Whither do we go..

Carrying all that baggage.. and moving on..

2011-07-31T10:20:00.000-07:00

Was my last day at my apartment in kakkanad. My roommates were already gone.., and i had my stuff to pack and set off early next morning with a train to catch at 9:40 am.
Though I had stayed at apartments in different places and shifted numerous times, this time I was the one who was left behind. In all other places, I had my roommates to help me with the packing.., and to give me farewells and share a hug.. I was kept busy with talking and planning and action.. Now, I had an entire night to myself with a yawning hall.. void of the TV, shoe rack and all the familiar furniture.

I had time to do the packing and a lot of time to think. Our walls are painted with the pale shade of apple green, but it was the first time I noticed the brighter fern green trimmed wall edges after having lived in it for almost 2 yrs. I had always ranted about the apartment..,starting from the low-quality electric wiring done bcoz of which we had numerous short circuit instances.. Once it ruined a handy electric lamp given to be by my thoughtful aunt who knew my late-night reading habits. Then there was the rat problem.., from the fear of which I always kept my room door closed. There were so many many things about the apartment that I cribbed about.

But here I was feeling heavy-hearted.. running my hand over the bare walls of my room. I realized I had been happy in that apartment.. it was my home away from home. All along when I consciously ranted about its problems, subconsciously I was enjoying my moments there.. And now I was leaving.., undecided as to where I would be shifting to when I get back to ernakulam after a 1-week home visit.

And there lay my table with an assortment of my worldly possessions.. a small wooden jack-in-a-box thing I got from Delhi on a family trip, a Calvin & Hobbes gifted by an old friend, a painting of Calvin & Hobbes done by an old colleague when she got to know how much I enjoyed the comic strip.. This painting was stuck on my wall to cheer me up when I wake up in the morning.. and which now lay as a roll of paper after i detached it from the wall...Then a cheap plastic pink ball at the end of a string that lights up when u fling it around.., which I had got from the beach.. A lavender Tupperware tall glass which had some urukku velichenna prepared for me by my mom.. I had already shifted most of my stuff in periodical home visits done earlier.. Now with the remaining stuff, I had a tough time sorting out what things to leave behind and what to carry with me.. And as I sifted through it all.., I realized there was not a thing I could lay aside. Everything meant something.., every object had memories attached..

I dint get to sleep that night.. packing away.. resting.. thinking.. and packing away.. The next day I rolled out on an autorickshaw.. Every memory was taken care of, safe in my baggage.. weighing me down but safe and cherished.

...all those crazy whims..

2011-07-15T04:53:00.000-07:00

Walking up the CSEZ campus road to my office, i pass a favorite walkway shadowed by comforting greens. The wind tugs at my umbrella ever so gently.. and it feels as though my wings are struggling to unfold itself and that I am about to fly. Humming the "Time in a bottle"song.. I get this funny idea that if I could just be invisible and whirl around on my feet.. it would complete that magical moment..

And it set me thinking on all those whimsical funny dreams I have nurtured over the years...

Like going to my first day of college, riding a horse boldly..., parking it proudly next to the lifeless lines of cars and scooters.. I would climb down the roof of white ambassador car parked conveniently next to my horse.. and with my head held high.. I would alight.... an instant hero :D That was me at 18.

While living in Chennai Adayar... in the Kasturibhai Nagar Road.. right opposite to the Gandhi Nagar rode where you had the Odyssey gift shop, Naidu hall, Kumarakom restaurant, Food world... Both these roads were situated on the sides of service roads parallel to the very busy main roads. We crossed the road countless times.., for an occasional dinner or lunch at the Kumarakom restaurant.., for an occasional kajal-sunscreen shopping at the Nadu Hall, or for the all-so-frequent grocery shopping.. Many a times.., when the signal for the pedestrians waiting at the zebra crossing goes green.., and a lot many impatient bright headlights on both sides of the road wait.., I have had the insane wish to royally do a dappaankoothu right there... or maybe stretch a bit, yawn and with all the airs of a queen.., luxuriously stride across the zebra crossing. That was me at 23.

Ofcourse its not all crazy whims..., there are so many things I want to do earnestly... before I die. From horse riding.. to wanting to climb a tree.. Places I want to visit.., gorgeous plans I want to live out with my family... And yet my crazy whims are also a part of it somehow... I mean.., none of it has really died down.. It lingers in my mind.. with a bit of wistfulness.

There is no way I would have rode a horse to the college campus.. or I would never muster enough insanity to fool around on a zebra crossing. But well, I am determined to do a whirl in the CSEZ campus.... maybe at 1 revolution per 3 minutes speed.... doesnt matter. The great thing is to try and have a "yippeee.. I did it" feel :D

Fears Hopes, Rambles and Crackles.. :)

2011-04-27T11:35:00.000-07:00

Dry leaves crackled beneath my thoughtless feet. The crackle rippled through the stillness, echoing a surprised protest of having been stirred out of the blue and of having been stepped upon, without so much as a "by-your-leave".

Out in the dawn. The dawn I want my father's troubled eyes to see... always.
After every sunset, there is still this beautiful sunrise... this fresh morning air.., the crisp newspaper with stale sensational and distorted news.., the cup of warm tea for those who love it.., the simple sounds and bustle of every day life.
Ramble about, absorb the sights and sounds that you love, let the sights soak in..., and heal..

I still trample on these dry leaves on the unswept garden grounds.., hoping you would come along and join me...
God forbid, but should your eyes ever blur, we shall be the eyes that narrate to you the shade of the sky.., the crisp uniforms of kids going to their new year of school.., bunches and bunches of mangoes big and small, heavily bearing down from the tree..

And if none of us remains, there is still this crackling of the dried leaves.

Something Memorable

2011-04-10T19:36:00.000-07:00

A rain-soaked paddy field reflecting the blue-grey shades of d dusk...a flock of storks slowly alighting from the fields, and gracefully ascending towards the horizon directly into a swarm of crows flying homeward, almost disrupting it..but still it danced about in black and white swirls merging here, seperating there..forming a living pattern of flight, wings..all set against a silver-lined cloud-laded dusky sky...A sight I was lucky enough to see n enjoy on my train trip towards home :) The sort of sight that makes a poet out of a man.I couldnt help but salute the artist sublime... the God of small,big and all things :)

Elusive Dreams

2011-03-30T12:07:00.000-07:00

Magical..silvery..teasing dreams that always disappear at an arm's length as we chase it.
Life seems to be an accumulation of dreams that never came true... still, we dream on.. without loosing the zest for life.
Is it courage? Is it tomfoolery? Is it merely a habit? A promise of brighter tomorrow? Or a pretense for survival? :-)

Whatever it is.., lead us on.
Teach us to dream big, think bigger and live like legends.

Use your judgment

2011-03-07T10:18:00.000-08:00

Probably the best advice you will hear in life is this - "Use your judgment".
You have the ability to rationalize.. use it well.

And have confidence in your own self.
Confidence that your judgment too carries solid sense... after you have given enough thought to it.
Confidence that your judgment too is reliable and worth something.

This is something I read recently and it made sense to me -
When in doubt, toss a coin. Not bcoz the tossing coin has any special effect.
But while the coin flips, you desperately hope for one option and thats your solution.

The answer already lies within us.
All you have to do is - use your judgment. :)

On a warm sunday noon..

2011-01-10T09:43:00.000-08:00

A warm Sunday noon.
The kind of day, when you laze about too much and feel drowsy.
So bored that you would do anything...
And so, I went to the kitchen and helped out in peeling and chopping stuff.
Chop-chop-chop down rolled the heads of proud Chillies, diced onions and garlic to the leisurely rhythm we set...
Infact, I even tried competing with the practiced hand of our house-help and failed abominably...

In the midst of the laughter caused by my amateur effort, out of an impulse I asked my mom to give me a hair oil massage.. something that she has done from my childhood.. but this time, I demanded it as the just reward for my toil.
The typical way that she went about it... the liberal pouring of the oil down the center of my head.. the cooling effect.. and more than anything else, the warmth that only a mother's touch can give and the feeling of normalcy and relaxation from a most familiar routine...

As always,when she winded it up with the finishing touch of tying my hair into a funny bun, I sighed.. feeling adored and spoiled. Her hands were freshly washed and she was about to carry on with her chores, when again, without a second thought.. I grabbed her hand and made her sit on the chair.

She laughed and said something about chores and stuff.. but has she ever had a choice? So, meekly, she sat while I undid her hair.. her precious silver-touched hair and imitated the same routine that she had shown me for so many years... complete with the funny bun.
There were no words there.... and yet it was a powerful moment.

Its a beautiful thing to be petted and pampered by our parents at any age.
But dont let that deprive you from the joy of pampering them once in a while.
The people who you probably owe petting the most to, is your parents.
Pamper them.., adore them.., take them out.., love them.
Once in a while, tell them.. "sit down and relax... its my turn now"

Try it... it lights you up as nothing else does :)

To light that bulb

2010-10-07T09:46:00.000-07:00

Thanks to the weird electrical wiring in my apartment, there was a short circuit twice. And I've had to replace my light bulbs once in about every two months.

I've always wanted to be taller.. but I've never regretted my height as heartily as when I stand on my toes on the bed, stretching up and beyond my reach.. till my shoulders n neck begins to cramp.

Many a time, I laugh and tell God "couldnt You have made me just 2 inches taller"

Sometimes, after a day's work, when I try changing a bulb.. I loose my head and want to bang my fist on the wall..

I can never take a book out of the upper rack in a library without taking someone's help.., never hang on gracefully in a bus holding onto the ceiling-hugging hand-bar.., never look that elegant in a simple patiala, never tower down upon someone and look intimidating, never look down my nose upon someone i want to show contempt for :D

I never could do so many things, that so many many do, without the least effort.

U think I am kidding? There are times when I could howl over it :D

A simple bulb replace process that should have taken about 2 minutes for someone else, took me about 20 minutes.. when i tried, tried, tried and kept failing..

And why do people use rotten light shades anways and keep the bulbs close to the ceiling..

The world has no thought for us, the shorter inhabitants

Stretch-stretch-put the bulb in the holder- turn clockwise clockwise- try to pull off bulb- bulb doesnt come off, but leans in the holder at a 25-degree angle. Switch on the bulb. Doesnt light yet!!! Damn the bulb!

Again.. the whole process repeat... and somewhere, in the 15th-20th trial, lo and behold, the bulb lights n shows me the bright side of the world aka my room.

Suddenly, I feel 10 feet tall. Pity the 6 footers... they will never know that pride u feel when u light that bulb :D

Within their fortresses..

