Good bye 20s, Hell! Oh' 30s?...

30. Officially old. Officially unattractive. Happy birthday to me :).

With some effort i can see my scalp. Though, from far, i'd seem to have a head full of hair. Everything looks prettier and more wholesome from far.

A recent celebrity dream. I've had them before. But, it's usually just the deed. No run ups, no frills. They're purely functional in nature. Aimed just at hormonal balance. This one was different. A U-Certificate celebrity dream. Late night conversations with Trisha in Thirvanmayur beach. Coffees. MTC bus rides (a definite impact of the 'Aayutha ezhuthu' sequence). We even stood at my favourite bridge in Muttukaad, watching the sun go down. I woke up with a kind of light-headed happy feeling. The kind you get up with when you're in a nice lazy relationship. Or an illusion of being in one, looking forward to the day, looking forward to seeing the face you want to see. I've been there before. But it's been a while and i'm out of touch. So this was a nice dream to dream.

Back to reality. Confounded by a bunch of criss-crosses. Like umpteen others...

Hang on, do better at the current job. Make up for possibly the worst work year in 9 years.

A viable business idea. Quit. Execute it. Be on the move, seeing new places while at it. See how it goes..

Move to the US. Do a part-time Geo course. Spend weekends surfing in Half-moon bay and Santacruz. Get real good at it.

Start a Table tennis school. Cater to cash-rich corporate men/women. And to kids to whose life sport will make a difference. With a proper operational plan, ensure it doesn't go into charity mode and ensure that the kids have their pride and self esteem intact.

Marry? Even have a daughter at some point maybe? Have a family to support and be supported by. The whole nine yards.

Take a year off. Travel around India by the most economical means. Document it. No wordy paragraphs. Just facts. To aid other travellers. And pictures, yes.

Many wants. One life.

Here's to hope, and the road ahead...

Sunrise...

An out of shape sun rising behind a thick cloud cover...Taken in the Gharwal himalayas last year...Again, for Cuckoo's monthly kompteeshun...

If you'd been a beer drinker and turned a vodka drinker, going back to beer could be very very difficult..Way too much effort for the same result...

Dipikaji: Ek vodka large, with lime cordial, soda, 4 ice cubes..

Bartender: Lekin aap normally bade bothal waale Beer peethae hai na?

Dipikaji: Agar wahi nasha, wahi kick, kam milli litres mein mil jaae tho mai bade bothal waale beer kyon piyoon?

Bartender: Maan gae Dipikaji, aapko aur aapki Vodka ko...

Agla kaaryakram 'Rangoli'...

Random post, I can't bring myself to post a post without a title...

The above pic is an entry to Cuckoo's topic for the month, 'Lonely'. A leafless tree/shrub standing alone in a barren stretch always evokes that emotion in me. This was taken during a trek to Kumara Parvatha (that's the second tallest peak in Karnataka, next to Muliyangiri).

It is June and I am still in chennai. Visa gods are refusing to smile. I've been living in a state of transit for way too long. So, instead of waiting for life to happen in Bay area, i thought i should get on with life in chennai. If and when the move happens it'll happen. I read somewhere, forgot whose quote it is, but it goes something like this: 'No matter how far you travel, at the other end you'll find yourself'.

I re-joined the place i used to play Table tennis in. In a couple of weeks i should be playing in the state ranking circuit. It's been a while since i played competitive. Looking forward to seeing familiar faces. If i manage one top-16 finish by the end of the season i'll be more than happy. I think i am happiest playing some sport and being involved in some kind of physically exerting pursuit. In Amit's terminology, playing improves my body's serotonin levels (that's some happiness associated chemical...and Amit is this doctor guy i met at NIM who insists on giving a technical explanation to every mood swing, and his body apparently produces serotonin most when he is climbing in the himalayas :).

Does anybody watch the 'Lok Sabha' channel. It is one of those Dordarshan channels with viewership probably limited to places that are dependent on a Panchayat owned Television airing only DD channels. Anyways, they show these films made by FTII Pune's diploma students and movies that NFDC sponsors and the like. They're all so beautifully made. Like yesterday they showed this short film called 'Saanj' by someone called Jasmine Kaur. It was about this senile old man living alone and a young guy and a girl living next door trying to reach out. It was so beautifully shot and so sensitively done. And almost every movie or short film screened there touches a chord. Probably because of the honesty to story-telling that comes with being a student whose objective is the creation itself and not the returns it fetches. If you get the channel, watch it.

