Folds / Readings

I was reading Deleuze's "The Fold" a week ago and tremendous ideas rolled my head. I have these phases when I heavily start interpreting students' work through the latest reading that I am doing. Sometimes, I feel it's unfair and silly. Many of my ideas and opinions are influenced by my immediate readings...

The fold opened up to me something like Einstein's theory of matter - that every particle's density can be exploded and expanded into large amount of energy. Meanwhile, I keep thinking of shrinkable spaces - spaces which fold (literally) into packets and when unfolded, become large envelops that surround bodies.Yes, although it's a very apt reference for an exercise where we are looking at hawkers, bodies and enveloping spaces, I feel I am too influenced by Deleuze's "the Fold"!

Some time ago, I was reading theories on "Diagrams" or "Diagramming" and I felt that I got carried away in understanding everything around me as diagrams. Reading Stan Allen, Tschumi and Reiser on Diagrams has been enriching and these also feed into my graphics classes. Some time ago, I was reading Koolhaas and I became very cynical of things around me. I guess readings really really engage me and change me...When as a student, I read fountainhead, I almost became a Roark! It was only until someone gave me a reality check that I realized that I had gotten unnecessarily into the character...

Reading Rosalind Krauss's papers on grids influenced me to working with grids in innovative ways, breaking earlier conventions - I designed a whole Graphics exercise on grids last year. Archigram's work influenced my drawings, sketches. Readings of David Harvey again changed my outlook to society and things around me...But readings have made me too academic and I must change the nature of my reading to lighten up a bit...

It would be, I suppose, so futile to discuss "The Fold" with the first year-ites - they don't even understand "anthropometrics" yet! I don't really have any one to discuss ideas here! So I keep listing them! What will happen to these lists I do not know! I feel, theory is an area where one grows through only discussions. I am in a world of my own references!

Globalization & Insecurity

Globalization not only creates cultural homogenization, but also induces a tremendous feeling of insecurity. This insecurity is caused due to the slow rupture of roots from one's own culture, one's own way of living and working. It is a process in which one tries to adapt some new kind of order that is imposed or set by another faculty. Globalization automatically creates minor hierarchies though destroying many others. For example, culturally, most of the developing nations accept the western ways over their natives. The idea of 'imported', or the favour to white skin, the adoption of English - all are indicators of accepting the west as superior, thereby setting an order of aspiration. The sense of not possessing many such (foreign) values creates a lot of insecurity. It challenges one's confidence in one's own culture. 

Image production capitalizes upon and nurtures itself through this insecurity. Today, the entire world is presented to us as an image - through television, internet, mobiles, photographs, etc. What we once lived as memories of distant lands are now virtually available to as as visuals. The fact that we can see and virtually experience a simulated distant reality hybridizes existing cultures thereby creating doubts in everyday living. Doubts begin through comparison and end in homogenization or flattening of cultural practices.

In universalizing English as the communication language, hasn't globalization quietened a lot of people who haven't able to cope up with change? Hasn't it paralysed people who can not use the internet? Hasn't it generated a lot of gap between the immediate generations of fathers and sons? Although people are putting in a lot of efforts to make a tool like the internet as accessible to all people, the language base it uses is still English. I am thinking of the most interesting and subtle folk traditions, cultural practices, of songs, theatre, craft - what would happen to them? We can record and keep everything, but could a Jaipur Music festival at Mehrangarh fort be experienced by images - where the fort walls are equal participants as the performers? Or can the Siddhivinayak be really worshipped on a website - where the smell of the incense or the place makes one feel transported to a new place? I am not being romantic here, what I am trying to say is images flatten our real experience, and they win over us through our insecurity. 

But why am I writing all this? Because I actually wondered why I felt so vulnerable as a college kid and almost felt lost in a whole new world that opened up after my school...It was a time which forced me to rethink my value systems, upbringing, culture - everything - it was a very difficult period. An in this insecurity, I took time to be quiet and rejected most images. I could never rationalize for myself the reasons for homogenizing....And I still haven't been able to rationalize...

Untitled

When

I take my tongue out in the air

I can't taste it

I feel, 

Have I

lost my sense of taste

Or is the air tasteless?

When 

I plug onto my ear

the music from my earphones

I feel

Have I

merged my song with the tune

or is the city full of noise?

When 

I try to see new things around

trying to frame through various means

I feel

Have I

just turned blind

or is the space around me unchanging?