2010-09-24T09:17:00.001-07:00

I've seen the phenomenon of people walling themselves up unnecessarily in isolated fortresses.Have tried banging on it with all my might..and crying out to them saying"no.. u r hurting urself more.Please come out of that shell.We want you.You need us". Probably the layers of walls within the fortress distorts these cries into some imagined insults.. they crawl more and more into their fortress.. and we can only watch helplessly.

Why do people wall themselves alive?Cut themselves out of life? Out of the warmth of their own family and friends? Why do they imprison themselves in years of unbreakable silence? Even if you throw your soul against it, crying out piteously.. their self-imposed imprisonment renders them inaccessible, unfeeling and cold.

What a waste of a life... that could've smiled and caused others to smile.Say a cheering word and be cheered in turn.To love with an open disposition and an over-brimming heart, and to be loved in return.To part knowledge and perspectives through intelligent discourse, and be enlightened in return.

One can only ache away at the question. Why-why-why do people wall themselves in their stupid blasted fortresses??

Make it short!

2010-09-22T10:42:00.000-07:00

Short sentences are powerful.
It has the power to be curt n harsh.. when sprung upon you all of a sudden it could knock the wind out of you.
It could devastate you - break you down bit by bit...
It could heal you - and grow you a halo of warmth.

I believe in short sentences.After all,its the era of the tweets.

Invisible

2010-09-22T10:40:00.000-07:00

She stood - packing done, all set.. her eyes glued to the gate,eagerly waiting to get started.Yellow butterflies fluttered about.. n she drew images in her mind of three inexorable days...She would ride a horse,taste heated corn in the cold morning,take pictures.Maybe she would do nothing, but lay about and listen and watch people around..happy to be in company.. She resolved to live these days as her happiest.Finally they arrived..she happily called out to them.. But they dint hear her.. She waved.They dint see... They've learned the art to look through people..to ignore the pain of alive beating hearts... She had become invisible.

The Way I like it..

2010-07-02T10:55:00.000-07:00

I like my coffee warm... My orange drink chilled..
The smoothness of silk and the coarseness of white sand grains..
The green of trees and the blue of the oceans..
The ethereal clouds and the solidity of the earth..

Things r made deliberately different.
This way, you learn to value each attribute in its own place..
And they gradually become images entwined with self and a sense of normalcy..into the core of our mind...
And you wouldnt like them any other way..

I like laughter and value tears..
Incessant chatter and those moments of pure truthful silence..
Self discovery and yet like the feeling of being lost in the mass of humanity, the way a drop disappears into an ocean..
I like sensible insanity..

Contradictions, variety, opposing tastes... these are the elements which balances our natures.
Harmonizes us.. and lend an unpredictable zing to us.
Its like the splash of color that breaks monotony of a monochrome picture..
And you really wouldnt like them any other way.. :)

Simple Joys

2010-05-27T11:33:00.000-07:00

Happiness.. not deep, tranquil, "cup-filled-to-the-brim" happiness..
That sort of happiness is driven by some strongly personal meaningful cause..
Like for eg., my brother's marriage.. when I saw him happy..
Or.. the day I got a job... My first salary... Independence!!
And a lot many more beautiful happy moments to cherish..

But that wasnt what I meant by "simple joys"..
Its those small little little happenings that somehow surprisingly adds up to brighten your day.. and give you a special feeling.

Most days I walk to my office from my apartment.
When I walk into my office campus which houses lots of other companies and buildings and industries.. the security personnel at the gate smiles at me and says a friendly comment.. like being more careful about way I cross the road.
Then I walk on.. and I see the lift operator passing by in a bicycle.. He smiles at me and tells me "be careful when u get on the lift.. if it gets stuck, I am not around to get u out of it.." and chuckles and says he was kidding..
A few more steps, and I find the cab driver, driving past me, honking a horn and giving a friendly salutation..

By the time I reached office, I was feeling great inside..

I go into the office.. and the office-chechis show comical surprise "Sooooryaaa ethiyooo" and smile.. and I say something back and laugh..
At lunch,I sit with my witty lady colleagues and we barrage each other with "goals" and more "goals".. enjoying myself immensely..
And then finally in the evening, a colleague I used to sit near to in my earlier office building comes visiting.. She is someone I've always liked.. a lively, funny girl.. She is going home.. its her last day in office... She had come to bid farewell to everyone.. She came near me.. My manager was sitting on my desk, exploring something in my PC.. I extended my hand and beckoned her and she eyed the manager side-ways and said "ivideyo.. purathottu vaa"..
So I took leave for few mins and went out of the office door..
She was in a hurry.. and hurriedly told me a few things.. her future plans of higher studies.. when classes will start.. and so on. And hurriedly gave me a warm hug and left..

I was surprised.. and it left me happy.. :)

These little little moments r like gems scattered from Heaven to me..
Life is funny.., I know people change.. relationships change..
Good friends turn against one another...
Even family bonds could deteriorate during difficult phases.
There is nothing solid or unchangeable about anything.. people, circumstances, perceptions..
But the simple joys of routine life.. whenever they happen, embrace it with all your heart and be happy..
It is the simple joys that mostly see you through life...

Never under-estimate the power of a simple nod of acknowledgment.. a friendly salutation.. a smile. What it eventually tells someone is.. "Hi.. I know this is you.. and I am glad to see you around".. and probably that could be the happiest thing that person has come across, that whole day...

No wonder Islam says that a smile is a charity.. a kind word is a charity.. Its a good deed.. It makes u happy.. and eventually it could make someone's day.. like the way mine was made today :)

Thank you God!

My Heaven

2010-05-26T10:16:00.000-07:00

I have often learned of Heaven as being rich... full of greenery with the choiciest of trees..fruits.. flowers..
Enticing aroma of fresh fruits..all you've to do is to reach out ur hand.. and the branches magically lower themselves and u pluck off a fruit..and each bite of it just as delicious as the first..
I had thought of Heaven as full of streams that flow beneath your feet.. as you swing on some wild vine lying between trees.. and you remain enthralled by the beautiful peaceful gurgling sound of water..
There are a lot many images I associate to the term Heaven.. most importantly an eternal peaceful abode full of good, original people..

As life goes on, just as our perceptions about so many things change.. I suppose my idea of Heaven too has changed a bit..
Even today, I think of Heaven as something far more beautiful, peaceful, good.. than I am capable of imagining it to be..
But, today I think Heaven is a relative term.
For a poor child who has lived in a poor drab home with a curtain for a door.. maybe Heaven is a beautiful home with plush furniture.. richness,comfort.
For a person who was blind, Heaven could be colors... rich images.. beautiful scenery.
For a person who was deaf, Heaven could be the most beautiful touching music that cannot be conceived in the mind of a man..

I feel I know what my Heaven is.. if God would ever bless me with it.. inspite of my million follies.
My Heaven is where the cockles of my heart are warmed with complete acceptance, gratitude, love, laughter.. where I am at peace with myself.. where my Creator is not displeased with me. Where I know my loved ones are eternally safe and happy..
Wherever that be.. maybe 6 feet of earth.. maybe 1 fistful of soil.. that is my Heaven.

At the edge of an abyss

2010-05-20T08:32:00.000-07:00

I've wandered about
And through time
With something amiss..

I've skulked around shadows
Hoping to find a shade..
Weaving a mirage..

I've edged through these mists
Lost and blinded..
Tripping and bruising..

I've walked these forlorn paths
In the dying light of a dying day
My heart ablaze..

I've wandered about
And through time
With something amiss..
Now have I reached the edge of an abyss

In this desolate darkness
I quietly wait for God's Dawn
To steal upon me and light my way

My Brother's Wedding

2010-04-18T08:46:00.000-07:00

Just got back from my brother's wedding. Tired.. exhausted...after a long day.. stupidly and nonsensically chosen clothes that it was suicidal to wear in this killing heat... and running about.. managing short-tempers, flare-ups.. and facing several discomforts that happen when an organized event doesnt happen the way u chart it out to be (or when whatever planning was done turns out to be inadequate finally)..
I am dead tired! And I've a splitting headache!

But, b4 going to sleep,I want to capture this day in words.. something I can revert back to, in the near future..

1.My brother walking up the "aisle" - the passage from the entrance to the stage with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.. Looking handsome and happy..

2. The moment of prayer when we all prayed as a mass for happiness and blessings to befall him.. and i shut my eyes.. with an overwhelmed feeling in my heart.. of earnest prayer.

3. Seeing him stand on the stage and remembering old times when we were kids.. fighting with pillow, water, pen, pencil whatever u can think of..and knowing in my heart, the strength of the bond.

4. Hugging my new sister,and blurting out the words "Take care of my brother and guide him well"..all of a sudden.

5. Leaving him at the bride's house and waving away.. as we wheeled out of the house...

And now, hours later, I still see him walking up the aisle.. with a happy smile on his face.. And my prayers that his happiness remains eternal.Amen.

In the Circlet of Fire..

2010-03-09T11:56:00.000-08:00

In the heart of the forest
In the dead of the night...
In so stark a silence
That fills the heart with fright.

Come and you a strange sight behold..
The dance of the deer in the circlet of fire..
Come one, come all...
To see the strange dance
The dance of the deer in the circlet of fire..

The squirrel comes out of the hole.
The rabbit pops from the burrow
The bear and the tiger too arrive
And watch in unison, the wondrous sight..

Near the thick of the woods,
In the clearing of dried grass
A solitary deer..

Within the Circlet of Fire..

It sways forward and backward
And goes round and round
Never once does it stop..
In a strange ritualistic dance, it moves around

With the resounding music of crackling flames..
The dance of the deer in the circlet of fire..
Come one, come all...
To see the strange dance
The dance of the deer in the circlet of fire..

With time, ebbed the patience and the wonder
So arose and left, the spectators
And the deer danced alone
As the fire closed in, singeing into its very own skin

With the resounding music of crackling flames..
The dance of the deer in the circlet of fire..
None saw nor felt the thud of its heart
As it danced for its life..
The dance of the deer in the circlet of fire..

Back home..

2010-03-08T10:45:00.001-08:00

I have wandered back here yet again...
In the middle of the night.. all awake with nothing much to do..
After a long while, I come here to find my blogs preserved here... safe and sound..
I read some and smile at the momentary goofiness that would have prompted me to write some of them.. and well some other blogs that I must have written with a lot of conviction.. And the knowledge that, that conviction still lies within me... just as strongly. Some I read and I think "I wrote that?!!!".. I read the comments here, and feel part wonder that people have bothered to read what I write.. and gratitude for the encouragement that I have been fortunate enough to receive here.. through the kind words of friends and family.. Where would man be without some moral support or a pat the shoulder, especially during those tough when u tread through life with a heavy step and a burdened head..

