02.02.10
Dance with all your heart
The other day while waiting to collect my order of idli-sambar at the neighbourhood food court, I noticed on the television above the counter the news of Sania Mirza calling off her engagement. Thankfully, the telly was on mute and except for the cheesy graphics I was spared the horror of the reporter’s agony and angst ridden repertoire. Later I came across the news again in the paper and liked what the lady had to say about the break up. Something to the tune of – “We were friends for years, but found ourselves incompatible as fiances”.
Every relationship has its own tale. Like the opening lines of Anna Karenina:
Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way
It often takes a lifetime to realise that relationships do not always work out the way they were expected to. There are the ones which take off like firworks and then fizz out. Or the ones that start burning like a slow fire with wet wood and then glow bright, spreading a comfortable warmth. Often relationships come a full circle and don’t know where to go next. Especially when people have known each other for a considerably long time, that by the time they come together there is nothing new to discover about each other (#notmyquote). They become partnerships or just households. Secure and staid, but without any heartaching emotion. Often leading into territories where dilemmas, questions and justifications of faith raise their heads.
People come together with myriad yearnings – love, compassion, physical bonds, security, freedom, and sometimes even impassioned calculations. Some things work out, some others don’t. The ones that don’t, need attention. And without resolution they stay on, like the throbbing of an age old migraine. Painful, yet ignored by a practised habit. Most often than not (especially here in our country), people carry on with their long-dead relationships for the sake of societal norms, ranging from family pride to the stigma of being homewreckers or just as their own personal choice (a nice post related to this here).
I was drawn into a discussion the other day about two films – When Harry Met Sally and The Notebook. Both were extremely enjoyable, but I had my own reservations about them. The first assumes that men and women can never be friends and eventually ends with the protagonists getting together. While the latter has the female lead returning to her first love, leaving behind a fiance at the last minute. Both were ideal solutions to seemingly complicated situations, which would make most of the audience happy. While Harry & Sally effectively seal the ‘fact’ that other than lovers there is no possibility of men and women to have any kind of non-romantic-but-emotionally-caring-buddies relationship (*), ‘the notebook’ on the other hand dilutes the complications of the quagmire that the lady finds herself in. On one side is her memory of a whirlwind teen romance which was nipped without a closure, and on the other end was a mature romance between two people who have seen more of the world and had connected at a stage of their lives when moving towards a stable and mellow bond would come with the least of regrets. In anycase, the fall guy had hardly spent enough screen time for the audience to feel much sympathy for him and he made way for the first love. I would have liked to know how this couple overcome the awkwardness that generally creeps in due to the time spent apart, or how the lady gets over the guilt of cutting short her second relationship that must have been at an extremely intimate state (perhaps the book deals with it better). Or how Harry & Sally settled household matters and other mundane stuff. Well, these are perhaps the least of the worries that cinegoers would like to indulge in.
People shape their perpectives from what they see around them and then nurture them with their own experiences. Cinema is a primary source for a lot of young people to form their opinions of ideal relationships. And these mostly end up in monochrome. Binaries of extremes, that churn out moony eyed expectations. Imho, relationships have so many vivid and nested shades. Even when things seem to have come to a stop, there are the hidden undercurrents that makes it easier to share and care for each other. Some call it habit. Probably, it is also a mix of guilt-ridden sense of responsibilty that one is unlikely to desecrate. However, these shades are generally not visible, unless a person shares a relationship into a considerable depth. It is unfortunate that the monochrome visions often miss these lines in between and by the time they figure it out, the depth sucks them in. A possible solution here would perhaps include widening the horizons from personal experience, but then that brings with it, its own set of complications. And honestly, I don’t think our society is liberal enough (not just in patches, but entirely) yet to handle such lifestyle changes.
Moving on, these two lines from the song ‘Uff- yeh ada’ (Karthik Calling Karthik) have stuck into my head.
pyar agar hai mujhse pyar jataa ke naach
jaan-o-dil jo hai teri mujhpe luta ke naach
Roughly translated they read – if you have love for me in then show it while you dance, give all you have to it while you dance. I believe this is true for every kind of relationship – not just romantic ones. Whatever you feel in your heart for a person (friend, lover, sibling) don’t hold any of it back and give all it takes to make it honest and worthwhile.
* apparently if it hurts to share a friend then its definitely not friendship any more… #notmyquote, but that was a convincing argument during the discussion that can perhaps measure when people can no longer be ‘just friends’ and have moved onto the next stage.