When

The sweat rolls by my forehead

to wet my temples

I feel

Have I 

worked enough for the day

or it's some hidden tension oozing out of my mind?

When 

I think of my senses

and sense my thought

I feel

Have I 

started to think too much 

or I think too much to start?

Boredom

If there is any thing that I could write here, it should be about my absolute boredom with the current state of my life. I think I am done with this city and there is nothing more Mumbai has to offer to me! Although I haven't seen the entire city, every new place I go could be categorised into some kind of generalized experience. I went to Dharavi yesterday and I didnot feel any thing different, just before that, I had been to Ghatkopar and I felt like I would feel in all typical neighbourhoods. A few days ago, I had gone to Brinda Somaya's office - yeah , that was something that made me feel as if I entered a different area, the huge walls screening of the docks and the sea. That was interesting. But over all, the fort and the suburb has nothing new to offer.

The events in the city are mundane. The fast paced life is machinic. Not that I didnot try to unwind myself: I enjoyed at Namrata (Shah's) engagement over the weekend - we danced, jumped, ate...But why would I feel bored? I wonder!

I have written off to Sen Kapadia and Vandana: Both have been extremely helpful and cooperative. I have no interest to undertake those projects now. I could have ended up in great papers on their practices. There is a sudden lack of motivation to work on it now. Project offers come and go. Design ideas don't occur to me. Studios are dull. Teaching is exhausting...

?

But I am not even working enough, producing enough...sometimes I feel I should take a sabbatic - just go to some asylum. I am wondering if I can carry it on for the next year...!?

Implosions

I have not been writing. I have no drive to write meanwhile. Perhaps I am just in a void.
There are times when I want to draw badly - and when i take a paper, the pencil refuses to draw.
There are times when I wish to paint - but as I arrange all my materials, the paints become colourless.
There are times when I feel like writing poetry - and as I write, sentences reduce to words and letters.

Why does this happen? And why is it happening now all of a sudden - when just some days ago, I was almost regularly reflecting on everything, everyday. Am I tired or bored of it? Do I need a change? Do I need to quit what I am doing? Do I need to find a new place for myself to be in? Do I enjoy teaching? Am I doing enough  or far too much than required? Or am I too ambitious and focused? Should I just let things easy? I keep floating in this pool of questions - wading one question by another! There was a point in time when I was negotiating questions by doing things. Now, I am just meandering through them! I feel it's dangerous, scary. For some time, I feel like a weed - existing for nothing worthwhile!

Although, I enjoy completing half done things initiated by others, - when students produce sparks of ideas, and are not able to take them through, I feel like pulling their pencil, sitting on their stool and finishing off the ideas. "But those are not my ideas", I say to myself. Why am I not producing ideas? Am I really not producing ideas or have I just fed myself with too much of theory? Do I need to sit and just ruminate over all what I have read by far? I have read a bit too much i feel- it has made me very quiet, perhaps? Am I quiet? I don't know...

I keep going to the library occasionally - only to remind myself that there are so many books I haven't read yet. Today I re-familiarized with the library, and found there were so many new books...Whenever I see a new book, the only thing I think is that someone is thinking far more than myself. I am badly stuck in the sea of information. The other day, Chaitanya spoke to students in class: "This is your time to gather information, after a few years, all will make sense." I am in a phase where all information makes perfect sense to me and I don't know what to do with it! I am tired of being patient. I am tired of waiting. Wait is painful. I have to move on, and I am losing all interest to take the next step...

Its terrible - there was a time when I was upset because of my unclarity. Now I am so clear that I don't find the means to bridge huge gaps that lie towards my goal...

Teachers's Day 2000

Ten years ago on this day, I was preparing for a lecture on "Biosphere" for class 9. The next day was going to be Teachers' day and students were going to pose as teachers and take a class. I was excited. Most of my classmates taught lower classes and were surprised of my choice to teach a class immediate to mine (I was in class 10 then - my matriculation year). Moreover, it was a subject handled by one of our strictest teachers in the school. However, I wasn't intimidated.

The next day was fun. We dressed up as teachers and went to classes to see how our peers performed and what responses they got from students. Later during the day, it was my class. Although many would pass of this day as waste, I conducted a serious lecture. I explained each part of the lesson using my own version of notes. Students asked questions later and I clarified each and every doubt. The jury went around classes and looked at how we conducted classes.