What keeps driving me back here?
Maybe I am tired of routine life and come here wanting to write something that would create magic and make the world sit up and take notice and cry out "oh hail! Soorya... the magician of words"...
Or maybe I just want some time out.. writing away the thoughts that flit in and out of my mind at a surface layer.. so that I am free to pursue the thoughts that truly and really is me
Sometimes I come here bubbling with some funny tale.. sometimes with a disturbed soul.. and sometimes with a sobered quietened mind..

No matter where I go, no matter how many new pple I meet and talk my head out to, about all the little nothings.. and laugh and what-nots.. this is one place where I dont have to take the effort to please.. or to make someone comfortable.. or try and be comfortable myself.

The crux of the matter is,whatever the reason that finally drags me back right here, I feel I am home :)

A timeless moment

2009-04-25T00:33:00.001-07:00

I had gone on a trip recently with my family.. to Kodaikkanal and Thekkadi..
After a gap of many many years, I think after high school.., I rode on a bicycle around the Kodaikkanal lake.

Initially, I had no confidence.. and no cycle balance either.. I literally zig-zagged across the road twice or thrice almost colliding against the compound walls on the sides of the road..
And then, my cousins told me to pedal fast and try cycling faster..

So, I pedalled hard.. the cycle moved forward and I knew I was moving straight.. but as soon as I realized this, my hands began to wobble.. and I stopped.

Encouraged by my good cousins, I tried once more and pedalled madly..
It was around 6 pm or so.. late in the evening.. there was a cool breeze... and the air was cool.
And a slight drizzle to top it.. a scenic view..
The whole world seemed beautiful.. and in my mind there was nothing else, but me on my bicycle..
The joy of cycling.., with the wind on my face.. and a moment that seemed to have no tomorrow..
I felt I was out of my control..., but I felt no apprehension..
Infact, I enjoyed it all the more..

There was no past.. there was no future..
There was nothing.. and no one... but the silent Kodaikkanal lake, the winds... a kind God.. and me, and my bicycle.
It was one moment.. which seemed to extend onto infinity.. a moment which I enjoyed thoroughly.

I remember shouting out at the top of my voice "I loved it.. I loved it!!!".. and I felt I were a child again with my spirits sky high.. and the cup of joy filled to the brim and overflowing.

A simple moment... a timeless moment.

Interesting Ways of Commiting Suicide

2009-04-25T00:04:00.000-07:00

This topic hit my head while I was travelling by a Cochin private bus..
At a time, when every fellow passenger soul was praying for their life... and thinking of their loved ones... I was speculating what a different and innovative modus-operandi this could provide for those weak-hearted who intend to "end-it-all"

So here is my list of innovative ways of doing urself in.

1. Take a ride in the cochin private bus. If by any chance, they dont ram you against a rival bus or a tanker lorry.., they will scare you out of your life.

2. For those who dont live in Cochin.. my 2nd suggestion is.. visit cochin and go to sleep with the windows open.. This is the haunt of mosquitoes that make Count Dracula and his regiment of vampires.. seem jovial and well-meaning idlers

3. Go out in the heat of the day.. This is a fuel-less way of setting yourself on fire. Either you evaporate directly into spirit.. or u get burned to the form of charcoal.

I swear I had thought up of one more method on my spiritual journey yesterday in that bus.. when my soul seemed to manifest itself and seemed to run away from me... but I am suffering from chronic amnesia.. after that traumatic bus ride

I welcome suggestions and ideas.. for the same :D

***Please note - this is just a joke.. and I am fully aware that, that which God gives.. only He has the right to take away.

The Conflict

2009-03-15T00:26:00.001-07:00

Isnt there a difference between being ethical and conventional?
Conventionality is adhering to some norms that has been around for sometime, without really understanding why you do something, and most often without even caring to bother why you are supposed to act and behave in one particular way. Its about going with the flow.., merging into a whole body called society.. and as far as I can understand, conventionality is just a medium towards acceptability and general approbation. Its just a way of not being conspicuous.
Ethics is about the person that you are or the person you want to be. Its about principles that defines the substance of ur being.. ur character.
I believe in ethics. I am a moralist and I am proud to be so. I have my religious views and my faith instills in me a strict sense of morality.. an understanding of right and wrong. From my childhood, I tried to question conventions and even posed questions about my faith to my mother.. and especially where my faith was concerned, if I had a question, somehow the questions were answered in a way that appealed to my sense, my rational, my heart. So the point is, I try not to swallow conventions.. I try not to live blindly. I think and I question.. and I keep asking till I am satisfied by the answer. If there are no answers, then I think that a particular convention is in place for no specific reason..
I desire to be a principled person.... because it is a matter of substance. I desire to be kind, honest, sincere, dedicated, dependable, and so on and so forth.. These qualities tell me what I value in a person or how I evaluate a person. It also tells me where I aim to be, as a person.
The positive side of conventionality, is that it provides you a way to gel in with the crowd.. and to avoid behaving in a way which makes u or people around you uncomfortable.
But, we shouldnt be so determined to stick on to conventional behaviour, so as to undermine the purpose of ones behaviour and give more weightage to approbation of the general society.

Lets take a hypothetical situation. A bachelor wishes to adopt a child.. say a boy. He goes ahead with all the formalities (I have no idea what the legal possibilities for this are.. its just hypothetical example) and adopts a son.. to take care of in a regular way.. From the moral point of view, there is nothing wrong with it. But from the conventional point of view, this could be a problem. There could be a zillion spiced up speculations in the neighbourhood, as to the "real story behind the scene"; scope for very imaginative gossips; a matter of discussion for all.. a general hullaboo to be enjoyed and celebrated by the whole of the neighborhood.. Before the guy realizes it, probably his character is finished. Why? Simply because he chose to think differently and act differently from the way majority of people think and act, he could end up getting crucified. (I am not advocating adoption by single parents.. I understand that especially in today's scenario, there could be a lot of misuse).

The point is.. while living in society and while sticking onto convnetionalities... its not enough to think good and act good. You have to nail it down your neighbour's throat that you are an extremely good individual.

I appreciate the "If i act in such a way, what will he or she feel? Will my actions hurt the person?" thinking. To an extent, I understand the "If I act in this way, what will they think about me?!!!".. To an extent, it is human and inevitable and also maybe even necessary.
But this thinking shouldn't become so prominent so as to make people paranoid.. and prompt them to behave simply for the convenience of other people, and to seek general approbation.

My grandmother had 4 daughters and no sons. During her times, people did not appreciate women going to shops and buying things... They appreciated women and girls who had no sound, no opinions.. who just ran the house smartly and made things comfortable for the men-folk and made no trouble at all.. My grandmother had no sons.. so she assigned tasks to her daughters including grocery shopping.. when these girls went to the grocer and bought things and came back with the change and accounted for every single anna they spent. Grandmother didnt stick to the conventions of the times.. She delegated tasks among her daughters.. encouraged them to study. She made her daughters capable and fit to be independent.. She was not a feminist... but she was just a woman who had a vision about what she wanted her children to be. She laid emphasis on their education to the point of being dictatively ambitious.., where-in she almost charted my mother's career for her.. She gave all support for their education to the point of their graduation. She brought them face to face with the real world.. My mother and aunts can tell the difference between the wood from a mango tree and the one from jackfruit tree..; they are familar with the different medical drugs and steroids and stuff used in medicines..; they have ideas about the parameters used to built house like the exact distance two beams to support the roof and so on.. All this thanks to a woman, who chose to think above conventions. Who was ready to bring her children up in the way that she thought best, and who risked disapproval of her peers..

Where an unprincipled person is concerned, he has no or very relaxed ethics. So if he sticks to conventions, he is just being superficial.. but atleast a conventional unprincipled person makes it easier for his neighbours and friends to pretend and accept him superficially... An unprincipled man can never have true friends, or is never truly trusted and relied upon..
Where a principled individual is concerned, whenever there is a conflict between his ethics and the set norms or conventions of a society, the ethics form the weighty part of the argument. And though, such a person could loose out on general approbation, he will never loose out on the trust, regard, respect of his friends or family, or whosoever who knows him in real.

My Voice

2009-02-13T01:30:00.000-08:00

I dint realize how strongly my blogs talks about things which are part of my individual space..
Things that I identify with, and yet which I dont really care about sharing..

Sometimes, I just forget that my blogs are read by other people..
Sometimes, I just remember it as a vent.. for my thoughts..
Like the way a moment is frozen and captured in a snap.. the same way, I write up things that I think up.. or that are important to me..

But the reason, I started this blog.. was firstly, to write.. secondly, to inspire some mind with a new but factual perspective, thirdly, out of a curiosity in knowing whether people can identify with my thoughts..

So, I am filtering out anything which doesnt fit into this purpose :D

And yes... this blog is my voice, that voice which I raise on matters which are important to me... or while it voices some funny moments of my life with whatever rational and irrational observations I throw in, in between.

Thats it!!!

Strength and Sensibility

2009-02-07T09:36:00.000-08:00

Life has made me stronger and bolder.
Often, I used to get tensed for the smallest of things.. I still do.
There is a difference b/w being confident and claiming to be confident... which becomes apparent by the turmoil that goes on in ur mind, just a few seconds b4 ur scheduled interview..

Earlier, I used to try to calm myself by deep breathing and maybe distracting my mind and thinking of some good, positive memories..
Recently, while I was waiting in the lobby for an interview.. I became tensed.
Its been quite a while since I had been to an office, with the familiar chilled air, so much in contrast to the outside burning sun..
The white gleaming tiles that reflect the light..
The security guards with the polite smiles..
Its been quite sometime.

I began to feel the tightening claws of my old friend Tension.
Then, I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I am a survivor..
I have faced worse things in life than just an interview that went wrong.. and I have survived it all..
I knew that at the worse, if the interview that I was about to attend, went wrong.. it wont finish me.
Nothing can finish me, as long as I intend to learn from it...
Whatever negative experiences I go through, even negative interviews.. could only benefit me, if I am determined to learn from it and make sure that I dont repeat the same mistakes.

At the end, it is only stagnation of mind and spirit that can destroy an individual.

And yes, I did calm down and I did get through. All thanks to God.

Not a trace left..

