Three's a Crowd

So, it’s the third birthday of my blog.


A quick review of statistics.

2008: 32 posts, >> 2009: 6 posts, >> 2010: 1 post

*dies of shame*

A lot has changed since I last frequented this space; memories, friends, music, philosophy – some created and some forgotten by The Seeker. So I decided to make this post a sort of 3-dimensional time capsule for my own entertainment and potentially, yours.


3 things that have changed over the last 3 years:

- Have kindled and stoked a keen interest in the human psyche.
- Have become an active participant in the cancer community: Mom recently completed one year as “survivor”. *woot*
- The amount I write has decreased and the amount I talk has increased.


3 things that haven’t changed over the last 3 years (not likely to change in a long time):
- Inherent optimism.
- Weird sense of humour.
- Clutter.


3 few things I’d like to have changed 3 years down the line:
- Improve patience levels with people I interact with, both in real and virtual worlds.
- Musical taste, to be more familiar with classical ragas.
- The dank and sad existence of this blog; will hopefully get more time to blog now.


That said, it’s now time to wait for the rusty old cogs to get up and running and hope for better stats next year :D

A Musician's Comeback

The curtains parted to reveal
His standing steadfast silhouette.
It was exactly like his dream
His name the crowd chanting away.

"Is it worth it?", he asked himself.
"To tear the scar so loth to heal
To calm the fire I have beheld
To fire the calm that's soothing me?"

Emerging from his reverie
He balked to find a rhythm missed.
He knew it couldn't be easy.
"Let the note come soon", he wished.

The pain at first, it rent him up;
His chords sustained in A-minor
And he just knew that he'd give up
Though yet he fought his losing war.

Through the haze of pain and parting
He felt familiar warmth and tone.
Tingling through his fingers, mounting,
Resounding through his every bone.

What he beheld was sheer beauty,
Of Will in glorious astrals draped...
She was within, she was with him
And he knew this time it wasn't faked.

In the glory of his victory
None could lead his mind astray.
For he, within his mind, could see
His glowing negative silhouette.

(A theme similar to my earlier post- I Pluck Away)

The Piper’s calling me to join him!

The hum of life drummed morosely in my ear. No will to do any more than exist, like I was living someone else’s life for them. Until I heard Life drumming the rhythm to bring my Hero Queen back to life. Until I re-discovered the thrill of cycling from the first chapter of It’s Not About the Bike (Lance Armstrong).

(Fresh with the knowledge of having the holes of cancer burning through his body, with a few days left to live) Lance Armstrong writes -

I was in shock... ‘Oh my God, I’ll never be able to race again’. Not ‘Oh my God, I’ll die’. Not ’Oh my God, I’ll never have a family’. These thoughts were buried somewhere down in the confusion. But the first thing was ’Oh my God, I’ll never be able to race again’.

These lines jolted me back to my cyclist self. An uncontrollable urge took me – to experience the surge as I glided down the slopes of Yeoor. I almost couldn’t wait for evening.


It’s a chilly windy day, overcast; the kind that makes you dream that it’d snow in Thane. I dug out a warm sweatshirt, afraid that the wind would catch me unawares as I cycled. (It ended up around my waist later as I zoomed about).

My Queen was waiting for me, draped in pigeon shit of the last 3 months. Brakes > check, guards > intact (not vandalised); I decided that some air in her tyres and a good oiling was all she required. And we were off.



It’s a little embarrassing to admit that I usually take the easiest routes about; warming up on the numerous slopes of Lok Puram and then advancing to those of Vasant Vihar -Siddhachal and finally Lake Upvan. I have never cycled beyond that, but I have never felt the inclination to. These are by far the most scenic, least congested and above all, the easiest routes to pedal.





Wheeling her to the cycle-wallah and panting up those darn slopes, I sorely regretted having sold off my hand pump! Anyway, once Queen was fixed up, I kicked her pedal up into place and with a gigantic push... I was suddenly home. Funny how you can miss something so sorely and not know it. I hadn’t even begun to imagine how much I needed that rush. As I sped down the familiar slopes, the wind blew every last thought out of my head. (Immediately, I wish it hadn’t, because I nearly rammed into an oncoming bike. Hehe. Mental note to retain road sense next time I get a high like that).