01.27.10
Red Hot Chili Peppers – Under the bridge
This was playing in my head since morning….
Sometimes I feel
Like I don’t have a partner
Sometimes I feel
Like my only friend
Is the city I live in
The city of angels
Lonely as I am
Together we cry
I drive on her streets
‘Cause she’s my companion
I walk through her hills
‘Cause she knows who I am
She sees my good deeds
And she kisses me windy
I never worry
Now that is a lie
I don’t ever want to feel
Like I did that day
Take me to the place I love
Take me all the way
It’s hard to believe
That there’s nobody out there
It’s hard to believe
That I’m all alone
At least I have her love
The city she loves me
Lonely as I am
Together we cry
I don’t ever want to feel
Like I did that day
Take me to the place I love
Take me all that way
Under the bridge downtown
Is where I drew some blood
Under the bridge downtown
I could not get enough
Under the bridge downtown
Forgot about my love
Under the bridge downtown
I gave my life away
01.21.10
Soldiers of Serenity
Spending one’s early youth in a place like Kolkata, brings with it an undeniable share of staidness. Which unfortunately does not kick into realisation until long after, especially until the time one decides to move out of the city. And when it does, it comes with the added eye-opener of deprivation and time lost forever. Everyone I went to school/college with, or played with in the evening, led a more or less similar lifestyle. No one did anything out of the ordinary. Depending upon the age, people would be going to an appropriate educational institute, play or have long chat sessions with neighbourhood friends, go to some nearby touristy place once a year with the family, wait for Durga puja all year long, eat a cake on Christmas day and generally take an imprint of the whole year and paste it over as the template for the next one on New Year’s day. Now that I look back on all those years spent and share stories from the past with friends from other parts of the country, its easy to mark the diffs.
Anyways, what brought me to this post was a general chat earlier about yearnings. And the sometimes unsatiable longing to chase after unknown bearings. I remember my parents were pretty happy that I was not a fussy child. What probably they or even I, did not realise is that I was unaware of things to ‘fuss’ about. During the aforementioned ill-spent years,there were no hills to trek up to, no bikes to ride around, no street theatres to play a drum in or walk around aimlessly discovering the streets of a city. However, unlike most of my other friends, I used to read. Mostly about escapades. By normal people in their daily life. Yet, they were still stories, because I could never reconcile these settings with what I saw around me.
I moved out of home at a considerably late age. And walked straight into a reality check. The fantasy world from the books did not seem so fantastic after all. It was pretty much around me. One just had to jump on to the bandwagon. The bandwagon can lead to the known territory or the wide unknown expanse. Probably bucket lists are drawn up from the former (I have mine). Yearnings are the free baggage that comes with it all. Especially, when the numbers from the lost time/age keep poking.
On the other hand, there are the lucky people who don’t need to try too hard. They gather the berries from the roadside as they trudge along and fill their baskets. And I find a serenity around them. Like a floating kite. Calm. In peace. High above the mortal evils. Never ruffled by cravings and satiated by whatever comes their way. They can allow themselves (often unknowingly) the privilege to make choices and draw limits and stick to them. The makings of a monk perhaps.
Probably that is a reason, why we end up in conflict after our conversations. My restlessness is beyond their comprehension. I chase any microscopic will-o-wisp that holds within itself an opportunity to lead me onto my yearned path. Most of the time, the chase ends in failure. It takes along with it the resolve to chase on. Only to make me return back to the staid waters, with a whirlpool running within the dark hidden depths. A chimera of hope lives on. It raises it head from time to time, with wicked intentions. To make people like us go on a well-trodden path yet again, and then laugh the last laugh when we falter and fail.
01.20.10
Compiz Translation Bugs
While searching around for some related stuff, I came across the Bengali India (bn_IN) Translation for compiz. Gave a hurried look through the file and came across some bits and pieces, which imho may need a relook from the translator/reviewer.
Some examples here:
en: “Stick”
bn_IN: “চেটে যাক”
retranslated en: “Let it lick”
en: “Unstick”
bn_IN: “না চাটবে না”
retranslated en: “No, it won’t be licked”
en: “Make Above”
bn_IN: “উপরে আনোন”
en: “Forcing this application to quit will cause you to lose any unsaved changes.”
bn_IN: “এপ্লিকেছন টি যোরকরে বন্ধ করতে হবে আর আপনার সকল unsaved হারাটে হবে |”
etc. etc.
Most of the strings in these files are general terms related to desktop graphics, and can be easily fixed. So if the compiz translators need a hand, then do feel free to holler around here.