2009-01-23T09:01:00.001-08:00

Satyam Computer Services Limited.. when I joined this company years back as a fresher.. there was pride in my heart..
Hopes... wonder... Sense of security... sense of belonging
I remember the induction program.. the huge conference hall with those comfortable leather backed chairs and microphones before you..
For a person fresh out of college.., in the initial phases of "College-to-Corporate" transition, it gave a silent message of power, comfort and responsibility..
It filled me with awe..
We had a presentation on a huge screen, a presentation that talked about its fortune 500 clients, Satyam's ODCS and campus and its global offices.. the facilities.
The organizational structure.. hierarchies.
Awards and recognitions...
It was a brilliant day.. that day, dreams glittered like stars in everyone's eyes..
Such a contrast to the fear that I know must be in the hearts of everyone associated with it today, some way or the other..
Lots of my friends and colleagues are still with them, dedicated and hard working..
I really hope things work out for them.. in the end.
But still, the good will and the brand name.. seems to have sunk without a trace...
And it dint take a decade for this to happen.. but just 2 or 3 years.
Unbelievable!

Likewise..
So many things.. that I thought wud last me a lifetime
So many things, which I depended on..
So many things, which defined my world..
Some friendships, lots of moments, so many notions... so many many things sank without a trace.
Not a trace..
Sometimes life leaves u bewildered... and afraid of what's in store for you tomorrow.
Hmm.. as the saying goes, lets cross the bridge when we come to it. :-)

Tadaang.. A broken toe..!!

2008-12-19T06:01:00.000-08:00

"Jack fell down and broke his crown
And Jill came tumbling after"

I wasnt exactly thinking in those lines yesterday, when i tripped down the stairs and fell hard.
I felt the pain of "broken bones" to quote a recent post.. and more specifically "a broken bone".
I looked at my fore-foot and found my middle toe horribly twisted from its natural direction.
And I knew then..., at last, finally, this fall was heralding the first fracture in my life, in my 26th year..!

Well, I know that my mom must have celebrated the first day I crawled on my own.. or the first day I walked..
Though I missed out on those days, there is no way I am not going to celebrate this one.

After all, I had spend years waiting for the opportunity.. :D
I remember, I had nurtured an insane wish to make a historic entry into my college on my first day, on a horseback... daring and fearless.. I remember discussing with my brother about the technicalities of parking the horse in the car park, and descending from the horse using some nearby car as a ladder. It was a glorious dream..
The next best dream I had was going to school with either crutches or a sling around the arm. Fractures always had a fascination for me. Firstly, I had no idea how much it could hurt. I had only observed people from the outside. Secondly, there is always something heroic in trying to do the normal things of life, with something so visible a challenge like a fracture. I have had friends and cousins who have had gone through this. I have envied them, the fuss that people made about them. And also, there is that special dignity to which they arrive, when they tolerate the pain with a perceivable grimace.. and carry on their chores slowly but surely. Ofcourse, if you meant to greet your fracture with a loud howl, that wouldn't be the thing at all..!

I remember once, while I was in the 7th standard, I had prepared pretty well for my math exam.. It was Onam exams I think.. And, mom was dropping me and my friends, at the autorickshaw stand in Ulloor, when she took it to her head to move the vehichle forward owing to persistent honking of some darned vehchile behind us. Hmm, she moved the car forward , irrespective of the fact that I was attempting to get out and the tyre had partially gone over my foot. I was watching it with my own eyes.. too shocked to yell out.. to shocked to feel any pain.. but that was only momentary. And then, the pain began.. I knew I would miss my exams.. and I was upset, because I had prepared so well and because maths was one of my favorite subjects. But when I went to the hospital, they laid me on a stretcher and then, the novelty of the situation won over me. They laid me on a stretcher, simply because they had no wheel chairs; and the sight of a kid in school uniform on a stretcher, always attracts attention and sympathy. By the time I reached the XRAY room, I was basking in kind smiles, and I dried my tears and looked and felt the perfect saint.. It turned out to be only an ankle sprain and no fractures! But my mom's remorseful tears, and the neighbor's visits cheered me up a lot..

Today, I called up my friend, and she greeted the situation with an equal enthusiasm.. "If you confirm its a fracture, I will visit u with tonnes of rotten oranges" she assured me.. Those words were such comfort. I went to the doctor, full of hopes.. He examined the toe and gave it such lovely wrings that I was sure that, if the bones weren't broken before, they were sure to be broken now. I limped all the way to the XRAY room, grandly putting up brave airs of endurance. And the XRAY was done, and I was waiting in the lounge... While waiting, for a split of a second, I did wonder, that after having to endure all this pain, what if I were to be denied the pleasurable verdict of a fracture?!!! I dint get much time to worry, coz I was called to see the doctor, and there he showed me the XRAY of my forefoot and showed some line on the bone and said "see that.. its broken. Thats y it hurt that much".. and then he pulled at my toe a couple of times to dress it in plaster.. and finally after that ordeal, I limped my way out of the hospital..

I am to have 3 weeks of rest.. and a new story to talk about for 3 decades in future. 3 weeks of an excuse to just lie about and be lazy... 3 weeks of making big eyes at mommy, and getting her to serve me bed coffee.. And hopefully, my friend will come tomorrow with the promised rotten oranges.
Could life get any better??

(Note - My mother said its a cruel blog. No disrespect meant for people suffering from illnesses and real health issues. And I meant no blasphemy. Its just my way of laughing at myself)

The message of Eid and Abraham(pbuh)'s story

2008-12-07T19:47:00.000-08:00

Have I been bitten by the writing bug? 3 blogs in a week.. after passive lapses of months..
But anyways, here it is..

It is Eid-al-Adha or the festival of sacrifice today and its 9:28am in the morning.. After an unusual bath in the early morning and after taking part in the congregation at the Chandrashekhar Nair Stadium in trivandrum at 7:40 am, I am teeming with energy and good spirit. This is a bi-annual experience for most muslims. Standing together, shoulder-to-shoulder without leaving gaps between people, gathered under a misty sky, in the cool morning.. proclaiming the greatness of God in unison, and bowing down in sujood (which is an ideal form of sashtangapranaamam - bcoz only ur forehead, the tip of ur nose, the 2 palms, the knees(2), and the feet(2) touch the ground.. when u count, it adds upto 8), it gave me an indescribable feeling of brotherhood... both of faith, and of common humanity. The Imaam of the Palayam Jamaaet mosque made a speech in which he mentioned the spirit of Abraham or Ibrahim(peace be upon him or pbuh), and the message of Mohammad(pbuh).. who taught us that : "Indeed there is no excellence for an Arab over a non-Arab, nor a non-Arab over an Arab, nor a White person over a Black one, nor a Black person over a White one, except through piety". I had always known, understood and believed firmly in equality.. and I owe this to my faith. I live in a world of double-standards, where the world celebrates the coming to power of a man of African origin, in the supposedly most civilised nation of the world, in this 21st century. I had known the history of a freed black slave Bilaal, who was the first muezzin in Islam.., the first man who sounded the call for Azaan, inviting people to prayer.. - a coveted honour for which all the companions of the Prophet vied. The Prophet himself bent down, and this black man, this great companion of the Prophet, stepped on his shoulder to climb onto the top of the Kaeba mosque, to give the first Azaan to prayer in his beautiful voice. This happened more than 1400 yrs back.. in a land which was originally full of savage immorality, drunken revelry, tribal wars, oppression and full-fledged slavery ..

Even in India, as in different parts of the world, we have different castes... we have different means of seggregating and dividing people.. means to label one superior and another inferior by birth.. and not by qualities or values.One of our family friends who is also a Muslim, narrated an incident in which he had to visit some place in tamil nadu,and had to stay at the house of a former collague of his who belongs to the so-called upper-caste.. He was told politely, that he had to wash the plate and glass from which he ate and drank.. It is another thing that when this colleague paid a visit to this uncle's house, he treated him with the same hospitality that he extends to every friend and acquaintance. In India, we have caste system and regionalism.. Somewhere in our hearts, we carry this pitiable untouchability.. Every man tries to carry within himself, some reason or means of conviction of his own superiority over the others, sometimes, its caste, sometimes its regionalism... The reason why we are a highly divided community, is because we lack the basic idea of fraternity.. of unity, of being one even when diverse.. It is this polarization that the terrorists attacking India, intend to mobilize and solidify..inorder to throw the nation into chaos and anarchy. This is also why, we as a nation, are so susceptible to dirty politics of division on the lines of religion, caste, regions..South Indians, North Indians, Tamilians, Maharashtrians,UPians, Biharis, Bengalis, Keralaits.. we all try to prove that we are better than the rest so often... its almost an unconscious trait.. Every region, every language, every religion.. has its history, has its ethnicity, has its message, its flavour to add... This rich diversity is what makes India, India..

The 49th chapter of Quran says "O mankind! We have created you from single male and female and made you into nations and tribes so that you may know one another. Surely, the best of you in the sight of Allah (God) is the most righteous (God fearing) of you."
Therefore, my faith had always solidified my belief in true and not bogus fraternity and equality.Coz, we are the same God's creations, created in the same way, and the lineage of every single individual reaches back to Adam and Eve(peace be upon them).. Eid-al-Adha commences after the Hajj pilgirmage. If u have ever watched the gathering at Mecca, u will see that europeans, africans, asians people from different races, nations, continents gather together, and offer their prayers standing shoulder-to-shoulder.There is absolutely no difference whether u r rich, what race u belong to, or the color of ur skin. When they bow down in sujood before God, the face of one man would be close to the feet of the man bowing in front of him.. Its a lesson in humility also.., a lesson of loosing oneself in a mass of humanity.. This idea of fraternity, and equality is one of the several important messages of Islam as well as Eid-al-Adha.

The spirit of Eid-Al-Adha is the spirit of sacrifice. The history of a legendary heroic family.. and the history of Abraham or Ibrahim(pbuh), one of my most favorite Prophets, and also a Prophet accepted equally by the Jews, Christians and Muslims.. Ibrahim was a Prophet and he had been tested by God several times, and each time Ibrahim(pbuh) did the right thing and took the difficult decisions and obeyed God. One of the tests he had to face, was the test of sacrifice. Ibrahim had no children in his youth; he was blessed with one in his old age.. A parent would love his child dearly.. words are insufficient to describe what a child would mean to its parent. But imagine, growing old and having no expectations of a child, and then one day, u r blessed with one.. In such a situation, you would love it and value it even more..

