No one can escape from fate, from their deeds, from karma.
The last episode 'The Getaway' of Dexter left me in state of unsettlement. Rita, in a pool of blood, right when everythings seemed to be over, was the stoke of a master storyteller. It left a emotional disrupt in the flow, a sudden 'Oh No', something i could hold onto for a while more than if it had been a plain happy ending.
When Dexter killed Trinity, it seemed too mild to be the climax of the last episode of a happening season. The final scene explained it all. Can't wait for Dexter to back in the next season with revenge in his mind. Its a pity though he has already killed Trinity.
Few stories are written well enough to make the reader empathize with the characters. Kite Runner is one of those.
The beauty of Kite Runner lies in the rendering of its characters, detailed finely and realistically. Amir is the character in transformation with whom the story moves, at times representing human weaknesses, of jealousy and cowardice and at others valor and compassion. He justifies the thought that 'Some transformations happen in minutes, and others take a lifetime'. Hassan on the other hand is the undercurrent in the story's flow, that bringd it the tension and depth. He represents loyalty and maturity, with a very straight and simple outlook to life.
Amir wallowed for a lifetime, in his own guilt of not being courageous enough to stop Hassan from being savaged. This was a story of Amir's journey to finally learning to stand up for those he cared about.
For me the best moment of kite runner came towards the end when Amir runs after the kite to get it for Hassan's son Shohrab and turns back to say, "for you a thousand times over".
Sarah Jessica Parker just earned a new fan. She has a uniquely cute smile, an innocent look and a disarming french'ed accent where she at time rolls her tongue. While the rest of the cast of 'Sex and the city' doesn't make such a connection, Sarah's character just makes me fall in love with it. Confused and naughty at times, thoughtful, pensive at others and a New Yorker to the core. The back to back episodes of the serial portray New York in a very 'happening' light, with Sarah's character defining the city as her love interest. Guess I'll now make a conscious effort to fulfill the thought of visiting New York in January.
So what are you gonna do the rest of the day? and Sarah says "Who knows, it's New York".
Let me put in a disclaimer here, I have only seen 2 episodes of the serial till now.
Talking of serials, Dexter keeps me gripped and looking forward to watching TV on Sunday evenings. Dexter Morgan played by Michael Hall is a layered character which is a contortion of brutality, innocence, intelligence, compassion and disconnect all at once. The serial is one of the best i have come across after 'Prison Break'. But while Michael Scofield played by Wentworth Miller was very Supermanish in actions and intelligence, Dexter Morgan still feels human.
On the onset, one thing that struck me as common between Dexter and Sex and the City was that both the serials have a background narrative in the voice of the main protagonist, which helps in driving the flow and emotion to the user powerfully.
Watching a scene from the Clint Eastwood movie 'good bad and ugly' reminded me that bread was not always sold cut out in slices at shops. It reminded of me of the 'bread wallah' who used to come every morning at my Nana's house. He used to take a loaf of bread out of his box on his cycle and slice in front of our eyes, with deft ease, moving his razor sharp knife like an experienced chef cuts his onions. The characteristic horn or 'bhonpoo' on his cycle was a early morning wake up call for me. Well, when at my nana's place I had the privilege of waking up at my own sweet discretion. And even though my nana made sure the rest of the house was on its knees early in the morning, he let me back to sleep after a mild wake up call.
Now that i mentioned the 'bread wallah' how could the 'pani puri wallah' be far behind. He used to come to our street or 'gullee' in the evenings. His characteristic sound was the one he made by beating his ladle onto his huge circular pan. 'tan tan .. paani puri ... tan tan ... aloo chaat .. tan tan .. tan tan'. He used to push his cart around. The cart was painted piece of street side art, with 'Pani Puri, Aloo Chart' written in white paint on an orange background and a stock of 'batashas' piled up along side the the big pan which had tikkis being fried upon. Eating 'pani puri' is one of the most pleasurable things that happened during the course of a day. Standing in a semi circle besides the 'pani puri wallah', waiting for our turn as he quickly went in the rhythmic process of cracking the 'batasha', filling it with water and serving it into the 'katoris' of his clientele. And mind you this was a very quick process, and by the time you had just got over taking a breadth after taking in the globe filled with the choicest spices, you would be en thrust upon the next one to finish off. And the best batashas had in them the ingredients to light up the senses and with it your evenings.