May has come and gone and i am yet to take the year's quota of break. Work scene is not pretty. Hoping to get away by June end or early July, at least for a week. Will do the 'Valley of flowers' trek or do Vaishno Devi, Dal lake and the Taj. Need to do some major 'pulling up socks' act before that to get over the deficit accrued over a listless work phase. Fingers crossed.

Confessions...

A man's worth must be measured by the number of people who come for his funeral. Not the ones who come out of courtesy. Or those who are fulfilling a formal obligation by coming. But the ones who have the urge to look at him one last time. The obscure ones whose presence is largely ignored. The tailor from the street corner. The cycle shop owner two streets away. The mechanic who always mended his struggling scooter. They did not enter his home and offer condolensces. But they were all there during the cremation. Scores of them. Standing in random nooks. Unnoticed. Paying their respects. And leaving as silently as they arrived. He had never realized that his Father had touched so many lives. The gravity of what he had lost would come to the surface much later. He was far removed from the catastrophy he was in the middle of. Insensitive, if you may. But life would change irreversibly. The bridge across to his sister would be broken. His fault. He was an escapist coward. Hiding away in the safety of his hostel. While his sister picked up the pieces, confronted the demons, and held things together. The bridge has been mended since. Bonds re-established. But some mistakes don't deserve a second chance. He was fortunate to have one.

It would be quite a while before he realized the enormity of the loss. He would do it alone, in his hostel room. He would find unlikely allies in P and N. The guys who included him in their fold when he was at the point of losing it. It is strange how the toughest of times forge these strong bonds. Or break seemingly strong ones.

It has been over ten years now. Some snapshots keep coming back. Bicycle lessons on a rented bicycle, 50 paise per hour, two siblings quarreling over whether a 10-minute slot was over, and a fair dad playing judge. An unexpected Hero-Unibike gift to two very delighted kids. Cricket on the terrace. Cricket in the Hall. Dips in Cauvery marked by failed swimming lessons. Early morning scooter lessons, and how his dad wouldn't panic or let him panic when the gravest of mistakes were made on the road. Shuttle in the garden with Mom's saree for a net. Home grown chillies and tomatoes, and at one particular time, even maize. There were no fancy shoes or expensive clothes. No birthday parties and other such frills. But he and his sis would go to the best of schools. Live in nice homes. However bad business was, however tight finances were. His dad always knew what was more important and what wasn't. Always neatly dressed, hair neatly combed, a battered sandal colore suitcase in hand, an asthmatic sneeze as accompaniment, his dad was so full of energy and life, a compulsive optimist, a dreamer who shielded his kids from reality. He would think back of his dad with fondness and a sense of pride. And guilt. And bestow upon him the kindof respect he deserved. A little too late.

Tipsy again..posting again...with apologies to the irate anonymous commenter of the previous post..

I usually go out with a bunch of guys. There is no future with them since i am straight. Or i meet married women or women with boyfriends, fiances and the like (the unavailable kind). I am most comfortable with them since there is no need to appear cool or impress or score brownie points. But at times i wish i was meeting a woman whose feet my feet touch under the table, while we pretend to have a serious conversation about communism or theoritical physics, neither of which either of us have a clue about, and go on and graduate to touching feet without having to pretend. I guess i am too old for such games. But is anybody too old for such games? I've been middle-aged in my head for a while now. I think in the period from 26 to 30, an average human ages a million and 11 years, give or take 3 years.Was chatting with P the other day. When we talk, the topic shifts to my singularity every once in a while. She says "Have an open mind da...u dont have to tell anyone its arranged...but try and meet ppl...u dont have to marry every girl u meet...or any girl for that matter...but its nice to yell at someone in the morning when ur back is killing u...just for that its worth spending a few hours buying someone coffee-tiffen". Wisdom, no?

I used to think blogs were written by sad people with no personal lives. And then i started blogging. I used to think orkut was inhabited by stupid flirtatious 20 somethings with nothing better to do. But then i joined orkut. Buying a house, spending lakhs on a concrete piece, used to be an unthinkable idea and that's exactly what i did recently. Metamorphosis or wishy-washiness, term it as you please. I used to think arranged marriages were acts of desperation that i couldn't relate to. I don't think so any more. I am not out in the market. But when a friend tries to hook me up with a random being that he/she knows, i don't turn it down the way i used to less than a year ago...

ps: TQ, see, i can be tipsy and talk only about myself too. Am not all that nice :).

Drunk...after a really long time...

Drink very rarely these days..get drunk even more rarely...And alcohol doesn't tickle my brains no more...Still a high does not feel bad...Went with P and V. Occasion was what i mentioned in the previous post, the concrete piece.

