There is this girl I know
She was so small some years ago,
but she looks bigger than me today.
There is this girl I know…
who makes everyone smile
wherever she goes
she has angels by her side
There is this girl I know...
who fears nothing that comes her away
except the silly mangy dog gone astray
There is this girl I know…
who has dreams in her eyes
her love and her words of compassion
humbles even the aged and wise
There is this girl I know…
who came into my life
one fine morning fifteen years ago
she’s my not-so little sugar ‘n spice!
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Thursday, August 27, 2009
10 Reasons why I love Delhi...
1. The brilliant night-time driving on the wide well lit roads.
2. The fact that every colony has a shop selling Kathi-rolls, kebabs and momos!
3. How all the shopkeepers from the salesman at Shoppers-Stop to the guy selling kolhapuris(A kind of Indian Slipper) at Central Market to the fruit vendor reply to the call “bhaiyya”( Elder brother).
4. The crazy bollywood masala music on radio which makes you want to dance in the middle of the road.
5. The abundance of key-makers around every corner to ensure easy access to your home/car in the event you lose your precious keys.
6. Riding in cycle rickshaws in the rain in Delhi University.
7. The fact that you can wear a hot red lipstick, flip-flops and a Hawaiian print shirt OR a saree in the middle of the day while shopping and still feel comfortable.
8. You can be half an hour late for a meeting and still be on time.
9. The realization that you can stop your car anywhere on the road anytime you feel like.
10. The long green stretch from Panchsheel Club to Chirag Delhi Flyover.
2. The fact that every colony has a shop selling Kathi-rolls, kebabs and momos!
3. How all the shopkeepers from the salesman at Shoppers-Stop to the guy selling kolhapuris(A kind of Indian Slipper) at Central Market to the fruit vendor reply to the call “bhaiyya”( Elder brother).
4. The crazy bollywood masala music on radio which makes you want to dance in the middle of the road.
5. The abundance of key-makers around every corner to ensure easy access to your home/car in the event you lose your precious keys.
6. Riding in cycle rickshaws in the rain in Delhi University.
7. The fact that you can wear a hot red lipstick, flip-flops and a Hawaiian print shirt OR a saree in the middle of the day while shopping and still feel comfortable.
8. You can be half an hour late for a meeting and still be on time.
9. The realization that you can stop your car anywhere on the road anytime you feel like.
10. The long green stretch from Panchsheel Club to Chirag Delhi Flyover.
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Karma Quotient
As I my mind dwells on the pages of the books I put down some minutes ago, I realize that my hands might have stopped turning its pages, but its words are still hanging like vapor on a humid day around my head.
It’s a little disconcerting when thoughts collide, not angry, brutal thoughts but just thoughts of existence, death and other things in between. So I have to take a minute here and perhaps come to an amicable solution.
Is it possible that my existing notions of karma being settled in this very lifetime are giving way to the concept of reincarnation of souls? I was always an apostle of the theory of the neutral playing field-whatever goes around comes around, and not in the next lifetime or the lifetime after that, but in this very life itself. But Hindu mythology, and others, particularly the author of the book I’m reading say otherwise. It is over a period of many lives that we settle our debts and make up for our wrongs. It takes time, and we come back again and again until that is fulfilled. So, as we all let out a collective sigh for that lie we told that morning and think it won’t come back to us just yet, I say think again.
Maybe, it is possible for both these thoughts to co-exist, I wonder. We have often heard of some past life encounters sometimes from an old friend whose neighbours aunt started calling out names of her Rajasthani grandparents in a former life, or courtesy the evenings news featuring some child in a rural village in Haryana speaking fluent French. Bhagvad Gita also validates the concept of reincarnation when Lord Krishna tells Arjuna that he would return millennium after millennium to restore order and re-establish principles.
“yada yada hi dharmasya glanir bhavati bharata
abhyutthanam adharmasyatadatmanam srjamy aham
paritranaya sadhunamvinasaya ca duskrtam
dharma-samsthapanarthayasambhavami yuge yuge”
Translation
Whenever and wherever a decline of righteousness and a predominance of unrighteousness prevails; at that time I manifest myself personally, O descendant of Bharata.
