My Ramblings

Oh so confused!!

2011-05-10T10:46:00.000-07:00

I am going through a very confusing time and I noticed that writing down my feelings sometime make me feel better. So this is going to be a very personal post and quite irrelevant to anybody other than my closest friends.

Well, some six years back I left my country and came here for graduate studies. I was very happy to join an Ivy league university and I was confused to leave my country and my boyfriend. But I did make the move because I did not want to compromise and my priorities were different and at the back of my mind I had the belief that this was temporary and I could go back anytime. The move was not smooth. I was unhappy in a strange land with no friends. But, I made amazing friends who stood by me through thick and thin for the only reason that they are amazing human beings. I adjusted slowly, very slowly. I finished my PhD, moved to do a postdoc for the only reason that I could stay with my husband. At that time, I was quite upset with the academic profession and was tired of it, but I decided to give it a last try. And it is then that I saw that I was not incompetent, that the profession could be better than what I thought. And I do know that I love research.

Now I am standing in the juncture where I have to decide whether to stay here or go back to my country. What to expect from my life and I wish I had two lives. It is a much more difficult decision than coming here because this decision is going to be permanent, or almost. There will be no getting out of it, whichever way I decide. So what has changed in this. Well for one thing, I am older and my priorities have changed. I am not as single-mindedly career oriented as I used to be. I have a family and I would like to be able to continue having one. I have also gotten used to the ways of the academics here and do not have too much idea about back home. I am reasonably confident of the support I will receive over here and am not sure about back home.

So why am I thinking of back home? Because it is home. No other place will ever be that. And the weird thing is I am not too attached to home. It is just the country. I cannot quite imagine staying back in a different country. How can I not try to go back to the country where I went to college at the ridiculously subsidized tuition of $2 per year!!! Some tax payer money taught me throughout my higher education. How can I forget that? How?

Also I do realize the very small number of female academicians in my country and I want to change it, if only by trying to be successful there. But, what if I cannot make it there and just go on to re-inforce the existing stereotype. And what reason do I have that I will even get a job there? I do not even remember the way academics work there! What if this reasoning is just an empty dream and I am just not that capable?

What makes this decision more confusing is that if I decide to go back (and that is what I have been favoring till now), I will have to find a job in a place close to my husband and what if my career completely takes a back seat, since that is what EVERYBODY will be forcing me to do. I have been a renegade and a rebel, but how much longer can I rebel, especially when I see that it makes everybody around me so very unhappy. I guess, my staying or going back is becoming more than just a career move or a place to stay. It carries with it the weight of my principles and the happiness of my loved ones and that is where it is terrifying. And the worst part is it is not clear which route will actually be favoring my principles. As high sounding and ridiculous it might sound, I want to make a difference and I want to make it a bit easier for the next generation women in my country, I do not want them to hear things like "Why will a woman have to travel for career?", "Why will a woman be 'wasting' a seat at a premier institute?", "educated/careerist women cannot have a family" and so on. And if I look closer into which of these questions I refute by making either decision. Well, for one thing if I am successful anywhere, I have stopped the question of 'wasting' a seat. But, there is that "if"! I am not aware of the academic scenerio back home. What if I am totally brushed aside as my husbands "better half". He is quite capable and a good researcher, but I do not want my career to be tied to his name because in that case whatever I achieve will be thought of as due to him! I believe that my career, however good bad or ugly, can stand up on its own. Will I be able to establish that if I go back? On the other hand, if I don't go back, I am just another hypocrite. I am not making any change, however tiny. Of course, the other myth of educated women making lousy wives is even harder to break. I have tried and tried and tried and I think I need super human strength and 48 hours a day to make it happen. And I do go away for conferences. I have a life outside home and I know that if and when I decide to have a family (in a more strict sense), I will have to compromise and whatever compromise I make, I will feel guilty towards my family and my work. There is this notion ingrained in my mind (however liberal I might try to proclaim myself) that the household duties are mine and it is difficult to act otherwise. It is also impossible to do all the household work and then be competent at work. Which till now I am managing but at the cost of being completely tired, spent and burnt out on a regular basis. Well, I am kind of straying from the main issue which is I am not sure which route will be true to my principles. And if at all my principles make sense in this world. Sometimes I feel so bitter and lost. I believe I have been one of the luckiest in everything and still at times I feel completely defeated by the struggle between my principles and my ingrained notions.

After all this there is the issue of my real love for work, for science. This I still believe can be fulfilled in both places although everybody around me are convinced it is not so. Well, they have a point. If one has better exposure, funding and peer-pressure, it does make one work better. But, I believe that I can make up for the lack of it, by my own passion for science and will to succeed. Succeed, not in the traditional sense of having prestige, money and awards (although I have to agree they make one feel much better and positive), but in my sense of achieving and discovering new things. The reason why I started this painstaking and bitter journey in the first place.