01.06.10
New meme – Best photo of 2009
In response to the new meme started by the ever enthusiastic* Kushal, here is my personal favourite from 2009:
It was taken at the Tugun beach in Gold Coast, Qld, Australia. The sun was very bright and makes it overexposed. It was later that I noticed Parag’s shadow on the sand and even later, that the horizon is inclined. Beaches are amongst my most favourite places, especially for the wide open expanse of the sea and the solitude. It all comes together in this picture.
* this is a new meme that has started abruptly through twitter/IRC, post this tweet from Kushal.
01.04.10
Someone close went away (my daddy never uses the ‘d’ word, its always a ‘going’) yesterday. Another guardian angel in the sky.
01.02.10
2010
[Warning: Long post and very little work related observations.]
First up, wishing everyone a New Year filled with lots of hope, happiness and peace of mind.
The year 2009 had started like any other groggy winter morning. The earlier evening a few of us had walked down amidst the heavy traffic to Koregaon Park after work, in search of a place to eat out. After being turned down from a few of the shiny places, we found one small little neat place to perch ourselves, with Chinese food, conversation and chaos outside on the streets. I haven’t been blogging much during the year, but there have been many occasions which perhaps I would have liked to document. I picked up a few and just to make it a little fun, added a few pictures. Here goes.
Thanks to Ramky, a few weeks into the New Year we landed at Goa for a long weekend. The cottage was right next to the beach at Calangute and we even found a beach shack nearby, where we headed each morning for breakfast. After endless seafood, sunsets and aimless walking around, on the last day we simply sat around and lazed in the shade of the shack. This little sail boat passed us by a couple of times.
There were quite a few ‘firsts’ for me this year. I traveled on the longest flight of my life (~16 hours) and found myself in another country. Australia. The skies were the brighest shade of blue that I had seen in a long time. I returned with a first hand view of an alternative way the machinery of daily life goes on. Also, I got to meet many wonderful people whom I have known for a long time now. The picture here has been taken from the Kurilpa Bridge on the Brisbane River and on the left are the skyscrapers of the Central Business District of Brisbane.
During the annual Autumn festival of Durga Puja, we visited the family home in Guwahati and the place which was my first home, Shillong. It was an potpourri of varied emotions ranging from ecstasy to dejection. Its all here. However, I am sure about one thing now: there are many places where I can trace my roots to, but none of them can ever be called a hometown.
Our home-base Pune is not very far away from Aurangabad, which is the gateway to the World Herigate Sites of Ellora and Ajanta caves. Due to general laziness, lack of time, and other blah blah excuses we never got around to visit them. Enter Piyush Yaduvanshi – master travel planner. A weekend plan was put together and off we went in a shiny black car, driving through lush green open spaces dotted with sunflower fields and windmills. At some places, the monsoon beat down at us. First stop was Ellora and the majestic Kailash temple (picture on the left), carved out from a single rock. It is hard to even imagine how this structure was slowly etched out by 6 generation of artisans. Most of the caves in Ajanta were adorned with murals, resplendent with the bright colours that were inked in 2000 years ago (picture on the right). The others have sculptures cut out of the rock.. notable among them is of the Buddha in a sleeping posture.
Sometime during the year, cia.vc said that I had made 2000 commits. yay!
After ages of procrastination, I got myself a new bicycle this year. Along with it came two trainers (pictures above). I am yet to muster enough courage to venture out into main street traffic, but every time I cycle around by myself I can hear two voices in my head egging me on. Whats more, I earned two wonderful friends in the process.
The year is dotted with the many things that kept happening during each of the 365 days. The maniacal work days, finding new craziness for the weekends, late night adventures with cupboards and racks stuck in stairwells (a story for some other time), insightful chats over cups of tea, experiments with food, serious battles over IPL loyalty, new furniture, OS releases, first day shows at movies, et al. Amidst everything its the wonderful people around who keep us grounded, an alternate family bonded by our own making and miles away from home.
Well, thats how 2009 ended for me.
As I sign off this post, the 2nd day of 2010 has already begun. Another cycle of endless opportunities and to-do lists begin. The wishes have been passed around and received, now for the serious work to bring home the bacon. (Like the guy in this picture; clicky here for the details.) And amidst it all there are the many demons to slay and choices to make. Sometimes its a choice between insanity and evanescence.