Apart from this reference there are several other references in the Gita that directly assert that the soul is eternal and it takes the human form over and over.
“acchedyo'yam adahyo'yam akledya'sosya eva ca
nityah sarva-gatah sthanur acalo'yam sanatanah”
Translation
As a person gives up old and worn out garments and accepts new apparel, similarly the embodied soul giving up old and worn out bodies verily accepts new bodies.
Source: www.bhagvad-gita.org
So, assuming that we do re-incarnate over and over until we achieve a higher learning curve, there has to be something that is applicable to this life as well. I mean c’mon I cant believe we run amock lawless in this life, thinking, hey-it’s A-OK because, I will settle it all in the next life, and even better, I won’t remember any of it! I think, there needs to be a cut off line as to what we can pass on to our next life and what we must settle here in this lifetime. Like you know, a minimum amount due kind of a feature we have in our credit card statements. Those initiated in the ways of plastic money would know what I’m talking about.
So lets say, there should be a dossier somewhere talking about various permissible wrongdoings we can set off in this life, and then those which are carried forward to next life, much like the accumulated depreciation for those familiar with the accounting world. So ideally, ideally we should try and restrict our offences to the Schedule A of the dossier (wrongdoings that can be set off in this lifetime) to ensure a comfortable life in the future. But, then again, comes the question, if we already committed say a Schedule B (wrongdoings that are carried forward to the next lifetime) offence say within the first thirty years of our existence, so one might think that since we anyway have to bear the brunt of that in the next life, we might as well go crazy committing Schedule B offences, right?
So we incorporate some clauses to make this right. For instance there could be a Clause A.1 specifying the number of Schedule B.1 (least offensive) offences that will ensure an increase in future lifetimes. Ex; If an individual indulges/commits “x” activities listed in Schedule B.1, then the number of lives he must appear in to absolve himself/herself (or to write off those activities) will be defined as LnB1= n+x/3, where “n” is the number of the lifetime in which he/she committed/indulged in that lifetime and “LnB1” is the total number of lives the individual must appear in as per lifetime “n” because of offense committed under Schedule B.1.
Therefore the increase in lives over this one by virtue of committing a Schedule B.1 offence can be written as:
LB1=LnB1-n ; where “LB1“ is the lifetime determinant by virtue of offence committed under Schedule B.1
Similarly we have;
LnB2= n+x/2; where “LnB2” is the total number of lives the individual must appear in as per lifetime “n” because of offense committed under Schedule B.2.
LB2= LnB2-n; where LB2 is the lifetime determinant by virtue of offence committed under Schedule B.2 (moderately offensive)
And;
LnB3= n+x; where “LnB3” is the total number of lives the individual must appear in as per lifetime “n” because of offense committed under Schedule B.3.
LB3= LnB3-n where LB3 is the lifetime determinant by virtue of offence committed under Schedule B.3 (most offensive)
Another clause that is of critical importance is Clause A.2. This would probably have something to with the quality of the future life as determined by the present one. So if an individual curtails his activities to Schedule A, although he will pay for his Schedule A offences in this lifetime, the quality of his future life(s) will proportionately decrease. (Like, even if you pay the minimum amount due on your credit card statement, you’re fine, but you still got to pay the interest on the remaining amount).
So we have Qn+1= Qn. (1/x); where “Qn+1” is the Quality of life in the life following the present life. “Qn” is the Quality of life in the present life and “x” is the number of Schedule A offences committed
.
KQ= {LB1(Qn+1)}+ {LB2(Qn+1)} + {LB3(Qn+1)}; where “KQ” is Karma Quotient by virtue of wrongdoings.
One might wonder, that there should be another element to the Karma Quotient. Which works on the basis of the good one might have done over the period of his/her life. We won’t dwell on that in the section because, by virtue of THAT I’m sure coming back as a rodent in the next life. I’m not ready for that realization yet. So watch this space for Karma Quotient-the sequel.
Considering the way our population is escalating, it would be difficult to work with the above algorithm and expect a fair answer to an individuals Karma quotient. There might need to be a case-by-case study, which might be beyond the comprehension of an artificial intelligence. And then again, the very comprehension of drawing up a Schedule A and B of the dossier will have the best of philosophers stupefied. After all is there a universal right and wrong? Is there a universal truth or lie?
