Saturday, July 08, 2006

A lake side night drive on my motorbike, I reach the point of darkness near Fateh Sagar. I sit and reflect on that enigmatic entity sometimes called life, and other times referred to as anda ka bhujiya. I spend sometime near the lake, looking at the mooon's reflection along with the lapping sound made by the water, truly calming. Then I decide to encircle the lake, with trails of my bike. I reach a turn and I see this large gathering of donkeys, and some women moving them along, with some children seated on teh donkeys. I continue and I realize that this is a moving village of REBARI'S, the nomadic people of rajasthan. They have their livestock, and those waistcoats, with their women decorated, their beds placed on the camels. We park teh motorbike and watch the animals passing by, the chief comes and asks us the esasiest way. He is a tall man with a large moustache. Its all good. We look at these nomadic people , travelling in teh night time, taying away from that confusing mess that refuses to accept them, and places them in the margin. I see us all trying to find their promised land. Tehse nomads have made the whole earth as their promised land. They dont search for better pastures. Everything will do. They must survive amnd with beautiful smils, and traditions that amaze us.

I pass them and wake up the next morning, hoping to see them again, and decide to go the nearby lake, where they are heading. We reach there, and the lake is pristine with mist coming out, quite contrary from the picture of RAjsthan we see. We climb on top of the hill nearby, the beauty of the land amazes me, and I watch the people uniting under us. The wind is moving my body, and my mind is flowing into this abyss of unintended intentions. It is all fluid, and the world is changing. It is all good. hope we can see the fun times, more like this, less like lost chances, because something always comes up. Life allows u permutations and combinations, and choose the best path, hoping to find what those essential beings called the Rebaris have so easily accomplished. We must survive and realize that teh quest for teh perfect land is not a quest byut a realization that this world we inhabit is perfect!!!

Tuesday, July 04, 2006


I reached the bhil basti that is part of the village of kalatriya in the khokhar kheda panchayat near Bhim. Now, this is a very poor section of this area, with absolutely no income generation mechanisms. They pretty much chill with their quart of desi, and enjoylife, voting people who make lame promises. So, I reached this place and I met a local bhil guy, whose favorite word was 'formula', meaning everything had a formula, and so I went with him through his village, with the small huts all over the place and no large pakka houses. Just simple poor man's hits, quite compact, but clearly insinuating poverty, extreme poverty.
The guy told me that the PWD people had pulled out a hand pump. So, I decided that I needed to take a picture of the broken hand pump, because it was evidence of persecution. I told him that he intended to take a picture. He stared at me for a second, and then suddenly yelled at the top of his voice, and ran around the basti calling everyone, telling them to get out near the hand pump. I was amazed. They all gathered near the handpump, small children, women, old people, everyone with a goofy grin. I smiled, and they smiled too. Then he arranged them, and suddenly he told me to stop. An old man, who was the oldest guy around was slowl;y walking towards the area, and was eager to be part of the fun. he tottered on his walkin stick, and reached the hand pump, and squatted in front of the people. They were ready for the picture. The smiles were beautiful, with pretty faces and stiff moustaches, grins all around...It was surreal...maybe I should show you the picture sometime.

Saturday, June 24, 2006

The Pictures that creep into my head can be rather surprising at times, creating weird results in my behaviour, annoying people and sometimes amazing them. In one of those bouts of hallucination, I endeavoured to vision a peaceful life, and then how society came and clenched its fists, breaking that wonderful perfect existence, so well formulated. It was a tragedy.

The SBI lawns at Hindu College with a lot of young students, lying down walking talking, expressing themselves, with soft music playing in the background. The phase of true connection. The silent contacts being made, no animosity, just pure consciousness expressing itself, perfecting the compromise. It felt brilliant. There were people sitting and discussing aesthetics and logic. There were people who sat toghether and played some beautiful music. The feeling that degrees had lost their value created a level playing field, where the compromise of talents was brilliant. No one was good or bad. There was a feeling of true bonding. it was surreal. But, then the word surreal was within the realm of the realm.

Then there was this jarring sound, and you could see that the spell or the world was melting away, and being vitiated by the 'badness', the levels, the diversity and insane selfishness. A group of policemen came running into the SBi lawns and charge with batons, beating everyone, letting them know that perfection was never going to be there. There were cries, and the tragedy was being unfolded before reality. Surrealism crept out of realism, and began its own exitence, denying us that pure existence. The crying boys and girls were caught unaware, because awareness had melted. They were jus chilling, but the 'man' had to hit hard, because he could not stand pure happiness. He felt the need to attack these brillinat minds, ending their spell of perfect and pure thought.