12.28.09
Randomness
Random weekday >20 years back:
Hear a faint yell in my sleep. One parent takes away the quilt and wakes me up. Run to the top of the stairs to soak in a little sun. Shower and put on the school uniform. Butter+Rice stuffed amidst massive confusion. Satchel on, walk to school with daddy (going further on to work). Study study. At lunch time, flip open the lunch box to dig into the goodies mommy packed in…play…study study. School over, look for mommy and then walk back home. Another round of yells and food stuffed in. Get dressed and off to play outside. Spot daddy returning and skip back home. Do homework. Read a story book while listening to songs and news on AIR Shillong. Dinner. Off to bed. Depending upon the weather, a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice would fit in somewhere during the day. If it was vacation time, then add dolls, visits to mamabari (maternal uncle’s home), music from the record player (mostly bengali children’s song by Antara Choudhury) and arithmetic homework from dad.
Random weekday now:
Drag myself out from bed after turning off the alarm atleast twice. Check around the house a bit, and attend to the maid. Rush through shower. Make breakfast and pack lunch boxes. Go to work. Work+work+meet folks around+endless cups of green tea. Sometime in between stuff in the lunch. Work+work+other randomness. Return home… kick off shoes and get busy with dinner. Dinner done, finish pending work, study, read a bit and off to bed after calling daddy. Again, depending upon the situation, there could be additional time spent with a bunch of files that read ‘tax’ ‘investment’ etc.
There are days when I am sick, and bushed and am really tired of being a grown up and just want to go back to the old times, when you could just cry and go to mummy and daddy to make things alright. I was trying to put together the daily routine of various kinds of random days from my childhood and now. Eventually I ended up with only a weekday and just felt happy reading this well written post by Chandni.
This is just a random little post, does’nt mean much except that I needed to rant a bit. The more time you spend on this earth things just keep getting complicated, and the safe havens start vanishing faster. As a young aunt of mine says… the number of older folks who cherish and care for us is coming down (আমাদের আদর করার লোক কমে যাচ্ছে রে).
This a picture of ক্ষীরের সন্দেশ (Khirer sandesh) made by my aunt when we visited the family home in guwahati. This used to be made regularly at home earlier (a very complicated and time consuming process), but this time it was probably the first time in 3 years that I got to taste some.
12.14.09
Saware
Sometimes the cupboards need a little shake and treasures stumble out. Found one such last evening. Have been listening to this beautiful song since morning.
Teri Justajoo, Sawaare – Roop Kumar Rathod.
Teri Justajoo… Teri Justajoo…
Saaware Saaware Saaware… [2]
Tere Bin Suni Suni Hai Akhiya
Tere Bin Lamha Lamha Hai Sadiya
Soona Soona Jahaan Laage Re
Saaware Saaware Saaware… [2]
Teri Justjoo…Teri Justjoo…
Tu Mere Dil ki Duwaa
Tu Hi Meri Har Kushi
Shamil Hai Tu Rooh Mein
Tu Hi Meri Zindagi
Teri Yadoon Ka Sawaan Hai
Pyasi Pyasi Yeh Dadkhan Hai
Bas Tu Nazar Aayere..
Saaware Saaware Saaware…[2]
Saiyyaro Sey.. Raat Bhar,
Karte Hai Hum Guftagu
Teri Justajoo..
Armaano Ki Bheed Mein,
Teri Hi Hain Justajoo..
Sooni Sooni Se Hasrath Hain,
Kaise Teri Mohabath Hai
Kuch Na Muje Bhayere
Saaware Saaware Saaware…[2]
Tere Bin Sooni Sooni Hai Akhiya
Tere Bin Lamha Lamha Hai Sadiya
Soona Soona Jahaan Laage Re
Saaware Saaware Saaware…[2]
11.30.09
Day 10 and a round up
During the earlier stop at Dubai, I had done some bits of window shopping and evidently nothing on sale was really up my alley. I had a few shopping lists for dark chocolates etc. and so I did get a bit of stuff from the candy stores. I was pretty zapped due to the insufficient sleep in the earlier flight and very soon I was perched near the departure gate and curled up in the chair. The flight was announced soon after and by the time the other passengers trooped in, it resembled a domestic Indian flight. Nearly everyone was a desi, and most of them speaking Gujarati. Even the announcements in the flight were in Hindi.