Perhaps, that’s why we have a God.
It’s a little disconcerting when thoughts collide, not angry, brutal thoughts but just thoughts of existence, death and other things in between. So I have to take a minute here and perhaps come to an amicable solution.
Is it possible that my existing notions of karma being settled in this very lifetime are giving way to the concept of reincarnation of souls? I was always an apostle of the theory of the neutral playing field-whatever goes around comes around, and not in the next lifetime or the lifetime after that, but in this very life itself. But Hindu mythology, and others, particularly the author of the book I’m reading say otherwise. It is over a period of many lives that we settle our debts and make up for our wrongs. It takes time, and we come back again and again until that is fulfilled. So, as we all let out a collective sigh for that lie we told that morning and think it won’t come back to us just yet, I say think again.
Maybe, it is possible for both these thoughts to co-exist, I wonder. We have often heard of some past life encounters sometimes from an old friend whose neighbours aunt started calling out names of her Rajasthani grandparents in a former life, or courtesy the evenings news featuring some child in a rural village in Haryana speaking fluent French. Bhagvad Gita also validates the concept of reincarnation when Lord Krishna tells Arjuna that he would return millennium after millennium to restore order and re-establish principles.
“yada yada hi dharmasya glanir bhavati bharata
abhyutthanam adharmasyatadatmanam srjamy aham
paritranaya sadhunamvinasaya ca duskrtam
dharma-samsthapanarthayasambhavami yuge yuge”
Translation
Whenever and wherever a decline of righteousness and a predominance of unrighteousness prevails; at that time I manifest myself personally, O descendant of Bharata.
Apart from this reference there are several other references in the Gita that directly assert that the soul is eternal and it takes the human form over and over.
“acchedyo'yam adahyo'yam akledya'sosya eva ca
nityah sarva-gatah sthanur acalo'yam sanatanah”
Translation
As a person gives up old and worn out garments and accepts new apparel, similarly the embodied soul giving up old and worn out bodies verily accepts new bodies.
Source: www.bhagvad-gita.org
So, assuming that we do re-incarnate over and over until we achieve a higher learning curve, there has to be something that is applicable to this life as well. I mean c’mon I cant believe we run amock lawless in this life, thinking, hey-it’s A-OK because, I will settle it all in the next life, and even better, I won’t remember any of it! I think, there needs to be a cut off line as to what we can pass on to our next life and what we must settle here in this lifetime. Like you know, a minimum amount due kind of a feature we have in our credit card statements. Those initiated in the ways of plastic money would know what I’m talking about.
So lets say, there should be a dossier somewhere talking about various permissible wrongdoings we can set off in this life, and then those which are carried forward to next life, much like the accumulated depreciation for those familiar with the accounting world. So ideally, ideally we should try and restrict our offences to the Schedule A of the dossier (wrongdoings that can be set off in this lifetime) to ensure a comfortable life in the future. But, then again, comes the question, if we already committed say a Schedule B (wrongdoings that are carried forward to the next lifetime) offence say within the first thirty years of our existence, so one might think that since we anyway have to bear the brunt of that in the next life, we might as well go crazy committing Schedule B offences, right?
So we incorporate some clauses to make this right. For instance there could be a Clause A.1 specifying the number of Schedule B.1 (least offensive) offences that will ensure an increase in future lifetimes. Ex; If an individual indulges/commits “x” activities listed in Schedule B.1, then the number of lives he must appear in to absolve himself/herself (or to write off those activities) will be defined as LnB1= n+x/3, where “n” is the number of the lifetime in which he/she committed/indulged in that lifetime and “LnB1” is the total number of lives the individual must appear in as per lifetime “n” because of offense committed under Schedule B.1.
Therefore the increase in lives over this one by virtue of committing a Schedule B.1 offence can be written as:
LB1=LnB1-n ; where “LB1“ is the lifetime determinant by virtue of offence committed under Schedule B.1
Similarly we have;
LnB2= n+x/2; where “LnB2” is the total number of lives the individual must appear in as per lifetime “n” because of offense committed under Schedule B.2.