But what exhilaration! Every molecule on those familiar roads was like a long-lost friend I’d met again. Every speed-bump, every pot-hole was by some weird trick EXACTLY where it had been 6 months ago. (Shows... It’s not the TMC’s complacence; it’s the extra congestion that ruins the road-experience for everyone; even more reason to take to bicycles. QED)


I made a quick stop at Pop’s office to show off that Queen is out again.

And contrary to what I’d imagined, I was actually able to cycle the slope up that leads back home... (A feat I have never been able to achieve on first day back to the cycle)... THAT was the extent of my rush.


I was alive... Apart from the pounding heart, the blood gushing through my veins so fast that my arms itched, the fresh oxygen making my brain swim, the lactic acid disappearing painfully; everything was secondary. What brought me back to life was the sheer pleasure of the ride.


As I wind down at home drying off all the burnt fat (the sweat, dodo); I realise that the night is going to be rough. Vigorous exercise after a sabbatical of several months is bound to take a toll on my muscles. I happen to not care. I WILL return to my bicycle tomorrow.

Just to experience that thrill of speeding through the streets, of being the master of my own spirit once again.

Dear lady can you hear the wind blow
And did you know...
Your stairway lies on the whispering wind...

संस्कृति या विश्वरीति?

हिंदी दिवस के अवसर पर ब्लॉग अपडेट करने का मोह मुझसे भी अनदेखा नहीं किया जा सका. किन्तु परीक्षाओं और माता के ढलते सेहत के कारण मुझसे यह नहीं हो पाया. हमारे इंजिनियर-गणों में कहा जाता है न -
काल करई सों परसों कर
आज करई सों कल
इसी आदत से मजबूर हूँ :)


चलिए, आपके मस्तिष्क में खौलते सवालों को आराम दे दूं. जब जब इस प्रकार की आशा मन में उभर आये कि हिंदी में कुछ लिखा जाये, तब तब या तो समय न हो, या फिर समीप शब्दकोष न हो ^_^ लेकिन अब तो पारा चढ़ चूका है. कुछ तो लिखना ही है. बात यह है कि हिंदी में, नहीं देवनागरी लिपि में ऐसा कोई निबंध लिखे करीब ५ साल बीत चुके हैं. अब किस बारे में लिखा जाये? दरअसल लगता है यह प्रथम बारी है कि हम अपने मनचाहे विषय पर हिंदी में विस्तार कर सकें. अतः चलिए हम इसी बात पर ज़रा गौर करें कि आखिर हमारी ऐसी अवस्था क्यों हुई है?


अब अन्ग्रेजी तो मेरी मातृभाषा नहीं है. यह क्यों है कि मैं अपनी मातृभाषा मलयालम अथवा हमारे देश को एक करने वाली हिंदी भाषा से ज्यादा इस विदेशी भाषा में वार्तालाप करती हूँ? क्या हम भारतीय युवा फिरंग रहन सहन से इतने मुग्ध हैं कि हमें अपने देश की भाषा का प्रयोग करने में शर्म आती है? माना कि हमारे सांस्कृतिक मूल्यों के कारण हमारी देश में शत-शत भाषाओँ, हजारों उपभाषाओं और सैकडों बोलियों का जन्म हुआ है. लेकिन हमारी सुपठित जनता भला हिंदी को छोड़, अंग्रेजी क्यों अपनाती है?
मैं यहाँ यह कह दूं कि मैं स्वयं इनमे से एक कहला सकती हूँ. मेरे निजी जीवन में करीबन सारी बातचीत ही नहीं बल्कि मेरी सोच भी अंग्रेजी में ही होती है.


हिंदी ही वह भाषा है जिसके बल पर हमारे स्वतंत्रता अग्रणियों ने देश को एक कर अंग्रेजों को घर लौटाया. और आज हम उन्ही फिरंगों कि भाषा को हमारी हिंदी से ऊपर मानते हैं! क्यों, आप नहीं देखते? विद्यालयों में अंग्रेजी ही प्रथम भाषा कहलाती है; हिंदी द्वितीय और मराठी इत्यादि तृतीय. और हाय! फिर किस अदा से छात्र अंगडाई लेते हैं जब उन्हें हिंदी drop करने का सुनहरा मौका मिलता है!


मैं साफ़ सुन सकती हूँ आपके विचार: What a fanatic! आजकल तो globalisation की हवाएं चल रही हैं दुनिया में और इस मूढ़ el Buscador ने "मेरा हिंदी महान" की रट लगा रक्खी है!