It is God's way to test man in different ways.. One example is the test of the Sabbath day.God declared to the Jews that no work should be done on Sabbath day of the week, and that the people should spend the day in prayers, remembering Him.. The people there lived near the sea and were fishermen. God tested them by reducing the catch on the weekdays, and on Sabbath day, he made the sea waves glisten with the scales of the fish.. such was the abundance of fish on the seas in that day.. This phenomenon repeated several times.. Thus, a section of the community were tempted by this and built some construction to trap the fish coming in with the waves on the Sabbath day.. and thus disobeyed God, and they were duly punished (This part is narrated in the Chapter 2 of Quran).. It has always been God's way to test man, and prove as to who is faithful and who isnt.. And it has also been God's way to test the more faithful of His subjects with stronger and severe tests to prove the extent of the faith of His believers..

Ibrahim(pbuh) was a strong devoted man.. hence, his tests were also strong.. In a dream, God commanded him to sacrifice his dear son Ismael.(This was the dream coming to a Prophet and not an ordinary man). Accordingly, he tells his believer wife about this, and takes his son along and tells him on the way, about the sacrifice. Quran tells how the son responded, in patience and in faith.. he said that God's will should be done and that he will patiently endure this and asked his father to proceed. Ibrahim(pbuh) ties his son down and sacrifices him.. And then, God returns the boy to him intact, and tells him to sacrifice a lamb instead.. God tells in Quran, that it is neither the blood nor the flesh of the lamb that reaches God.. but the heart-felt willingness to sacrifice and obey God at all costs.. This event is the history of 3 believers.. father, mother and son.. all three of whom, willed to obey God even at personal loss.. Even during a difficult time, they remained united and subservient to God.

Sacrificing self-interest for the sake of God needs 2 pre-requisites..
1. Complete faith in God.. This means, not just a belief that God exists... It means belief in His qualities.. I know I cannot sacrifice for a God who is whimsical, who exploits His creations.. or who tortures man for His entertainment. But I know that God isnt whimsical..,He never exploits man, or delights in the suffering of man. When He demands from us, a difficult decision, He does so for good and good only. He is Merciful and Considerate. Even then, if He tests me, it is to increase my strength.., it is to make me know my own strengths better, and to know Him better.. I know God has good reasons to test me, or to exact from me a difficult task. I believe Him eyes closed.. and I know, that this would only make me a better individual.
2. Willingness to do good.. to obey. Submission. It is not enough to believe in God.. There must also be a willingness to be led by Him. To do that which is right by Him.. to abstain from wrong.. It is not my convenience or conventions that should dictate to me my rights and wrongs.. Because, very often, there is only a thin line that separates right and wrong and my judgments may not always be right.. But God, is never wrong. Emotions change.., today I feel one thing.. tomorrow another. Hence, I cannot depend on my emotions to guide me always. Worldly morals fluctuate heavily.. Yesterday homo-sexuality was'nt allowed, today it is.. Today child pornography isnt officially allowed.. Who knows how much more accomodating worldly morals will be tomorrow? No, I cannot be guided by worldly morals..because worldly morals are dictated by the convenience of the masses.. And as right is difficult, and wrong easy and as the masses usually traverse the easy path.., more often than not, worldly morals are weak. I choose to be led by God. He never varies.. His right and wrong are fixed, and always dependable. If an average man chooses to do right, and abstain from wrong at all costs, the world would have been so much more of a better place.

One simple example of such a sacrifice is the idea of charity and distribution of wealth among the masses.. On one side, we have rich countries whose people discard tonnes of processed and otherwise food stuff down the trash.. and on the other side, we have larger nations surviving on scraps..

The message of sacrifice, where we learn to think beyond our own existence, combined with the message of fraternity and equality (the ability to see our equal in an impoverished and a deprived human being) is the solution for humanity. This is the message of Eid-Al-Adha.

Bewitched by Austen

2008-12-07T10:18:00.000-08:00

I had begun reading Jane Austen, sometime in high school. I had always felt enchanted by the plots, especially Pride and Prejudice; the characters, especially Emma and Elizabeth Jane, and the perfect Mr.Darcy..
But with time, what attracted me to Austen was her witty narrations and keen perception of the world around her. I happened to read Mansfield Park recently, both the plot and the characters arent my favorite.. But I was astounded by the solidity of Austen's observations.. and her satire and wit ofcourse.

I admire Jane Austen deeply... and salute her wit, her intellect, her sensibility and her spirit.

And I wish to add to my blog, some great quotes by this great woman..

How wonderful, how very wonderful the operations of time, and the changes of the human mind!…If any one faculty of our nature may be called more wonderful than the rest, I do think it is memory. There seems something more speakingly incomprehensible in the powers, the failures, the inequalities of memory, than in any other of our intelligences. The memory is sometimes so retentive, so serviceable, so obedient; at others, so bewildered and so weak; and at others again, so tyrannic, so beyond control! We are, to be sure, a miracle every way; but our powers of recollecting and of forgetting do seem peculiarly past finding out." -Fanny Price, Mansfield Park

Nothing amuses me more than the easy manner with which everybody settles the abundance of those who have a great deal less than themselves. - Mansfield Park

"Here's harmony!" said she; "here's repose! Here's what may leave all painting and all music behind, and what poetry only can attempt to describe! Here's what may tranquilize every care, and lift the heart to rapture! When I look out on such a night as this, I feel as if there could be neither wickedness nor sorrow in the world; and there certainly would be less of both if the sublimity of Nature were more attended to, and people were carried more out of themselves by contemplating such a scene." Fanny Price, Mansfield Park

It was a very proper wedding. The bride was elegantly dressed; the two bridesmaids were duly inferior; her father gave her away; her mother stood with salts in her hand, expecting to be agitated; her aunt tried to cry; and the service was impressively read by Dr. Grant. - Mansfield Park

I am worn out with civility," said he. "I have been talking incessantly all night, and with nothing to say. But with you, Fanny, there may be peace. You will not want to be talked to. Let us have the luxury of silence." Edmund Bertram, Mansfield Park

Henry Crawford had too much sense not to feel the worth of good principles in a wife, though he was too little accustomed to serious reflection to know them by their proper name. - Mansfield Park

The glory of heroism, of usefulness, of exertion, of endurance, made his own habits of selfish indulgence appear in shameful contrast; and he wished he had been a William Price, distinguishing himself and working his way to fortune and consequence with so much self-respect and happy ardour, instead of what he was! - The narrator on Henry Crawford, Mansfield Park

She had feeling, genuine feeling. It would be something to be loved by such a girl, to excite the first ardours of her young unsophisticated mind! She interested him more than he had foreseen. A fortnight was not enough. His stay became indefinite. The Narrator, Mansfield Park

"I shall always look back on our theatricals with exquisite pleasure. There was such an interest, such an animation, such a spirit diffused. Everybody felt it. We were all alive. There was employment, hope, solicitude, bustle, for every hour of the day. Always some little objection, some little doubt, some little anxiety to be got over. I never was happier."
With silent indignation Fanny repeated to herself, "Never happier!-never happier than when doing what you must know was not justifiable!-never happier than when behaving so dishonourably and unfeelingly! Oh! what a corrupted mind!" -Henry Crawford & Fanny Price, Mansfield Park

Though she had known the pains of tyranny, of ridicule, and neglect, yet almost every recurrence of either had led to something consolatory…Edmund had been her champion and her friend: he had supported her cause or explained her meaning, he had told her not to cry, or had given her some proof of affection which made her tears delightful; and the whole was now so blended together, so harmonised by distance, that every former affliction had its charm. The Narrator on Fanny Price, Mansfield Park

You will think me rhapsodising; but when I am out of doors, especially when I am sitting out of doors, I am very apt to get into this sort of wondering strain. One cannot fix one's eyes on the commonest natural production without finding food for a rambling fancy." Fanny Price, Mansfield Park

Oh! do not attack me with your watch. A watch is always too fast or too slow. I cannot be dictated to by a watch. - Mansfield Park

I cannot think well of a man who sports with any woman's feelings; and there may often be a great deal more suffered than a stander-by can judge of. - Mansfield Park

(I love this one!) The intimacy bw them daily increased till at length it grew to such a pitch that they did not scruple to kick one another out of the window at the slightest provocation.. - Mansfield Park

The enthusiasm of a woman's love is even beyond the biographer's. - Mansfield Park

A large income is the best recipe for happiness I ever heard of. - Mansfield Park

We have all a better guide in ourselves, if we would attend to it, than any other person can be. - Mansfield Park

Men have had every advantage of us in telling their own story. Education has been theirs in so much higher a degree; the pen has been in their hands. I will not allow books to prove anything - Mansfield Park

Life seems but a quick succession of busy nothings - Mansfield Park

From the movie adapatation of Mansfield Park

Fanny Price: [referring to Henry Crawford] I do not trust him, sir.
Sir Thomas Bertram: What do you distrust?
Fanny Price: His nature, sir. Like many charming people, he conceals an almost absolute dependence on the appreciation of others.
Sir Thomas Bertram: And what is the terrible ill in that?
Fanny Price: His sole interest is in being loved, sir, not in loving.

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. - Pride and Prejudice

Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously.... Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us. - Pride and Prejudice

(An excellent quote) How little of permanent happiness could belong to a couple who were only brought together because their passions were stronger than their virtue. - Pride and Prejudice

Happiness in marriage is entirely a matter of chance. If the dispositions of the parties are ever so well known to each other or ever so similar beforehand, it does not advance their felicity in the least. They always continue to grow sufficiently unlike afterwards to have their share of vexation; and it is better to know as little as possible of the defects of the person with whom you are to pass your life. - Pride and Prejudice

(Another quote which has both sense, truth and satire in it) For what do we live, but to make sport for our neighbours, and laugh at them in our turn? - Pride and Prejudice

In every power, of which taste is the foundation, excellence is pretty fairly divided between the sexes. - Northanger Abbey

Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love.- Northanger Abbey

But when a young lady is to be a heroine, the perverseness of forty surrounding families cannot prevent her. Something must and will happen to throw a hero in her way. - Northanger Abbey

Silly things do cease to be silly if they are done by sensible people in an impudent way. - Emma

One half of the world cannot understand the pleasures of the other. - Emma

I have been a selfish being all my life, in practice, though not in principle. - Emma

If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. - Emma

The real evils, indeed, of Emma's situation were the power of having rather too much her own way, and a disposition to think a little too well of herself - Emma

I shall not be a poor old maid; and it is poverty only which makes celibacy contemptible to a generous public! A single woman, with a very narrow income, must be a ridiculous, disagreeable old maid! the proper sport of boys and girls, but a single woman, of good fortune, is always respectable, and may be as sensible and pleasant as any body else. - Emma

