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Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Thoughts. Show all posts
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Just Go On?
Standing in the midst of this rat race of ours, the rats never seem to get enough of running around. The increasing pace with which the rats are on the move, it would make their ancestors at the Karni Mata Temple proud to the point of indifference.
The young ones always seem to be running to and fro from coaching classes, the students are perpetually on the move to increase that one mark & add that extra point on their CV's while the working class is on a voluntary session of their own personal hamster wheels.
Sometimes I wonder, when do they all sleep?
I know they don't holiday. I see everyone, everyday.
The average cut off for every college keeps rising everyday, getting a job after a degree seems a lost cause with impressive resumes on every alternate lap and the AC buses are perpetually crowded with professionals crawling back home.
And boy, do they enjoy their life. Don't try to defend them, I saw them celebrating. I know what I saw.
I saw them sleeping off on their books with a pencil in hand, I saw them dozing off in lectures, and I definitely saw them catching a power nap during lunch. It all looked quite joyous.
After all this joyous celebration, they have the audacity to come up to me and complain about how they aren't happy, about how they'd rather be doing a different job, living a different life.
This isn't going to be yet another post saying - Be different. Quit your job. Paint. Yada. Yada. This is just a thought I had today.
As long as we live in a wonderful country as ours, as long as we continue succumbing to the badly built social structure, and as long as we have that rude hand wake us up at the last stop on the train, this lifestyle might never end. And that thought scares me a little.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Of history, our times and kaju feni.
I was lucky enough to catch a talk by Ramachandra Guha the day before.
Worship them or hate them, but you've got to love the IIT guys for giving us non JEE crowd the opportunity to watch such greats speak 10 feet before you, at MoodI.
The first time I had heard of him, was from one of my seniors. He wouldn't stop gushing about how brilliant 'India after Gandhi' was. Which is when I read upon his work, and was absolutely blown away.
The second time I happened to stumble upon his name with the help of this post. I remember spending an entire evening on the Ray and Keshavan website, and admiring the brilliance of his brand designer wife, Sujata Keshavan.
Coming back to yesterday.
I remembered the rush for registration before Harsha Bhogle's talk at MoodI last year. So I was worried I might not be able to get a chance to hear the man speak if things go horribly wrong.
Fortunately or unfortunately, there was no rush for registration. And when the time arrived, the FC Kohli auditorium was only 60% occupied when Ramachandra Guha strode in a casual blazer.
He took no time in absolutely charming the crowd. He opened with a few quirky statements about how his relationship with MoodI was close intertwined with kaju feni.
The man then wasted no time in speaking about his book. He spoke about Mahatma Gandhi, he spoke of Nehru. He spoke of the pre and post Independence thinkers of India, the 'makers of modern India'. This was the first time I heard a historian speak, and to be honest, I was speechless.
I was in complete awe of this mans sheer knowledge, his intellectual honesty, his fluency with the words he used. Fluency to the extent that any line picked out from today's talk could've been easily quoted and printed at the back of some book. (To pick out an instance, I particularly loved this line he spoke. About how it's come to a stage where "India is governed by people with power but no authority, along with people with authority but no power". This was in reference to Sonia Gandhi and Manmohan Singh respectively :P ) But more on that, another day.
During his interactive session, he read an excerpt of his latest book, which included a quote by B.R Ambedkar.
"In India, 'Bhakti' or what may be called the path of devotion or hero-worship plays a part in politics unequalled in magnitude by the part it plays in the politics of any other of the world. 'Bhakti' in religion may be a road to salvation of the soul. But in politics, 'Bhakti' or hero-worship is a sure road to degradation and to eventual dictatorship."
This is what this man said in his last speech to the Constituent Assembly.
Just this one quote gives us an idea about the quality of thinkers in India up until 30 years back.
With this one quote, not only did this man establish what would later be a fundamental reality in current day politics, but he also very cleverly managed to answer the question before the question was even stated.
But sadly enough, most people in this country don't even know this statement of his. Let alone, remember it. Forget understand the brilliance in the subtlety of it all.
I cant really speak for my parents generation. Neither have I lived through the Naxal movement, nor have I faced the Indira Gandhi tenure at the parliament. They might have some valid reasons, but what is our reason for not being aware? For not trying to be aware? For not caring? For not pushing the envelope a bit further?
We elect youth icons, and forget about them in 2 months.
We bad mouth the system, and then we forget to do our bit in the selfish pursuit of a career.
It's stupid to live in the hope of a person to come and transform a democratic nation really. But it's not that stupid to live in the hope of a generation who just might transform a democratic nation a bit by bit, by transforming itself at the basic level, by creating and taking that middle path.
I read Mark Lilla once write that, "In our politics, history doesn’t happen when a leader makes an argument, or even strikes a pose. It happens when he strikes a chord."
Luckily,we have people who are doing, and acting.