Am a big fan of P. I've grown to respect him for his work ethic and brilliance, and love his company for the sense of humour with which he deals with everything. V is a long time friend. Haven't really worked with him, but anyone who knows him will like him.

Random talks...Beer...Wine...Rum...Of how much our dads have done for each of us...the schools we went to...the education we got...despite the lean patches our parents went through...the things they gave up for our good..the platform that helped us get where we are..Of past love lifes, or the imagination of an existence of one, or some...Of bulbs* given, bulbs got...names withheld of course...events are more important than the people they happen to...More beer..more rum...Of what we think is in store...V will live on in chennai...likes his life...likes his wife...is pragmatic...is a husband and a dad...P is engaged...gathered enough courage recently, to tell his fiance, that he kind of likes the effect alcohol has on his head and his life...he is still engaged, so things are not too bad...And as for me, i am looking forward to leaving chennai...Living in the bay area...Writing code for a living...Being around Sis and Bil a lil...Figuring out if i'd like earth sciences as much as i fancy it...The more i talk about leaving chennai, the more i feel i am going to be around for longer than i desire...Lets see...

Am beginning to wonder if there was any point to this post...So i'll read some news for the record...Important things have happened to people important to me...P put kutti and she calls her son Sanjay...fully nice only...D got her divorce and she can plan and look forward to the rest of her life...When she called me to tell me of the divorce, she sounded happier than what people sound like when they call me to tell me they've found someone...Made me wonder about the whole cycle...Sis has heart-burns, cant eat sambhar saadham, cant drink wine...and i find the former more tragic...B became an entrepreneur ...i am skeptical about his venture's success, but badly hope it does well and he makes it big...M became a nomad..G got domesticated...And i know you couldn't care less about the goings on in the life of V or P or Sis or B...but what to do..i am drunk...and these are the only things drunk fingers can type...so...so thats all...i am going to crash right now...

*Bulb - Chennai (Tamilnadu?) terminology...X likes Y, Y doesn't like X enough => Y gave Bulb to X. Understand?

Where i tell you i am this regular average bloke in a roundabout fashion...

When the desire to board a train, any train, ticket in hand, bag on the shoulders, and no destination in mind, overwhelms the need to be engaged in the regular chore of writing code to make data frames travel from point A to point B (which, for most parts, would help random people download porn faster), the reality of having to pay EMI for the concrete piece that i've collected for myself, tilts the scales and decides things for me. How the fuck did i bring this upon myself?

Ok, i am being dramatic. I had said this some time ago. But last year i had taken a month's break. By the 4th week i was itching to write code, fix bugs, attend meetings and all that. I realized, for me, work gave a better illusion of purpose than climbing mountains or wandering. And a notion of being purposeful is important to be happy, no? Anyways, once this big existential question had been addressed, and i knew i'll continue to be overpaid for some time atleast, i decided to give in to the easier of my mom's two long pending requests, the 'Why don't you buy a home' one. That we were ousted from our previous home by the landlord helped too. I now owe HDFC a lot of money. And i own a home some 200 metres from the Thiruvanmiyur beach. Feels scary. Feels nice. I feel secure. I feel bogged down.

Meanwhile Mani has quit his job. Pooja quit her's a while ago. And they are on the road on a Thunderbird, indefinitely. I'll try and enjoy their travels, vicariously. And maybe visit them for weekends once in a while. Yep, thats more like it. Mad work schedules interspersed with short breaks and travels, and a Himalaya darshan for the summer (deciding between Nepal and Sikkim this year). Taking a vacation suits me better than living one i guess...

Taare Zameen Par..

I wish Aamir's entry had been less dramatic. And it reminded me of Robin William's entry into the cancer ward in 'Patch Adams'. Calvin's 'Spaceman spiff' avatar must've influenced Ishan's '9 X 3' solution (am glad that scene was there though). And the movie should've probably ended at the point where Ishaan leaves the hostel early on the day of the contest, to take in the scene for his painting, Aamir's voice in the background. Leaving loose ends gives things a beauty mundane completeness doesn't. It is good when movies, like life, end with us wanting more of it. But we did love to see Ishaan win the contest. We did love the look on the kid's face and the lump on our throats when he sees that Aamir has drawn a portrait of him. Who are we kidding! I am glad the movie did not end earlier than it actually did. We want to see it all. We are incorrigible. It was a beautiful movie. Loved it.

About the dog and the deaths of random people...