Notice, I am not mentioning money, standard of life and recognition. They are the things I can live without and is not even playing a part in this confusion. The battle between the idealist and the realist is raging on and sometimes they are confused which side they are on! Am I a mess, or what? :)

Power of social networking

2011-04-08T11:22:00.000-07:00

While Anna Hazare the 72 year campaigner continues with his fast against corruption in Indian government, we kept seeing facebook posts supporting him. We had the option of "like"ing and "comment"ing on such posts. And then came a few facebook posts pointing out the irony of the situation! Yes, it is a bit ironic that while this dedicated campaigner did something real, we only had the option to go viral in the internet and do something as insignificant as "like" other such posts.

But, surpassing this irony I really felt the power of social network and thought about it for the first time. Here I should mention that I am not terribly active in the network. I do check my facebook page once or twice a day but do not post trivial comments about the insignificant and irrelevant details about what I am doing at every single moment of my life. And I have been rather skeptical of the real consequence and benefits of interactions over the internet.
These posts about "Anti-corruption fast" as well as the previous posts on "Dandi march" and "Dr. Binayak Sen release" changed my views quite completely.

These "ironic" and "insignificant" posts are not all that insignificant after all. How else would I, not living in India at the moment and not very politically aware, have known about "Anna Hazare" or "Jan Lokpal bill"? I would have read about the corruption scandals and just been saddened by it for the next 10 seconds and maybe discussed it over coffee with some other folks and that would be the end of it. How else would so many people have known about the Dandi march that happened here in California and joined it?

I am completely awestruck by the power of social network. While it has the rather unnecessary effect that I will get to know about the boring facts of somebody else's day to day life, it does have the power to motivate a lot of people from all over the world for a just cause. It does make us aware of the many very important news and also people's reaction to it. Many of these movements would have gone un-noticed not just by non-resident folks but been drowned in the n-th page of a newspaper or 2 lines of a newscast for those back home. Without social networking, we would have known about the scandals and we would feel helpless and not even try to change a thing. However, now thanks to social networking we do feel empowered. We do see how "we" can make a difference. Maybe by as small a response as clicking "like" or posting a news. But, this action however trivial does move the news forward and build support. People might find this action ironic and hypocritical but at the end of the day if one more person comes to know about a movement for a just cause, we have increased the support by one person and the chain reaction goes on. And little as it may seem this increases the pressure on the people and the government to do the right thing. Most importantly it makes a common citizen feel empowered and makes us feel that democracy is not just a hypothesis. We as citizens matter. And we as citizens can make a difference. It gives us the optimism that I saw was lacking even a few years back!

I don't have too much more to express. Except that I am liking this change. And it is filling me up with optimism and the despair to not be able to make a difference might soon be a thing of past. Social networking is truly making us global citizens. No matter where our home is, no matter where we live, we can support just causes and do our little bit to change the world.

Bangalore ... what the place means to me

2010-06-17T12:25:00.000-07:00

I have always been more attached to places than people. Not a nice trait many would say. But then that is how I am. So, here is what I have thought of one of the best places I lived in.

Bangalore... It all started when I got admitted into IISc for the Integrated PhD program. I had truly wanted to stay in India and be a scientist. I did not quite know what scientist meant but I was awed and inspired by it and as most people would agree IISc was the place to be. It would have been an understatement if I said that I was deliriously happy and proud to be part of such a great institute. So, I packed all my belongings in 2 rather small bags and left my home to come to Bangalore. My parents came with me to help me settle in. And then they left. I was all alone. I had always thought that I was not very attached to my family but this was the first time I really missed everybody. I was lonely and scared. Helpless. Come to think of it I was not all that young. I was 20.

Luckily I had friends from college who also came to join the same program. But somehow I was not too out-going, not too friendly in college and I could not expect them to suddenly come and stand by my sides. That night I took a very long bicycle ride in the campus. In the most remote parts of the campus, from where I could not see the gates that lead to the outside, to the train station and then back to my home (some 2000 kms away). I was completely exhausted when I came back.

This was my first day in IISc. The next few days weren't that much better. One of my good friends left IISc and went back to Calcutta. I hated the dim yellow lights that lit up the streets. The campus induced claustrophobia in me.

But something happened. So gradually that I did not notice. But, I surely knew that somethings have changed on my birthday. About 2 months had passed. I was getting used to the campus and all the people in it. But, the thought of spending my birthday away from home made me quite upset. Strangely so. Because my birthday was not celebrated with any pomp and glory at home. But anyway, I was sad and decided to not come back to my hostel room till very late in the night, till I was too tired to be sad that is. I walked in to my room and put the lights on only to see my room completely decked up with streamers and balloons. I heard the complete Int Phd girl's gang singing "Happy Birthday" with a cake and all. The complete shabang. I tell you that was the best birthday I ever had and if you ask me that was the day that I started feeling at home in Bangalore.

I lived in Bangalore for 3 years. Only 3 years. But, those were 3 golden years. I cannot pin-point any one reason why it is so precious to me. I joined the Natok (bengali drama) group and that definitely became like a family to me. Although going on stage was so much fun, it was the group aDDas that mattered the most. The Int Phd girl's gang (only 7 of us), all of us so different from each other became the best of friends. I don't know how that happened. We had fun, we chatted till 4 am and was named the notorious noise makers in the hostel, we celebrated birthdays and V-days and just days, we cried on each others shoulders and occasionally bitched about each other. And amidst all this confusion, we started trusting each other. Then there was a famous trio of friends that I was a part of. I cannot count the number of hours we have spent in TMSC or mess or Gymcafe yakking about everything and nothing. This trio grew into the Hoihoi Sangha with its weekend trips and mess aDDa and numerous Tea board trips throughout the day. The Saturday night Shreyas aDDa which culminated in the night long discussion on life, universe and everything outside the Gymkhana.