LB2= LnB2-n; where LB2 is the lifetime determinant by virtue of offence committed under Schedule B.2 (moderately offensive)
And;
LnB3= n+x; where “LnB3” is the total number of lives the individual must appear in as per lifetime “n” because of offense committed under Schedule B.3.
LB3= LnB3-n where LB3 is the lifetime determinant by virtue of offence committed under Schedule B.3 (most offensive)
Another clause that is of critical importance is Clause A.2. This would probably have something to with the quality of the future life as determined by the present one. So if an individual curtails his activities to Schedule A, although he will pay for his Schedule A offences in this lifetime, the quality of his future life(s) will proportionately decrease. (Like, even if you pay the minimum amount due on your credit card statement, you’re fine, but you still got to pay the interest on the remaining amount).
So we have Qn+1= Qn. (1/x); where “Qn+1” is the Quality of life in the life following the present life. “Qn” is the Quality of life in the present life and “x” is the number of Schedule A offences committed
.
KQ= {LB1(Qn+1)}+ {LB2(Qn+1)} + {LB3(Qn+1)}; where “KQ” is Karma Quotient by virtue of wrongdoings.
One might wonder, that there should be another element to the Karma Quotient. Which works on the basis of the good one might have done over the period of his/her life. We won’t dwell on that in the section because, by virtue of THAT I’m sure coming back as a rodent in the next life. I’m not ready for that realization yet. So watch this space for Karma Quotient-the sequel.
Considering the way our population is escalating, it would be difficult to work with the above algorithm and expect a fair answer to an individuals Karma quotient. There might need to be a case-by-case study, which might be beyond the comprehension of an artificial intelligence. And then again, the very comprehension of drawing up a Schedule A and B of the dossier will have the best of philosophers stupefied. After all is there a universal right and wrong? Is there a universal truth or lie?
Perhaps, that’s why we have a God.
Monday, August 17, 2009
An Ode to the Compass
The roads are many,
The right ones are few,
This night is good as any
for I have promises to renew
The distance stretches out,
The journey is sparkling new,
I will travel till the end of time,
Even if hurts to say adieu.
Lost are some on roads,
Consumed are some by pain,
Nostalgia is a feisty demon,
Farewell drives many insane
I stand on a dusty corner,
In the distance the mountains call,
I pray for a guide, a direction
Point me to my being, amidst this squall.
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Flutter,Flutter.
Maybe it’s the day, and I feel the collective sense of euphoria Indians feel this day, maybe it is the Codeine Phosphate in my system sensitising me to inane stimuli, maybe it is books on past-life therapy that are making me think beyond the usual realms someone’s imagination can run to. Whichever one of these reasons are inspiring me to write this, what is really transpiring is that these kites I see flying in the sky, have me in a symbolic trance of sorts. Life isn’t much different from these paper carved creatures whizzing past each other this evening. A gust of wind lifts them high, a lull heaves them down. A slight ease in the tenacity of the string has them lunging for the earth, a firm pull has them fluttering with a cautious abandon. And then, out of nowhere, come these predatory kites, cut your string, have you plummeting to the ground. You grope around some, pick yourself up, tie another string, and wait, wait for that gust of wind.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
10 Steps to International Drivers License acquisition
My love and need for bureaucratic government departments doesn’t seem to die out. It even instills in me this generosity to make available details of the application process on my blog. Now that is some love I’d say.
1.Requirements: Ability to breathe in depleted oxygen levels and a dash of resilience for the sporadic brusqueness that may come your way. Apart from these two pivotal requirements (I say pivotal because their absence can spin your head oh so round) you’d also require a pen, glue, original license, original passport, original visa , photocopies of the before mentioned three documents and 4 passport sized photographs. (it’s actually 3, but in case you find a cute guy/girl lined up behind you, you can inadvertently drop the extra photo with your number written behind it.:) In case you were thinking, if that’s how I meet men, then no you’re wrong. Transport Department has boring crowd. Try the same at the Passport office. ;)
2. Queues are a myth created by mankind but fear not -some gumption goes a long way : The enquiry counter is always the hotspot at places where a lot can go wrong( and it does go wrong). The place in question here, also had one of course with a motley crowd standing around it. My attempts to locate a queue were in vain because there did not seem to be one. So three very kind gentlemen see right through the very opaque looking me and manage to get ahead in the crowd, I realize it’s time to put the next man in place. And put him in place I did. Excerpt from the conversation:
Me: Do you mind Sir? There is a queue here. (No there wasn’t a queue, but I got there first!)