The dog is no longer there. The white one that used to remain curled up on the landing of the staircase. That takes me up to my work place every day. The dog was a daily sight. A comforting one. What reason, i do not know. I hope it has found a new home. I am not a big fan of dogs. I am not the animal lover kind either. Except that i don't eat them. But this dog had endeared itself to me somehow. Every day i would think of feeding it the Good Day biscuits from the cafeteria i so hate. Never did it. There are so many things i think earnestly but never do. Next time i see that dog, i'll feed it Good day biscuits first thing. It is funny how random beings affect your life. Like the time when 'Monal' died. I was oddly sad. She was Simran's cousin and had come down to try her luck in Tamil films. She had commited suicide. I was coming back from Munnar. With a bunch of friends. And saw posters splashing news of her death at the Dindugal bus stand. And i was hit by this weird sense of grief. As if someone dear was gone. Or the time when Hrishikesh Mukherji died. Atleast i loved his movies. How the mind's strings get pulled to make you feel a certain unexplainable way, i haven't a clue. But i hope the white dog has found a peaceful nook to curl up and sleep...

Mai bhi happy new year post likhoongaa...

So, 2007 has come to an end. I tried hard to make the earlier sentence sound less lame and cooler and all but couldn't. So i settled for "So, 2007 has come to an end". I dont understand how people like Pri, Partly Cloudy (this blog is no more, so sad) etc manage to be so funny, serious, breezy, poignant etc so effortlessly (all in the same post at times, and for most parts Pri is just extremely funny, i simply like using the other adjectives!). I am so jealous. Discovered a few other really nice blogs too. Ok, that's not the point of this post. We are not making speeches about strangers' blogs. We are doing a happy new year post.

I must remember to write the correct year in the cheques this year. And also tear check(this spelling is so much easier) leaves from the right check book. No more free Rs.393s ICICI. Sorry. That's Resolution #1. Yes I make new year resolutions.

Was your year any good?

Mine was...hmm...Lemme see...I added a new colour to my beard. White. Used to be only black, brown and grey. Now there is white too. Good no?

And then i hung around with this crowd of very youngish people for a while. People who still looked at the world through rose-tinted glasses. The kind that would go to Beasant Nagar beach for 'Friendship day' and tie 'Friendship bands' on each others' wrists! Find rose coloured heart shaped balloons cute. Find stuffed toys cute. Forward mails with subjects that read "This is so cute!". Generally use the word 'cute' a lot. Ok, you get the drift right..It was a nice happy crowd, but truth be told, i started hanging out with this group primarily because i was drawn to a certain someone in it (i am normally more comfortable around jaded cynics:). But some things are not meant to work. This one certainly wasn't i guess. So, on the morning that the certain someone was leaving Chennai for good, we met at Marina, stared at the sea for a while, spoke very little, and said our Good Byes. We even gave each other parting gifts. To remember what we could've had but didn't quite have by.

And then I had a tooth pulled out. Man that was so violent! Was shocking. And had a root canal done. If i had a choice i would prefer a heart attack or something. I think i should knock of all teeth and get a set. Be done with them once and for all! Fucking teeth! I still have 2 fillings to be done. It is worse than going to a proctologist!

And then i waved to atleast 35 people while shitting and they waved back (some of them were at it themselves and some weren't). No, seriously. Now, how many of you can stake a claim to such a feat hun? [Pats self on back].

The 'And then's remind me of 'Hey dude where's my car'...Remember the scene where they're in a car and are ordering food at a drive in and an automated voice keeps going on and on repeating 'And then' 'And then' 'And then' even after they're done with the orders and they get all irritated and bash up the machine and the machine continues to say 'And then 'And then' anyways, but now in a funny electronic voice and all...It was a lame movie but that scene was hilarious. And I am digressing. Ok one final 'And then'..

And then i e-mailed a blog stranger and even met her. Now, please bring down those raised eye-brows and stop rolling your eyes. I guess P's "Being open to new experiences" fundaa is kind of rubbing off on me. Plus my extreme boredom helped too. But it was actually a rather nice thing to go through. I was very sleepy and i can't remember much of the conversation (Except that she mentioned Drivers' license a few times. C, don't call me names :). But i came off it feeling vaguely nice and wanting to do it again when i was more awake. Plus, I had nearly forgotten the notion of looking forward to e-mails...

And yea, the high point of the year was, surviving the basic mountaineering course at NIM. Even literally (16400 feet you see. Now i am bragging. Shall stop. Sorry.). But the lull that followed the course, in terms of treks and travel, is not a good sign. Amends to be made. Resolution #2 - Spend less time at work. And more importantly, when you are at work, just work (Resolutions applicable only from tomorrow, i am currently at work you see :)..