This was really the place that made me what I am today. It taught me the real meaning of freedom and the responsibilities that come with it. To be anything I want to be. To be completely self-sufficient. To have dreams. It also taught me the real meaning of friendship and gave me amazing friends that I will always treasure and miss. The strength to miss a lot of things and still move on. The strength to stand up to people and do the right things. It also showed me why I tend to miss places and not people. Because what we think of as places are really the intersection of many people all at the same time and place. And Bangalore gave me the opportunity to interact with the perfect medley of people. It gave me a place to form my own views and the confidence to express them.

In Bangalore, I do not see the glitter of MG Road, I see the quiet shades of the trees in IISc. I do not see the hep IT crowd, I see my friends in their tattered jeans and T-shirts, poor in their attire but not in their dreams. The cool coffee shops and restaurants give way to the coffee board and Tea board and mess with its quite atrocious food.

If Durgapur was the place that nurtured the little girl in me, Bangalore was the place that made me the human being I am.

Women's reservation bill and all the controversy

2010-03-10T15:35:00.000-08:00

I was going through the BBC blog on the bill for reservation of seats for women in the parliament.

Firstly, let me make my point of view clear. I am against most reservations. Because I think reservations while giving the illusion of growth actually stymies it. There is a certain stigma attached to a person's attitude towards anybody who has come to a position with the help of reservation and not on his/her merit alone. I think that stigma in itself is detrimental to growth. But, then again when airing this view I have been asked about what I feel about the reserved seats or compartments in the local transportations in the Indian cities or suburbs. I am always a bit pained at what the answer to this question is. I have faced the perils that a young girl undergoes everyday when commuting to and from work/schools/colleges and I have to agree that this reservation is a "necessary evil". Now that I have sort of cleared my point of view with regard to general reservation, let me make some comments on the reservation of parliamentary seats. This reservation is in some way more crucial than reservation of seats in a bus or seats in an educational institution for that matter. There are definitely two sides to this reservation. It is my belief (and in no way is it supported by any statistical analysis) that inclusion of women in the legislative system might lead to increase in importance given to certain issues that are most crucial for women and may otherwise be overlooked by men. However, I seriously doubt the statement (in the BBC blog) that women are less prone to be corrupt than men. There has been the added concern aired that this reservation might lead to women being elected who would be puppets in the hand of their male relatives. While this situation might indeed happen, this is no different than the 'male relatives' actually in the government and should not be an added concern. Even if a certain percentage of women are able to make decisions on their own that is a positive step. Overall this bill might have some positive effects on the lives of women in India.

However, this bill is only the first baby step towards betterment of the condition of the women in India. For the real improvement, there is need for all round socio-economic development and better education and awareness among the women. The bill in itself is no reason for rejoicing. It is the effect of the bill and the way it is implemented that could potentially be a cause for celebration.

As an after thought I was going over the various comments to the blog. That is where I was surprised --- in both good and bad way! I found many well meant comments both for and against the bill but recognizing the condition of women in India and the need for improvement. I did not think so many people (especially men) realized and felt for women. And I found people who refused to even believe that women are treated unfairly.

There was few comments noting that not everybody in India treats women in a derogatory manner. While this is true the broad general statement that Indian women are treated unfairly and with derogation is a truth that can hardly be argued. People also tend to compare the situation of women in India and the west. The argument put forward is always that we had a woman prime minister. I, myself am not under an illusion that women are treated equally anywhere. But there is a varying degree of equality and fairness. And while we have had a woman prime minister, the average Indian woman is still treated much much more unfairly than in the west. Women foeticide is still a common practice as well as dowry. Even in the urban areas and among educated people dowry and preferential treatment of male child is predominant. Women while they can work for a living are still expected to do all the house chores by themselves. This leads to a woman having to choose between work and home. The women who choose to stay at home and look after the household duties are left at the mercy of her male relatives (and made to be thoroughly aware of her precarious predicament) and the national per capita income does not show her as earning even if she does some part-time job from home.

.....

This was a post I had started writing a few months ago and got too agitated to see it to its completion. But, anyway I will keep hoping that someday women in India and everywhere else are treated with respect and viewed as equal to men.

Forest music

2008-11-10T06:21:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I heard a small essay on the forest music. I had some constructive criticism to put in. That got me thinking. What would I have written?! Here it should be pointed out. I have never really been to a forest. I have always wanted to. But, I can always imagine. I can always dream...

Let me dream ....