मेरा उत्तर उदहारण के तौर पर आयेगा: जर्मनी को ले लीजिये. जर्मन वहां की official भाषा है. सारे पाठ्यक्रम जर्मन भाषा में ही हैं और विदेशी विद्यार्थियों को जर्मन सीखे बिना उनके महाविद्यालयों में प्रवेश नहीं है. और फिर क्या दुनिया में कोई है जो उठकर यह तसल्ली के साथ कह सके की जर्मनी दुनिया के श्रेष्ठ तकनीकी राष्ट्रों में से एक नहीं है?


चलिए अब भाषा को छोडिये. रहन सहन के ढंग पर आ जाइये. युवा आज लता मंगेशकर या पंडित हरिप्रसाद चौरसिया को छोड़ Linkin' Park सुनने में मग्न हैं. प्रेमचंद या पु ल देशपांडे छोड़ Harry Potter पढने में मशगूल हैं. मारुती का ज़िक्र होते ही हंस पड़ते हैं और Ferrari की लाल करते हैं. Blog शुरू की तो उसका नाम Espanol में रखते हैं :) क्या यह सब आप अपने आसपास नहीं देखते? तो आप इस बारे में क्या करते हैं?


पाठक और पाठिका गण, अब भारत की बारी है. अगली सदी में दुनिया हमारी क़दमों में होगी. फिर क्या हम कहेंगे कि हमने यह ईमारत फिरंग उसूलों की नींव पर बाँधी है? क्या हम अपने पूर्वजों के किये कराये को इस प्रकार अनदेखा कर सकते हैं? कहिये, जिस देश की कोख से दुनिया की सबसे प्राचीन सभ्यता का ही नहीं; दुसरे देशों की सैकडों भाषाओँ का जन्म हुआ, क्या वही देश अपनी संस्कृति का आदर करके भाल ऊंचा कर दुनिया में अपनी जगह पर दावा नहीं लगा सकता?


राष्ट्रकवि रामधारी सिंह दिनकर की कविता कुरुक्षेत्र से ली गयी इन पंक्तियों से हम कुछ सीखे...

सहनशीलता, क्षमा, दया को
तभी पूजता जग है,
बल का दर्प चमकता उसके
पीछे जब जगमग है।

क्षमा शोभती उस भुजंग को,
जिसके पास गरल हो।
उसको क्या, जो दन्तहीन,
विषरहित, विनीत, सरल हो ?

* अंत में एक टिपण्णी:
हिंदी हमारी इकलौती राष्ट्रभाषा नहीं है. वास्तव में हमारे देश की १६ राजभाषाएँ हैं. आप विश्वास नहीं करतें? ज़रा अपनी जेब से एक नोट निकालकर उसके पीछे छपी भाषाओँ को गिनिये. अतः किसी को गलत फहमी न हो. इनमें से कोई भी भाषा किसी दुसरे से श्रेष्ठ नहीं है.
http://hi.wikipedia.org/wiki/%E0%A4%B0%E0%A4%BE%E0%A4%9C%E0%A4%AD%E0%A4%BE%E0%A4%B7%E0%A4%BE


* एक और टिपण्णी:

हिन्दी दिवस प्रत्येक वर्ष १४ सितम्बर को मनाया जाता है। १४ सितंबर १९४९ को संविधान सभा ने एक मत से यह निर्णय लिया कि हिन्दी ही भारत की राजभाषा होगी । इसी महत्वपूर्ण निर्णय के महत्व को प्रतिपादित करने तथा हिन्दी को हर क्षेत्र में प्रसारित करने के लिये राष्ट्रभाषा प्रचार समिति, वर्धा के अनुरोध पर सन् १९५३ से संपूर्ण भारत में १४ सितंबर को प्रतिवर्ष हिन्दी-दिवस के रूप में मनाया जाता है।
स्वतन्त्र भारत की राजभाषा के प्रश्न पर काफी विचार-विमर्श के बाद यह निर्णय लिया गया जो भारतीय संविधान के भाग १७ के अध्याय की धारा ३४३(१) में इस प्रकार वर्णित है:
संघ की राज भाषा हिन्दी और लिपि देवनागरी होगी । संघ के राजकीय प्रयोजनों के लिए प्रयोग होने वाले अंकों का रूप अंतर्राष्ट्रीय रूप होगा

(हिंदी विकिपीडिया पर संपादित)


* आखरी टिपण्णी (जी हाँ, मुझे टिप्पणियों से बड़ा लगाव है)

(हिंदी विकिपीडिया बड़ा मनोरंजक पोर्टल है

BREAKING NEWS!