This post has become too long. I am yawning. And so shall you if you've come this far...

2007 was not bad after all. But very few things are bad on hind sight no? The past is, for most parts, comforting. It is like home. It may not be a fancy place with italian tiles and acrylic paints. But you're comfortable in it's red oxide and cement and white wash...

I hope to leave Chennai in 2008. Atleast for a bit. Need to do that to keep my love for the city intact :). If things go as planned i should be in the Bay Area by mid 2008. But do things ever go as planned? Eyes looking west and fingers crossed...

Anyways, to those passing by, wishing you much happiness and other such pink stuff this year. Have a good one...

Of Doing the right things...

Eddie Willers, in 'Atlas Shrugged' would've been asked as a kid, what he wants to do when he grows up. And he says "To do the right thing". That, for me, was one of the most telling statements of the book. He is not in the same league as John Galt or Francisco De Anconio. But he gives his best shot and leads an honest life and always, always does the right thing.

Saw 'Evano oruvan' a couple of days back. Loved it for it's intent. 'Evano Oruvan's' Sridhar Vasudevan reminded me of Eddie Willers for some reason (there are no striking similarities, just that i thought 'Sridhar Vasudevan' lived by that 'Eddie Willers' statement). He is not a hot shot super competent genius. A regular bank employee leading a run-of-the-mill life. But, with unshakeable integrity. Someone who keeps the rights right and the wrongs wrong and does not compromise just because that is the more convenient thing to do. He is pushed to a wall. He snaps, breaks free, and goes berserk. The movie had some profound moments. The scenes with the street-dweller/artist, the Madhavan monologue in the middle of the night, the police-officer's monologue at the end, to name a few. The police-officer's monologue, in particular, was quite hard hitting.

I wish Madhavan had revisited and modified some of the dialogues he penned. While some of them were good, some of them were quite cliched. But a theme like this, i'll gladly ignore all the flaws and lap up the movie.

I am not naive enough to think that movies are going to transform a society. Most people prefer being pragmatic to being honest and right. Parents want to get to the Gods quicker. They bribe the priest. The kids are watching. A generation of kids is infected. A bunch of freshers join a company. They see the seniors busily filling out fake 'Rent receipts' and fake 'Medical bills'. A generation of tax payers is infected. You can make umpteen 'Anniyans' (which is a lousy movie by the way, stay away) or 'Evano Oruvans', nothing will change. Our folks are not that stupid or that impressionable. Nevertheless i am glad 'Evano Oruvan' was made....

Current affairs

Life has been stagnant for a while. A few eventful things did happen. But they weren't very pretty. So at 29 you suddenly feel 95. You hate being in brood mode for too long. It is a viscious cycle. Negativity breeds more negativity. Forgive the cliche, but life is much simpler when it is a series of check boxes and you haven't started questioning things yet. You want to be in your class magazine's editorial board (just so that P thinks you're a cool chap). You want to score 90+ in math and science (just so that your dad could think for a fleeting moment that you're as smart as your sis). You want to be in your school's TT team for the Montfort tournament in Yercaud. You want to sit next to P and watch a movie in Kailasapuram Club (that never happened, but you're quite satisfied with just a smile from her while picking up your bicycle after the movie). You want to land an admit in a decent college. You want to land a job. Any job. Just to get you out of an unexpected tight spot that presented itself. You want to make peace with your sis for a nasty situation which is mostly your doing. Some things go your way. Some things dont. But you're happy when things go right and when you're sad you know exactly why.

But suddenly, the rest of the check boxes do not appeal to you. Or so you've managed to convince yourself. And you think you're in the wrong place doing the wrong things and time is just passing by.

When you have this vague dissatisfaction gnawing at you and you don't even know why, it is tragic. Now, you don't really know your problem, or, are you pretending? When you keep telling yourself that there is more to life than having a companion, are you being totally honest? Would you ever shed your ego and admit that you don't totally enjoy the idea of being by yourself most of the time, reading by the beach, travelling alone to Uttarkashi or Hampi or Kerala. That you'd rather that there is someone who tags along. Someone you could talk to, drink with, sleep with, share cigarrettes, darkness, life and secrets with. I am not a regular smoker, but sharing a cigarette with a companion does not sound too cancerous.

Shit!, did i sound too needy? I'll probably come back tomorrow, knock this post off and write a pseudo post about how it is so cool to be absolutely independent and on your own all the time. But until then, please deal with the honester version. Applications to fill the void are being accepted. You must be female, single and a shade crazy. Drinking, smoking and an appetite to travel are preferred qualities. We could replace alcohol with coffee and cigarrettes with biscuits, but it wouldnt be quite the same, would it? From my side, i promise to be nice, loyal and honest. I cut nails and hair very rarely and shave once a month utmost and have 35 grey coloured t-shirts. When i receive no applications, i'll start posting anonymous comments.

