Fickle as the sands of Mahabalipuram

Sand is fickle, it does not stay in your grip, it hides itself in nooks and crannies and is difficult to get rid of, nor does it grow anything, it does not nurture life. It belongs neither to the beach, nor to the ocean, and it's dead, raw and scratchy.

We were leaving Mahabalipuram, a small tourist place with beautiful beaches, lots of foreigners, temples and possibly lots of dope. My sister couldn't find her watch so we decided to go back to beach where we'd bathed earlier and see if we could find it. It was a slim chance, but like responsible good kids, we decided to drag our legs all the way across in the hot sun. We neared the beach where I asked my sister to go ahead alone while I'd wait for her on the edge of the resort. The sea was a deep twinkling blue in contrast with the bright yellow sand that burnt hot under the tropical sun. Oceans, infact all forms of water bodies are my weakness, and I found myself being pulled to the beach behind my sister who was about to turn back after having unsuccessfully looked around for her watch.

"H, lets take one last look at the water", I said, as I neared her. The ocean seemed to be calling us, splashing wave after wave onto the shore.
"But they'll be waiting for us", my sis replied.
"C'mon, we come this far, another few minutes wont hurt", I chided.

I'd almost been dragged away twice that morning as we'd bathed, my boasts about water never killing me had dimmed a bit and I'd seen it's power for the first time, felt it rather, as it sucked us through and threw us back as it played around the coast. Sis consented and as we went towards the waves again, a woman came calling in Tamil, Now I can understand Tamil well, but I don't even recollect the syllables. My sister worked it out that she was calling out to us to get our hands read.
Astrology is a temptation to me. It's not like i don't believe in it, but I don't believe in practicing or using it. Future should be left as it is, in the future. I see it as a sign of weakness, the need to consult your stars while making decisions, nor do I see the point, whether you know about it or not, what will happen will happen, and only the destined will happen. Anyway, enough dragging, the irony of all my drag is that impulse made me call that woman. I asked my sister to ask her her in Tamil what she'd charge to read my hand. She didn't reply but asked me to sit down. And thus started her rattle about me...
"You're a spendthrift", she said (as my sis translated every line). "You look happy out side but you're not satisfied inside, but you have a vision, and that will take you far.
Your body troubles you, it is sick. You think something but something entirely different happens instead," she continued, "if you have the support of someone elder, you will prosper," she kept running a metal stick on my palm. She assured me a long life. "You don't bow in front of God physically, but you believe from within, you don't mingle with relatives a lot..," She also said that the woman I marry will be the goddess of wealth, that I'd go abroad (a practised line that almost every youngster likes to hear I guess). She kept repeating something about a vision, but I guess she meant my perception, which needed a change for my fortunes to turn around. When she started repeating things we decided to pay her and move on. I handed her a Rs. 50 note, and she rattled off again in Tamil that escaped even my sister's understanding.
Then she told my sister she wanted to do something to permanently rid me of all my health and 'vision' related problems... we repeatedly refused to her and ultimately my sis asked her what she'd take for it, and she said, no I don't want anything in return. She said she would perform something on a little twig that I'd have to throw into the ocean after spitting on it (I misunderstood there and spit on the ocean instead) When I came back we started to move on when she said I was supposed to pay her another 350/- for that little hocus pocus she did with the twig, we paid her another 150/- and moved on, her yells following her in indecipherable Tamil.
Sigh.
It's the kind of thing people lean on when they either don't want to make efforts or have little faith in themselves. I have made my own choices in life, and if they're a bit dull, they're still mine, but the whiner in me always pulls a dismal face when I'm asked how I am. This was another silly desperate attempt on his part to hopefully turn his life around into something that can be identified as his own...
Most of the lines the woman said were practised dialogues made o people who need other people to tell them what they are, how wonderful or troubled they are, a tinge of sympathy, a pint of admiration and wonderful useless promises that are never defined into anything specific but have that usual note of 'everything will be alright'.
I feel amused and slightly ashamed of my temporary slip towards this side of whiney losers. I guess it happens to everyone once in a while...
When I looked back, the sky was still a beautiful twinkly blue, the sky bright, the sand bright yellow, as if reinforcing in me my belief, whats to happen will happen, there are no two things about it...

Moving on... and Looking Back

I stuck all my old posters in my new room just before Deewali in a desperate attempt to make my room look like that of my 18 year old self. But somehow, they no longer fit the character of the room. I look at them and realize that the kid who had a million expectations and dreams in his eyes is no longer here.
My old room was a small 10 by 12 with room for hardly anything. It was my first room and I was madly in love with it. It had a single cupboard, a single diwan and a big table. And lots of mess, unholy, lovely mess. And after fitting them all in the room, there was room left only to walk around.
My new room is a huge 14 by 16 with three cupboards, a huge mirror (I hate mirrors), and an attached bathroom. It feels like the room of a married couple. My lovely posters look alien in it, so does the kid who once stood out of his room at four in the morning after having finished reading Harry Potter and the Goblet of fire, slightly shivering in the drizzle and marveling at the skills of J K Rowling. the kid who idolized Snape, believed in magic and had a crush on Hermione....
I was fiercely protective of my old room. I hated having to give it to anyone. And now, I don't really care as long as people keep their hands off my stuff. I hate having a mirror in the room, not that I don't like looking at myself, but just that it doesn't fit my character.
I hate having a double bed to sleep on, drab walls that seem to be politely tolerating my wonderful posters... Most of all I hate the neatness that seems to emphasize on how much I've grown up, how much I've HAD to grow up.
When I was kid, I used to rally as the leader of all the kids (which comprised of my little cousins who thought the world of me). I believed that kids were wonderful, I'd never contemplated growing up myself. And now that I have, I look back fondly at all that I've had, trying to hold on to the feeling, trying to retain the faith, the confidence, the hope.... and the dreams. But the new me has disassociated himself from his child-self. Maybe its important, maybe someday, after a long time, I will read this post and miss my almost 25 year old self...
Growing up is a part of life. We move on from an age, and all its bearings, sometimes glad to have moved on, sometimes pensive at what's been left behind. But one has to learn to grow up too... learn to do justice to every age, so that when we ultimately move on, we have fond memories of ourselves.

when sleep is elusive...