I woke up when the first rays of sunlight touched the soft green leaves of the trees all around me. The birds and insects were already up. They were busily going about with their daily life. I heard the birds twittering as they flew out to maybe find food. It was a November morning. Just starting to get colder. The time of the year when you can smell the air getting cooler and the plants starting to look forward to all the flowers that are going to bloom. It always smells of anticipation during this time of the year in the tropics. I could see the red rays of the morning sun through the leaves of the trees forming strange patterns, crisscrossing on the ground. Beams of light coming through the foliage and when I stood under it, I felt like I was on a stage with the spotlights on. Did I tell you, when I was young I used to be mystified by the morning rays of the sun as it came through the window? I wanted to hold it in my hand. Later on, I learnt that what I saw was not the sun ray but the dust particles. But, in my mind today I could again see the shimmering bits of dust as the little bits of sun rays frolicking on me. And I saw butterflies. In myriad colours. And I saw birds.

As the day got older, the suns rays got more even. The whole forest was lighted up with an even but not too strong light. I could hear lots of forest sound. The screeching calls of the animals. The rustle on the leaves as they moved. Maybe I saw a monkey or two. Maybe I imagined seeing a few more animals of unknown origin. And all the while I looked out of my little balcony into the forest. Then came the noon time somnolence. It seemed to have captured the forest. The forest rested. And I heard the distant soft sound of water flowing through a narrow stream. I had seen the stream the other day. It was a tiny rivulet. Not very remarkable.

The noon day siesta was over. I was sitting on my balcony looking at the wee hours of twilight. There is something strange about this time. Maybe it is rightly called the witching hours. I always feel a little melancholy at this time. Maybe the forest felt it too. The birds were flying back. They were talking to each other about their day. Maybe sternly telling their little ones to behave as the little ones all too excited to see their parents were scrambling for attention and also food. It was the family reunion time. And then slowly the birds fell silently to sleep and the crickets took on the forest. It was getting increasingly dark. The shrubs looked like tiny monsters and the huge trees loomed over everything ominously. I felt a small shiver run down my spine. The fear of the unknown took over. The only things other than the indistinct outline of trees were the fireflies and maybe the eyes of animals looking up at me. Hungrily? Fiercely? All I could hear was the indistinct rustle of leaves as some animals or rodents moved on them and the monotonous drone of the crickets. Some times a stray animal call. I felt like in an island.

And then I looked up into the sky. I saw stars. Like I have never seen them before. I saw the whole milky way looking at me. It was the most intricate diamond necklace that man could imagine. It was the most beautiful thing that god had created! I felt tiny. I felt insignificant. And then I felt one with the stars. I felt like the universe. It was breathtaking. A stray droplet of tear coursed down my cheek as I payed homage to the star-studded sky.

Ballygunge Court, the movie

2008-06-26T07:39:00.000-07:00

I finished watching the movie Ballygunge Court. It is a movie by Pinaki Chaudhari about the tragic lives of a few elderly couples in a Calcutta based multi-storeyed apartment complex called Ballygunge court.

Although the setting and circumstances look real enough, the movie can be at best called mediocre and weak. Assuming the Pinaki Chaudhari wanted to depict the plight of the modern senior citizen plight in Calcutta, I do not understand why he had to show it in such a negative light. Surely, the senior citizens deserve more dignity than this.

The movie starts with a middle-class elderly (?) house-wife being driven out of her home by her alcoholic husband being accidentally run-over by a car and the husband beating himself up while their son dumps the blame of her mothers death on his father and going abroad. Then we get acquainted with all the other couples in that complex. Sabyasyachi Chatterjee, the real cool dad. Soumitra Chatterjee who does not allow his son to move abroad and Mamata Shankar the understanding mother. Monoj Mitra, the lonely father who takes resort in gardening etc. And the oldest couple, the Hirani's who get murdered.

The movie has some good acting by Sabyasachi Chatterjee, Soumitra Chatterjee and Mamata Sankar and good music by Pt. Ajay Chakraborty.

But, other than that it is too slow and long drawn. And at times very self-contradictory. In the movie, Sabyasachi Chatterjee's daughter Begum goes away to Mumbai to join fashion designing school and with lot of guilt for that (shown in negative light) whereas the security guard of the building Rudy has left his cancer ailing mother in his village (shown in positive light) while it looks like the relative distance of Calcutta to the village is a couple of hours and that of Mumbai and Calcutta too is just a couple of hours by people who can afford to fly which surely Begum can.

Other such contradictory points are more evident. Like the fact that Soumitra and Mamata had been abroad busy earning money and fame while their son stayed in hostels but when they get old, it seems like suddenly all the equations get reversed and the son has to give up his life to stay and take care of his parents who by the way are neither senile nor incapacitated in any way. And even Soumitra is selfish enough to ask what his daughter-in-law would do in her parents' place for a week! That was ridiculous! Just because she is a good wife and good daughter-in-law and just because he is used to her being around does not mean that her own parents do not mean anything to her! I found it a bit harrowing that she had to ask permission to go to her place and really beg and cajole. And also the logic of the daughter-in-laws sister was infallible in a way that when she comes back home for holiday from UK she will spend all the time with her parents unlike her sister, the perfect wife and daughter-in-law who cannot take care of her parents that way. The fallible part of her logic according to me is that she thought she would be able to come back for 5-7 weeks. That kind of holiday is unthinkable.