This time I got a window seat and while taking off tried to crane my neck to spot any of the Dubai hot spots like the Burj hotel or any of those artificial islands. Sadly nothing, but whatever was down there looked straight out of a town-planner’s desk. Beautiful and wide highways, neat neighbourhoods and some grand villas, with patches of green lawns and swimming pools, amidst the brown desert dust. We were flying over the sea most of the time and sometime later the map showed us the southern coast of Gujarat. Outside, it looked like a faint stretch of land. The inflight entertainment did not offer much choice this time and both me and Ankit settled on watching ‘Kambakkht Isqh’ on one of the channels (its too cheesy). With really thick clouds, landing at Mumbai was pretty turbulent. The stewardess was collecting headphones then and nearly fell down on the aisle when we hit a rough patch. Anyways we finally made it in one piece.. plane, luggage, us et al. With nothing to declare, we were out of Immigration and Customs soon and on the way to Pune in another 20 minutes. Reached home sometime around 7 in the evening to some piping hot dinner.
This trip was special because it was the first time that I traveled outside the country. And to a place which was beckoning for a long time now. Especially, the names and some voices with which I have made connections over the past half-decade. When the travel itinery was shown to me, I nearly lost sleep looking at the 2 long hauls of 14 hours. (To be honest, the last time I genuinely enjoyed flying was at the age of 9. Those days we used to travel in teeny tiny Donear planes run by Vayudoot and I was unconcerned about the turbulent North-East Indian skies. ) Well, it was’nt so bad at all. Rather it was pretty good. Perhaps, if I have to travel such long distances again, I would rather prefer a non-stop flight that takes me as much near to my destination as possible. Maybe it might take a few reassuring warm phone-calls from friends to build up the courage, but yep its not scary anymore
We stopped over at Dubai (I know, I know its the wrong direction… ) both times. As luck would have it, the first thing I notice as I step out of the plane is an Airbus A380! Oh boy… its huge. To be honest, I found the Dubai airport more like a super-sized mall than an airport terminal. And secondly, IMHO, airports which are hubs for transit passengers should have movie theatres and more restrooms. There are snaking queues inside the restrooms, thankfully they are extremely clean and organized. However, once inside a lounge through the departure gate, the crowds thin down and the rest rooms are less occupied. Anyways, other than these gripes, spending time at Dubai was not much of a problem. I put on my music player (with Tum Mile on a loop.. ) and walked around the terminal checking out the glo-signs of the famous brands from all over the world. The most colourful was the Haagen Dazs parlour. Also for the first time I saw a Starbucks coffee shop and an elegant restaurant with Caviar on its breakfast menu!
Moving on to Brisbane, if there was one thing I was allowed to carry back home in its entirety, it would have been a coffee shop. I just fell in love with all the places we used to frequent for our breakfast. The people behind the counters were friendly, the food always great and affordable. The streets are beautiful, clean and there are hardly any crowds that one has to push through. Although the deserted streets were a bit uncomfortable, but the business district and the mall areas had people all around. Traffic was disciplined, pedestrian crossings were marked and even for an out-of-towner like me it was hardly any trouble getting around.
Which brings me to the wonderful people that I met during those 7 heavenly days. My workplace is multi-cultural and our team even more so. I met people from more than 20 countries, across continents. Due to the upcoming holiday season, a lot of people were planning trips back home. And ‘Home’ meant places like New Zealand, Colombia, France, Brazil, Japan, everywhere. So Leticia told us her plans about going to the Carnival at Rio and watching it from one of the ‘boxes’. It sounded like out of a dream, I could not believe that I was listening to someone talking about *The Carnival*, that I have only gotten to know through magazines and television and is always half a world away. There were travel plans being discussed about the pros and cons of taking a route via USA or Chile to Colombia. Some good-natured Aussie vs Kiwi jokes also floated around. Its intriguing how sometimes the setting for a conversation remains the same everywhere, but the elements within take them to a wider horizon. Hedda, my colleague from Germany was telling us how her mother made syrup from ripe Elderberries. It reminded me of the many conversations about pickle and chutney making we have during lunchtime back home. Most of these people have traveled across various countries and always have wonderful stories to tell. Shall miss them all 
Everyday of that week was a revelation. There were new things to see and hear, nuances of a new culture to understand, and lifestyle lessons to learn. Urban living is mostly similar to what we have back home and it just takes one to keep an attentive eye out and learn the things that work differently. In Australia, it was an easier culture to blend in, lets see how Europe treats me. Thats not planned for anytime soon, but yeah sometime before I kick the bucket.
p.s. Considering its summer time in the southern hemisphere, this year I actually got to see Summer twice… with mangoes and gulmohurs and the news of heatwaves…the total works!