At the end of the day, results were announced. To my surprise, I was declared to be the Best Student Teacher. I was thrilled and excited. My friends were surprised of me handling class 9 being just one year senior.

The story wasn't over. I was only thinking that this was just a one sided affair. The jury felt that I conducted a good class. The next day, as I attended my regular lectures, the Geography teacher of class 9 (the strictest one, as I said before and our class teacher then), came to my class in person and shouted:

"Anuj, what have you done?"
I was scared! I asked, "Why, what did I do ma'am?"
"They are not letting me inside the class, they say they want you!" she was referring to the students of class 9.

This had  never happened in the history of our school before. Most student teachers pass off the day for fun, but I was quite passionate about it! She never taught the lesson to that class later - they only discussed questions on it. I felt truly appreciated and hence, the certificate below is very precious to me.

Perhaps there would be no better time than this to relive this part of my history. What importance do such certificates that we win during school times hold ? - probably they only gave us confidence then. But they have certainly helped / shaped our current trajectories...

Baghban IV

In the past few weeks, I have been questioning, rather understanding the construct of the institution of Indian family. How does the Indian family work. What are its codes? What are the roles of each person in the family? How is one made/supposed to behave? What if one does not follow the codes? How does it rupture one's way of living or operating then?

If family is our first school, then a lot of rules are set up within this institution. The Indian family is very hierarchical. The hierarchy dictates the code of conduct. Essential values like respect, truth (honesty), economy are controlled by this hierarchical setup. What one must speak and how one must talk to any one is also a political construct of this hierarchy. Unfortuantely, this hierarchy continues till you die, so there is not way to peek into your parents' lives by pointing at them any questions. Questions can easily be screened through the wall of hierarchy: "How dare you ask this question?"

However, a bigger problem is that all these values conceptually conflict and contradict each other. We are taught to be truthful and honest in our childhood. We are asked to talk politely to elders. We should respect others, and all that! In the real life, these actions are guided by factors completely unknown to us. There are times when our parents themselves refute their taught value systems. Money is a funny issue! All this while, my father maintained that life was larger than money, and these days he says that money is very important in life.

A major portion of the education from family or school is imparting certain idealist values in a person. These ideals were created and suited to a certain historic time and space. Do these values work in today's world? Does the conceptual framework of the formation of ideal ideas change? Are ideal thoughts sacred? Ideals create a lot of friction in the real world. The family never addresses this issue. Why does the ideal get so much importance in our lives when it never holds true? Why are we made to believe in this apparent truth, which ceases to exist? What consolation do we seek for in honesty? I don't understand. The family has to teach a small slice of corruption or to be flexible to corruption. We don't live in an ideal space and we have to be groomed for such a space right from the beginning.

Schools have to teach us to be tactical, opportunistic! Unfortunately, we only learn this when we grow 60 years old - that knowledge conveniently classifies as wisdom! By then we already lose on all luxuries of life - then they say, be happy of the fact that you never committed a crime! I say - well, those who committed are living far comfortably! Truth is over-rated, honesty too. Yes, we do need it, but in a world like this, family values itself have to change.

History:

Baghban
Baghban II
Baghban III

This post needs more clarification and elaboration. It shall be done in subsequent time.

Toys

Since a long time now, I have been wanting to write a post on the kind of toys I played with in my childhood. This thought was triggered primarily by two things: the reading of Roland Barthes'  "Toys" from Mythologies and my discussion on the same some time ago with a students during the Humanities lecture. Rather, I wanted to test if my toys have really shaped me!? I thereby started to write on cartoons too. But that article is not complete yet. I  have to refine it further such that I can make it into a formal paper.

I hardly remember what were my childhood toys like! Perhaps I must have thrown them, chewed them or swallowed some of it - I dont know! The faintest memory of my first toys is a jumping chicken which my mother brought for me after I got my teeth extracted! It was a white furry chicken which lasted for a long time and needed to be keyed. Yes, there were a lot of toys which worked on keys. My uncle used to travel to foreign countries very frequently. He had then got us (my brother and me) a car each. Mine was an old style fiat! I loved it. I would keep rolling it around my axis! During 1990 we had the opportunity to go to Singapore. My parents got a lot of toys for us from there. They were mostly electronic. Electronic toys could be trusted being imported! But it was an eclectic mix - a golden robot, 2 fighting tanks, a set of cars - all of it worked on batteries! I don't remember but there must have been a lot more! We must have misplaced them here and there.

