Convicted Escapist

Earlier this year, a haircut I had and a shave I chose not to have left me with hair of 5mm length all over my head and face. (Well, except the considerable area on my head which had forgotten the art of hair growing!) One of my friends, on seeing this, commented that I looked like an 'escaped convict'. I replied him, "I may look so, but actually I am a 'convicted escapist'!".

Childhood dreams and desires, adolescent dreams, desires and ambitions give way to a nothingness, due to failures or awareness or laziness or all of these. One grows into an individual, truly alone. Everyone, including one's parents, siblings and friends, is other people. (One remembers Sartre's remark: 'Hell is other people') One carries no responsibility, except the ones that are strictly his alone.

We, four friends, were traveling in Tuticorin Express, from Nellai to Bangalore, when one of them expressed his concern about the image of India that would be formed in a foreigner's mind when he sees all the ugliness that prevails and atrocities that happen here. I replied, "Well, I don't identify myself with my state or country or language or anything. So, tell me if I'm doing anything wrong. I am not concerned about anything that others do"

One sees around all the good people doing the bad things, thinking what they think good is THE good! Whole media is heated up in discussion about a national issue. There are people for and against a certain thing. One finds the truth in both. Don't ask, why can't one find out the best solution! One might come up with a best solution, but why should it be considered the best by the rest? One recognizes and respects the right of others to differ from him. And, nothingness prevails.

During one lunch discussion, a friend says that we have to choose between the devil and the deep sea. Yes, we were discussing about Tamil Nadu politics. I reveal my decision of never voting again. He asks, "But in democracy, do we have a better option?" My answer is, "Democracy? That wasn't MY choice". "I don't need anyone to represent me in assembly or parliament or temple. I am not going to mistake other individual's ambitions to be in my interest. I don't need it"

One calls it 'individualism' at times, 'wisdom' some times. There are more: ignorance, foolishness, arrogance. And, one day, one starts suspecting that it is escaping from one's responsibilities, even after being aware. One starts accusing oneself of being an escapist. But this doesn't stay forever. One is thrown between the extremes, hit hard in each point that lie between! Some call this is masochism (not in a sexual context, of course)! How about machoism?

Forget the isms!
One is convicted by oneself for being aware of being an escapist (or whatever).

Another Massacre

Look at these:
This is in Tamil. Those who don't know Tamil, please excuse.
A poem on a massacre that happened in SriLanka.
http://karthikraamas.net/pathivu/?p=143

This is in English. But, you can understand even if you don't know English.
WARNING: STORY CONTAINS UNEDITED PHOTO FROM MASSACRE SITE
http://www.tamilnet.com/art.html?catid=13&artid=18447

ayyo!

BEST FROM THE WORST

As I mentioned in my previous post...
Here are the best ones I liked from me, during the past few months period!
I feel, it's these strong emotions (up or low, right or left) that bring out the best. But these are only the second best, first one being the peace and calmness and creation therefrom.

ok! Here I go!

Let me start with one of the drawings!



And more...
*When I touch Love, that's where I should stop a post titled 'Gone with the wind'

*I thought I was bored. Guess I wasn't.

*What were her pebbles? Is it those date fruits or me?

*Worst of all is, I cannot decide to be innocent. There is no looking back, is there?

*So, I was going to tell and I felt ridiculous.
I was telling and I felt ridiculous.
I told and heard 'Ridiculous!'.

*towards a new future
as old as his past.

*This is the best! March 21st. A sacrificial lamb lead the priest to the altar. Got killed and rested convinced. Felt ridiculous all through the process!

*the person, who asked me to keep in touch, but wished just the opposite.

*I choose to just go over all my options again and again, and then to play a game of Hearts! It's easy when played on a laptop.

*I became blind to all the other possibilities and by then the question had vanished unable to survive my constant stare at it. Questions don't get answer; They disappear. And, you are left with the answer you would have liked, anyway

*I saw a corpse there, starting to disintegrate right in front of the eyes of its creator

* A friend: Hope you are sporting your green shirt always :) (clue: Green on Valentine's day means the wearer is waiting)
Me: My green shirt? I left it in Bangalore. I haven't brought anything green, except for Medimix soap. Even that I am not using nowadays. :-) I have green-gram powder instead, oh another green! But when you beat it, break it and grind it, it's not green anymore. It becomes as pale as dead. (Wow! I like this. I got it perfect, didn't I?)