Disgruntled boy: Frowns (in reply)
(Crowd in front of me thins out, and as I head towards the counter…)
Disgruntled boy: (to man behind counter) I’m a tool. I’m a tool. I’m a tool. (Of course he didn’t say that, I don’t really remember now -*malicious grin* )
Me: Aap ko samajh nahin aaya? Queue! (Don’t you get it you doofus, there is a Queue here)
Disgruntled boy: (amidst grunts and snorts) Kya queue? (What queue?)
Me: Push-Nudge-Look defiant. REPEAT.
3. Room 217: The beautiful symphony of application for the international driving permit is conducted from this room. Kind of like the Vatican of the International License application process. Here, you must produce your passport and license, quickly grab on to a form handed out to you to fill and listen to the list of documents required to be submitted (mentioned above in the same post) in sweet rapture.
4. Medical Examination-Fear no more!: Now one of the documents that need to be provided is a medical certificate. Not having had the foresight to have thought of this prior to my decision to embark upon this joyous mission, I realized I’d have to pay a visit to the in house doctor at the transport department building who had a room juxtaposed to room 217. (No, I exaggerate, it was down the hall☺). On indicating my desire to get a medical certificate I was instructed to fill another form. The doctor then proceeded to sign the same and ten minutes and fifty bucks later I had a certificate attesting my good health and happiness.
5. Room 217: See, it all comes back to room 217. You can’t do one thing here without the approval from Room 217. So I was going to do just that.
Me: “Look at my shiny new certificate! What prize do I get for it?”.
ANSWER from Room 217: “ You get to pay the fee and get the hell outta here!”
( Note: This conversation happened ONLY in my head)
6. Paying the fee: Now there was a serpentine queue outside the room you go to deposit the fee. This freaked me out a little bit. Thoughts of self doubt starting crawling down my back, later I realized it was perspiration. A few questions later, I realized that was not the queue I was suppose to be a part of. As it turned out there was no queue for depositing the fee for the international driving permit. So that was pretty darn quick. Five hundred Rupees, does the trick.
7. Room 217: Fill up a booklet (which is going to be your LICENSE btw) and sign your name in a couple of places with a flourish, after presenting the receipt for depositing the fee. You are then told to come back in the afternoon.
8. The return: This happens in the afternoon. Did for me atleast. We are required to hover around Room 217. (Remember-the temple?). A nod beckons us inside, and we are handed the documents and booklets and instructed to go to room 211.
9. Room 211: Not as important as Room 217 as you may have figured. But this room holds the key to cementing the entire process. The holy grail of all of the twenty million signatures that are required on the booklet.
10. Room 217,Yawn: So now, you know you’re almost done. So you have a smile playing at the corners of your lips. You present the documents with an unparalleled confidence. The guy stamps it at a zillion places, and just when you think that there is no surface area left for the green stamp to leave its mark except the wood on the table, the guy looks up with triump. Woohoo! It’s done!
1.Requirements: Ability to breathe in depleted oxygen levels and a dash of resilience for the sporadic brusqueness that may come your way. Apart from these two pivotal requirements (I say pivotal because their absence can spin your head oh so round) you’d also require a pen, glue, original license, original passport, original visa , photocopies of the before mentioned three documents and 4 passport sized photographs. (it’s actually 3, but in case you find a cute guy/girl lined up behind you, you can inadvertently drop the extra photo with your number written behind it.:) In case you were thinking, if that’s how I meet men, then no you’re wrong. Transport Department has boring crowd. Try the same at the Passport office. ;)
2. Queues are a myth created by mankind but fear not -some gumption goes a long way : The enquiry counter is always the hotspot at places where a lot can go wrong( and it does go wrong). The place in question here, also had one of course with a motley crowd standing around it. My attempts to locate a queue were in vain because there did not seem to be one. So three very kind gentlemen see right through the very opaque looking me and manage to get ahead in the crowd, I realize it’s time to put the next man in place. And put him in place I did. Excerpt from the conversation:
Me: Do you mind Sir? There is a queue here. (No there wasn’t a queue, but I got there first!)