Where little minds belong to rich people in authority, I think they have a knack of swelling out, till they are quite as unmanageable as great ones - Emma

Mr. Knightley, in fact, was one of the few people who could see faults in Emma Woodhouse, and the only one who ever told her of them.... - Emma

Vanity working on a weak head, produces every sort of mischief. - Emma

There is one thing, Emma, which a man can always do, if he chooses, and that is, his duty - Emma

The more I know of the world, the more I am convinced that I shall never see a man whom I can really love - Emma

Seldom, very seldom, does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised, or a little mistaken - Emma

(An interesting quote) I do not want people to be agreeable, as it saves me the trouble of liking them. - Jane Austen

To sit in the shade on a fine day, and look upon verdure is the most perfect refreshment.- Jane Austen

(Shrewd and witty) Business, you know, may bring you money, but friendship hardly ever does. - Jane Austen

Every man is surrounded by a neighborhood of voluntary spies. - Jane Austen

(Intelligent observation) General benevolence, but not general friendship, makes a man what he ought to be. - Jane Austen

How quick come the reasons for approving what we like! - Jane Austen

Human nature is so well disposed towards those who are in interesting situations, that a young person, who either marries or dies, is sure of being kindly spoken of.- Jane Austen

What wild imaginations one forms where dear self is concerned! How sure to be mistaken! - Jane Austen

What is right to be done cannot be done too soon - Jane Austen

There is no charm equal to tenderness of heart - Jane Austen

There are people, who the more you do for them, the less they will do for themselves. - Jane Austen

The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid. - Jane Austen

Good-humoured, unaffected girls, will not do for a man who has been used to sensible women. They are two distinct orders of being - Jane Austen

One man's ways may be as good as another's, but we all like our own best. - Jane Austen

One does not love a place the less for having suffered in it, unless it has been all suffering, nothing but suffering - Jane Austen

(!!!) My sore throats are always worse than anyone's - Jane Austen

My idea of good company is the company of clever, well-informed people who have a great deal of conversation; that is what I call good company. - Jane Austen

Madness born and borne...!

2008-11-28T07:42:00.000-08:00

There was an infant pink rose budding in the garden.. and I had my eyes on it..
On a pretty day, I reached out my hand to gently touch it.. but its thorns pricked me..
Hurt, I wondered why the pretty rose had pricked me, when I had meant it no harm and when I only liked it so much..
The bud 's hue had grown a richer rose shade.. as though nourished by the drop of blood it had wrung from my hand.It was more blooming and prettier than ever.
And then, Life glided along, pale-faced and thin-lipped but beautiful.. She had a wise forehead.. and looked at me with a wistful mouth and sorrowful eyes and whispered "Have u learned?"
"Learned what?" I wondered..
She shook her pretty dark head sadly and disappeared.

I saw her again, the day my kitten died.
He was just 7 weeks old.. I could easily hold him in the palm of my hand, if he would sit still.. which he rarely did.
He was lying stiff and still, outside our gate, all its playfulness and vivacity gone.. with a wicked hole on its tiny hind leg..
Sobbing my heart out, I felt a cold hand on my forehead.
I looked up and then there she was, looking at me pityingly..
"People die, day in day out.. Mothers loose children.. Children loose parents.. People get killed, not knowing why.. and die without saying goodbyes. And you cry over your kitten?"
I looked at her in awe and dried my silly tears..
"Have you not learned yet?" she asked me softly..
"What?" I mumbled..
"Have u not learned that the living die and that they struggle while they live.
Have u not learned that, just as u feel joy, so shall u feel sorrow..
And while joys disappear as soon as they come, sorrows linger.
Therefore, stop feeling. Harden your mind.
Be immune to the early rays of the sun, thus u will be immune to the thunder and storm..
Focus! Calculate! Schedule! Your profits alone should be your goal.."

I recited these wise but cold words in my mind, till I knew it by-heart..
But still.. the rays of the rising sun filled me with joy each time it rose.
Grey clouds darkened my days when they came.
Dew drops and rain drops brought music and fresh life.
Thunder, Lightning and Storm brought fear and despair.
Roses delighted, thorns pricked..
I felt afresh every joy, every sorrow, sense of pride, regret, laughter, anger, despair, hope, life and monotony.

Life met me, now and then.. and each time we met she was more beautiful and alluring.
But the sorrow of her eyes had evolved into bitterness...
And the wistfulness of her mouth had grown into a cruel smile...
"Have u not learned?" she kept asking..
"No.. not yet.."
She would laugh haughtily at me.. and walk away in scorn, still looking beautiful.
She grew more cruel and tyrannical as time went on..
She pummeled me, tripped me unawares and would shriek "Have you not learned?!"
"No.. not yet.." I would reply.
Her eyes had become blood shot.. her lips were blood red and stood out against her pale glowing skin.. She was beautiful still.. but cruel.
At times, she amused herself by laying a heavy hand on my shoulder and sending me staggering down to my knees..
"Have u not learned?"
"No.. not yet"...

And then I saw her one day..
She had the eyes of a fanatic.. frenzied.. lost
Her mouth was that of a vampire.. surviving on human pain.
In the fading light, her pale skin glowed luminously..
Her dark head was all tumbled down in unkempt curls..
She fell on me with madness and slapped me.
Threw me down with mad force.. and dragged me over the rough pavements..
She kicked me mercilessly and I heard the crunching sound of broken bones..
She laughed coldly... and asked me "Have you not learned yet?"
"No... not yet." My voice sounded so distant.. tired and weak but firm
"I am willing to cry, in order to have the power to smile..
I dont want to shut my eyes on joy, glory and good for fear of sorrow, gloom and evil.
While I live, I want to live, not merely exist...
I have not learned.. Nor shall you ever teach me"
"The more the fool you are" she spat on my face laughing scornfully.. and left me
Then there was darkness..
Time ticked on in the iced stillness...
And then, from somewhere distant and yet nearby, I heard a sorrowing soulful and ethereal music...
Are not broken flutes mute? Can they utter notes? I think, no..
Yet, I knew that this was the muted music from a broken flute..
It floated around me in vacuum and encompassed me, welling with the agony of un-despairing hope...

A Salutation to snuffed out Innocence

2008-10-17T05:15:00.000-07:00

There is a stupid comedy scene in a malayalam movie.. the concept of which had been duplicated many times.. where-in, some comical but plotting characters in the movie try to get at someone by planning a bomb and then.. at the crucial moment, some comical twist happens by which their loyal dog or some similar agent carries back the briefcase containing that bomb and chases them.. and the scene ends with the bomb exploding, and the plotters appearing in a black smoke all dishevelled and the audience laughs..

Hmm.. I wonder if I can appreciate that scene again..

In the recent bomb explosion in Mehrauli flower market in Delhi, a 13 year old boy named Santhosh Kumar was killed and several were injured. The mental trauma of the injured, will probably haunt them for their remaining lifetime.. God knows....

At the age of 13, this little boy sold evening snacks to help his family. On the day of the explosion, he saw two people on a bike leave a packet outside a shop.. Thinking that they had forgotten it, he took it and ran behind them to return it... He was rewarded for his pains.., by a violent death. I wish I could write of it in the simplest words.. because the dignity of that child.. his sincerity.. his honesty.. that prompted him to help those people... I do not wish to belittle that dignity with grand sensational language.. My heart-felt salutations for that little child.. and a heart-felt prayer for his soul to be in peace.. He died while doing a good deed.... and somehow, that last deed of his shows that he was a principled child.. He could have easily minded his business.. and went his way... but he was a conscientious child...

I dont know who are behind these blasts.. destroying lives and families.... Would the true culprits be punished? or will they escape justice in this world? I dont know.. But I know one thing.. and I am as sure of it, as the sun rises in the east.. they wont escape God. No matter from which community, no matter for what gains and agenda.., no matter for what dirty political motives, no matter how powerful or secure they are..., and no matter what religion they follow.., those who master-minded and executed these filthy blasts and all such violence wont escape God.

In the meanwhile, may God give the rest of us strength.

Nothing

2008-08-17T02:22:00.001-07:00

I want to stand by the sea-side, and to stoop down and scoop a handful of sand and to watch the sand trickle from between my clutched fingers slowly - till I am left with nothing.

Nothing.

In the hands of God

2008-08-10T05:17:00.000-07:00

Whenever i go through difficult times, I loose heart quickly... but coming to UAE where the sound of Aazaan rings loud and clear.. I have learned to gather my courage. Bcoz when i loose heart.. I hear words over the loudspeaker "God is Great"... a reminder, an assurance..

I want to shortly 2 instances of inspiring stories I had read in mail forwards... which most of u must have read sometime or the other.. But I use it here to remind me and remind those who are in need of it...

1. A mountaineer hikes up the heights of a mountain when suddenly he is caught in a storm.. and he looses his grip and falls down the side of the mountain. But, thanks to the rope tied round his waist.. his fall is broken off at the point where the length of the rope unfolds completely... and tenses up against the leverage point of the pickaxe.. Bruised, our man holds on to the rope.., hanging midway down the mountain, and prays to God "God, help me".. and God says "Ok.. I will help you. But do u trust me?" Man says : " I do".
God: " then untie the rope off ur waist and let go."
Our man holds on to the rope in silence...

Next day they found a mountaineer frozen to death, hanging from a rope, inches above the ground.

2. Another story runs like this...
Man to God : "Oh God.. In good times, i felt ur presence and always found a pair of footsteps close to my own. Whose footsteps were those?"
God: "They were mine.. I always kept u company and watched over u day and night".

Man : "But when i went through difficult times, i found that the other footsteps tracks had vanished.. I was on my own. Why did u leave me? U had said that u will always be by my side".
God: "Those tracks that u saw on the ground were made by me. In ur difficult phase, I was carrying you".

Both stories are beautiful in their symbolic value... The first one teaches to trust God and not question Him. And the second one teaches us that God is always there with us.. and more so during our difficult times, always ready to help... all we need to do is to extend our hands towards him with a non-greedy and a grateful heart which loves His company in good times as well.

Once,back home, i went to the goldsmith to fix my chain.. I watched as he took my chain.. and applied some stuff on it and then heated it up with a greenish flame till the metal grew grey.. and then he dipped it in cold water mixed with some powder.. He repeated this process several times.. and i watched aghast.. Finally, he took the chain and washed it in water and patted it dry and returned it to me more shiny and prettier than ever.
It reminded me of my mother's words about how God moulded human beings through trials... How He would put heat our hearts up and hammer away on it with tongs and dip it in ice cold water while we burned away.. and how He would even repeat it.. till we are made strong enough.. and better. In God's hands, there is no harm. I am safe there.