*A friend: Good luck on that. You wil find answers to a lot of life's dilemmas after that
Me: Hmmmm... I don't see anything happening in the near future. I'm not wearing green anyway.
If anything happens, I don't think I will find answers to the dilemmas. I will just have to ignore few of them, because I would have chosen a different path. Only way for these dilemmas to go seems to be the pressing necessity of choosing a path where you wouldn't have time/energy/heart for those questions again. Will I do it!!? Don't know.

I'M HAPPY TODAY

I was walking, alone, in the midst of unknown flowers that spread the fragrance in the air and happiness in the minds. I wondered that it has taken more than a month for me to walk here and to know the existence of these flowers in the neighborhood.

So, what happened today that made me do this?
It's not something that happened today. Probably everything that has been happening for the past few days have helped me to regain what I had lost.

This morning, I unsubscribed from the groups that call themselves 'pessimists', 'terminally single' etc. Just a few days back I thought I have been a pessimist from birth. How did I forget the rainy evenings that I walked in Koramangala streets, gently touching the road side tree leaves making them shower their blessings on me? How did I forget the heavy rains that washed all my thoughts down, while I was lying on the BTM house terrace, with just a towel around my waist? How did I forget the kids that smile at me? How did I forget the moments that filled me with ecstacy, wherever I was in, temple, travel, in front of a TV or a book, or alone!

Thanks to,
* this space, which allowed me to pour down all I had in my mind.
* the Sunday evening, which led me to this, probably
* the movie 'Pleasantville'!
* Time, which heals the worst of one's wounds.
* hearts which I feel I'm close to.
* one who made all this possible!

My next post is going to be my best! (no blind optimism, this)

SMILE IN PLEASANTVILLE-2

This Sunday evening, I was sitting on a bench, reading a book. Shouldn't it be the other way? Reading a book, sitting on a bench? No. In my case, primarily I was sitting on the bench. While I was reading, there was another thread of thought running, which could relate and converse with the book. The chapter was about boredom and the thought was about my interests. And, I thought I had some clear understanding of both at the end of it. But now I don't remember what exactly it is!

Earlier in the afternoon, I watched the movie 'Pleasantville' . I liked the movie very much.

Here is the story of the movie.
David and Jennifer somehow go back in time, into the town Pleasantville of a 1950's TV serial called Pleasantville. While they need to wait to come back to present, their presence changes the town and the lives. There are people accepting the new, there are people who hate the new things in their town. How the whole town comes to Life, is the rest of the movie.

Comedy?
Yes, it's a comedy. But a lot more. The serial was telecast in Black and White era. So, Pleasantville has no colours. But, people who feel the life in them start appearing in colours. This outrages the old-timers and the town committee passes orders against the 'coloured' people. A husband is spellbound and horrified when his wife answers his question 'what were you doing' with a simple 'thinking'.

More?
As it happens with any revolution, here this change is made visible and partly possible through arts and literature. Town committee orders the closure of the library. 'Public' burn the books and destroy the building that has the paintings.

Watching this movie, I realised how we get used to things and how we long to maintain the status quo. We like change, but not too much of it! But when you see the real life inside, you live in the present not worrying about the next moment.

This movie can give insights in indivual, spiritul, political or social planes.
There can be hundreds of better movies out there. But the impact this movie had on me was just immense.

This movie had a girl, whose smile was wonderful. It had the innocence, wonder, love and ... and... Life. I was smiling with her all the way. How beautiful, a smile is! When she cried, I did it too. How beautiful, a smile is! As I became aware of the happiness that this smile created in me, I was also reminded of my hatred and jealousy. I have been trying to get rid of these, but success is only superficial. Suddenly, this smile showed me a way out of these. At least I thought so.

I am not going to tell everything I thought. Words kill the feeling. When I put down them here in words, I feel guilty of killing something. (as I wrote in "One more in my mortuary")

The book I read and the movie I watched made me write a mail, working in the order mentioned above, though their chronological order was the opposite.

