Black Horse

kaaaaaaaalaaaaaaaaaa ghodaaaaaaaaaaaa '08!

wonder why it had to be so upmarket!? but anyway...my first kala ghoda...i loved every part of it! and with the cold, it was awsome...

the food was expensive, bot good...and to fill our stomach to the fullest, we went out to the local bhelpuri walla to have some sev puri and cheese sandwich!

i had a big glass of sugarcane juice too....

and landed up with cold the next day...ah! i dont mind it at all...

Monday Morning

It was difficult to get out from my warm cozy blanket today…however, after prolonging my sleep for an extra half hour, I finally decided to get ready for a cold winter morning. However, while I took a bus to reach the station, it was still dark. Was a bit lucky to get a fairly empty train…I stood at the gate to enjoy the cold breeze.

I put on my walkman and disconnected from the rhythmic sound of the train.

It was a beautiful morning…the sun had not risen and I could see the orangish tinge in the sky, lighting up the grey clouds. The silhouette of the city against the sky was breath taking. Somewhere in santacruz, a lady with a large vessel on her head pointed me to help her keep down the vessel in the train. Initially, I did not understand as I was engaged in my music, so I thought she wanted some space – I stepped aside. Later, she pointed out again with the finger…I then quickly helped her with the vessel…the vessel was very very heavy…the old woman’s effort was commendable. The train started with a jerk again. I was happy to see the lady pushing the vessel to place in the compartment, along with her partener, who was pretty young with some stuff on her head.

I continued with my music and the large view the gate offered me. It was now that the crescent of the moon appeared through the clouds. The clouds had a lovely orange lining by now. It reminded me of the morning when I similarly saw the candy orange sun through the door of the train, in full shape.

I got down at Dadar and got lost into the numerous men heading towards their work places. At Kabutar Khana, I saw the fluttering pigeons, but the buildings that framed the sky were still black and the sky was now completely orange, and overpowered the birds. Gushes of cool wind kept me cold, and I kept walking to the rhythm of my music…

The college was still dark, the library was shut, and the office too. I took a seat to warm myself, went on to read the notice board across me, and then was engaged with some talk with a senior. Madhavi came in by then and we went to the library, which was open by now, to have a short update over the past week. I met adarkar sir, and tried to explain him my dissertation. We discussed towards some positive anticipations…

Madhavi and I left for office then. She kept talking to me in the cab, but I could not pay attention. I was lost in mesmerizing the beautiful Monday morning…

uhhh...work but no work!

this week has been the most liberal week at the office....all the work is going slow than usual, and on top of that, the boss is not thre, so there is a lot of fun at the workplace.suddenly there is a work recession in the office, and everything seems to be lost.it seems pointless to come to the office and draft a section or two in the entire day.cant even concentrate on academics...we made maggi in the office today...and did some time pass...otherwise, no eventful days....waiting for some...

winter the leaves fall

making the trees bare all

filters through them the soft sunlight

the day cold and the sunshine bright

Do I look funny?

Over

“Over”

That was the only thing my father could say on the phone. His throat was choked. I understood, that my uncle was no more.

We waited till the next morning to cremate the body, for his son (on his way back from America to India) to see him for the last time.

We reached the crematorium at about 7 in the morning. The wood was damp, because of the dew in the morning. The service men were preparing for the cremation. The body was finally kept on the pyre. All clothes were removed, and the dead body was applied a lot of ghee. The body was covered with the same logs of wood.

On the other side, someone prepared a torch. It was finally lit. About 100 people there, all sad. Some friends, some well wishers and some relatives. A burst of weep for the last time. The body was put on fire. Within two hours, the body vanished.

It did not need any architecture for the crematorium to be one. Everyone existed in their own mental space. No enclosure, no protection, but only occupied by a sense of loss. Something disappeared right in front of our eyes, which was there till a few hours back. It was neither held by the walls, nor the roof. No material thing, no observable beauty, but the non existential fire, which made up a screen for the thoughts, the memories.

A body we tried to save and we burnt it ourselves.

It was indeed over.

The Sunday Reads

After a long time, read 3 very interesting articles in various news papers today…one was a memoir and other two talking about various issues – theoretically and at the factually.