Last week, i lost the 2nd round of interview for a job. I got down from a cab and walked towards home crestfallen... and i looked up towards the clouds.. There high above the ground.. about 20 stories high, I saw a man perched up with a concrete slab on a shaky metallic plank pulled up by a crane.. in the hot sun. If that man who could risk his life for his piece of bread, could go through life fighting and struggling and find it worth his while.., I had no business feeling sad and complaining.

I have so much to be grateful for.Thank you God.

2 mins at a traffic block

2008-03-06T02:02:00.001-08:00

Today I was late to office (its not a new thing, ofcourse) and so I hired an auto from my doorstep to my bus stop and was eventually caught in the bangalorean traffic…
I was impatient and wondering whom to curse when I happened to see a school bus to my right.
There was a lot of bustling activity within, and I cudnt help but watch the little brats.
There were kids of different ages…. Mostly small boys and girls and a little more senior girls…
The little boys were the most active in the group…
Most of them were seated on the back seats of the bus, and 4 boys were fighting – making fists at each other… and gesticulating with their hands…
They were even leaving their seats and running around.
Little girls were chattering, probably gossiping about ghosts and miracles..
They leaned forward and backward on their seats, as though they were restless but still reluctant to get up.
And the senior girls with neat platted pig tails on both sides, were bent over the books, hurriedly reading away…
Looked like they were revising yesterday’s portion and preparing for questions from some rigorous dedicated teacher…

I was enjoying the action and the buzz inside that bus… carrying its load of restless, important little people with their little keen minds eager to understand the complex world that surrounds them. And I was very happy with the little boys, and slightly disappointed with the more demure little girls…
Those 2 mins in the traffic took me 2 decades back to school when I ruled in my own little world.

2 decades back I was a better human being …
Starting life with an open mind, a trusting disposition, a fuller spirit and a bigger heart.
And yes, restless too.

Escapades like biting my van driver’s hand to set me free from his grasp and running away to cross the road on my own… and getting all the sympathy while narrowly escaping getting run over by an auto, while subjecting the bewildered and bitten driver to an outpour of local theries by the aaya of the school…. I remember that evening the driver had a band-aid plastered on his hand…

Memories of scaling up to the heights of a mango tree along with my brother and his friends.. and proudly bringing back a green raw mango for my mother to share with her.. And instead of being rewarded and praised for my accomplishment, I was caned for “stealing” a mango from the park… Grown-ups always introduced this unpredictable twist into our simple lives!!!

Days of rain, when I would run out on the terrace with my umbrella and rain-coat and then run around in the rain (sans the umbrella and raincoat) and throw strips of paper on the floor to see it float (coz tho I wished to make a paper boat I never knew how), and then being dragged off the terrace by mother and being ordered to take a bath. And after having dried my hair, sneaking off to the terrace a second time, to be found out by my mother once again and being caned simply coz a kid was fascinated with the rain..

Days of primitive, unsophisticated selfishness…. When I broke the attractive glass covering of the 2 identical pencilbox cases I had brought for me and my bestfriend, I gifted the broken pencilbox to her with a straight face – and to this date, I get teased for this act.

Days of rowdyism, when I smashed a boy against the wall simply coz he told me he wont give me my umbrella back unless I fought with him.. Likewise chasing a classmate with the cardboard examination board coz he called me a “chakka”…
And a funny day when I pretended to cry by rubbing my eyes, and scared the class monitor to rub my name off the board from the list of the talkative pple..
And a brilliant day when I was punished by a nun I loved and love to this day, by making me stand in front of the class with my tie tied like a tail and the message written on the board “I AM A MONKEY”….

Brilliant days – beautiful memories – the best part of a lifetime lived with genuine spirit, and genuine companionship…
And these moments flashed by as I stared at the lucky kids within that school bus…
And just as the vehichles began to move a small girl rose from the seat, and lightly thrashed the conductor on the hand and grinned straight on his face..
And I broke into a smile..
Old playground, new players.
Maybe when a retired cricketer watches a young blood hit an unpredictable six, he feels the same way I did…
“Brilliant… well done!!!”

Musings

2007-10-26T05:58:00.000-07:00

?

Some people's lives are so full of struggle...
They are brought low to the mud...
And they strive to rise... even when burdens weigh on their weakened shoulders...
And bravely they strive...
I wonder how many do finally rise and gaze at the skies...

Some other people do I find...,
Their life is so much blessed...
No strive is written on their brows...
Minor struggles.., small winds... that’s all they find
Across their path as they walk...
Their life is simple and so pretty...
That one cannot but gape and admire...

Still why is there this difference?
Why for some the storm...
And why for others small little breezes
In both the worlds’ around...

As I turn around in life and find
Both the parties' lives' contrast...
I could not but wonder... and ache away
As to why some struggle and fail...
And why towards joy do some simply sail away..?

One gift I need

2007-10-15T11:43:00.000-07:00

One gift I desperately need is the ability to see good in people around me, to see their best qualities of which they themselves may not be aware...

Cynism makes life difficult... it depresses the mind and heart. On the other hand, the gift of seeing good in people around u - truly see and feel it, rather than pretending to appreciate where it is lacking..., it is a gift to be envied for. It makes life more beautiful.. it is one gift that makes u happy inside...

Well this is one gift I cant shop for.... but the best gifts in life come for free and sometimes with lots of effort.

Branded Hooligans

2007-07-18T01:50:00.000-07:00

Is it just the cynnical me?

I dont know... wherever I turn my eyes I see so many many qualified people.... people who have done their graduation, post graduation and people with professional degrees and people with a long list of educational credentials on their nameboard. But sadly, I can see only very few educated people. Education isnt about degrees and academic accomplishments..., its about gaining knowledge and evolving on it as a person. Its about personal growth.... growth in intellect and growth in civilities and a growth towards being civlised.

I want to narrate an incident that happened... it is this simple commonplace incident that set me thinking and I want others (atleast those who read the blog) to think along with me.

My friend and I had, after a Quran class session, got down at the Shivaji Nagar bus stand in an auto rickshaw. We had to cross the road to get to the bus stand. And as was the usual case, there were some vehichles lined up on the road in a partial traffic block with some buses emerging from the bus stand.Those who have been to Bangalore or other crowded cities should be knowing that when it comes to crossing the road, we cant wait for all the vehichles to move out of the scene, as more is bound to follow. We have to take our chances. Anyhow, in the current scenario, most of the vehichles were lying immobile, stuck in the jam. We tried crossing the road routing through the lined up vehichles but finally came to point where we a BMTC bus was blocking our way.., and the only option at hand was to retrace our path which wasnt a wise option anyways. The vehichles slowly got moving then, and we waited for the bus before us to clear out...

We were standing in the path of a red car... And the driver was honking rudely... I hand signalled him to wait or stop and hoped that we could cross soon enough without having to stall other vehichles any further. The driver blared the horns again and lurched the car forward till it actually hit me on my knees. When I turned around to stare at the driver, expecting him to be apolgetic at the least, what I found was him making rude hand gesticulations at me.... I was stunned. I wondered what he expected me to do... slide beneathe the slowly edging bus... vanish or what??? I had half a mind to drag him out by the collar and shake him like a rat.

The guy, from what I could make out, appeared to be a part of the upper middle class... He was either a part of the IT or an equally flourishing industry or he was just a plain spoiled rich brat. There was a lady beside him. In today's era where women demand and share an equal space with man, I cannot expect chivalrous or gallant attitude in men. But I can and do demand a humane consideration. Couldnt that man stop for a moment and consider what he could have done if he were in my place?? I drive cars as well. And it is not so difficult to be a considerate, responsible driver. And a touch of courtesy wont hurt.

The sad part about the average person today, is that everything that is presentable about him is only on the surface. From his branded hair gel, to watch , perfumes and shoes... from head to toe he sports branded goods. He is bothered about how he appears... and spends time, money in spas and saloons. But the person that he is inside, is as barbaric and uncultivated as a hooligan. And maybe worse than a roadside hooligan because he had better opportunities to evolve.... but dint.

I also wonder, as to how people I meet in my work place and who appear friendly and smiling, would behave on the roads to someone who they dont know. The true person who u r, is how u behave with someone u dont know and who doesnt have the least impact in ur life....

I wonder...... I truly wonder...........................................

How weird am I?

2006-10-17T23:47:00.000-07:00

I am tagging on to my friend Reshmi. Felt it was pretty interesting.., coz I have never really given any thought to the weirdities within me as they are bound to be there in any individual.

Here's what I could think of ;-)

1.When by myself - One weird aspect about me woule be my habit of talking to myself. When I study, I happily imagine that I am surrounded by nice studious kids and then lecture away to glory, at times pausing to attend to their doubts and answer them back their questions. I have been this way since my childhood. This was one chief source of amusement to my brother. Sometimes, I do a commentary on my own actions. Like when wanting to type on a new line, I will repeat “Now lets hit Enter”, or when walking I will say to myself “Now we take a right”.. There have been times while on my own, when I think of something so funny, that I have burst out laughing right there and then on the road when all by myself.
2. Driving like crazy – I love to hit the accelerator and zoom away. The only thing that keeps me back is the fear to endanger fellow roadies’ lives. I never drive when my mom’s around coz I am afraid it will hike up her BP. Usually I am a considerate driver when I have a passenger – I just get rash when I am out on my own on a long stretch of road. I guess one friend who enjoys my freakish ride is my best friend Sreela. She tells me "vaa Soorya, namukku doo laa kaanuna vandide bumper idichellakki kondu pokaam" as we fly over a speed breaker.
3. Thick skinned and obstinate– Don’t give 2 hoots about what people think, if I am comfortable with what I am doing. I am pretty arrogant on that level. If I feel I am right doing what I do, I can do anything no matter what an impossible situation it puts me into.
4. Loud Commentaries at the cinema - While watching or reading thrillers, I have this habit of guessing out the culprit, and most often I hit bulls’ eye. Also, while watching Hindi movies, I can predict the next scene or happenings so correctly that my friends swear that I would have seen the movie before. And when I go to the cinemas to watch movies, I cant helping passing comments aloud much to the irritation of companions.., which is something I again enjoy. And there have been so many instances where in I wished to "onu neetti koovan" but the convent bred + my Mom's teachings on decorum and conduct holds me back. ;-)
5. Not demonstrative - I can chatter for hours without touching a subject that preoccupies my mind wholly. This is a deceptive trait I have, because while in a group and socialising, people could think I am right there.., whereas I can be miles away. Also, I could be on a really down state of mind, but still I can gear up for the benefit of friends and cheer away.
6. Cleanliness Freak – Especially when it comes to bathrooms, I cant have anything less than spick and span.