The weirdness of these thoughts could annoy many, but we ust endeavor to find that beautiful place, may it be the SBI lawns, or some room or some hilltop. We must find that spot where we can endeavor to create perfection, not jus strive for it, but achieve it.

We must begin to realize that perfection is possible, and once achieved it will melt into something so fluid and evolutionary that prue thoughts will end all classification.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Adventures of a bus rider!!!

Now, I sometimes have major reservations against complaining through discomfort. However, I will make one of many exceptions here. Maybe my life is a bunch of exceptional cases, all contradicting my supposed beliefs.
Now, I know that it is important to live life through hardships and tensions, but a recent bus ride made me feel that its not that bad to have that private jet, where u can travel in peace with all comfort, reach in time, and most importantly stretch your legs. So, I set out on a bus ride from Jaipur, totally exhausted and dharna-ized, heading to Udaipur which has become like a second home. I look into my wallet, and I notice the immense wad of paper within it, not currency notes, but bills or reminders of my currency notes being used up in this mess called globalization. I had Rs. 250, and about 7 rupees in change. Someone had told me that the bus ride cost, Rs. 150, but knowing past history I decided to check it out, just in case. So, the ticket was Rs. 222. Hmmm, So I had the luxury of spending about Rs. 28 on some form of nutrition. So, I did to wisest thing. I had a cup of chai. I waited for the bus to come, not knowing that Rajasthan Roadways allowed people to book tickets earlier. So, as soon as my blue bus arrived I rushed to that ticket counter with my meagre allowance. And, I bought a ticket. Now, the good g0d had bestowed or condemned me with a decent body frame, with something proverbially called "good height" .Now, if this were a tool for intimidation, I havent used it a lot, but I realized the detriment of being above average height in the great Indian land. I was given a seat way back, at the corner window seat. I was excited about the window seat part, hoping that it would distract my mind into aimless thoughts. But, it ended up being a victory of discomfort over random metaphorical thought. Sigh! I barely slept for two hours throughout the trip, and my back rest created rashes on my neck. There was a small kid sitting near me, actually it was a weird family. There was this woman, who made all the decisions. Talk about empowerment. The kid was a spoilt brat, who just decided to let the whole world rely on himself. But, he came up with crazy comments once in a while, about how he basically spent all his life watching movies. But, the amazing thing about it was that how the mother took all his craziness and slept on the floor for him It made me wonder about the wonder called momhood. The feeling of being all protecting and benevolent to your child. The way she accepted all the troubles of sleeping on a narrow bus floor, and also letting him have his legs all over her. The way she cuddled him, and even when the bus emptied, how she pretended to be his pillow. It made me think of the wonder of motherhood. That ethereal feeling of being part of this bond that lets you sacrifice so much, and never realizing the extent of sacrifice. The emotions that link a child and a mother, can be phenomenonal. It would defy studies, although I had a physics teacher who once used the equation for calculating the Gravitational force on a mother and child, and tried to prove taht the force of attraction was of a very high order.

But, it is rather interesting that a discourse on discomfort so naturally turns into a contemplative discourse into one of the most mysterious bonds ever seen. I cant deny that my knees are hurting, but after seeing the smile the mother gave after all the pains, makes me wonder whether my pains were worth anything. They probably weren't. The human being can endure, and there are certain relationships that allow us to defy the conventions we stick to, and defy our own physical and natural beliefs, and transcend the levels of normalcy adn extend to a space that is beautiful and divine, simply because it is beyond the bonds of that calculated term called 'self-interest'.

Enjoy your life, but learn to see that wonders that defy all conventions around us, exemplified through simple examples and even simpler people, without any ambitions, but simply the will to survive in this cauldron or well of life we have been placed in.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006


The need for creating something phenomenonal is what drives me, making me disconnected with the realities that life presents. Although, this may appear to be the undercurrent of a rather obsequious creature, I must confess that I am no such being. Simply, trying to forge my way through life...eating into that pie that is so freely given to all, but still remains elusive. I wish to change, or atleast transform the mechanism of our system. An attempt is warranted, considering the beauty of our lives and the people we meet...
So this is an attempt of sharing what I think is the best thing in the world, spreading the message!!!