So it's been a long long time, no?

This is certainly not the first time I've had to apologise for too long a sabbatical and like any other Indian professional-in-the-making (hail Sharu Rangnekar), I have an unquestionable excuse.


This time, it's AIEDS - Acquired Information Exaggeration by Doofuses Syndrome. What's that, you ask. As I believe, practical experience is the best way to learn. Let's play a game now. Switch on your television; flip to a news channel. I will now use my extraordinary psychic powers to guess what's on your screen. An image is forming… slowly… yes! It says BREAKING NEWS in large red font. I have no doubt that I'm right.

I love adrenaline in my life, but news channels have murdered it. I no longer perk up my ears and sit up when I see the letters "BREAKING NEWS". I have turned into a cynic, wary of media gone awry.


Here's another exercise for you. Pick up today's newspaper. I bet you a Cheesy Disco Pav (from Relax, no less) that the entire front page is hogged by pieces about long-drawn corruption/heinous murder/atrocious rape/never-ending terror/mind-numbingly threatening epidemics while more pleasant news about achievements/research /good (however rare) government policies/spiritualism lies hidden somewhere on the Classifieds page or something. (Of course, if you looked at TOI, the front page will also be likely to contain some news about one of the frequent ostentatiously humble achievements of the Times Group.)

It irks me no end; this continuous sensationalizing of otherwise less significant happenings. Sex, gore, pigs, new viruses and meanness sell; adorned as they are, in the shiny wrapping paper of faux social responsibility and sensational words like rape-terror-epidemic-corruption. The audience delights in unwrapping this Schadenfreude and then fretting over it.

(A side note: Once while taking up a writing project, a mentor gave me a talisman to test how neutral a news-piece is. It's very simple – Look at how many adjectives the writer has used in the story. An opinionated article would be subtly spiced with adjectives like overwhelming, severe, radical, legendary and the like. They lend a mood to the article. So now you know.)



It is this that COMPLETELY and EFFECTIVELY puts me off wanting to blog and adding to the melee of views and counterviews on the internet. Too many people talking and speculating, too few listening and even fewer acting – this has become the USP of our generation. Yes, it's essential to have an opinion of your own and to share it, but it seems that technology has facilitated opinion sharing to an extent that would provide an effective test-platform for a probability mathematician. (see below)

The Infinite Monkey Theorem:

The infinite monkey theorem states that a monkey hitting keys at random on a typewriter keyboard for an infinite amount of time will almost surely type a given text, such as the complete works of William Shakespeare.

Source: Wikipedia. Read the article here.


I have no simian inclination to hit upon THE right idea for a better world and feel no need to add another monkey to the million; hence my continued absence from the blog-world.

Now I HAVE finally decided, no more. The sensational news is that I'm giving the monkeys some serious competition and that you’re going to have to check back in soon for my views on the world. Maybe with a few personal experiences thrown in.

Yeh hai live report; cameraman Aankhon aur'Kaanon ke saath, El Buscador, Blogspot.

25 things about me that you probably DON’T want to know, but will read anyway.

Going with the flow, I decided to write a list myself. You are allowed to skip reading this if you want.

1. I’m a hard-core Harry Potter fan. I even celebrate Minerva McGonagall’s birthday, enjoy calling You Know Who Voldy, and still can’t bring myself to like Snape, though he was good. I know the difference between a Kappa and a Crup and, in all probability, know more about the series than anyone reading this. I have nothing to say to those who do not empathize. Oh, I do not like the HP movies, least of all, that complete PIG, Daniel. (Did I hear someone say Rupert? )

2. I’m politically incorrect most of the time, without meaning to. I usually realise this fact AFTER the damage is done.

3. I like truth. Honest.

4. I’m mortally afraid of DEAD cockroaches. Live ones do not qualify.

5. I cringe when I hear/read/make grammatical errors and will go out of my way to point out and correct them, except on GTalk/Yahoo Messenger.

