The Rosary

Someone equated my being an atheist with being faithless. In response I just remembered these lines by a Sufi saint

'The people I love are God for me. They are the beads of my rosary. Just seeing them is like turning the beads, like praying.'

--

किसी ने मुझ से पूछा कि अगर तुम नास्तिक हो तो क्या किसी में भी विश्वास नहीं रखते? तो जवाब में एक सूफी की कही ये पंक्तियाँ याद आ गई -

"मै जिनसे प्यार करता हूँ, वो ही मेरे रब हैं। वो ही मेरी तस्वी के दाने हैं. बस निगाहों में फिरते रहते हैं, इबादत होती रहती है."

Green

... from Blue

A night, passes and then a day.
The harsh stinging sun burns his skin.
His lips are cracked, like a dried lake bed.
On this little plank he drifts.

Another dawn breaks and brings with it a sliver of green
On this little plank he drifts
With the current he drifts
Past the island he drifts.....

Desire

While describing the idea of Buddhism in his monumental book (and TV series) - the Story of India; the British historian Michael Wood writes - "The idea is deceptively simple. The human condition, by its very nature entails suffering. Suffering is caused by the human ego, by desire, clinging, attachment and greed. Humanity can find tranquility only by removing attachments that are at the root of all human unhappiness, anxiety and aggression. The way to liberation is not through worship of a god (or anything else), but by becoming a fully autonomous and compassionate human being......

..... the implication of the Buddha's logic is that even belief in god is itself a form of human desire and clinging, a product of ego. Another cause of suffering in that it prevents a person from becoming an autonomous and free human being. This was nothing less than a rebellion against history."

As the wheels of time rolled by, Buddha and his thoughts were slowly overtaken by subsequent religious upheavals - whether they be Hindu, Islamic or otherwise in origin. A few thousand years later, another set of mystics happened to come by. Like the Buddha, they too roamed from place to place, expounding nothing but love. These were the Sufis as the world knows them today and they too were labelled rebels, radicals, infidels and what not....

But pray read these lines by one of them, Bulleh Shah...

Makke Geyan Gal Mukdi Nahi , Bhawein Sau Sau Jumme Padh Aayie

Ganga Geyan Gal Mukdi Nahi, Bhawein Sau Sau Gote Khaiye

Gaya Geyan Gal Mukdi Nahi, Bhawein Sau Sau Pund Padhaiye

Bulleh Shah Gal Ta-iyon Mukdi, Jadon Mainy Dilon Gawaiye

A hundred prayers at Mecca, a hundred dips in the Ganga or a hundred rituals at Gaya will get you God. Bulleh Shah, you will truly attain Him, only him you lose all desire for Him

Sir Te Topi, Bhawein Neeyat Khoti, Laina Ki topi Sir Dhar Ke

Tasbeeh Phiri, par Dil Na Phireya, Laina Ki Tasbeeh Hath Phad Ke

Bahron Dhoye Lattan Mode, Te Andar Rahi Paleeti

Bulleya, Jhaag Bina Dudh Nahi Jamna, Bhawein Laal Howe Kar Kar Ke

A prayer cap on your head is no good, nor is a rosary. What's the point of washing yourself - when your dirty from inside. To truly attain him, clean yourself from or it'll just be like trying to curdle milk without acid.

Bulleya Chal Othe Chaliye, Jitthe Rainde Saare Anne

Na Koi Saadi Zaat Pehchane, Te Na Koi Saanu Manne

Bulleh Shah, lets go to a place where everyone is blind

Only then will someone take you for who you are without wondering about your caste or religion

In a nutshell, the only desire we should retain is the desire to lose everything. Only then will we gain everything. But that's too hard, isn't it?

The baby steps....

It's close to midnight, and sleep is far far away. There is a palpable tension in the air, an apprehension. My stomach is churning with excitement.

Tomorrow morning, I go for my first photography assignment since going solo. The memories of the desk job have been left behind.

Hello world... here I come!

Vodka fuelled post #3

Continued from...

The Stormtrooper zaps me with a cattled prod and I black out...

My head bumps against something cold and hard, jolting me to my senses. I open my eyes and I realize I can't see anything, my eyes are blindfolded it seems. The engine noise tells me I'm in a diesel truck of some sort, the suspension quality confirms it.

I can smell people next to me, the stench of sweat, grime and excreta is too obvious. However, no one is talking. Then, we stop and guttural voices in a strange tongue mutter something that can only be an order. A hard rifle butt to the sternum clears any doubts that I might have had.

We're bundled off the truck, hitting the ground like a sack of potatoes. Another butt tells us we're supposed to be on our feet. Then, our blindfolds are taken off and the midday sun hits like a freight train. As the eyes slowly begin to take in the scene, the smell begins to register its presence. It's no foul stench, but it ain't sweet either. It's the smell of decay mixed with sweat.