Disgruntled boy: Frowns (in reply)
(Crowd in front of me thins out, and as I head towards the counter…)
Disgruntled boy: (to man behind counter) I’m a tool. I’m a tool. I’m a tool. (Of course he didn’t say that, I don’t really remember now -*malicious grin* )
Me: Aap ko samajh nahin aaya? Queue! (Don’t you get it you doofus, there is a Queue here)
Disgruntled boy: (amidst grunts and snorts) Kya queue? (What queue?)
Me: Push-Nudge-Look defiant. REPEAT.
3. Room 217: The beautiful symphony of application for the international driving permit is conducted from this room. Kind of like the Vatican of the International License application process. Here, you must produce your passport and license, quickly grab on to a form handed out to you to fill and listen to the list of documents required to be submitted (mentioned above in the same post) in sweet rapture.
4. Medical Examination-Fear no more!: Now one of the documents that need to be provided is a medical certificate. Not having had the foresight to have thought of this prior to my decision to embark upon this joyous mission, I realized I’d have to pay a visit to the in house doctor at the transport department building who had a room juxtaposed to room 217. (No, I exaggerate, it was down the hall☺). On indicating my desire to get a medical certificate I was instructed to fill another form. The doctor then proceeded to sign the same and ten minutes and fifty bucks later I had a certificate attesting my good health and happiness.
5. Room 217: See, it all comes back to room 217. You can’t do one thing here without the approval from Room 217. So I was going to do just that.
Me: “Look at my shiny new certificate! What prize do I get for it?”.
ANSWER from Room 217: “ You get to pay the fee and get the hell outta here!”
( Note: This conversation happened ONLY in my head)
6. Paying the fee: Now there was a serpentine queue outside the room you go to deposit the fee. This freaked me out a little bit. Thoughts of self doubt starting crawling down my back, later I realized it was perspiration. A few questions later, I realized that was not the queue I was suppose to be a part of. As it turned out there was no queue for depositing the fee for the international driving permit. So that was pretty darn quick. Five hundred Rupees, does the trick.
7. Room 217: Fill up a booklet (which is going to be your LICENSE btw) and sign your name in a couple of places with a flourish, after presenting the receipt for depositing the fee. You are then told to come back in the afternoon.
8. The return: This happens in the afternoon. Did for me atleast. We are required to hover around Room 217. (Remember-the temple?). A nod beckons us inside, and we are handed the documents and booklets and instructed to go to room 211.
9. Room 211: Not as important as Room 217 as you may have figured. But this room holds the key to cementing the entire process. The holy grail of all of the twenty million signatures that are required on the booklet.
10. Room 217,Yawn: So now, you know you’re almost done. So you have a smile playing at the corners of your lips. You present the documents with an unparalleled confidence. The guy stamps it at a zillion places, and just when you think that there is no surface area left for the green stamp to leave its mark except the wood on the table, the guy looks up with triump. Woohoo! It’s done!
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Life Lessons Over Greek Salad
As the Camarero brought the salad over to my side of the table, I was curious as to taste that it would have to offer. It was no surprise though, when it turned out to be devoid of any mote of salt even. Not to be deterred by the absence of sodium chloride and other flavourful substances, I promptly proceeded to spruce up the multicolored salad (which had guest appearances by feta cheese and green pitted olives) with salt, oregano, olive paste and chili flakes. I intended to make the most of my culinary moment. My gastronomic ambitions can not be crippled so easily I thought to myself, as I instructed the garcon to sprinkle freshly ground black pepper on the revamped salad.
Maybe it was the salad or maybe it was the dim light at the Italian restaurant or the fact that I was eating a Greek salad at an Italian restaurant, either way, I realized in a state of stupor, that little moments in life or hell, life itself, is like a plateful of insipid salad. Agreed, the salad was more edible than some of the grotesque things that comes our way on a daily basis (if you’ve hit a particularly low point) or the one of those dementor like apparitions that confound us once every full moon with the occasional werewolf like demons. But really, those dark ghosts and ghouls aside, life mostly deals us raw vegetables without seasoning.