6. I despise Marathi-accented English. And English-accented Marathi.

7. I claim to learn Spanish, but after nearly a year’s effort, I still cannot speak/write it fluently. So now you know.

8. Nelly Furtado was my inspiration to start learning Spanish.

9. My blog’s name “Viva del Buscador” means “Life of The Seeker” in Spanish. And I’m fed up of explaining this to people.

10. I’m actually an exchange student from Jupiter, here on Earth to study Ancient Technology. I now regret my choice of subject and university. Just hope my Earth-education doesn’t follow the same course.

11. I have an uncannily uncanny sixth sense, déjà vu et al, déjà vu et al. Weird things happen in my life all the time. Like omens or whatever.

12. But it’s no use because I have this irritating tendency to unconsciously do the EXACT opposite of what I consciously KNOW I’m supposed to be doing.

13. My television screen is smaller than my laptop screen.

14. I don’t like those GRE/TOEFL flash cards.

15. I usually get stuck with a song in my head the day before an important exam
and it takes all my self-constraint to not write its lyrics in my answer-sheet the next day.

16. I learn the Angerthas script from The Lord of the Rings and write porn literature in the script. NOT.

17. I’m making a conscious effortt tto nott pronounce every T as TT these days. But I hate the Karan Johar-T pronounced with zero rolling of the tongue too.

18. I love planes. Especially stealth fighters. No, I haven’t flown in one yet.

19. I love water. Thanda paani, garam paani, peene ka paani, gutter ka paani, shower ka paani, bearish, seas, rivers. I think I was born under Pisces in Sagittarius. I love to swim. It was a childhood dream to be in the Navy, or to study to be a marine engineer.

20. I’m uncomfortable in large groups of people. I prefer one-to-one conversation.

21. I totally despise lack of originality.

22. It’s true; I don’t understand my jokes either.

23. I’m pathetic at teaching/giving examples, but deep down, I know it’s what I want to do. Sigh.

24. I love making random chains of words when my mind is empty. Document. Friction. Ether. Giraffe. Arrow. Ambience. Soda. Leaf. Incredulity. Pulp. Sensor.

25. I’m partial to the letter A. Just.

26. I love to eat. A sumptuous dinner is an incentive to work hard the entire day.

27. Not that I’m particularly religious, but I love Lord Krishna and admire the Bhagavad Gita.

28. I wish I had a larger notice-board at home to plaster with tit-bits from my life. It currently has just 35 things pinned onto it.

29. I love to exaggerate and over-state. Just can’t get enough of it.

30. My favourite plectrum is pink. Go boil your head.

31. I enjoy reading the Oxford dictionary.

32. I am incredulously surprised at Rang De Basanti and people who like it. Ditto for Chetan Bhagat, music director Pritam and Slumdog Millionaire.

33. I used to practise my “satisfied-cat-look” and my “look-of-polite-incredulity” in front of the mirror, because I realised I will need it all the time.

34. I don’t trust people soon.

35. As you might have noticed, once I start writing/talking, there’s no stopping me.

36. Once I set my mind on something, I go into a sort of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder over it. Take guitars for instance.

37. It is dangerous to greet me with a “What’s up!”

38. I’m very indecisive. Sometimes. No all the time. Maybe. Whatever.

39. I like to associate people with songs. When I meet you, chances are, your characteristic song has just started playing in my head.

40. I have a killer sense of smell and associate smells with things around me.

41. It took me a whole day to compile this list.

42. The answer to life, the universe and everything. Zarquon, Doug!

43. Oops, I overshot 25! Ostensibly, I hate Math.

Off the Cuff

Suggetions for your next Valentine's gift, apparently.
Just happened to stumble across this brilliant piece by poet Carol Ann Duffy. She hates to be called "poetess" or "lesbian poet".(Source: Wikipedia)
PS: I don't usually trawl the Internet looking for poetry, much less lesbian poetry, but this one takes the cake.

Valentine
- by Carol Ann Duffy



Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion.
It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.
It promises light
like the careful undressing of love.

Here.
It will blind you with tears
like a lover.
It will make your reflection
a wobbling photo of grief.

I am trying to be truthful.

Not a cute card or a kissogram.

I give you an onion.
Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,
possessive and faithful
as we are,
for as long as we are.

Take it.
Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,
if you like.

Lethal.
Its scent will cling to your fingers,
cling to your knife.