The first one was on the news readers on Doordarshan long time ago, about their lives and how they themselves had a fan following, power, and conviviality. The most interesting part of the article is the picture of the news readers, which made me do “aaaaahhhh I remember!” in my mind, and made me remember those days, when there was no cable connection at home and my father would return back right on time for the news…

The other two were more serious. The first one talked about how, radical capitalist reforms are brought about in a treacherously planned manner after some natural/man made disaster. We generally never tend to think how stealthily, the government shifts the land under our own legs…this article was just a brief explaining the work of Canadian journalist, Naomi Klein…who studies the connection between the disaster and the reform.

The last article, on the farmers who wrote a suicide letter to the president of India made my blood boil out of fury. The three farmers in a small village of Maharashtra are completely broke and left with no other option to put an end to their life. The article can be appreciated in many ways. Firstly, it is a very well written piece, exposing the right things at the right time while reading, and also maintaining the urgency of the issue, still said in the form of a simple story. At the same time it exposes a number of issues our villages are dealing with, silently – the ill-connectivity, the simple lifestyle, the uneducated ness (through the misconception of what a cheque is), etc. it definitely paints a picture of the village in mind. Secondly, it brings up the inefficiency of our ministers and the lack of administration. The false promises, spending time at wrong places, laid back attitude…Thirdly, it discusses the personal issues of the farmers – their living conditions, social issues and their exploitation. Lastly, the article brings out the reach of media. If media is used rightfully to bring about important issues like this one instead of where Yuvraj Singh is spending his time/shah rukh’s hairstyle, I think it will make a better change.

After many Sundays, felt like sitting and reading the newspaper at length.

The articles mentioned above were:

The Doordarshan Divas, The Times of India, January 6, 2008, Page 17
Everybody loves a good Tsunami, The Times of India, January 6, 2008, Page 18
Death Wish, Mumbai Mirror, January 6, 2008, Page 6

its not blue...its not orange....its pink...
plethora of pink

angrezi gyaan bhandaar

Only a few new words I learnt during the making of my dissertation. This is how I understand them. For further explanation, please refer wikipedia.

Etymology: study of origin of a word

Semantics: development of the meaning of a word contextually over time

Kitsch: a cheap reproduction of the original

Epistemology: study of development of language

Hermeneutics: study of development of a theory and interpretation and understanding of texts.

Gestalt: a theory which does not depend on orthodox rationalism or empiricism for its explanation

Lage Raho Munna Bhai

The other day we went to see the much awaited Lage raho Munna Bhai….
I had heard far too much about the film….everyone said that it was better than the previous one, giving Gandhi’s message of peace and also that it had gone for the Oscar nomination! Well, so the film was finally tax free and we did not miss such an opportunity!

Now a days these multiplexes are no bigger than exaggerated living rooms…well that was the first impression when I occupied the seat in the theatre! But soon, the film started and the hall was blacked out removing any idea of the volume of space from my brain!

And there it was…the message of Gandhi… “If someone slaps you on your right cheek, give the left one too!” the person sitting behind me perhaps, failed to get the message. He was a constant irritation to me! His legs were just not quiet, constantly fiddling with my seat, kicking, beating…and what not! So here I was, deciding whether to be or not, a victim of Gandhigiri…

I gave him a sharp look once, twice….no avail…

I thought this was the best time to put Gandhigiri to test. I stayed quiet! Soon, it was intermission, when I tried to look what the person looked like! But he was too fast to get up and run out for his snacks….

When the film restarted, he was back, back with alcohol…spoiling the entire room of fresh air! I felt like laughing! Laughing on Gandhi and his Gandhigiri and then the film lost any significance for me… what could I have told him? What would Gandhi have done? Gave him another glass of alcohol?
Well the mood was already disturbed, and his constant kicking did not stop! Poor man….I pitied him…and Gandhi…and Vinod Chopra….

Will this country change? People might think another Gandhi is inevitable today, but how much do they care even after realizing this fact? So we can make 10 more films giving out messages of peace, truth and all that, but the world has changed….perhaps, it need a ‘refined’ Gandhi, I don’t think, the older one will help!