Books, the oldest and the best, stand naturally and rightfully on the shelves of every cottage. They have no cause of their own to plead, but while they enlighten and sustain the reader his common sense will not refuse them.” ……

– Henry David Thoreau (Pg.67)

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Red carnations…

Red carnations, keep me company this evening..You and me at the window looking out at the Rain form rivulets in the stadium..

Keep me company through this night too, like you did the last one. Your red will break the monotony of black and white text.

Perhaps, if you will, the morning too..

These transactions will wither away in time… But your stunning bloom would have made some sweet moments of my life..

Perhaps, isn’t this what all associations are about?

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India pulses

Somewhere in Dwarka, a butcher welcomes his customer in crisp English and insists that his assistant speaks English too. Ann, a British expat in Dubai, in her conversation with Johann Hari of The Independent, tells him, “It’s the Emiratis at the top, then I’d say the British and other Westerners. Then I suppose it’s the Filipinos, because they’ve got a bit more brains than the Indians. Then at the bottom you’ve got the Indians and all them lot.”

In Pune, a 17 year old rejoices at the prospect of going to Brown to major in Astrophysics with Music and Russian as her minors..
Russia- the land of Lenin. Lenin- who our communist party leaders worship little knowing that power for him came at the cost of bloodshed. Russia shuns communism today, to us, it is still a venerated religion.

A young girl working at Ernst and Young in Bangalore packs her vacation in Dubai. In this city of city of One Thousand and One Arabian Lights, there are hundreds of Indian workers whose passports have been snatched away, whose human rights have been grossly violated and yet they toil away with just hope and faith standing them good stead.

Somewhere in Mumbai, Rubina’s (of Latika Jr. fame) father wants to give her up for adoption to the highest bidder.

I sit in the comfort of my room, with the warm company of DMB, in the (presently) idyll world of academia.. Who am I to judge?

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Before I forget

In my class on entrepreneurship the other day , we got off to discussing ethics among small business owners. Now, the area is admittedly very grey and not one that I’m particularly fond of discussing. Yet, it was a one off paper that I had stumbled upon and I was flatly disgusted by the methodology the authors had adopted.

Prof. M got talking about virtues and what the biggest crime could possibly be. He then referred to Gandhi’s statement that Truth is the biggest virtue, Lying the biggest crime. During his childhood, this had apparently got my prof thinking long and hard. His interpretation is that, lying brings about a dissonance within yourself. You know that your actions and your thoughts are not congruent and hence you sin. While one may argue that taking someone’s life is a bigger crime, he points out that, for a jihaadi, his deeds are but a natural outcome of his ‘Truth’…
Much the same way, the cannibals in the Andamans are a protected tribe..

Sir then went on to elaborate.

He said that he would feel guilty if he was driving a ‘big’ car on the roads while there were many on the roads walking by. While the society ensured that he was entitled to his car on account of the fact that he had earned it, he could not make peace with the fact that he did not require such a vehicle for the mere purpose of transportation. This to him was an incongruence within himself .

I’m not sure where I stand on this. ..What was charming about the conversation was that it was in no way irksome or patronizing -just very black and white..And it gave me plenty of food for thought.

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Take it ..

It’s one of those phases again ..And instead of fighting it, I just let it tide by..It’s easier accepting it than resisting it. I’m not happy taking it lying down, but it’s not worth the battle..

I love planning ..Chalking out a schedule, setting targets, meeting deadlines..I like the rush..It makes me sleep easy at night.

But right now, I can’t do it..For now,it’s one thing at a time..Right now- i feel like the beach, let’s go ..Right now, it’s a drunken moment, i like the sound of the waves.. Right now I’m sleepy, let the breeze sing me to sleep..Right now, I wish to read, let me get me a book. ..Right now, makes me happy..No plans, no expectations, no benchmarks, no strife.. Just , right now.

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Dave Matthews and a Stream of Consciousness..