Waaththa fuck...

Otha. Pronounced as Oaththa or Waaththa. Depending on conditioning. It is a tamil word that translates to 'Fuck'. Emitting this word loudly calms me a bit. The english equivalent doesnt. But where i come from it is considered cool to say 'Fuck'. Cooler if you say it aloud. And way cooler if there are women around and you announce you dont care. But you say 'Otha', you are a lungi wearing truck driving lecherous pervert. I dont have anything against lungi wearing. Or truck driving. But i might have something against lecherous perverts. So if someone thinks i am one i wont like it. This has had some serious repercussions. Around here, kids are brought up to beleive "Man saying Otha = Very bad man". And going by last year's opinion-pool, men kindof grow out it, but women dont. So basically my chances of hitting it off with with any tamil-knowing girl were ruined. Same applies for non-tamil-knowing girls who know tamil-knowing girls (cos tamil-knowing girls tend to protect non-tamil-knowing girls from 'Very bad men'). That pretty much covers all the girls in my RADAR. And i hold this and only this fully responsible for my singularity :). Now you see my problem. Tch tch...

ps: If i find a otha-emitting girl i'll pursue her unto death...

pps: Is this problem local to just tamil. I mean if you're a telugu speaking guy and you shout out 'Dhengu' (that's telugu for 'Fuck'), and the girl you might probably fancy is in the vicinity, would she think of you as anything more than scum (atleast to start with) ?

Overcast...

The Beach...


Dark skies. Ice-cold rain. Stormy winds. An extremely rough sea. A desolate thiruvanmiyur beach. 5 people in all. A boy-girl rosy eyed pair. I liked them instantly. Just because they were there at that point. Two other strangers, an umbrella apiece. And me, a helmet on my head, and the rest of me getting wet. Troubles? What are they? Life is all bliss...

But then, the skies clear. The winds cease to blow. The sea calms down. And real life resurfaces...

Haridwar...

Dear River...


Saffron...


The girl in pink...


Ganga-mayyaa ki jai ho!...


Haridwar. Another place i fleetingly dipped in, in transit. There are so many places like that. That i managed to pause, take a look, before moving on (When you are on a highway, and you see these narrow lefts with jaded signboards announcing obscure names, do you wonder about that place and the people there, and have the urge to take that turn?). And almost all of them have left indelible marks behind. Because of the brevity, maybe. Had a day to kill and i had to choose between Taj Mahal and Haridwar. Laziness and the Delhi-heat helped me settle for Haridwar.

I wanted to take a dip in the Ganges(Har-ki-paudi) and witness the Ganga-aarathi. When i go to a place of prominence for the first time, i always do the things people typically go there for. Explorations of 'beynond the typical' would happen on future trips. So i took a Rickshaw to Har-ki-paudi. I would've normally walked.But walking was all i had done for an entire month. So decided to pamper myself a bit.

I got off at Har-ki-paudi. Saw the Ganges rushing by. Wandered around aimlessly. A 'Sadhu' walked upto me, put a Tilak on my forehead, chanted something in Sanskrit. Then he asked me for money. I smiled at him in response. He had a very serene face. He smiled back and walked on. I regretted not having parted with some money. But i wouldn't have liked it if i had paid him either. So it was alright. Then i decided to take a dip. The water was quite cold. But not unbearably cold. What hit me was the speed, the swiftness of the flow. Was in the waters for a while, letting the Ganges cleanse me(for me, only in the literal sense)...

And then it was time for Ganga-aarathi. Happens twice a day. At 7 am and 7 pm. It was a frenzied affair. I was unprepared for the kindof collective energy being vented out. It was impossible to keep myself from feeling one with the things around me. There was a moment's envy when i saw people whose faith was so nakedly visible. There were uniformed guys hawking wishes from Ganga-Mayya, 100 bucks per wish. There were quite a lot of buyers. There were a couple of firangs capturing Indian mysticism for other firangs. And then there was this little girl in pink, holding a pink and green camera. She was a darling. She befriended me with an array of curious questions. And then she asked the firang about his camera. And for every response of his, she claimed her camera could do that too. I actually felt paternal. Took me by surprise. The actual aarathi was a visual treat. The darkness and the fire. It ended with the entire crowd singing a Bhajan on Ganga-mayyaa in chorus (the tune was that of the Bhajan 'Om Jai Jagadeeshahare', which i love). I got a high.