We're at what seems like an open cast mine. And indeed it is one, but it isn't one where one you see earthmovers the size of houses and dumpers of Biblical proportions. It's just full of people as far as the eye can see.

"What the fuck is this", I ask the guard who seems like an Androidesque version of an SS Oberleutenant? Another rifle butt and a barked reply - "You wanted progress? Here, have it!"

"But progress is a verb, an adjective I cry". He laughs and says "Progress, my friend.... is Unobtanium."

Time to fly

There are too many feelings running through me right now. I have put in my papers at my current employers'. The plan is simple... to strike it out on my own. Apprehension sends shivers down my spine, so does excitement. There are far too many things that I want to do, at the same time the reminder of earning a living rings at the back of my head. Will I be able.... won't I? I don't know.....

But I want to find out... THAT I think what is important right now.

Wish me luck!

See you on the other side........... Soon

Vodka Fuelled Post #2

... from Vodka fuelled post #1

In a flash the DeLorean disapppeared, and I was left alone again in the darkness. In the distance though I could see the lights of vehicles climbing the ghats. The first one of them, an eighteen wheeler with Rajasthan number plates came close and I hailed it. The driver, a burly chap asked "Kathe Jano Sai?"

"Jitni door tame jaa riyo saa", to wherever you may be going - I answered. He motioned me to hop in and told me he was going as far as Lohegaon - delivering spares to the Indian Air Force base. It wasn't long that we got there, the lanky chap at the gate asked for my papers. I had none on my person, but magically, the driver produced some for me - anointing me as his helper. The guard let us in, pointing towards the hangars where we were to deliver. As we go there, a posse of uniformed airmen surrounded us and quickly unloaded the truck.

As they got on with their job, I asked for the way towards the toilet. Reaching there, I unzipped and got on with the job, with a smart looking chap in the next stall. We got talking and found out that his family hailed from the same district as mine - though it was in Pakistan now. Out of the blue he asked me, if I wanted a ride in his plane? "Which plane" I asked, hoping for a troop transport to take me to wherever they may be going.

It turned out, that he flew the Sukhoi Su-30 and I was strapped to the back seat in G-suit. As we took off, he positioned the sleek craft into a steep climb and minutes later, we were at the edge of the atmosphere. "Wanna see what this baby can do?", he asked and I mumbled something into the intercom. Even before I had finished, we were in a steep dive and then he pulled the nose sharply upward almost causing the plane to stall - as we dropped freely, he powered the afterburners to regain control. Little did I realise, it was the Pugachev's Cobra maneuver. The afterburners refused to kick in and we were dropping altitude sharply. "Eject .... eject" was all I could hear in my earpiece as I pulled the handle. The rocket powered zero zero ejection seat hurled me from nought to 60 in less than a second, but not before my head hit the canopy brace on my way out.

I blacked out.

I opened my eyes, only to find a curious Stormtrooper examining my G-suit intently. It wasn't long before he pronounced to his mates - "this is not the droid we're looking for...."

continued here....

Vodka fuelled post #1

It is a warm summer night, so still that the driest of leaves falls to the ground like a ball of lead. The night is quiet, even the dogs find it tiresome to utter a bark. I step out of the station on to the unlit road, walk those hundred paces to the main road - no light here either.

I wait by the side of the road, maybe for a bus. An hour passes, no sign of anything. The loudest thing I heard was the pop of the marijuana seeds in my 5 rupee joint. They burst with a crackle, millimeters away from my eye. Then, I think a hear a faint whine, it grows louder with each passing second. Sounds like a V8, my brain says. The glow of headlamps climbs the gradient and with a whoosh THE DeLorean stops right in front of me.

"How far to 1985?", Dr. Emmet Brown with his frazzled mane asks loudly? "Not very far", I say. "Just that there ain't enough road down here to take you to 88." He is dejected. "But if you were to drop me along the way to 1996, I can sure find you some."

"Hop on laddie", he beams and we're off.

Guiding him through the narrow alleys of Lonavla, I lead him on to the Expressway. "Now when did you Injuns come up with these?" I just glare at him as the speed clock touches 88. The loudest sound a man can ever hear, the whitest white a man can ever see assault my senses.

I open my stinging eyes, my ringing ears. He opens the door and stares at me dumbly, that's my cue to get off perhaps. I do so, pointing the way to NH-4, "you can hit 88 again doc, provided you steer clear of the Tata 1210s". He nods, the gullwing doors close and he's gone in a flash.

"This doesn't look familar", I say to myself. "Of course, it doesn't you idiot - you were never here then, sorry now.... no I mean then... whatever!"

to be contd....

Blue

from White....

And then the invisible force holding him lets go....

He drops, miles below... gravity accelerating him

Hitting the surface with a flash, the deeps pull him

The cold water jolting him out of his daze

Struggling, he bobs to the surface... foam and surface feel like stinging slaps

He sees a plank and grabs it

The cold water turning his veins blue....