As we grew, our choice of toys became peculiar. I was drawn to more human toys, more subtle; while my brother to the  more destructive and aggressive! I had a distinct liking for teddy bears! They were quite expensive then. So my first and the only teddy bear was stitched by my mother. My aunt gifted me another one on my birthday some time later. I kept them for a long time! I also remember buying a doctor's set - I would see myself as one! It had plastic scissors, cotton, bandage, a fake thermometer - all that! I still remember it cost Rs. 28/-. We got toys only on two occasions: on getting a good result or on a birthday. There were no un-occasional toys. 

Further I invested more in the GI joes - they were really marketed well and I wanted to almost make a collection. Over 4 years, I could collect only 4 of them, through which I would weave stories and plays. Immediately then, the teddy bear became the monster due to its size...Cars were all half broken so they could carry the gi joes...I had enough material to create a setting.

Later, I invested in toys like the safari (cars going through a track), i also had "The Young Architect" and "The Mechanix". I took a game on cricket too, which i seldom played! But these were the toys through which I really experimented a lot! I would not stick only to the manuals, but would go on to make more exciting moving things. 

There is another aspect to the whole story - games: all sorts from board games to the virtual ones (video games and computer games). I had distinct liking for games. I would play games like Business or Ludo with my friend and I guess it informs my notions of 'circulation' that I use in my architectural work today. Computer games like Prince of Persia and Digger presented the world of 'sections' to me. Later as we played newer games, they appeared in perspective. Spaces revealing themselves in perspective were scary...sectional spaces were so much subtler! Games like Tetris on the video games probably taught me articulation - of fitting things together compactly. I had immense liking for racing games. I don't know if they really induced in me the idea of competition. But I developed immense amount of patience and perseverance through these games.

All such games and toys made a definite space around me - a very human like, mechanical environment. Gijoes were a great way to understand anthropometrics and mechanix taught me structure. I think these toys contributed to a lot of my architectural knowledge. I still have all my toys, well preserved - to an extent that my parents are fed up of me. I don't share them with my nephews since they would immediately break them into pieces! Although some of them have been destroyed.

But I am going to try to theorize the above! It's just a descriptive account meanwhile. Somewhere, it does make me different from my brother's aggressive nature coming from his toys like the gun, or the bat, or the WOLF or DOOM he played on computer...Hence the Barthes connect...

Don't our toys shape us!? I have been wanting to pull the idea of toys in studio, especially since Prasad Shetty mentioned it last year to which I refuted. But I guess I am going to think about it seriously to be able to understand and derive newer expressions from the idea of toys and games...lets see...

Practice

Any kind of artistic practice involves so much of manipulation. There is so much to and fro in achieving an end. Take water colour for example. The artist uses washes over and over again , sucks or drops more colour and keeps on repeating the process until the desired result is achieved.

The process of repetition is the key to a rich product. Repetition allows overlay and thus gives a lot of depth to work. Depth gives multiple readings of a single work and it creates different moods during different times. Oil painters keep on mixing colours till they achieve the desired result. This process is perhaps meditative.

Architects use tracings, through which they repeat processes. Through repetition and mixing, one may layer ideas. It also involves iteration of mistakes, then correcting them. One keeps going back and forth, revising the earlier thought at each step. Thus these processes are not linear, neither cyclic. They are like eddies, which keep micromanaging themselves. Such processes give rise to techniques, which can be used in varying scales of work. 

I work on my writing like above. I first write in the crudest possible way. Probably because I think in mixed languages. Then I try giving it coherence, by first putting it grammatically correctly, then polishing sentences, words and phrases. But I purposely delay all these steps since every time I read my text afresh, I am able to refine it further. At one go, all seems fine, but in another instance, it appears terribly wrong. Many a times, I find no relevance of a plenty of texts that I once began writing. Then I realize how convoluted my mind is. I discard a lot of such texts. I also preserve a lot of such texts, only to laugh at my silliness. But when I look back, I can estimate how far have I come. And this is the reason why archives are important. They allow to trace trajectories.

Where do I go?

Suddenly I feel all has become so peaceful. I have reduced interacting too much with others. I don't look at too many things here and there. And it is really making me feel comfortable. I have started to think lesser and things bother me even lesser. The past few days were really bothering me too much. But I think the credit goes to Prakriti: She told me about the ancient Vedic strategy - "Let the thoughts come and go, don't hold them". And I am practicing it all the time. It seems to be working. Although I haven't mastered it yet.