I wrote a few paragraphs, explaining what it is for, what I want, in response to my urge to replace some untold pain with a smile. And I saw a corpse there, starting to disintegrate right in front of the eyes of its creator. I deleted them and replaced with 'I deleted a few paragraphs, which were present in the place of this single line'.

Just before clicking on 'send', I buried that line too. Now, the mail looked much better. I am trying hard to smile!

P.S: I posted this yesterday. Today I enhanced it and suffixed the title with '-2'! Also, I undid one compromise I had done earlier. :-)

I don't have cancer!!!

After reading my previous posts, few of my friends are worried if I am really, fully down with some depression. ok! Not really.

There are lot of other things happening.

I completed reading Midnight's Children. Liked it. Will write more about it later.

In March, I was able to do Padmasanam (after 15 yrs!). I started doing it so regularly and religiously that it resulted in tissue inflammation in my right shin. Though I ignored it initially, I was alarmed when it started increasing and spreading. I went to a clinic here. The whole thing took around three hours, most of which was spent in waiting for one or other thing. Allowed X-Rays to touch me for the first time in my life. (as if it was waiting!) When it was over, doctor told this. "I'm relieved. It's not cancer". I was relieved too, for I had thought of that possibility as well. Now, back to sukhasanam.

mmm... what else? I can't think of any!
Ah! Yesterday I changed the password for one of my accounts. What's special in it? That was the last one which had a particular name. And, it's not over. My new password has a serious question hidden in it! And, that's ridiculous! I'm back.

Am I really, fully down?

Few Twenty Firsts

Today, May 21st.

I remember 1991's May 21, I was in Thalayolaparambu, Kerala to spend my summer vacation. Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated and a man who came to my uncle's shop accused us all Tamils for that.

There was 2005, Dec 21, which saw me wandering along the streets, talking to myself over an important thing. I was trying to decide. Should I, shouldn't I? I decided in the affirmative but it was only three months later, only after I became blind to all the other possibilities and by then the question had vanished unable to survive my constant stare at it. Questions don't get answer; They disappear. And, you are left with the answer you would have liked, anyway.

Then came 2006, Jan 21, a Saturday. I was at home, alone, trying to draw a particular drawing, which I was trying for quite some time then. And on that day, I was successful. I have taken it with me, but haven't taken out yet. Let me see how long I can resist!

Feb 21, 2006. Nothing much to say. I was battling myself again.

This is the best! March 21st. A sacrificial lamb lead the priest to the altar. Got killed and rested convinced. Felt ridiculous all through the process!

On April 21st, I started my flight to U.S. And, I wrote the following.

Bangalore Airport. 9:35PM, 21st Apr 2006.

I have a choice, now.
A choice that gives me freedom to choose one from so many options.
I can continue reading 'Midnight's children', from where I left a week ago.
I can take out AK Ramanujan's poems, close eyes, open any page of the book and read.
I can watch TV, though it's some stupid program running.
Or, listen to one of the hundreds of songs I have in my laptop.
Or, just keep looking around.
Or, eat something from the coffee day outlet here.

But, I don't know what to do.
There is another luring option; I can just sit there and start thinking.
About what?
About my parents, who had come to send me off...
My project and the hard work and a harder manager that await me in the USA...
Or, about a call that I wanted to make before leaving, but didn't.
About the person, whom I wanted to talk to, but didn't.
About the person, who asked me to keep in touch, but wished just the opposite.

But I choose to just go over all my options again and again, and then to play a game of Hearts! It's easy when played on a laptop.

JORNEY JUST STARTED

When I was browsing a web site searching for an apartment to rent or a roommate to share it with, I found a fortune forecast for me. It read 'you will inherit a big amount today'. Good one for a classifieds page, isn't it? But, I realized suddenly that it was true. Just a few hours back, I had gone to a Bank of America branch here to close my old account and open a new account. To my surprise, she told that I had more than 1100$ in my old accounts. I didn't expect anything over a 500 dollars, frankly. So, isn't that an inheritance (though not a big amount)? From whom? From Vidyasakaran of 2003, who had come to Texas, USA.

That's how his financial planning was. He never knew how much money, in US Dollars, he had here. Never cared to check that. Was prepared to hear the news that his bank account was closed due to inactivity.

And, as on today, I am no better in financial planning. I remain the same in that aspect. I don't regret my carelessness.

Leave financial planning out, I have changed, I think, and how!