What amazes me even more is that all the parents wanted to keep their sons and daughters back so that they could take care of their parents, but never came up with the term 'brain drain'. Never asked them to stay back because of their country. Because of what they owed to the country. And the question of how Soumitra's daughet-in-law almost never visited her parents came into the equation.

There were however strong points that the Hirani's kept trying to get through to their son and hit the unbudging wall of the answering machine. It was heartless of their son to leave behind two very old and helpless people behind without bothering to ask after them or take care of their well-being.

But, these well-made points are few and far between. Mostly it turns out to be a tale of selfishness of everybody, young and old and the general indignity of the senior citizens and the changing family structure in urban India. Of the age old Bengali emotional blackmail.

robibar (my first bengali blog)

2007-05-05T20:45:00.000-07:00

baire theke ek chilte roddur eshe bole dilo bhor hoechhe… tobuo bichhanar opor arekbar gorie nilam… tarpor mone porlo aj robibar… tai abar balish Ta ke jorie dhorlam…

Baire theke pasher barir unon dhoranor gondho ashchhe… ki porichito gondho… tobu majhemajhe eto bhalo laage… ei gondoTai bujhi paoa jae kolkatar snetapora golir majhe… jekhane konodino rod Dhoke na… naki seta purono barir gondho?! Jaihok shue shuei shunte pachchhi baire corporation er kole koekjon mukh dhuchchhe… robibarer alshemite e baranda theke o barandae ekTu golpo gachha… robibarer alshemi kaTie rickshaw r awaj… amader shamner rasta Ta boro bhanga chora tai kono gari gele, emonki rickshaw geleo awaj hoe… ar oi to shona jachchhe rojkar moto Thakurer naam gaan korte korte ganga snan e cholechhen ke ekjon… enake roji gaite shuni, dekhini konodin i…

Aste aste diner byastota arombho hochchhe… baire onek hnakDak kotha batra… ar amar janla diye asha ek chilte roddur ekhon sara ghor bhorie diyechhe…

uThlam… uThe janlar pordar fnak diye dekhlam… shudhui shada borof… ar mon kharap kora akash… kuashae prae Dhaka ekTa enkebenke chola rasta…

tai aage ja ja bollam se shob ghoTchhe hajar hajar mile dure… aami majhemajhei bujhte pari na aami kothae aachhi… roddur ar mon kharap akash Ta milemishe ekakar hoe jae… pine gachher gondher shonge mishe jae shei kotodurer dhnoyar gondho… kuasha keTe giye dekhi hajar mile durer sonali roddur eshe porechhe sada borof e…

......

e shobi banano kotha... ashole shokkal bela uThei janlar fnak diye meghla akash Ta dekhe chokh bondho kore bhablam amar hajar mile durer roddurer deshe... bairer nishabdo rasta Ta ke bhablam amar parar bhanga mukhor rasta... mile er por mile pore thaka shada borof e ekTu ronger chhnoa anlam...

wedenessday blues

2007-04-11T11:51:00.000-07:00

The day started out with me making lunch to take with me... then i don't know how the lunch, rice rajma and all flew at me and fell all over me and the kitchen... the perfect trajectory to create the maximum disaster... ok... so i changed... put as much perfume as i could to make me smell less like a walking rajma-rice... and ran to catch the bus... wonder of all wonder!!! i actually got the bus... of course because it was late... which just means that i was late for class... i entered all sweaty and red and smelling like indian spices and not indian perfume... they really do not go well together... trust me!!!!!

After due time, the class was over... it was almost lunch time... so poor me without lunch went and had soup... we have a really good soup place... but disaster strikes again... the soup was made of cucumber!!! how was i supposed to know that from the really exotic name?! anyway had the cucumber broth... came and started working... o i am paid (really a meager salary) to write a couple of codes for some quantum chem thingey... all irrelevant and theoretical stuff about a make belief world my friends tell me... but anyway i started working... and soon i had three versions of the same code none of which compiles... oh no... one of them compiles... and gives me a wrong result... did i say result?! no ... actually it gives me a segmentation fault... and i am still deciding which version is the one that i should start working on... and in the meantime writing this blog...

and today is a wednessday... which means i am so very tired from the almost three weekdays... and weekend is still so far away!!!!!! sigh!!!!!!!!

tea

2007-02-01T18:14:00.000-08:00

of late i have taken to experimenting different kind of tea... actually, i have this friend who treated me to some turkish herbal tea which is made of apple tea, ginger and some flower and i simply loved it... and now i have found out this online tea shopping site called teavana... there are tons of exciting combinations that i never thought possible...

and oh! i have fallen in love with jasmine tea... and the last day i went grocery shopping the shop actually did not have jasmine tea... and i am out of it... and i think i am going to die without it...

i think i am getting addicted to tea... i should try to not have tea for sometime... but then is it worth it?! i wonder!

driving...

2007-02-01T18:03:00.000-08:00

i have come to the conclusion that i HAVE to learn driving and endanger the lives of all forms of life moving or not moving on the streets and maybe not even on the streets...

well, this place really has no proper public transport system... the name carpool sounds distant and uncomfortable to most people... and there is no concern about the massive wastage of fuel that is going on to support comfortable (?!) and personalized transport... therefore, i have learn driving... and well, i have been known as a dangerous species on a bike... i get to be even more dangerous in a car... that's the only thought that is kind of making me feel a bit happy these days...

some day...