Things happen around me, and I have learnt to let them happen even if I am feel they not ought to be so. Anuj tells me: "You can't change the world". I quietly agree to him.

Lots of things actually come and go, but these days, I am not finding the urge to note them down. Neha went for her masters and I really felt at loss - on one hand for missing a friend and on the other, something that ignites my own aspirations.

Writing is going on, but I am not so confident of it. Projects seem to build, but fall more instantly. The moment I open them out for discussion, the next moment, they collapse. No, I am not going to get into "why does this happen" mode. It just happens. Perhaps it is meant to just be like that. There are times when nothing seem to be heading anywhere. This is a similar feeling to that during my thesis. But things take their time. I am not sure what to wait for and how much to wait for. 

Sometimes I question even if teaching is meant for me? I don't know! Where will this inquiry lead? What is this inquiry for? Is it isolating me? Am I becoming too obscure? Why do I need to question? Where will all this culminate? Large questions. No answers.

But I keep doing; When I am doing, I am not thinking too many things. Its peaceful when I am not thinking. So I do. I write. I keep writing. So i feel less bothered by things around me. I record - all the time. I take pictures, everywhere. I look, re look at them, thinking of stories, which get lost in my mind...Eventually, i think they will be lost. Now have I contradicted myself again here?

Of Unknown Imagic Realities III

Over the past 20 years, I had never entered my own building from its front entrance. I always took the back entrance which was a small alley directly leading to the backyard and then the road. Since I stayed on the 2nd floor, I never even bothered to take a lift to my house. Today while returning back to my building, I had some extra time at hand. For the first time in the last 20 years, I thought of confronting the building I lived in. I took a big turn around the building to enter it from the front. As I faced the front, I saw it was a huge building - almost like a mega structure. The entrance seemed like a large double height opening. It seemed as if this building housed 1000s of people. There were so many doors and lanes inside the building. I had to inquire at the reception about the lift (I thought I must use it once in my life, although i stay on the second  floor). They directed me to a large door.

I waited for the lift for a short while. The huge door opened and I saw a large - extremely large auditorium like chamber. It could almost house 300 people at a time. It waited for people to fill. I promptly walked in side this poly carbonate amphitheatre (imagine an essel world ride). I wondered if I had ever seen a lift like that - and how I was kept away from this although I stayed in the same building? Why didnt my parents ever bother to tell me that we live in such a megalomaniacal building? What was happening?

I took a seat. It felt like a time machine. There were many people around me - all unfamiliar. Although I wasn't scared, since I was confident about my place, it seemed weird. The lift finally closed and moved up like a roller coaster ride. Topsy turvy. All our bags were scrambled. After the lift stopped at my floor, (it seemed like a joy ride), I could not find my bag. Someone helped me finding it under a girl's skirt. I promptly took it and walked out.

I walked out of the lift to find lanes that lead to various kinds of places. Some of them overlooked to a large warehouse where it seemed like a factory. I again wondered how the factory was so well hidden from my house? Why didnt I ever notice these huge hollow spaces? How could I be so ignorant? I moved around and found singly loaded corridors. They had lines of doors which probably housed people. The corridor seemed never ending. I did not have any clue of how I must proceed to my house.

My father called out and then I woke up.

Of Unknown Imagic Realities II

The elephant was inside a house that had a glass facade. It almost occupied the entire volume of the simplistic house. Its head was tied using cables to its mezzanine. The elephant struggled to get out of the glassed cage. There was an equally big elephant outside on the other side of the glass. Was it a mirror image? Both the elephants struggled to hug each other. I wondered how they stood up on their hind legs. I had always heard that elephants cant jump - and here they were almost trying to hug each other.

At a distance, I was trying to light up a few matchsticks to make some light, since it was beginning to grow darker. While holding the lit up matches in one hand, I tried to remove my Samsung star from the other to capture the 'elephant struggle' in my camera phone. A little away, behind me, the keeper of the place came out of his administrative block to interrogate me. By then, I wasn't able to take position of my matchstick  with the camera. Seeing the keeper approach, I dropped down the burning sticks. He saw me dropping them and I began to apologize.

By the time he came to me, I again turned to the elephants. The trapped elephant was growing fierce and finally broke the glass facade. I was scared. He was still tied.

In the mean time, I saw another man coming closer to me. He was a policeman - although he seemed an American! He had seen me drop the match sticks too. I thought he would take me to jail, assuming I was a terrorist - I was playing with fire.