White

From Red

His patchy sleep is broken by the silence

The birds, the crickets, the rats nowhere to be heard

And then the wind starts howling, picking up with each passing moment

The boards start rattling.... violently and then they crack

He is lifted up bodily, along with the roof and everything else

Swirling, tumbling into the vortex of the twister

The howl shatters his eardrums, and then everything is silent

He rises, rises straight through the clouds and then there is a blinding flash

Everything goes white.........

.... Blue

Stuck

I am on a road that goes nowhere with a map that has no lines. My compass has no needle and my GPS has no signal. The sky is clouded and the stars cannot be seen. There is no sun, nor the moon. It's not a nice place to be in...

Zero the Hero

I know a man called Zero... he says he wants nothing and everything. As much as I know him, he seems to be getting nothing more than anything these days.

He's always been restless, but now his restlessness grows more than ever. I sense a purpose as much as I sense floundering. I sense fear, as much as I sense defiance.

Waver not my friend, as this too shall pass. For in the ashes of a forest fire, sprout the seeds of hope. Seeds that bloom with the first sprinkle of monsoon. The monsoon may be late, sometimes by a few years even. But it does come. It shall come for you too and that I can promise.

Waver not my friend, though you may still be Zero. Yet you are my Hero.

Right now I want to

be standing on the the door of a train with a coffee and a cigarette in hand

sit on the edge of a mountain with my feet dangling off the edge

be on a motorcycle on a lonely mountain road

be in my bed sleeping

swim with the sharks

make a meal for my wife and watch movies on dvd with her

go to disneyland

go on a holiday with my wife once again

go on a holiday with my parents once again

play hockey with my buddies

resign from this desk job of mine

You only live twice

" You only live twice: Once when you're born

And once when you look death in the face.”

-- Epigraph from 'You Only Live Twice' by Ian Fleming

As a sportsman, climber and insane driver I've had several moments where my life flashed past me in a second as I came tantalisingly close to snuffing myself out. At the same time, these very moments have been the pinnacle of my thrill-seeker alter ago. However, there was one moment.... nay 3 days when I stared death constantly in its face and have lived to tell the tale.

Caught in a snowstorm, 200m short of the summit, the three of us sought refuge underneath an overhang that provided some refuge from the blowing snow and howling wind. Between us, we had a couple of bars of chocolate and stories of cars, girls and travels that kept us going. The rest of the climbing party had no option but to leave us to our fate and retreat to the comfort of their tents, their camp meals and a sleeping bag.

Three days later, we staggered our way back, exhausted, numb, frostbitten and almost dead but yet alive. That day I vowed, I would live each day as if it were my last, and more so today since the two others NK and VM are not there anymore.

There are other ways to die as well.........

Red

from Black

And then there is light, a shaft through the crack in the boards
Moments from life swirl in front of his eyes like the dust particles in the light
His face lights up in hope that maybe someone still remembers him
Maybe someone still knows that he lives
But then the car rounds the bend, leaving behind a fading red glow..

... white

Black

Darkness falls as the wind picks up, winding its way through the broken windows.

Memories in faded ink on yellow paper get rustled...

The empty cans of beer in the corner clatter about, stirring the crumpled man on the floor...

There is no light, there never was, just a black winter night...

The throbbing pain in his head needs some balm,

He gets up... falls, tries again to no avail... it's just beyond him now

So he lies there, waiting for the morrow or the next

Maybe someone will come, maybe just...

.... Red

Banging noises like someone is exploding a series of diwali bombs in a utensil shop..
Sounds like a Pink Floyd song about to break loose....
A space shuttle about to take off...
A doped out bum in a death metal concert...
The Sholay scene when Sachin's body enters Ramgarh on horseback....
A train on metal sleepers....

That's what an MRI scan is like....

my brain still works fine though

The mask

Sometimes you wonder who you really are? What the world thinks you to be or the person you're pretending to be? A mask is convenient, but does the mirror ever lie?

Verbs

Awake... with the stars still in the sky, the wind rustling in the woods

Sleep... when the world is awake, sleep when you want

Breathe... breathe in the spirit of your own existance

Exhale... all that is past, the useless, the worthless

Live... for the promise of tomorrow is as true as the tooth fairy

Die... die you must, because to live is to die

Love... love all that you want for that's the only thing in the world that's free

Hate... hate all that you want to hate, who's stopping you?

Surmise... if what you want is really what you need

Realize... that you alone can choose where you go from here

We the virus

From The Matrix (1999)

"I'd like to share a revelation that I've had during my time here. It came to me when I tried to classify your species and I realized that you're not actually mammals.

Every mammal on this planet instinctively develops a natural equilibrium with the surrounding environment but you humans do not. You move to an area and you multiply and multiply until every natural resource is consumed and the only way you can survive is to spread to another area. There is another organism on this planet that follows the same pattern. Do you know what it is? A virus.

Human beings are a disease, a cancer of this planet."

--

Guess what, the more I think on these lines, the more true it seems.... isn't it?