I sat by the river for some more time. I walked back to my hotel room rather slowly. Original plan was to go to a bar, get a drink and then crash. But i wanted to stay in a totally conscious state. Didn't want the blur of alcohol at that point. So i went to a restaurant instead, ate, spoke to M (who was on vacation in Delhi), and got back to 'English August'...

This experience increased my resolve to see Allahabad's Kumbh Mela atleast once...

Unrequited...

He wants her so bad that his entire life centres around her. Or so he thinks. For her, he is a very dear friend. But she can never return his love, on equal terms. He wants to hug her so tight that they be one. That no air pass between them. At times, she suffocates around him. And is too nice and polite to speak her mind.

They sit huddled. Under a thin ice shelter. In blazing sunlight. She feels miserably lonely. He feels lonely too. But just being around her is enough for him. To hang on and hope. She cant bring herself to hurt him. She cant get up and walk. Though a voice inside her head is screaming at her. Asking her to flee. Some day she will.

But why dont they sit at a table and talk. And not pretend. Why cant he confront her with what he truly wants. Why cant she tell him the truth. In honest unabridged terms. And bring his world crashing down. So that he can grow up. So that he can pick up the pieces and move on. Nobody totally moves on. But the process would've atleast begun. And maybe, a semblance of the friendship they used to share can be salvaged.

...Certified...

Our rope with our rope-instructor at the base camp(2nd from left would be me)..



The NIM basic course certificate arrives at work. Had given the office address. Mom is away in sister-land and I am never home. Did not want this to be lost like the innumerable phone bills and credit card bills. Ashwani (the guy who sits next to me and to whom most letters/calls meant for me go...sometimes they call him Avinash too…and of course sometimes I am called Ashwani…is it too difficult to tell the difference?) had collected the cover. He hands it over to me. I take it from him saying that the grade would mostly be a ‘B’. My usual defense mechanism against prospective disappointments. If you want something pretty badly, start by assuming you wouldn’t get it. I ought to change this aspect of myself. It prepares me better for disappointments. But I think at some level it makes me less of a fighter. Of course not everything can be fought for and won. But still…So I open the cover. I have butterflies in my stomach. A voice in my head is crying out aloud ‘Please please be A!’. I have the kind of anxiety I had while looking up semester results in college. May be a little more. Much more actually. I fish out the certificate. There, among other things, it is mentioned “Grading Awarded: A”, “Recommended for Advanced Mountaineering course”. I am thrilled to bits. I think the last time I was this thrilled was when I saw my registration number when PEC entrance exams results were announced. I bask in the glory for a few moments. Someone has a work related query. I answer it. I get on with real life. But a corner of my mind is still smiling…And wondering if I should be doing the Advanced…If I should be subjecting my back to one more stress test…And if I do, should I be going back to NIM or try out HMI Darjeeling (and set feet on Kanchenjunga:)…

Of Pigeons, Sex and looking out the window...

Outside my office window there sits a pigeon. It sits there all day. Looking at the buildings around. Looking at the traffic below. Scratching itself. Making noises. Once in a while another pigeon comes by. They fool around. One sits on top of the other and flaps its wings mad. I think they’ve sex. It is too brief though, so I cant be sure. I am not sure if it is the same pigeon that comes in every time. Are pigeons monogamous? NGC covers only outlandish beings like Polar-bears and Penguins. Has anyone ever seen a program on Crows or Sparrows or Pigeons on NGC or Animal Planet? Aroon in one of his sketches has a boy looking at a fish-tank and wondering “All fishes do is eat, sleep and reproduce. Why do people have to do more?”. The pigeons remind me of this.

Recently, a clichéd (but not insignificant) question floated around at work, about what one would do if he/she had only a day left to live. Most guys said they wanted to attain Moksha (which is an euphemism for ‘having sex’, yea considering how old we guys were theres no need for euphemisms...but it adds to the fun while discussing such stuff). The only girl who said something, said she’d meet all her friends, take them to her hometown, be with her parents etc. I am just assuming she wasn’t being absolutely honest. I am a bundle of contradictions in the Moksha department. There is this (pseudo?)morality hardwired that prevents me from committing the act unless I am sure I want to commit myself to that person. But i find it ok for people to be in a full blown mutually non-commital relationship (that's a contradiction in so many levels :). I can't be them, but i can't fault them either. I am a fan of grey. But was dipped in black and white very young, and for too long, to fully embrace grey. And it is not about marriage or any such technicality (I don’t find the need to legalize relationships), it is just about the state of mind and what one feels towards another. Maybe some day I’ll wriggle out of this state of mind and agree with a friend who says “What the heck, it is just entertainment…why attach so much weight to it?” (though i dont realistically see myself trivializing the act to this extent), or maybe, though not as ‘liberated’ in thought, take a middle ground, or maybe someday tread the ideal path.