The alarm rang and then I got up.

Of now

Today I learnt a very important thing in a very soft way - that what one is talking about or writing about has to be relevant to now and ahead. Probably history had fascinated me so much that I just fell into reproducing much of it!! There is so much in history - people have churned out so many ideas that there the future seems to be so competitive! I think in this phase of my life, I will have to spend all my time in only knowing what all has been really done already. The next phase of my life should begin by the age of 35. If life discovers that I am extraordinary, then perhaps this phase may be smaller. But I think life is not so generous!

Anuj keeps on telling me a lot of stuff which I keep on forgetting. Some day, I will introduce Anuj to you all. I don't yet know how to present him to you. He keeps on questioning all irrational ideas that come to my mind. Sometimes I feel irritated with him. But he is one composed fellow who never seems to have any problem. I am very jealous of him. Very.

Meanwhile, I am stuck with my paper, especially since that first comment that someone made. It has become so descriptive that it seem stale now. It also turned out to be a writing exercise! I will have to revise it in the next few hours so that I am able to present tomorrow!!

Being cynical

Some people had told me important things which either I have not succeeded to implement yet, or probably I have developed habits which will take time to wash off. One of these was to accept people as they are. To accept human nature. To accept that the way people are behaving is natural. That the difference we see in people and activities around us is a matter of our own conditioning. Does everyone believe equally strongly in they own conditioning? I think I do. And I may be completely unreasonable.

In the course of life, conditioning stops at a certain stage. Till a certain age, one and one's actions are conditioned by the institutions that one engages in. We completely submit in these institutions and construct our values through their learning. Once you are outside the aura of the institutions, you meet a new world. This world is completely different from that of rules, codes and values. Those conditionings that the institutions taught you make you uncomfortable now, since now, you are not operating in a group (either the family as a groups, or the school as a group or the neighbourhood as a group - all are governed by certain rules - said or unsaid). I think it is here where the process of judgment starts. 

Which of these institutions is strongest I dont know. But our constructs take on values filtering through the strength of these institutions. To make it simpler, an example would be that if your school teaches you not to lie and the family teaches you that lying for someone else's good is okay, then the way you act in a situation where you have to make a lying-based decision will be filtered through the ideal school principle, then the family - since it encompasses the lie. So you will end up accepting to lie.

I think the above is slightly complex and I can not even begin to explain it. But I am just trying to understand if there is any ONE single way of behaviour which satisfies all groups. Can there really be an ideal human being?

Ah Plato!

At this stage in life, i am beginning to be extremely cynical. I am whining far too much. I think it is the difference of conditioning that I was talking about. Things are not as we were taught by the institutions. And the institutions didnot tell us how to handle this situation. How do you handle oneself being cynical? Being too critical - is it what I just enjoy for the heck of it? I have to find why am I being critical? Is it even helping? What is it doing? It's irritating me. 

Corruption in India?

I stepped down the staircase of the railway station only to be stopped by the ticket examiner. I confidently took out my wallet, pulled out my pass. He indicated, it's the old one. I started re-searching my wallet for the new one (I have this old habit of keeping old passes for some time, but this time I was quite sure I didn't keep them to confuse myself at a later date). And after finding no trace of a new pass, I reverted to the TTE to ask for the date.

It was 22-6-2011. The present was already 25-6-11.

I realized that I had mis-read the date 22 as 29; only due to a printing error (see picture).

Without arguing with the TTE, I offered him to pay the fine. I didnot want to make a scene out of myself  and neither did I want the TTE to boss over me. He took me along and I wondered why. The fact was that he didnot want to give me a receipt.

On the way to the TTE room, he asked me, where are you coming from? I answered, Goregaon. Will you go back? I answered - what have you got to do with it anyway? He thought I would argue with him to reduce the fine, which ultimately would go in his pocket. I remained terse. I refused to answer to his questions because I didnot want to waste time and I was already willing to pay the fine.

"Will you do this mistake again?" he asked. I told him, "Look: I have been travelling by the train since the last 10 years of my life and this is one of those occasions where I forgot to check the date of renewal of my ticket!" He remained quiet. They hushed each other - "Let's help him...(demanding from me) give us 160 rupees." I said, fine, give me a receipt. They said, ok, how much money do you have? 

I said, "I am ready to pay the fine, give me the receipt..."

