I have realized that it is infinitely easier to be kind to a stranger, than to one you already know. Charity in the case of the latter, has to start where you left off the last time. Whereas the former is unencumbered by your past history of kindnesses.
Random acts of charity earn you more blessings, happiness and satisfaction than a regular charitable habit.
Take for instance a beggar on the street. If you were to walk up to one and give him a 50 Re note, he would first look at the note in incredulity and then at you in reverence. You would be vaulted straight to the top of his charts, possibly next to the maker himself. A 100 Re note would hopefully swing the balance in your favour and ensure that you emerge 'Numero Uno'.
In scenario 2, let us assume that you've been in the habit of endowing a certain beggar with a certain amount of money everyday. An increase in his daily kindness will have to be of geometric proportions, to register as a blip on his Richter scale. He is, after all used to a certain degree of complacency as far as your generosity is concerned.
The same can be said about smaller, non fiscal acts like offering seats, opening doors, giving way on the road, sharing an umbrella etc. etc.
And so I shall begin today, to mete out heaps of kindnesses to unknown persons on the streets. I shall be the savour of the unknown man. The champion of the cause yet undiscovered.
And if the prayers of the last beggar is to be believed, I shall have a Buckingham Palace ready for me in the after life.
Wednesday, June 29, 2005
Tuesday, June 28, 2005
Though this be madness, there is method in it.
It's amazing how absolutely opposite emotions are closer to each other than you think. Pain isn't that far away from ecstasy. And often light and dark dwell within the same plane.
I chanced upon this revelation under the least likely circumstances. A board room full of jargon spewing, frothing at the mouth MBAs, dissecting the cadaver that was my TV script. A common problem that occurs when the sharp surgical knife of reason is handed over to a bunch of trigger happy MBAs, each trying to prove a point.
The experienced surgeon cuts lightly, and only where required, and often not at all. These dingbats on the other hand, wield the knife with the finesse of a butcher. Slashing away at every exposed inch of skin in sight.
And it was in the midst of this bloodbath that I realized that I was absolutely alone. In a room with 20 men, I was more lonesome than I would have been in a room with 20 empty chairs. Physically, I was in the company of 20 warm blooded beings. But mentally, I might as well have been on the Moon.
It was then that it dawned on me. Opposites only seem opposites. They are in fact more closely related than we think.
For example when you're hungry, you feel the pangs in your stomach. And with the passing of time, it gets worse and worse untill suddenly you aren't hungry at all. At the pinnacle of hunger, rests satiety. And similarly with pain. People often go into a state of ecstasy as soon as the pain becomes unbearable.
And so it is with anger. I remember I would get scolded for doing something wrong, and with the severity of the deed, the extent of punishment would increase. Only to cease, if I did the unthinkable.
Maybe I'm wrong. But you can't fault me for observation. There is method in my madness.
I chanced upon this revelation under the least likely circumstances. A board room full of jargon spewing, frothing at the mouth MBAs, dissecting the cadaver that was my TV script. A common problem that occurs when the sharp surgical knife of reason is handed over to a bunch of trigger happy MBAs, each trying to prove a point.
The experienced surgeon cuts lightly, and only where required, and often not at all. These dingbats on the other hand, wield the knife with the finesse of a butcher. Slashing away at every exposed inch of skin in sight.
And it was in the midst of this bloodbath that I realized that I was absolutely alone. In a room with 20 men, I was more lonesome than I would have been in a room with 20 empty chairs. Physically, I was in the company of 20 warm blooded beings. But mentally, I might as well have been on the Moon.
It was then that it dawned on me. Opposites only seem opposites. They are in fact more closely related than we think.
For example when you're hungry, you feel the pangs in your stomach. And with the passing of time, it gets worse and worse untill suddenly you aren't hungry at all. At the pinnacle of hunger, rests satiety. And similarly with pain. People often go into a state of ecstasy as soon as the pain becomes unbearable.
And so it is with anger. I remember I would get scolded for doing something wrong, and with the severity of the deed, the extent of punishment would increase. Only to cease, if I did the unthinkable.