In 2003 August, I landed here as an ardent devotee, believer. Now, I don't worship, I don't pray. Though I have taken the painting of Lord Shiva (which I had brought and worhipped last time) with me now, (just in case...) it is still inside my suitcase, uncovered.

In 2003, I went to office everyday with sacred ash prominently smeared on my forehead, more prominently because of my complexion. Now, it is more than a year since I stopped wearing ash, since I dropped it when I realized that it had become just a habit.

Three years back when I came, I had a few senior colleagues whom I was depending, for everything. And, I was quite happy about that. They did everything for me. I just continued my home life, which I was missing from the time I left for my college in 1996. I didn't drive, I didn't plan trips, I didn't activate my ATM card, didn't take a credit card, didn't buy a phone card. I enjoyed my surrender to them. I had even compared that with Vaishnavism's total surrender, in my thoughts, then. I was taken care of, thoroughly.

Now, I still live with the help from guys here and that is intolerable. I would like to break myself free and go out and live all alone, whatever that might take. It can be probably because I am one of the senior guys here. Or because, I don't know these people before. But, I don't think I will ever be able to as carefree as I was.

Last time, I was overwhelmed looking at this country, at least for the first few days. Now, it's not there. OK, it had disappeared within the first few days of my last trip, but it came back strongly, when I saw Mumbai, Bangalore Airports and Bangalore roads on my way back. Now, it seems to be a usual place, some times. At other times, I long to be in the midst of pollution and commotion of Bangalore.

Last time, I landed with my suitcase containing Bhagavad Gita (which I read every morning for well over 2.5 yrs) and War and Peace (Leo Tolstoy). When I went back, I had Atlas Shrugged, I had just started reading then.
Now, I didn't take Gita. I have brought Midnight's Children, JK's Commentary on Living and Amartya Sen's Argumentative Indian.

Three years back, I came here with a mind that was in peace, that had faith, that was clear. Happy? I said peace, what more one wants? I never had to stop and wonder if I was happy. A real evidence to say that I was happy, right?

Now, I can't say I'm very happy. Just out of a, should I write this, failed dream, though it still lingers and tortures now and then. Add to that all these... New into a project which has been going on for long time. No idea about my place in the team. Little idea about the work I'm going to do. Above all these, confusion over future, present and the past. No idea what I want to do in life. No, I'm not going to add more.

So, that's how it is right now...
I have to get my driver's license, get a good place to stay and probably a car, credit card. Oh... I just hate all the work I have to do for these things. But, I am not going to let anyone else do these for me.

Bye for now.

ON MY WAY

I'm on my way to the U.S.A. Writing this from Singapore Changi Airport.
Will be busy once I reach there, at least for the first few weeks. Lot of things though, to write here. Hope I get enough time and interest!

ONE MORE IN MY MORTUARY

I saw It rising.
from an unknown corner
of mind.

Took in my hand,
enquired its origins;
Demanded
reason and explanation,
for its birth, existence
and persistence.
Cut it into pieces,
to analyse
and to classify.

Oh.. here is some conclusion.
Now, decorate it,
with puzzling words,
no rhymes, out of style.
Try make it
sharp and taut, though dead.

Now,
push it into your mortuary.
Visitors waiting,
to appreciate, congratulate
to wonder, feel good
to dissect the already dead,
and to find their conclusion
to decorate their mortuary.

ALL ABOUT A JUNKYARD

It's a junkyard.

Yes, it's a junkyard,
seen
from a running bus;
through the window,
a two legged animal would spit
soap stinking tobacco on,
later;
by a twenty six years old boy
or ... young man;
on his way home;
leaving behind and carrying
his love untold and rejected;
gathering the pieces
of his heart
broken in his eyes;
towards a new future
as old as his past.

SAT DOWN AND WEPT

I was roaming around in BTM Layout, unsuccessfully looking for a doctor who won't mind working on a Sunday evening. Bought 'By the river Piedra I sat down and wept' by Paulo Coelho from a road side bookseller. Actually, I had started reading 'Midnight's children' just the previous day. Anyway, decided to complete 'By the river ..' and started reading the same evening.