So much to say . By my self again, drive me out of my brain. When I’m walking by the water..splish splash.. To my head and my soul I’m blown away……. Someone in the heavens looking back down on me – I’ll never know… I’m falling into a dreamless sleep again.. I hear more than I’d like to.

So much to say.. Your secret’s safe with me…But where are you going? I have no answers for you ..Don’t let the troubles in your head steal too much time.. No one ever stops to talk or thinks about it – if they ever did..

What if God shuffled by?

Well I found the truth friend let me whisper in your ear.. A little taste of the good life, Whether right or wrong, Makes us want to stay, stay, stay for awhile

I dream myself a thousand times around the world. .. When I do this , I’d do it for you..

I do know one thing for sure.. Is where you are, is where I belong

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Nonetheless

When you’ve been long enough in a city, you begin to have those special places you love going to. Your roads, your shops, you favorite eating joints.. Like Khan chachas and Sugar n Spice in Delhi where we’ve spent countless days growing up..Or
Kusuma Haranath silver shop on Commercial street where I can go every time I have the blues and know with such therapeutic certainty that I’ll find me a trinket that’ ll make many- a sunny morning..
Or for that matter the Only Place, where it isn’t just as much about the culinary delights, as it is about the several triumphs we’ve celebrated..
It’s for the warm memories these places kindle that i guess, I’ll keep going back .Quite obvious, you might say. But somethings are just like that isn’t it. Elemental, innate.. Just like I’m writing because it’s the only thing I want to be doing right now.

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Of some things gold..

I , with obnoxious naivete believe I will keep in touch with all whose company I cherish.. And I look back and see that there are some who are dearest, and yet I haven’t spoken to them in eons..Sure I miss them..sure they’re irreplaceable in my life..But life carries me on in its own odd ways..

This post is dedicated to some whom I’ve met over the last two years..I would’ve always wanted to tell them this.. But writing comes so much easier to me..There’ s a color that each of them has splashed on my life..

Proolz: I will never call her by this name..I just refer to her here by this abominable word( heaven knows who named her that!) She’s allowed me to be insanely myself whenever I’m around her..As for her random moon sightings, and spontaneous campus walks, God doesn’t commit such lovable anomalies very often . and for that she will be loved and missed..white is what this lady brings..

Achukuttys:We’ve been through so much strife together that it’s made all the terrific times we’ve had so much more splendid.. She’s that one person whom one gets on one’s wavelength once in a long long time.. It’s so much fun hanging out, checking out guys or like super- awesome clothes..Or bitching about loved ones at Atticas..Better still, giglling away about random yo-ness found in abundance among some species..All this under the perfectly valid assumption that we’re perfect! I could hide her behind another name.. but I love calling her this way..she’s the violet in my life..

The Stud Brother: Push me a year back in time and i would wash my mouth with soap if someone forced me to say this..But summers and a year thence, I’ve got a nice lil brother whom I can get exasperated with and yet love soo much ..He’s earth brown for me..

My(supposed) look alike: Thank god she is so lovable..I would’ve hated being mixed up with a not- so nice person.. Fancy this .” Hey I heard you were bitching about me” ( one tight slap!) .Or “hey, why’re you messing around with my boyfriend?”( cat fight follows) …Instead i’ve been mixed up with one of the most charming women ever…what an honor!she’s the cool sky blue…

Presi: He’s not presi to me..I’ve known and loved him well before that.. So to me he’s that person you can run to any of time of the day and know you wont have to leave till your troubles are all but thin air.. All said and done, I laugh at his jokes, whatever achukutty says… they’re funny, in their own right..:) He’s yellow for sunshine!

Chotaa:I got to know her just a few months back..And i love her so..She can just win you over with her naive banter…Color me baby pink!

The meticulous one: One of my first friends in college…We also sat close by for all three terms of first year..so that made us partners in many annoying snickering session.. she’s one of the most creative people around..not to mention resourceful too….I love talking Fab India with her..To me she’s all colors Indian..

There are so many more whom I want to write about. More for a memoir, an archive than any other reason. .I’d like to believe i will….But now,it’s time for a midnight walk..

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