Now, the first reflex of any individual who unknowingly ordered the insipid salad, who is obviously looking to broaden the horizon of his/her palate, would be to grimace, look around helplessly, crib/complain to fellow diners then settle down deep in the seat with a submissive shrug. Some individuals with particularly resilient and pugnacious genetic material would argue some and get their order replaced with a run of the mill spaghetti arabiatta. Same applies for banal life situations. A boring day, a lonely hour, a particularly hackneyed moment.
What I would advocate is (by virtue of sheer experience-not that I have much of it, but I am writing this so yes, read on), a sincere look around the table. Oft, there are enough spices and condiments to make that moment come about. I sure found the requisite amount to save the Greek salad from the abyss of the garbage dump.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Thoughts of España….and some other nebulous ones thrown in for good measure
A year ago, when I watched Thierry Henry score a splendid goal for FC Barcelona at Camp Nou against Real Valladollid, little did I know that at this time of the year I’d be packing my bags to move to the country of Paella, Flamenco and some kick ass football. Living in France for three odd months I knew I had a special affinity to this part of the world, what with the Café Crème’s, Lemon Meringue’s and leisurely walks around the streets in the ear numbing cold, becoming a daily ritual of sorts. Ofcourse, there were the evenings fraught with loss of dexterity at the impending thought of preparing a meal to feed myself, but I somehow managed to survive courtesy goat cheese pizzas, crazily concocted fajitas, hash browns, baguettes, gouda cheese and Haagen Dazs.
At this point, I am mighty curious as to what life of a doctoral candidate would entail. I can picture myself with thick glasses (thicker than the ones I wear now) bent over Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations or Hofstedes Culture’s Consequences in dim candlelight with a magnifying glass. (I guess my imagination is fueled from some book written in the1800’s). Apart from this mental image from the dark ages, there are the reoccurring thoughts of travel to Prague which have me walking on the Charles Bridge at midnight listening to the Moonlight Sonata as the light from the nearby houses bounces off the sparkling river. As I am lost in this reverie, a part of me brings my thoughts back to Spain.
I am the kind of traveler who loves all things travel. The pre-planning, the planning, the journey, the travel, the wandering, the unpacking. All of it. Even the wait at airport is something I can take in without much grumbling.(No, I am not on Prosaic)So of course, the days leading up to the date I leave for Madrid, are of as much significance as is the actual arrival and the post arrival days.
Visa application, Ticket Booking, accommodation hunting online, opening a bank account, purchasing insurance and several other mundane tasks that ought to be carried out in this phase, make one feel even closer to the destination than they might be in reality. So having visited the Spain Embassy twice now and looked at a thousand apartments virtually, I feel I am already there, living the Spanish life, the Sombreros and the Siestas all included.
At this point, I am mighty curious as to what life of a doctoral candidate would entail. I can picture myself with thick glasses (thicker than the ones I wear now) bent over Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations or Hofstedes Culture’s Consequences in dim candlelight with a magnifying glass. (I guess my imagination is fueled from some book written in the1800’s). Apart from this mental image from the dark ages, there are the reoccurring thoughts of travel to Prague which have me walking on the Charles Bridge at midnight listening to the Moonlight Sonata as the light from the nearby houses bounces off the sparkling river. As I am lost in this reverie, a part of me brings my thoughts back to Spain.
I am the kind of traveler who loves all things travel. The pre-planning, the planning, the journey, the travel, the wandering, the unpacking. All of it. Even the wait at airport is something I can take in without much grumbling.(No, I am not on Prosaic)So of course, the days leading up to the date I leave for Madrid, are of as much significance as is the actual arrival and the post arrival days.
Visa application, Ticket Booking, accommodation hunting online, opening a bank account, purchasing insurance and several other mundane tasks that ought to be carried out in this phase, make one feel even closer to the destination than they might be in reality. So having visited the Spain Embassy twice now and looked at a thousand apartments virtually, I feel I am already there, living the Spanish life, the Sombreros and the Siestas all included.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Invincible
I never thought to be that person who would grieve the loss of a pop-icon. But here I am dedicating this blog to Michael Jackson-He who rocked my world for some twenty odd years, and will continue to do for many years to come.