If one comes to think of it there is so much to think about. So many things in the world can intrigue a human mind if it sits long enough to notice. The world is such a place that there is always something to discover for those who want to discover and enough mundanes for those who which to embrace monotonicity.
How to break your routine, how to feel happy, how to feel you are living.
The key I think is rediscover childhood. To rediscover innocence. To leave behind the perceptions that we have created over time. To forgo our image. To forgo our habits. To be right there in that moment living it for all its worth.
The human mind is an amazing masterpiece. It can expand its horizon to amazing extents, and is just hindered by the boundaries that it creates for itself. and where do these boundaries come from, the past, the environment. BELIEF is the single most important ingredient that can fuel a mind to its limitless expansion.
So the first step to being anything, including being happy, is to start believing in its possibility not just in the present context of things but in a context that you can create for yourself in the future.
There is something about travelling in the train; wherever I may be going it always gives the feeling of going back home. For me train travel is about the time I spend standing at the doors of the moving train, feeling the gush of winds on my face, the moments I spend befriending kids, playing rock-scissors-paper, the stories that I hear from old people of ‘How the times have changed’ and the buzz at the stations each one presenting a unique cuisine to chose from. Not for the easily irritated, a journey in the second class compartment of the India Railways is a must do for anyone who wishes to feel India in its elements. A one and a half to two days journey from south India to the north or from east to west is a perfect place for ‘Discovery India’.
As soon as you board a train you can see a new ecosystem randomly unfolds itself right in front of your eyes. The journey begins with passengers haggling with coolies over small amounts; the farewell goodbyes from the near and dear ones, if lucky, you might even catch a glimpse of a few tear drops; young people touching the feet of their elders and the elders in return giving some pocket money to the young ones, some of whom refuse to take it, other offer their pocket after a little pestering and still other unashamed to put their hand forth, assuming that money to be their birth right. Slowly as the train leaves the station people start adjusting to the new environments. A few hours down the line it would be tough to distinguish who are family and who are strangers. Generally everyone is bonhomie, exchanging initial introduction and then jumping in to join in a round of cards ‘teen patti’, discuss the latest policies of the government, sharing recipes, playing around with the kids. New friendships are happening all around.
The music in this ecosystem is added by the vendors and the beggars. The vendors sell everything they possibly can in those narrow alleys. ‘Kabuli channa lelo’, ‘Jhaal mudi wala’, ‘Pepsi Thumbs up Cola’, ‘chaiii coffeeee’, ‘nashtaa lunch dineer’ are some of the common shouts you get to hear continuously. Magazines, duplicate electronic items, keychains, toys and among the many things apart from food that is sold here. As for the beggars, there are two major categories. The ones that entertainer to get money, and who should not exactly be called beggars and the others who try to touch an emotional chord within you. The most song most sung by beggars in a north india that I have heard is “garibon ki suno wo tumhari sunega, tum ek paisa do wo das lakh dega”. And gods save you from an encounter with the Hijras. They are a species in themselves. Be ready with a change of 5-10 Rs if you don’t want to be on the receiving end of the abuses. Its always funny how they start. ‘arre mere shahrukh chal paise nikal’ or ‘aaye haai sallu, teri zulfe to bahut lehra rahi hain’. Whenever I heard any of them at a distance, which one generally does hearing the characteristic clap, I made sure I sneak into the toilets or the act sleeping in the top berth not waking up even on repeated shakes.
There is nothing in this place that won’t bewilder a first timer. There is so much to discover in every journey. This one goes out to all those who have stopped travelling by train off late or those who never did.
It so tought to choose a life partner, what do you look for in him.
You need to be an indian girl, an independant one to figure out the pains involved. Some of the questions that loom in the minds of these troubled ladies are such :
will he let me be independant
will he be understanding
will i have to bear his mother and family
will they stay with us
can i work after marriage
what happens if one of us get transferred to another location
when do we have children
does he have enuf money for us to live in prosperity
And when i came back home i had so many ways in which i could have responded to her. Why do people loose humility as they grow older, why is there so much hate. Just a simple act of 2 people playing cricket outside her home made her go mad, so mad that she didn't have the coutesy even requesting us to leave. Out she came like a bull behind a gate charging on seeing a red cloth, blah blah blah and more blah with the sound boom!! bang!! One thing did stick out "At this age how can you be playing cricket". Damn do i look so old or may be she was just too illogical to makes sense of things. Had she ever seen light moments in her life. Where did all that vengeance come from, that lady spitting venom made me feel out for her, she definitely was not happy with life.