Hedonistic Hobo (a random blog that I am a fan of) writes “Look sex is a biological need, not a moral question. If you've entered in to adolescence and are now careening in to elderliness and are still a virgin then you're fucked but not in the way evolution intended.” I smile. I agree. I disagree. I’ve been standing on this border eternally and time has been passing by…

Uttarkashi..

I like small towns. Touristy ones. Quaint ones. Rameshwaram, Hampi, Mahabalipuram, Pondicherry, Gokarna, Yaelagiri, Manali... They're filled with people from far and wide. People of different kinds. Some, energitically running around to squeeze in all the places they had read about, in a 2 day span. Some, sitting back sipping tea and drinking words out of a book. The hippie kind. Without a fixed agenda. Sitting in exotically named eateries that prefer white-skinned customers to brown-skinned ones. You could walk around. Taking in all this. Putting stories to faces. Wondering if India is the only place where the natives are racist against the natives. Wondering a lot of other things. But the air is very holidayee and it is generally nice. The obvious reason is probably that you would be there on a break, and you are predisposed to feel holidayee...but still..

Happened to spend some time in Uttarkashi recently. While at NIM hostel, we were allowed two 3 hour slots in Uttarkashi town for 'shopping'. The objective was to buy essentials before going to the higher altitudes. I was not inclined to shop. So generally walked around town. Ate veg momos in multiple shops. Drank multiple teas. Took random pictures. Sat by the Bhagirathi. Gaped at beautifully arranged coconut slices, arranged against a bright red plastic sheet. Did not take a picture cos i thought i might offend the shop-keeper (i dint want him to go, 'here comes another fkin tourist taking pictures of ppl trying to make a living!'). Bought a slice of coconut and ate though. Then there was this long suspension bridge across Bhagirathi. And the omnipresent Sadhus. Quite a few of them smoking what i beleive is ganja, on a terrace by the river. Pseudo-nirvana. Temporary suspension of reality. Not that it is bad. Quantum smokes of heaven? Tried it once in a far away land. Gives a weird kindof high. Then there was this small temple by the river. Sat there watching faces. Faces earnest in prayer. It is nice to watch people pray no. Whatever they're they'll probably be more inclined to be vice-less at that point in time. Not sure though. At length, my 3 hours got over and i reluctantly walked back to our bus, to resume the brief regimental life. Not before Uttarkashi firmly added itself to the list of small towns i would gladly go back to.

On the way back from Uttarkashi to Chennai, managed to spend a day in Haridwar..will keep that for some other time...

Survived...

28 days. 18 days of it above 11500 feet. 4 baths. 2 T-shirts. 2 pants. 4 underwears. No washing of clothes of any category (unless you are a DIG or some decorated Army officer, in which case you could get special treatment). A place where UK is an acronym for Uttarkashi and RC for Rock climbing (i am yet to come to terms with RC being Rock climbing and not Royal challenge:). Where tea is typically had at 4:45 am. Where you carry ice axes when you go to shit (to make pits), and you wave to batchmates while you're at it (beleive me, after a point, it is not embarassing, and shitting with a view of the Himalayas is no longer surreal)! Where you figure out if your socks is wet or just cold by checking if it is half-solid cos of frozen sweat. Where you're ordered to do knuckle push-ups or frog jumps, depending on the instructor's mood, for acts of indiscipline (like being late for a fall-in). You camp on snow and there is just snow all around. And it is not like being in a dream sequence...it is so fucking cold that you put your hand in your crotch or arm-pits for warmth (i found the former more effective). Along the way you are taught Rock craft, Ice craft, Snow craft, Crevace crossing, Crevace rescue, Map reading and navigation techniques, among other things, and you're taken to a height of ~16500 feet as part of the height-gain exercise. You're made to do things that are so demanding physically that you wish that the course gets over soon. And when it does get over, you hug your rope-mates (the batch is divided into sub-groups of 8, called ropes, and each rope is assigned an instructor), you hug other friends you've made, you hug your instructor, and you think the course was a pretty good thing to go through after all. And when the jeep rolls out of NIM, you look back at the campus fondly, and wonder if you would go back to do the 'Advance' course. (Ofcourse, for that you need an 'A' in Basic, and the inclination).