2006-08-16T12:44:00.000-07:00

some day i will become a bird... a tiny little humming bird... and fly into the sun... can the humming birds fly that high?! i don't know... but i will... and i will die in the process... but i will die so happy...
people keep telling me to do things seriously... some say 'u can write a few lines, why don't u do that seriously?!' some say 'since u can paint a little, why don't u paint seriously?!' others say 'since u like playing with ur camera, why don't u take pictures seriously?!' but i simply cannot... seriousness is a concept unknown to me... is it?! well, when i work it is serious... no not really... i don't even work seriously... what do i work in?! oh something little and insignificant... doesn't really matter... but what matters is that nothing is serious... whenever i try to keep a straight "serious" face, a smile trickles out...
how are people so serious?! they discuss about life and universe with a unsmiling face... it is so scary... they even can play seriously... as if it isn't an oxymoron... when i do anything, say paint or write or take pictures, i feel free... u know, a rush of feel good hormones and a whiff of cool breeze on my face... and i am just so overwhelmed... i can't look for inner meaning and such serious stuff... i just feel it somewhere deep down... what do i feel?! "good" is a very inadequate word... all words are inadequate in fact... i feel like i am standing on the top of the world... with all the universe around me... i feel like the universe itself... and i am so happy and overwhelmed that nothing else means anything...
my heart and head mingles and all the colours and words and feelings mingle... and i am so terribly incoherent... i don't say anything through anything that i do... they are just a piece of pure joy, a tiny bit of sun-ray... even the "work" that i do... they are my children... i let them grow unfettered and unhindered... i do love them with everything in me... sometimes i feel the day when i stop loving it and feeling this way, i will just cease to live...

my friend...

2006-08-13T15:42:00.000-07:00

today i just felt like i had to write about something... first i thought i would write about a star... you know i have a friendly star in a little brook... but then i kept it for another day... then i thought of the little cat... what cat?! just some cat that i like... not actually... i haven't seen it... but i believe i like it... :-) ... but then decided to keep that for another day too... and so now i will write about my first good friend...
his name was something... but i am not going to tell u his actual name... i will call him Nobody... he wouldn't have liked this name for himself... but i am the author now, so I will call him that... he wasn't really mr. nobody... he was a nice little kid... with a little tuft of upruly hair sticking up right from the center of his head... he thought that that bit of unruly hair made him look cool... but i thought otherwise...
we lived in this Utopia of mine ( read "i remember" and u will get to know)... he used to lived in one of the six apartments in our so called township... and i was two months older than him... and was one year senior to him in studies... and wanted him to call me "didi" and he never did... Nobody and me... we were the best-est playmates... we hunted for buried treasure... and bunny holes... and tried to make up stories about each little land mark... and literally used to make a mountain of a mole hill... we had decided that the forest had fairies... and that they charmed the snakes that lived there... and also tried to see how the fairies looked... but never saw any... :-( ... we liked talking to the trees and the stars and stones... and everything... well, it was mostly liked talking to them... and he liked to see me talk to them... and even tried to make me believe that they did not listen to them... but i never believed him...
and he liked to learn and show little magic tricks... i still remember that when we left the place, he had asked me how i would recognise him later on... and i had replied that i would look for a crazy guy who always showed some crazier magic tricks and they invariably failed... however, i never did meet him anymore... so i did not have to recognise him...
and Nobody and me... we learnt to ride the bicycle together... of course i was better than him... but he wasn't that bad either... and we used to test each others balance on the wheels... and of course i was the better... no just kidding! both of us equally bad... and both of us wanted to show off... and ended up with multicoloured bruises all over our knees and elbows... and we had such great fun!
and what else?! we used to have the most epic fights where we have vowed never to talk to each other and yet within an hour our laughter echoed through the little township... some times the fights did cross the verbal limit... and i being the tom-boyish type that i was, gave him a fair fight... we were a real pretty sight after each evenings play time... well we had to come back to our apartments by 7pm and sit down to finish our homeworks... but after that really exhaustive play or fight or treasure hunt, we were always too tired...
well... what else?! he was an impossible sissy... but who cares?! he was my first real good friend... he wasn't really Nobody... Nobody was somebody in my life...

i aspire.

2006-08-12T19:39:00.000-07:00

one day i aspire to tell the truth. weird aspiration, huh? will never turn into reality? that's what you think? that's what even I think... but this is the one hope that keeps me going.

i hope to tell u how i hated being alive. how i hated smiling at u. how i hated talking and pretending to listen. i couldn't care less. i wanted to throw off the cloak of pretense and tear u apart with questions that cannot be asked.

why do i write???