It’s not always possible to substitute thoughts with God’s name.
Doing good work is not always enough consolation for what you get back in return.
Sometimes faith is not enough to overcome fear.
Sometimes, no matter how disciplined, the mind wants more, the body needs more.
It’s difficult, in real life, to always believe that family is more important than money.

These, of course, are all signs of a weaker mind and a weaker body. But then, it’s not possible to be strong every minute.

And then again, there's no alternative to trying to be strong all the time...

Dont curse politics, make an effort to make a difference

A(on the phone) : Hey B! Happy Birthday!
B: Thanx A
A: so how old are you today?
B: 17
A: Oh... so not reached your voting age yet eh?
B: No A
A: *laughs* I reached my voting age about 10 years ago, but I've never voted even once till now!

This was a conversation I overheard between two Indians. Not making specific judgements, but the Indian youth does not give enough importance to thri right to democracy. Most young people dont vote because they think its a cumbersome process, some say it won't make a difference anyway, some are undecided on their politial opinion.
Voting is very important. If you think it is, it means you feel responsible towards your society and your country and that you want to make a difference.
Registration for voting is now easy. Sites like Tata's Jaago re (www.jaagore.com) have taken up the initiative to encourage youth to vote. Each one of us can make a difference, and all of us should.

'Mumbai Meri Jaan'

I watched Mumbai Meri Jaan. Its a movie that has tried to capture a section of human psychology.

An idealist corporate, an over ambitious reporter, reborn from her experience to see her own ashes, as she describes it, a confused communal, a frustrated cop, a desperate poor coffee wala and a realist make up the characters that the movie is centered around. The movie is crafted around their experiences with the Mumbai bomb blasts and life in general.

Every actor is perfectly defined, beautifully simple. Everyone has done such a great job.

MMJ shows that human beings are all, ultimately, victims, ironically of each other and their own selves. Describing the movie here would be doing it an injustice, I'd suggest you to watch it and then come back to the post to know what I'm trying to say. It's one of those honest attempts towards making a positive public opinion. I dont know if that was the aim of movie makers, but its definitely achieved.

Of all the characters, Tukaram Patil, played by the unparalleled Paresh Rawal, is the most sensible of all. He simplifies the philosophy of life into watching a movie, but never acting in it. However, he too, towards the end, speculates his life, his rights and wrongs, questions his realism and ultimately displays a desire to have done more, to do more, better, bigger.... Such are humans, always twisted amongst their own justifications.

Such movies make me forget real life. I chant to myself, its just a movie, just a movie, not real life. It's foolish to let such things move me. And yet, a quiet voice inside me says, its not that far from real life either. In fact, real life, is a lot more bizarre.

The movie ends, and yet does not end, symbolising how life moves on, how things that seem to come to an end are actually just transforming into something else. It is beautiful, it's sensible and it's real.

Whatever happens, whatever the drama, I will try to remember what Paresh Rawal says,
"Khali picture dekhne ka, acting nahi karne ka re'
(just watch the movie, no point acting in it.*reacting to it*)

My new 9 to 5

I keep signing into the blog, wanting to update it, but nothing happens worth updating here.

Life changes every short while... and most major changes slip in gradually.It takes a while before you realize that your life has turned a corner, shifted gears. I've been trying to change y routine. For someone as lazy as I am, taking responsibilty starts with a shock, the shock of finding how much there is to be done when you start doing it. 24 hours seem inappropriate and sleep feels like a scarcely available luxury. I've suddenly started appreciating getting up early, racing to the bathroom before anyone else, wondering where I lost time even if I woke up early, and skipping breakfast to make it in time to the office. It feels good, worthwhile, atleast it keeps my mind from wondering into things that are ... well... not worth thinking.

Sometimes I wonder if people take time to appreciate how precious a normal, peaceful, routine life is.

What The Fuck man, I am forced to think!

In this life, you have the choice of either doing the right thing or believing that what you're doing is right. And trust me neither of them is easy.
Doing the 'right' thing involves first defining what is right. The 'ideal' definitions of right are not always applicable, and yet, asserting that something is right on that excuse doesn't always work either. People think it's thrilling to do something wrong, something out of the way, something the majority of the people believe as wrong. However, these very people don't have the courage, or the maturity to face the thrills of the repercussions.
Society has guidelines on right and wrong. The people of this society have rigid and sometimes hypocrite rules and judgments based on these guidelines. Some people, some very few people have the insight through which they are able to validate these norms of society on the whole. the rest of us either hide behind these guidelines, or rashly believe in doing what we wish, especially what we're not supposed to do in the name of independence.
And of course, some others, lukkhas like me, like to write blogs about it.
I'm not going into specifics here because I'm not sure of my definitions of right and wrong, or perhaps just lack the courage to make a stand on them. But then again, choosing not to make a stand is also taking a stand isn't it?
Here's to a peaceful uncomplicated life, the possibility of which is scarce.
As for believing what you do is right, try as I think, I cant imagine what that could be like anymore. It sounds like a question of confidence and sometimes arrogance... But it's just something I dont trust anymore.

Back from the dead

It can be done for blogs, alas, it cannot be done to people.