Michael and I go a long way back. Somewhere in the early 1990’s someone gifted me the album “Dangerous”. And since that day all the colours were either “black or white“. Even as years progressed dear Michael always managed to figure in my life somehow. Whether it was “Give in to me” as suggested by a very special person at a point of time, or “Stranger in Moscow” downloaded after the very positive recommendation from a friend, MJ has given me music that has given shape to so many of my life memories. The drives on roads along the Mandovi in Panjim, would have been so different without his Grammy nominated “ You are not alone”. I know these words are fraught with nostalgia. But that’s what music does, a familiar tune is enough to push you down those old paths. Music lives on forever.
In the opinion of some cynics, revering Michael Jackson could possibly be a result of the mass adulation wave that rose tsunami like when the news of his death became public. But then, the eternal optimist (recent converted) that I am, I’d have to say, such was his impact on music in the decades gone by. I am not writing this to reiterate the accolades he might have to his name-we have the wikipedias of the world to do the needful on that front.
It has been asserted by some publically , and some even close to me that the death of Michael Jackson is fortuitous in that it leaves the world a safer place for children. Now, I agree allegations and suspicious out of court settlements have marred MJ’s career since the early 1990’s, add to that several rhinoplasties and idiosyncrasies and you have someones life all mangled on the front pages of tabloids worldwide. Michael Jackson was a singer and a great one at that too, the world loves/d his songs and moves, yet somehow when all the media frenzy came to do the rounds, we seemed to promptly forget his forte and decided to focus on all the negativity. I am not saying we ought to condone his misdoings, but amidst all the controversy it is imperative to remember that MJ was an individual, and like so many of us out there, had some flaws. Agreed, being a public figure everything does tend to get completely out of proportion and makes for lucrative headlines. All of us have some dark secret in our lives at some point of time, and it would be highly unpleasant to see it being sold at a few cents a piece on a newsstand. So maybe this once, we can let a great singer rest in peace, and remember him for what his music was: Invincible.
Michael and I go a long way back. Somewhere in the early 1990’s someone gifted me the album “Dangerous”. And since that day all the colours were either “black or white“. Even as years progressed dear Michael always managed to figure in my life somehow. Whether it was “Give in to me” as suggested by a very special person at a point of time, or “Stranger in Moscow” downloaded after the very positive recommendation from a friend, MJ has given me music that has given shape to so many of my life memories. The drives on roads along the Mandovi in Panjim, would have been so different without his Grammy nominated “ You are not alone”. I know these words are fraught with nostalgia. But that’s what music does, a familiar tune is enough to push you down those old paths. Music lives on forever.
In the opinion of some cynics, revering Michael Jackson could possibly be a result of the mass adulation wave that rose tsunami like when the news of his death became public. But then, the eternal optimist (recent converted) that I am, I’d have to say, such was his impact on music in the decades gone by. I am not writing this to reiterate the accolades he might have to his name-we have the wikipedias of the world to do the needful on that front.
It has been asserted by some publically , and some even close to me that the death of Michael Jackson is fortuitous in that it leaves the world a safer place for children. Now, I agree allegations and suspicious out of court settlements have marred MJ’s career since the early 1990’s, add to that several rhinoplasties and idiosyncrasies and you have someones life all mangled on the front pages of tabloids worldwide. Michael Jackson was a singer and a great one at that too, the world loves/d his songs and moves, yet somehow when all the media frenzy came to do the rounds, we seemed to promptly forget his forte and decided to focus on all the negativity. I am not saying we ought to condone his misdoings, but amidst all the controversy it is imperative to remember that MJ was an individual, and like so many of us out there, had some flaws. Agreed, being a public figure everything does tend to get completely out of proportion and makes for lucrative headlines. All of us have some dark secret in our lives at some point of time, and it would be highly unpleasant to see it being sold at a few cents a piece on a newsstand. So maybe this once, we can let a great singer rest in peace, and remember him for what his music was: Invincible.
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