Maybe I'm wrong. But you can't fault me for observation. There is method in my madness.
Sunday, June 19, 2005
Wild Things
Parambikulam is a 285 sq kilometer wildlife reserve to the north of Kerala. And I had the privilege of spending my weekend there.
Tourists avoid this wildlife haven like a plague during the monsoons. What with leeches, mosquitoes, slush, unstable terrain, snakes, leaky roofs and perpetual rains. All the more reasons for me to go. I like taking vacations which you need vacations to recover from. And I got exactly what I bargained for.
Parambikulam is a village of exactly 6 thached houses. To explain how remote it really is, let me tell you about my conversation with a local. I asked him if there was a telephone booth nearby. He pointed to a little thached hut which doubles up as a house and a restaurant, and assured me that indeed an instrument of that nature was to be found there. However upon further questioning, it was revealed to me that it doesn't have STD facilities. Which means you can only dial locally, i.e. the only other phone in the next village, some 10 kilometers away.
Anyway, after rowing for an hour (No motorboats allowed as they disturb the wildlife) across a crocodile infested lake, we reached our place of residence. The 'Bungalow' as it turned out, was nothing but a single, large room with a row of indigenously made bamboo beds with a thatch base. The procurement of two local chickens for the price of Rs. 300 each (broiler is 100 a kg) was to be our dinner for the night. Since I had prior experience with hunting, the job of killing and skinning the chickens fell to me. A dangerous endeavour since wild sloth bears lurk around the premises, and the smell of blood is sure to attract one.
Dinner cooked, leeches pulled off and wounds tended to, we pulled out our sleeping bags and lay awake, taking in the sounds of the jungle. Each time we heard a snort or a call in the distance, we'd jump up and shine our toorches, to no avail, into the inky blackness of the jungle. Oh! did I mention that there was no electricity there? Well there wasn't.
The next morning, saw us setting off to spot animals and birds. Immediately, we spied on the far bank, a herd of Bisons. Rowing as quietly as we could, (Which is about as quietly as a bull in a china shop), we crept up to the other bank. Thankfully, we were downwind to the herd and were able to skirt over a small hill untill we were almost over them. Just as we stood there, cameras ready, focusing on the heard, someone stepped on a stick. The resulting crack sent the herd into the jungle at a trot. Thankfully, Bisons are demure creatures and don't often attack or we'd been toast.
That day we saw heards of Cheetals (Spotted deer), Sambars (Especially one male with an impressive set of antelers.), and some more Bisons. We also managed to spot a number of birds like the River Tern, The crested snake eagle, The great hornbill, Little owlet, the Greater Raquet-tailed Drongo. The most cherished spotting was that of the Malabar Whistling Thrush, also called the 'Whistling schoolboy' for it's lazy, whistling call.
But the most memorable encounter was with a herd of wild elephants. It was around 12 in the night and we'd set off to spot animals from our SUV. Along with us was a guide who it is necessary to take along as they know the animals and where they are to be found. Just as we aproached a bend in the road, we heard a trumpet call of a tusker. Screeching to a halt at the bend, we were in awe of what we saw. A parade of elephants, not more than 10 meters away. Silently the guide, grabbed the driver by the arm and motioned for us to slowly back off. As we did, we saw a tusker step forward as if to warn us about our proximity. Even the guide was a little rattled by the unexpected encounter. So, nervously from a distance, we watched with our searchlight, the herd move on. We watced in awe as one elephant wrapped its trunk around a bunch of tall thick bamboo plants and effortlessly pull them out of the ground. These bamboos must have been at least 10 - 13 meters tall and about a foot across and would take more than a bulldozer to raze.
And so we left Parambikulam the next day a little humbled, and a little wiser. Three days of solitude and hardships had enobled us like no three decades in a city could. We promised to come back next season. And we intend to.
Tourists avoid this wildlife haven like a plague during the monsoons. What with leeches, mosquitoes, slush, unstable terrain, snakes, leaky roofs and perpetual rains. All the more reasons for me to go. I like taking vacations which you need vacations to recover from. And I got exactly what I bargained for.