Well maybe she was just too worried about the Rangoli outside her gate. But whatever the case, humility and requesting are abilitites that any person can do with.
We quitely walked away without uttering a word, her illogical remarks made it dificult for me to even start a conversation.
Getting back home I felt happy and sad at the same time. For once the incident reminded me of the times when we were kids and there were these aunties who used to scold us for playing cricket. But sad that such people exist in education home like hers with her house proudly proclaiming her husband to be an IIM B graduate. I atleast hope he has some humility, i seriously do hope.
2:30 at night on friday, I got this sudden urge to visit my relatives in Almora by bike (410 kms from Delhi) and unbelievable as it may it would sound it just required 15 mins of planning.
The only thing that was to be overcome was the thought of "What if something happens". Once this was overcome and the skeptical attitude chaged to one of 'Let's do it', then there was no thinking but just the goal. My first real long distance bike trip, alone apart from it being the first time i was going to try to ride on a hilly terrain. I was sure that this excitement in itself was fuel enough to take me a long way.
At 3:15 with a few clothes in my bag I and around 600 bucks in my purse I was ready to hit the road. Had a look at the route in google and figured out it was atleast a 10 hr journey. I woke up the guest house attendant, told him i was headed towards Almora, not sure how far i'll be able to make it but inform the same to anyt one who calls for me.
It was pitch dark and the moonlight added to the charm of the trip. Empty roads gave me the licence to hit the speeds i wished to, and in no time had i crossed Ghaziabad. It was time for the first Tea break. The best part about journeys is the eating at dhabas and drinking Tea at various chai wallas, making trivial conversation with strangers and giving lifts to anyone and everyone who asks for it. A tea and an oily bread ommlette down my stomach I was ready to move on.
Nearby Ghaziabad I found my first pillion rider somewhere in the middle of the highway. It was strange at first, with me recollecting all the Ghost stories i had heard about, checking my purse again and again, and looking into the rear mirror to check if the person was still sitting :D. Few minutes into the situation and after asking a lot of question to man, I was able to get back my confidence and by the it was time to guy to say good bye.
Having not slept the night I think I sleep rode thruogh most of the journey from there till somewhere near moradabad. Finally unable to keep myself awake any longer I went to sleep in a charpai at highway dhabha. Half an hour of sleep, 2 glasses of tea and a fan (a kind of patties) made me feel ready to move on. This was around 9 in the morning.
Met this italian hippi, in a tattred undershirt and pink pyjamas near kainchi dham. He was trying to find a address where a japanese guy had told him that there was gonna be a hippi get together. Well for a moment I felt i should go with him to this place but alas sense prevailed over me ;)
. . . . to be completed . . . .
On the way back:
With no protection i felt I could just freeze to death unless the sun god decided to have some mercy and show itself soon enough.
One of the techniques i found very useful on my way downhill was to follow a truck at a safe distance. This makes sure that the path ahead is already cleared for you.
I decided to make it fast and not stop at a lot of places on the way back.
One of most striking places was the sight of the 'Bhim Tal' fron a distance, surrounding by mountains.
My fisrt stop was the same dhaba near Bhimtal where I had stopped on the way up.
The stretch from Haldwani to Rudrapur whith forest on both sides of the road was a absolute pleasure to ride through.
- [self] Man's last successful desire - Free me of all desires
- creativity at the times of frustration and despair bring out the best of the poet in me
- [self] Never overestimate the continuity of the past and never underestimate the randomness of the future
- [self] Aint it simple, you can only BE ..... by Being
- The only thing u'll ever regret is denying who you really are
- Lock up ur heart but keep the key within reach
- [self] some like it dreamy
some like it real
and some just sleep dreamless
- [self] the romance might have died but the love you once showered lives on
-Frank Gilbreth, one of the pioneers of industrial psychology discovered that you could cut the time it took to shave if you used two razors at once—but then abandoned the idea when he found that it took an additional two minutes to bandage the resulting wounds.