Big disappointment. Pages 50-67 were missing in the book. I was not in a mood (or state, I told I was looking for a doctor) to go and get the book replaced. Loss of these 17 pages didn't matter much as I continued reading. (Is there a philosophy hiding here?)

I finished it the next day. I had 'deja vu' feeling when I read the way the protagonists (both of them) think and act. I had thought the same thoughts and done similar things too. I am planning to do some of them in future. Many of us (I'm under no illusion that I have a great readership to this blog :-)) would feel the same, I think.

Whenever the word 'ridiculous' was used in the novel, I couldn't resist remembering one of my previous posts.

I tend to agree with Paulo when he talks about love. But not when he talks about faith or God or destiny. Not in a mood to discuss about this more, now. Will be back, for sure.

To close, one statement from 'Midnight's children'. (not in exact words)
"You turned your back on us, and now claim that we are behind you"

Good one, isn't it?

What he said, groping

Taking off glasses
estranges places,
reduces literacy
to the largest print.
Lights loom, dead
oranges in a fog.
Faces move
under water.
You no longer see
eye to eye.

A hand wrapped in a glove
can no longer pick
a dime off the floor,
or a carrot-red
hair. Or thread
a needle. Or feel the fuzz
on a peach
or a familiar cheek.
You see, smell, hear
what you cannot touch.

That drug
for the racing pulse
puts sleep
into walking,
moves the sidewalk
far away and slow
under someone else's
feet. All day it's late
afternoon and 3:20
always in the radium dark.

Loving someone
not in love
is to lose one's glasses
underfoot without a language
in a village
fair, to wake up without fingers,
to drug the heart
and slow down a world.

- A. K. Ramanujan
From 'Collected Poems'

makes sense...

RIDICULOUS

I was going to tell and I felt ridiculous, I promise. Is this something that is to be told? Felt, isn't it? The very fact that it needs to be told indicated what was in store for me. But, one has to do many things even after knowing that the result is not going to be favourable. Waging a losing battle. There is no other choice; as I told earlier, there is no looking back. Go along the way. Don't retreat and regret later. Get killed and rest convinced.

So, I was going to tell and I felt ridiculous. I was telling and I felt ridiculous. I told and heard 'Ridiculous!'.

Killed and convinced.

'ini ennaip puthiya uyiraakki, mathithannai mihath theLivu seyvaay' (mahakavi Bharathi)

IS THERE A WAY OUT?

I had gone to one of my relatives' house on Saturday. After lunch, I was alone watching TV. K.Vishwanath's 'Sippikkul muthu' was being telecast in RAJ TV. I could watch only half of the movie as I had to leave from there.

Watching the movie made me cry. It's not just 'tears-in-my-eyes' stuff; I was literally crying. It was not for Kamal's character in the movie or the hardships faced by Radhika as young widow. Being selfish as I am, I can only cry for myself. I cried for my lost innocence. I cried, detesting all the knowledge i have gained; all the calculations my mind can do in a second; all the books I have read; all the things that this world has taught me; all the things that I have willingly learnt.

Worst of all is, I cannot decide to be innocent. There is no looking back, is there?

Humanness and the Self

There was a review for 'The Prophet' (Kahlil Gibran) in Metro Plus, a few days back. I don't remember who had reviewed though. The reviewer had mentioned about two more writers in the review. Below are the excerpts from the review.
"Gibran, Rumi and Rilke make a little bridge outwards from the cocoon of self-reliance and self-help that we seem doomed to weave around ourselves".
"Reading them, you can feel how the pain of suffering your humanness is the mystical journey most near you, the most accessible".

This interests me, as I wonder if I am in a self made cocoon. At the same time, I wonder if I have already crossed those bridges only to reach this cocoon. I have read 'The Prophet' and I liked it very much then. Probably I have to re-read it and try to get Rumi and Rilke too.

CHANGE / EVOLUTION ?

I went to a book shop (Prism) in Jayanagar on Sunday. To my surprise, I went to fiction first and then to Philosophy section. This is the first ever time I have done this, while buying English books. With Tamil, this happened a year back, approxmately.

So, I have come to fiction from Philosophy, I believe. Two years back, when I bought 'Total Freedom' by JK, I felt like a drug addict who consumes more drug though he wants to get rid of it badly. I dread if there would be a day in which I would find that all my thoughts were taken from some book I read. That's a nightmare.