What we need now,are some thinkers to keep us inspired, to keep us acting, to strike a chord.
Where are the current thinkers of Modern India, you say?
They are being recruited by Facebook for an inhuman pay package.
Monday, July 05, 2010
Another story by the Ghats
It never filled him with remorse, or anger, when he saw him work all day long to earn such nominal pays. To be very honest, he didn't even like him too much.
He was a bit too much of a hypocrite in his eyes. He saw his father sing out praises about the deity's magical powers, and how she made your wish come true if you pleased her with special puja baskets; while in fact he was, but , an atheist.
At times , he felt ashamed to be living under the same roof as a liar. Somewhere down the line, it had inculcated in him this innate urge, to find a place of his own. Somewhere far away from the place where he had spent every waking moment of his entire childhood.
And then there was his mother. Since as long as he could remember, he had always walked into his hut to see his mother cooking, or cleaning their small abode, in silent suffering. He couldn't help but feel sad and disgusted at the same time. After all, she didn't have the right to suffer if she had never worked against it, did she?
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As me and my father, cautiously made our way down the mossy steps in rolled up chudidaar and jeans, and an empty bottle in each hand; he came up to us midway up the stairs.
"Can I help you with those bottles?"
"How far will you go?" , enquires my dad.
"I'll go up till the middle of the river"
My dad looks convinced, and hands him both the bottles.
"What's your name boy?", my father asks him as we three slowly make our way down.
"Lalu"
"Like Lalu Prasad Yadav eh?", my dad tries to joke.
He doesn't look amused, no crinkle of a smile even.
We continue our trudge downstairs.
I interrupt the silence, "How old are you?"
"15"
"You go to school?"
"Yes. I will be giving my 10th exams this year."
"Oh. Good good"
He barely listens to my reply as he jumps into the cold river.
I soak my feet in peacefully, and splash a few drops on my head. I look out at the magnificent river, to find him out at the middle of the river taking deep breaths and diving inside with two bottles in his hand.
By this point of time, a number of kids are surrounding me with big smiles on their faces as they continue floating in the river, asking me if I need help. I tell them I'm waiting for Lalu. They all go back to their ways.
That scrawny 15 year old returns, shivering out of the river. He was wearing nothing but a pair of shorts in the gloomy weather.
He hands me the 2 bottles.
"When did you learn to swim?"
"I knew it since I was a kid. Since I was 4 maybe."
"So since when have you been doing this then?", trying to inquire further as I hand him a ten rupee note.
"Since I learnt to swim."
And he walked away to help a few more people, without giving us a second glance.
I met Lalu by the banks of Ganga, that day.
And something about him, stuck a different chord in me.
And why wouldn't it?
After all, what do I know of hunger?
Sunday, June 06, 2010
Somewhere over the rainbow
Subtlety is such a lost art. Things have become so upfront and forthright, all poetic aspect of things have been almost completely lost.
I'd love to live in the 50's again.
Times when the very peaceful tip of the hat was replied with a subtle smile, when the hand at the small of the back led the woman through the dance floor , when a lingering look was all you needed to send someone in a tizzy.
There's some unexplainable magic to it all.The mystery, the build up, the silent understanding.
We've gotten into this ridiculous habit of making a huge hue and cry about every step of every action in our lives. We have this incessant need to take photo's every 4 weeks and upload them on networking sites. We've come to a point where it seems acceptable and cool to just walk up to someone and just say "Hey baby. I think you're hot. Wanna go out for coffee?". Even when girls do their entire loud cry and huge hug thing, even if they've just met after 3 hours, it's a little depressing.
It's all so direct, so loud. It's gotten to the point where it is a little painful to the eye. Like watching someone wear a hot pink dress all day long.
That's why it's somehow always nice to just sit with certain people, in complete silence. Or have a conversation filled with subtle puns. Or even cast a lingering look once or twice and watch it being acknowledged.
That's why I love watching the classics. Subtleness was the pivotal aspect of their acting skills. Like last scene of Roman Holiday , when Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck have their last cryptic conversation amongst the crowd. Or the way Ingrid Berman and Humphrey Bogart act around each other when they run into each other in Casablanca.
It was all so subtle, so peaceful. Everyone was secure in their own threshold.
And no one ever got poked around. Ever. :P
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Now Listening to : 'Half of my heart' by John Mayer.
Now Feeling : A little sleep deprived.
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Let it be
Thinking is overrated.
The prospect of contemplating is highly abused.
Feel like my soul has turned into steel
I've still got the scars that the sun didn't heal
There's not even room enough to be anywhere
It's not dark yet, but it's getting there"
Sometimes just being blank, silence - gives you the answers for it all.
"Shadows are falling and I've been here all day
It's too hot to sleep and time is running awayFeel like my soul has turned into steel
I've still got the scars that the sun didn't heal
There's not even room enough to be anywhere
It's not dark yet, but it's getting there"
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