Finally feeling guilt, he pulled out the receipt booklet and tore a bill of 260 Rs. for me.

I paid Rs. 500/- and collected the receipt to move. Only as I moved out, I realized that I hadn't collected the change back. I went back and demanded the remaining money. He pulled out plenty of Rs. 500/- ; Rs. 100/- notes and gave me my change back.

I wondered how much they would be earning per day. Apart from exercising my morals here, I think it showed the state of affairs of the country. On one hand we have the likes of Anna Hazare going on fasts for eradicating corruption and on the other are these shameless bunch of idiots absolutely non-interrupted or aroused by the movement. 

I just felt later, "How else do you support Anna Hazare?"

Of those hundreds of young people who go and shout or join hands and make rallies, would they stop bribing the traffic police on their faults, or for ticket-less traveling or  to save an inch of their pocket money? Would they stop succumbing to such situations where the system offers you to let go? And we as a civil society suck up to corruption all the time...Youngsters have no option but to save up! It's the guilt at home that they want to avoid. Moreso, it's our parental pressure that we want to avoid! Break a rule and you will be disallowed from an activity. Pass a red signal and you will be disallowed to use the bike....

Fear.
This is how we avoid or cover it up! 

I wonder, how it didnot pinch me to pay Rs. 260/-. Probably I was capable of paying the fine, I wasn't answerable to my parents (because I am financially independent now), and above all, there is a general mood of anti-corruption drive and I thought I had done nothing for it.

At the end, 3 lessons to learn:

1. Read the ticket date properly.

2. You can choose the way others would/should behave.

3. You can support civil-drives by engaging actively in them rather than going for stand up performances (candle lights, processions, rallies, etc.). It begins in the gut. [And here, am I just counter-arguing the "mood of the drive" point that I made earlier? I guess no. ]

The mood is not an outward influence for me. One has to practise it from inside to be able to realize it. Then one has to live by it, however costly it may be. I think that's how you 'pay the price' for your ideals and morals...

I am happy to have made the TTE feel guilty! Although just for 5 seconds! If I could have read his mind, I would have loved to know if he could sleep that day...

(the questions are: we will change...but will they? would this money be still used for better purposes, in this case, the upkeep of the bloody printer which mis printed / ill-printed the date, which could have saved my money and avoided confusion? what happens to the system which is itself plagued, people are ready to change, but the system itself wants the people to be corrupt....where in this society are we talking about development? where no one is content, everyone is hungry for money, even that which is completely not theirs...maybe I am getting to moralistic here. But the point remains, we are in a system and we decide how it works.)


(now is it a good example of dagagiri?)

Moving Figures

Unpublished Archives

Looking back in my archives, I have found that I have a plenty of un developed writing ideas that I thought of in my past. Those ideas are outlines (literally) and I have had no time to write elaborately on them. There are ideas to write on the city, people, self, architecture, things around - all of them are just lying as ideas. I dont know what will happen of those outlines. there are intensive documentations of certain events that I experienced, phases of time, reflections on the self...

But meanwhile, i have started collecting some significant stuff on areas of my interest...and so I am slowly turning into more focused thought and writing. Due to this, I observe that the nature of my writing has changed to a documentative mode rather than the earlier self-exploration mode.

I wonder whether people stop blogging when they get absolutely serious with writing? I think I will too, at some point of time. I can feel that strain - especially when there is already so much that has already been explored in writing, what new do you produce? Rather, you question if whatever you produce is even significant? But on the other hand, you write for your readers, the assumed ones, whom you think are interested in you - isn't it? And one can so conveniently overrule their desire to peep into you! And when you know that you can make some people happy by sharing a slice of yourself with them, you feel that you are so powerful...

Nevertheless, I think this writing can remain till I keep struggling with my thoughts, myself...But one day, I will also be able to decide or put all the undeveloped writings that I have on my PC! Till then, I keep working on ideas.

Television v/s Internet

These days I dont engage in television at all. I mean i dont know what to watch on it!! Funny.
But some time ago, my friend Ankit shared an interesting observation. The television is something that keeps on showing you images even when you dont ask for it. You switch it on and you have a plethora of choices for consuming any kind of image you want. This can actually be a two way thing. People can see TV, rather even stare at it for no reason and it will still keep on changing its content. Thus, probably it will keep you engaged, even if it's the most mundane way.