But, till today, I am buying and reading more and more.

Midnight's Children (Rushdie), Collected Poems(AK Ramanujan), Commentaries on Living Second Series, Third Series (JK).

Shop owner gave me 10% discount, when I didn't ask for any. I had fought with this old man once before and my last punch line was 'You know what, you just lost a customer'. As usual, I find it meaningless now.

And, I didn't buy clothes, though I had gone to Jayanagar for buying me some shirts. All the shops are crowded and those lights and crowd put me off. I will buy when I really very badly need them. This morning I had to cut the hanging threads from the bottom of my pant and the shirt has worn out in its collar, it is torn too. I can manage for some more time?

AFTERTHOUGHT

My previous post...
I realize it is not that easy to say 'Good Bye!'.

As I do all these, I see that there is something inside me that looks at and smiles at me. It is that 'something' that keeps me awake and alive and safe from going insane. But, how different that 'thing' can be from me? It's me, again, isn't it? I am just a collection of these various 'things'. So, drama goes on. But deep inside, I feel, it's really difficult to say 'Good bye'. If one expects me to say that it is impossible, I'm sorry. If one says that one can't say 'Goodbye' if his love is true, then I doubt if I will ever live to see that 'true' love in me. If I am going to cause more pain than anything else to that person, if that person shows clearly that she is not at all interested in me, what else is the way?

My habit of questioning and analysing everything, including my emotions, might well be an obstacle to someone to come closer to me. And, this is what has made me keep a distance from everyone and everything. A happy-go-lucky, little emotional and a little sensible person may be a lot more fun to be with, I agree. I am not at all fun. I live with questions.

I am not at all worried if someone who knows me reads this and enquires me about all this. I am really surprised at me for this! I can face the whole world and tell 'yes!', even if 'good bye' is all what I'm going to hear/say at the end of all this.

It feels like I am in control with my life. I want to be accountable for everything I do. Am I trying to prove that I am not worried about my well-wishers' opinions? Probably yes. Again, that 'thing' in me starts laughing at me now. I can't be angry to him. He might have a point.

WHAT WE HAVE?

I can't get to see,
however hard I think,
what am I to you now?
Will I ever know?

What you have for me,
Is it irritation?
Or a heart of hatred,
or just indifference!?

I know it's not love!
I know it can't be love!

I know my heart well,
It won't ever back out.
Nothing can erase
in my heart your face!

It will be in my shell,
that I never will reveal,
for I know you know too,
but you chose not to face.

But, you know it is love!
Dear, you know it is love!

Don't give me no reason
you might have lots of 'em.
How can it matter to me,
what they are, let them be!

This is our station,
where I know you part me.
With you take these words
just to laught at or hate me.

Just to laugh at or hate me!
Just you laugh at or hate me!

I bid you good bye here
'tis bad I can't go back
and start all over again
not to give you a single hint!

Don't wanna be near
I'll go far and find my life
But love's what I have for you!
never impured by words of mine!

But, love's what I have for you!
Yeah, love's what I'll have for you!

Peanut Candy

While going home from office last night, I bought vegetables and milk for preparing supper. Walking towards home, I saw the small shop on the opposite street, where we usually buy pickle sachets. With the change that remains, I used to buy peanut candy. We had enough stock of pickle at home. But, I thought of buying it, so that I can buy peanut candy too. When I checked my purse, I had just a single one rupee coin and then Rs50 notes.

So, I have to buy peanut candy alone. How can I do that, being a 26 years old, going to a shop just to buy one peanut candy? No. I decided against that and started walking my way. But, how can this silly inhibition stop me from having what I want?

I walked back towards that shop. There were three inside the shop (two men and a woman), talking to a man who was standing outside the shop. I went and put the coin and asked for a candy. Before I know, my face prepared itself to wear an apologetic smile, as if to apologize for being so childish. (Why is it that I was going to smile at the woman alone. Is it only a woman's opinion about me I'm concerned about?) No, I ordered myself not to smile. Taking that candy in hand, I walked home.

Now, don't believe even if I say that the candy was tastier than it had ever been. It's just the same.

P.S: Oh, what a revolution? Do I talk in the same tone one would talk in, when one says about having gone to an er... whorehouse, without worrying about his prestige etc?