Penalized for My Faith

2006-10-17T21:04:00.000-07:00

I am a normal citizen of India - born and brought up here. My youngest memories, my relations and my friends were all formed here only. Yet, now-a-days I find myself being looked upon as a Pakistani. Why? Because I am Muslim?

I do not support forced singing of "Vande Mataram" because I stand up for a monotheistic faith, and the song has references to godesses and Hindu theology or faith. But anyone who wishes to sing the song should be free to sing it.., if a Muslim friend wishes to sing it of his/her own free will, I will never oppose it. But I do not support force, nor will I sing it. Does that mean I rever India less than an individual who does sing it? Does it make me a lesser Indian?? Is Vande Mataram to be made the yardstick of nationalism or patriotism? When a politician who sells his motherland for 2 pieces of silver sings it, he is proclaimed to be a nationalist. And just because I decline to sing it, am I to be denounced as to love my country any less or to have a lesser pride of its culture and heritage? I feel outraged.

I denounce the Mumbai blasts.. and all blasts and all inhumane actions. I do it as a human and as a Muslim. Which God would demand slaughter of innocent lives? And if a God does demand slaughter of lives, would He be fit for worship?Which faith would propogate violence? And yet, I am a devout Muslim. People ask me about Jihad. They tell me that 9/11 is Jihad, Pakistani militants in Kashmir are doing Jihad. Bull shit!!! Jihad means war in the cause of truth.., and the Prophet teaches that the biggest war is the war that u fight against the falsehood, selfish motives and evil in yourself. When a milkman who is about to adulterate his milk with water, refrains from doing so, even when there is no other witnesses - for the sake of righteousness, for the sake of God, it is the biggest form of Jihad. When ur best friend does something wrong, and u stand up to him and tell him "NO" with all the courage and truth in you, it is Jihad.
War bw nations, bw people when faught for a rightful cause, the people who fight for right are doing Jihad. Indian National Freedom struggle itself is a Jihad. The "Non Co-operation Movement" is a Jihad. Sometimes, physical wars need to be faught for a rightful cause.. but no war can be a Jihad when an innocent life is wiped off. No war.
The rules for war stipulated in Islam are :-
1. Women and children should not be harmed
2. Civillians should be left alone - war is to be faught bw soldiers alone.
3. Trees shouldnt be cut down or harmed.

Allah through Qur'an says " If you save an innocent life, it is equivalent to saving the whole of humanity. And if you kill an innocent life, it is equivalent to killing the whole of humanity".
How then can I, or any muslim for that matter support terrorism.
I keep hearing from people "Not all Muslims are terrorists".
No. What I state emphatically is "No terrorist is a Muslim".

If Ossama Bin Laden is behind 9/11 or any terror attack which has affected an innocent person's life, I can say without a moment's doubt that he is not a muslim inspite of his grand Arabic name and his long beard.

What is happening in Kashmir has nothing to do with Islamic ideologies. It is the war that ensues when a neighbouring nation wishes to annexe the property of another nation, and the resultant insurgence and sponsored rebellion and the presence of the military - and the story of a section of normal people who have lost their freedom to the terror of fire and counter-fire, and have lost the right to lead normal lives. Please do not attribute ISI, or Pakistani militancy to the Islamic ideology.

What happens in Palestine is the struggle of the Palestinians to fight for their land, and their right to live a normal life. It cannot be attributed to Islamic ideology. The cause is right, but the method they have employed is non-Jihadi, because they kill innocent civillians through their retaliation.

I denounce and strongly object to the term "Islamic Terrorism". If an Abdul etc etc.., or an Osama or someone else with an arabic name kills, attribute it to the individual. Not to the faith. If Iran or Afghanisthan people fight, its about Islamic Terrorism. If the US government under Bush goes on fighting and waging wars and killing hundreds and thousands of civillians, why is it not called Christian Terrorism or Bush Terrorism. There is Baj Rang Dal and other outfits that act on extremism, but have u ever heard of Hindu Terrorism.., even when there were many instances of the Baj_Rang-Dal and their likes' inhumane actions? Because, in all these cases, the actions are rightfully attributed to a particular individual or a nation or a sect, not to the theology or ideology.Why the Hell, the double standards!!!

When there was an attack at the IISC campus in Bangalore, I was warned by a friend against wearing my head scarf and venturing out. Why? Was I responsible in any way? Did I contribute to it even at a mental level?? Did I morally support it? Then why me?

At my work place, I find the foreigner lady looking at me uneasily.. coz I have this scarf around me... it proclaims that I am a Muslim. When I resist the compulsory singing of Vande Mataram, I am indirectly likened to a Pakisthani by friends with whom I have studied for 4 yrs, by colleagues who have been around me for months. I am hunted down and victimised. I am outraged.., grievously outraged.

Life’s Story

2006-09-22T03:09:00.000-07:00

Every person, every life has a unique story to tell – which is his or her own life’s story. Two lives even when bonded together will have 2 different stories tho they do converge at some point. Two independent lives will have similarity with each other at some point, but its impossible to find, in this world filled with billions of lives, two equally similar lives and their stories. That’s why each life has its own story to tell even if it doesn’t belong to a millionaire or a scientist. There is a story behind success and a story behind failure, the bold man’s story and the meek man’s, the wise woman’s story and the fool’s, the story of the oppressor and the story of the suppressed. Each story is an outcome of situations, perspectives, innate natures and available options, stimulus and response, and the consequences of the response. From each story emerges victorious, the individual with his warehouse of memories, experience, perspectives, attitudes and goals with the resulting improvisation or deterioration of character, his thoughts, actions and thereby his destiny.

Books are stories in print –biographies, autobiographies, illustrated comics, scientific fiction, novels, classics – the categories are enormous. Stories are not narrated just in books. What is a movie other than a story in motion?? But the movie is defined according to the perceptions and imagination of another person – there is the Count Dracula as when envisaged in the mind of the reader – his form can be moulded according to the infinite dimensions and bounds kept by the imagination of the reader and then there is Christopher Lee , a superb representation, no doubt – but defined and set. Movies are definite entertainers, but they inevitably suffer the disadvantage of crippling a person’s imagination and hence limiting his enjoyment as well. Paintings, poems, dance and music compositions– a majority of the art forms are narrations of emotions, situations – in short, stories. Whereas movies or books or poems are defined narrations – things which are put out in black and white - music for an eg., is an indefinite form of narration .It is a narration to be interpreted by the sensitivity of the listener… I don’t believe any form of art can survive without the basic foundation of a story – people may call it an inspiration.. But isn’t inspiration in itself a story??

The spectators, audience, readers – all get enthralled and touched by novel thoughts and spectacular situations evoked by and narrated in stories. Conan Doyle through Holmes remarks that daily, common life provides the stangest and bizzarest of situations and characters. Life itself is the biggest story narrator and we who live here are often the actors and the audience as well… Ordinary people stoop to low and inhuman actions at times, at times a next door neighbour rises in courage and selflessness…, the hero and the villain and the plot – all live and thrive in this very own routine and daily life.. The only thing required to read of this story is to look beyond and beneath the surface. Friends with whom you hang out, boss with whom you work, beggars whom you cross by on streets are all stories that breathe and live – and mostly, all these stories are equally unknown to us. If one could explore the rich treasures of these stories and possess the ability to learn from them, then one would grow infinitely rich in ones outlook, wisdom and evolve into a finer self.

As my train waits at the railway crossing, I see a bare footed man ,old and weather beaten, close to an isolated green patch of land, by the side of the railway tracks. He stares at the train and brushes his teeth away slowly, perched on a small stone slab as I, hidden by the thick slab of glass , observe him without any reserve. Here I am , late to get to work – with plans and hopes and fears. And there sits this solitary old figure. What does he do for a living; does he have a family; what all hopes does this person harbour within him, to which he clutches as a cliff overthrown man holds on to the last blade of grass? In the same 24 hours that we both are given in a day, what does he think, do, see, speak different from what I think, do, see and speak?? There will be a difference for sure and it is that difference that marks his story different and unique from mine.., likewise from a billion other lives.

Life , I take thee as my teacher and hold thee in my heart..
Prick me, pain me, heal me, liberate me – but teach me of the stories in thy wares.

The Individual and The Thought

2006-06-21T04:15:00.000-07:00

If you were to divide an individual, what would be the fundamental unit that defines the individual?
It would be thought.
Thought makes up attitude and actions.
Thought defines your lifestyle and your life as well.

The easiest way to live in the world is to stop thinking.
Live without a care and live in and for the present moment.
No future - no past.
The phrase from the Lion King Movie -"Ha kuna matata" meaning "no worries" - a problem free life.
But then, there is no guarantee that the life u live in all those years is of any quality or purpose.

To think about oneself and live is hard.
To plan with care the 1st investment, to improvise oneself on ones job, to gain recognition - ambition in one word - all that requires a lot of commitment and planning and toil.
Its not easy.
Then again, the quality of ones lifestyle can be guaranteed at the end of it all... but what about the Quality of the life led, the purpose or sense or meaning of such a life?
Is it calculated to render one total satisfaction???
A majority of people live under the misconception that such a life gives happiness.
The truth is, it gives pleasure and not happiness.
And they are two different things.

To think about the world around you and live is the hardest thing to do.
To think about people living in slums, to think about the people who have to be evacuated because of dam and large infrastructure constructions, to think about the people struck by natural calamities , to think about corruption on a national level and at an individual level, to think about the mindless bloodshed in the stupidity of a sport called hunting, to think about saving water, to think about the environment, to think about street children education and institutions that adhere to the needs of the unprevilleged, to think about communal insecurities and riots which are politically triggered, to think about global terrorism - both state-sponsored and misled militants, about the tyrant whether at a global or a local scale and the suppressed...
I have named very few causes and already it boggles the mind... it suffocates our usually complacent lives.. Doesnt it?
Yet they are part and parcel of the world around us.
Truth is we are living in a world of suffering and each capable individual's passivity contributes to this general suffering.
To think about the world around us and to live is the hardest thing to do.
Because thought always leads to action.
Its not possible to think and then not to act.
But again its not possible for a person to help out in all the causes, but if more people had cared and strived, it would have made life easier for some.
Its past time that someone rephrases the proverb - Live and Let Live..
In today's scenario it should be Live and Help Live.... or we can complete the proverb as Live and Let Live in continued in Misery.
A life which is led for a cause is the life which gives true happiness...