Ankit stays away from his home in this city. So he has no television to kill  his time at home. He feels bored sometimes. I told him: "Dude, you have the net, why do you worry? You can watch anything over there and now-a-days all TV stuff is available on you-tube"

Now this is the interesting part of the answer. He said: "Yes, but you have to search the internet for what you want. It doesnt give you things just without asking." Probably thats why we call TV the Idiot box - it's actually a transferred epithet. It makes you an idiot, without you knowing what you want to watch sometimes.

These days, I spend a lot of time with the internet digging out things, reading, collecting, putting different things together, talking to people, their ideas...and all that. And TV seems really futile to me. What this suggests is that not only I have become too focused with what I want to do, but it also suggests a shift in culture of spending time with an object. In this focus, I overlook a lot of things, which are a constant botheration to my father. My father is perpetually interested in knowing the current. And I keep telling him, the current is too distracting for me because I am interested in history! That may be very naiive answer right now. But I just avoid getting into a debate with him, particularly when I know I am going to lose over his wisdom that I does not approve of!

The fact that you have to know something to be able to use the internet as opposed to just staring at the TV which gives information for free (in a conceptual sense - ofcourse you pay your tv bill), was interesting.
In another conceptual sense, the television can be seen as a producer of a vast archive of societal constructs of images. It can become good amount of growing data for research in various subjects.

However, things will soon change when TV becomes digital. Then, everything will be available on the net and you can consider internet as another idiot box. And we shall then have infinite images strolling all around us with us not being able to decide where to invest our time...That will be absolute madness. That's not far really, we are almost on the verge of this technology taking over!

Why does my skepticism propound I don't know. What makes me insecure with this, I don't know...

My old house

A cross section of my old house, where each space came to life because of a variety of activity patterns.

Above is a section of my old building (the grey-ed rectangle being my house). The building was somewhere between a chawl and apartment-type of structures we have today. The way to the building was difficult to spot. I always thought that all spaces in the building are used to live. However, as I grew old, I realized that my building was a mixed use building with a toy-shop, a flour mill and a sugarcane juice shop on the ground floor, spaces which faced the road. As I began to navigate places on my own on growing old, I started reading addresses on sign boards of shops, and found the name of my building on these shops. It may sound really silly, but I always felt before studying architecture that buildings are houses, to live, to stay. Shops are different from houses, and that they can not be a part of living/housing.


Gradually, as I started to understand, and thanks to my architectural education, a whole new building revealed to me. Every person in this building used the space of the home to work! Right from my father to the last person on the ground - all were working. Work was a part of living. All kinds of things were manufactured in the tenements - food items, clay works, art works, drawings (architect / arthouse / advertising), gold-works, electrical works, tube-lights - everything. It was a part of my living. Architecture separated (classified) this absolute space of mine.


However,


Architecturally, the building allowed transparency of activities between the vertical floors. Each floor's terrace overlooked below, and a (loud) call would be enough to communicate with anyone in the building. There were thus, live patterns in the building, which made the whole building active all the time. The activities were porous, the spaces more fluid, as they opened on to private barsatis, which still could be shared. During rains, all people would get out playing in the water, and housekeepers would pull out buckets and place them under corrugated sheet coverings to collect water which was cool and fresh. During the summers, people staying below would come up on the wider terrace for drying papads, chaklis and home made masalas. All children would collect together on any of the terraces and start a play during their vacation. The neighbours would also use the staircase during the afternoon because it was cool and calm to study. The little corners of these terraces would be used for plantations. All houses opened on to an open space, which was private and public at the same time. It was easy to peep into others' house, and people did not really feel offended.

Staircases were study rooms, terraces were play grounds, and sometimes gardens too, rooms were interconnected....fights were public, homes were public, backyards were dustbins, smells were democratic, rains were for all, windows were personal, cats lived in houses, stray dogs guarded the building...

more stories to tell!

Writing

Is being emotional important for any one to be able to write well? Emotions help you place your opinions so convincingly. Does it make one strong, or does it make one weak? Do thoughts die if they are not expressed? How many thoughts do we lose every day?

When one is highly emotional, the very act of writing becomes a dialogue, which in reality, is a monologue. Every piece of writing is probably a conversation with oneself. Asking questions again and again to oneself - "is this what i want to say?". But still, they say, that a writer writes for an assumed audience. An audience which shall probably never be available to the writer. Since this  conversation with his / her audience is always so mute. And it manifests into new forms. 

And all i ask again is:
"Is this what I want to say?"