2006-08-07T10:40:00.000-07:00

why do people write??? i don't know... maybe to express themselves or maybe to make a point... maybe to earn money... maybe to show-off... maybe to feel proud of themselves... or maybe for the same reason that i write...
why do i write??? i write because i cannot talk... well, am i mute??? not really! not quite! but almost... is that the only reason why i write??? do i really have anything to tell people??? not really... i don't want to tell anybody anything... i don't want to communicate... but i do want to have the joy of breaking free... and writing gives me that... the joy that a peacock feels when it rain-dances... the joy of reckless driving maybe...
then why will i post this??? i don't know... maybe so that few days after when maybe i will not have so much time to write, i can read this and be happy... u see, not always do i have thoughts that can be strung into beads of words and sentences... and even if i have not always do i have the time to write them down...

what if...

2006-08-07T10:31:00.000-07:00

I have heard people say that life is not an empty dream... what if it were actually a DREAM... maybe not an empty one... although i never understood the meaning of an EMPTY dream... a dream is never empty... it always has something in it... but, that's not the point...
maybe life is a dream... a quite long one in comparison to what we think to be dreams... in one long night... and we enter that dream when we are born and then stop dreaming when we die... and most of the time we want to keep dreaming that is living like we do in most dreams... but like all dreams it stops at one time... and maybe we wake up into death... and stay awake for another death-time(the equivalent of a lifetime maybe or at least of the same order)... and then sleep into another dream of life... it would be really interesting...
somebody once said as a logic towards having another inhabitable planet that if there is one there can be two or three and so on... so if there can be one type of dream... i guess there can be the next level of dream... and maybe the next... and so on... and that would be so funny... it would be like watching a mirror inside a mirror inside a mirror.... and so on... or a dream in a dream in a dream... hah hah!
maybe u aren't finding this funny! but who cares! i wrote this for myself...

the story of the little girl...

2006-08-06T17:23:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there was a little girl.. she lived in a tower... a beautiful tower surrounded by seas on all sides... and the waves lapped on to the sides of the tower... and frothed and foamed... and seagulls flew... and she could see the northern lights... and look out into the open seas... and the tower was very comfortable... but was she happy?! she didn't think so... she wanted to go down into the world beneath... she was tired of seeing life passing by without taking any part in it... she wanted to be free... oh! u want to know her name, right?! since i like the name i will call her Dot.

one night Dot was very very unhappy and lonely and she had cried herself to sleep... and suddenly in the middle of the night she felt something brush her cheeks... she opened her eyes... and right in front of her she saw another tiny girl... with a dress made of stars... she was so surprised... she knew that the tower did not have any doors... where did this girl come from??? but she was so happy... and that girl (who introduced herself as Mini) kissed Dot on her cheeks.. held out her hands... and led Dot through the window... Dot was scared... after all she could see the rocks and waves far down and could imagine how painful it would be fall down from that height... but again to her surprise... before she knew what was happening she had walked straight through the window and out over the clouds... and there were so many more small girls and boys... and they played and talked and played... and never quarelled... but she was so scared to talk to them... she also found that Mini was not by her side.. she started to cry... and then the clouds started to touch her cheeks... wiped her tears... and even started talking to her... cloud told her how much he loved her... and she smiled... and then the sun-ray came though the cloud... and sun ray was wearing a beautiful dress of so many colours... and then there was another beautiful girl dressed in a dress of stars... she introduced herself as night... and the night and sun-ray and cloud played with her... talked to her... giggled with her... gave her flowers... and together they chased the multicoloured butterflies... it was magical... Dot was happier than ever... and after she had played with them for a long long time... she was tired... and she slept on the soft bed of cloud...

and then she woke up and found herself inside her own stone tower... she was so dissapointed... she was so sad... it was all a dream she thought... and she wanted to cry her heart out... when suddenly found a lock of sun-rays golden hair... and a tiny little star... oh! she was HAPPY! she sang through the day... and danced to the rythm of the waves breaking on the stone... next night she again played with her friends... but again lost them in the morning... she became accustomed to this way of life... only she wanted to see her friends after daybreak too... so decided never wake up... she was so happy when she slept and in her sleep she dreamt of her friends... well it wasn't really a dream... and yet she could never have her friends in the daytime... so she slept for a long long time... and never woke up... not really... sometimes she woke up... cos u see there was no witch to put a spell on her to sleep for a thousand years... and whenever she used to wake up, she was sad...

and then one day ... when she was awake and sad and looking out of the window... what did she see??? there was a nice man or was he a prince, who walked in through the window... how did he manage to do that??? she didn't know... she didn't know whether to be happy or scared... but the man was nice... he talked to her... about the world beneath... told her so many nice things... and wanted her to step out of the window... she was so scared... after all this wasn't a dream... she was wide awake... she didn't want to leave the tower... so the man being a really nice man stayed with her... urging her to take the first step out of the window... and told her he would protect and cherish her always... and held out his hand... Dot... she was so happy and yet so scared... and she held out her hand... apprehensive at first... then slowly believed in him... and started to walk out of the window... and lo and behold! just as they stood on the window sill... the tower started losing its height... and the sea on all sides disappeared... and they walked out hand in hand into the world... a real world ... with people in it... and misery and hope... and love and hate... and she no longer looked on as the world passed by... and she held on to his hand... and never let go...

well, is that the end of story??? do u want to know whether they lived happily ever after?? i think they did but i will have to ask them and confirm...

i remember...

2006-08-03T15:12:00.000-07:00

from the title u must be thinking that i am going to get totally nostalgic and sentimental... You are absolutely correct... I am going to write about my first love...

Of course not a man. who could love a man to remember him like this?! it wasn't even living... but it was still vibrant with life... it was the place in which i had spent a major part of my childhood, golden years and whatever they call it.

When I was 2 years or a little older I was uprooted from my ancestral place to this place. Well, of course I felt like I was uprooted and I was upset. Afterall I had lived there all my life, however insignificantly small. And I came to this magical place. Let me call it Utopia. Because it was my Utopia. How does it matter what its actual name was?! To me it was a dream place anyway. So what do you mean by 'actual'?

Anyway, so in Utopia, I used to stay in this quaint little township in the middle of nowhere and it was surrounded by forests. The township as it was called could hardly be called that. Only six (sometimes less) families stayed there. It was really in the middle of the wilderness. My parents thought it a very inconvenient place. But, I loved every bit of the pink walls of the building. Well, the outside of our house was painted in pink, you know. And right in front of it there were two Debdaru trees(what do u call it in english?!). They stood like toy soldiers outside a toy castle. Only the soldiers never moved. They swayed and shivered in the breeze. They made me so happy! Then came the cobble stoned path half covered in sand. I never asked where so much sand came from. But, it was fun. I didn't have to go to some sea shore to build sand castles. And all around there were really tall trees. And strange looking shrubs. And foot tracks through them. Our favorite place to try and discover a new track or to hunt for buried treasure. Well, I did manage to recover a worn sock, a broken cup, a beautiful key, and some mysterious looking bones. Well, at least it was mysterious to me at that time.

And in that little forest of mine, there were white hares and cunning jackals. The hares were so cute and furry and scuttered all over the place. The jackals liked to hunt for the hares. And never caught them. The tiny things were so extremely fast.

And some distance away from our house, some Nepali families lived. They used to sing with their guitars at night. Around a fire in the winter time. The flames and the smoke twisted and danced with them. And out of the flames high up you could see the form of a fairy. Circling high above. Singing with them. Singing with us.

And there was a haunted looking church in the short-cut from school to my home. It wasn't really haunted. Nobody had seen anything with a white dress at night. Or any ethereal melancholic voice. But, I liked to imagine that it was haunted. And also liked to think that the ghosts were really nice people, er ghosts. And that they liked me. And so they never scared me. But, used to chat with me and treat me to tea ( I wasn't allowed to have tea that time but you see, I was so awefully fond of it.). They were really sweet ghosts.

So, you see how my Utopia was. It had cute house with nice soldiers and sand and cobble stone, a jungle to hunt for treasures, a nice church with nice ghosts... a nice school... didn't I tell you I loved this school... and two nice dogs... oh, I had forgotten to tell about them... Jackie and Blackie... they were the sweetest meekest pets... they weren't really pet dogs... but they always stayed with me and played with me and even helped me unearth some treasures... so they WERE my pet dogs... they even came to the little pond where I used to go and throw stones and play... what play?! o... i used to throw really flat pieces of stone and see how many times it can bump over the water surface without going under... i don't know the name of the game... for a very long time, i thought i had invented it, till i saw somebody else play it and then somebody and then some more...

so I had lived in this cute little Utopia of mine and I had loved it... and still love it... are u going to ask the usual question?! "am I going to go back to it?" ... you know that's a silly question... firstly, it is with me... how else could I remember and tell you all this... and about going back and actually living in that place?? well, I think that would be silly too. afterall it would have changed... Utopia will not be Utopia anymore... oh, i am not talking about whether the change is for good or not... any change will make my Utopia into something else... I wouldn't want that.. would I? and also............... this way I can always keep hoping of seeing my Utopia right in front of my eyes. and i have it to dream about... i wouldn't want to spoil that...

after a REALLY long time

2006-08-03T10:09:00.000-07:00

I logged into this blog id after a really really long time. I was actually quite sure I will never be able to find it out. Or better still it might have been deleted or something like. But, no! I am logged in. And so I decided to peek into the previous blog that I had written(you can hardly call it a blog). It was just a one-liner and that too copied from the great bard. Well, since it was just an hopeless blog, I thought nobody would have looked at it and obviously nobody would have bothered to write any comment. It did not even deserve criticism. But, lo and behold! I saw a really long string of comments. Most of them starting with something like " I read your blog and found it interesting." WOW!!! I am enthralled, ecstatic and exhuberant, and some more pentasyllabic and eloquent expressions, with the comments. They actually READ the blog and even found it INTERSTING!!!

Well, of course after being interested and blah blah blah they wanted to sell me a college degree or some lumber shares... or some such things... and was so SURE that from the blog they discovered that I was interested in these stuff...

And now if you are wondering what the eloquent one-liner was , it was "Sweet are the uses of adversity"... and the reason I wrote this was the mere fact that I did not know what to write and somebody was standing right behind me with a bazooka in hand telling me to write something, anything in the blog... and I being a mere uncreative mortal remembered one line from a play that I read about 7 years back.