Parambikulam is a village of exactly 6 thached houses. To explain how remote it really is, let me tell you about my conversation with a local. I asked him if there was a telephone booth nearby. He pointed to a little thached hut which doubles up as a house and a restaurant, and assured me that indeed an instrument of that nature was to be found there. However upon further questioning, it was revealed to me that it doesn't have STD facilities. Which means you can only dial locally, i.e. the only other phone in the next village, some 10 kilometers away.
Anyway, after rowing for an hour (No motorboats allowed as they disturb the wildlife) across a crocodile infested lake, we reached our place of residence. The 'Bungalow' as it turned out, was nothing but a single, large room with a row of indigenously made bamboo beds with a thatch base. The procurement of two local chickens for the price of Rs. 300 each (broiler is 100 a kg) was to be our dinner for the night. Since I had prior experience with hunting, the job of killing and skinning the chickens fell to me. A dangerous endeavour since wild sloth bears lurk around the premises, and the smell of blood is sure to attract one.
Dinner cooked, leeches pulled off and wounds tended to, we pulled out our sleeping bags and lay awake, taking in the sounds of the jungle. Each time we heard a snort or a call in the distance, we'd jump up and shine our toorches, to no avail, into the inky blackness of the jungle. Oh! did I mention that there was no electricity there? Well there wasn't.
The next morning, saw us setting off to spot animals and birds. Immediately, we spied on the far bank, a herd of Bisons. Rowing as quietly as we could, (Which is about as quietly as a bull in a china shop), we crept up to the other bank. Thankfully, we were downwind to the herd and were able to skirt over a small hill untill we were almost over them. Just as we stood there, cameras ready, focusing on the heard, someone stepped on a stick. The resulting crack sent the herd into the jungle at a trot. Thankfully, Bisons are demure creatures and don't often attack or we'd been toast.
That day we saw heards of Cheetals (Spotted deer), Sambars (Especially one male with an impressive set of antelers.), and some more Bisons. We also managed to spot a number of birds like the River Tern, The crested snake eagle, The great hornbill, Little owlet, the Greater Raquet-tailed Drongo. The most cherished spotting was that of the Malabar Whistling Thrush, also called the 'Whistling schoolboy' for it's lazy, whistling call.
But the most memorable encounter was with a herd of wild elephants. It was around 12 in the night and we'd set off to spot animals from our SUV. Along with us was a guide who it is necessary to take along as they know the animals and where they are to be found. Just as we aproached a bend in the road, we heard a trumpet call of a tusker. Screeching to a halt at the bend, we were in awe of what we saw. A parade of elephants, not more than 10 meters away. Silently the guide, grabbed the driver by the arm and motioned for us to slowly back off. As we did, we saw a tusker step forward as if to warn us about our proximity. Even the guide was a little rattled by the unexpected encounter. So, nervously from a distance, we watched with our searchlight, the herd move on. We watced in awe as one elephant wrapped its trunk around a bunch of tall thick bamboo plants and effortlessly pull them out of the ground. These bamboos must have been at least 10 - 13 meters tall and about a foot across and would take more than a bulldozer to raze.
And so we left Parambikulam the next day a little humbled, and a little wiser. Three days of solitude and hardships had enobled us like no three decades in a city could. We promised to come back next season. And we intend to.
Wednesday, June 15, 2005
An alcoholic in alcohol
Ever walked into a biology lab and seen those specimens in their bottles of formaldehyde? They just sit there and vegetate. They don't decay, they don't regenarate. They're frozen in time.
Pretty much the situaton I find myself in. I don't move on. Neither do I go back to her. I''ve tried both, but all roads lead to those formaldehyde bottles. A state of suspension where you sit there and watch the world pass you by.
I'm an alcoholic in alcohol.
Pretty much the situaton I find myself in. I don't move on. Neither do I go back to her. I''ve tried both, but all roads lead to those formaldehyde bottles. A state of suspension where you sit there and watch the world pass you by.
I'm an alcoholic in alcohol.
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Road to nowhere
'The thing I love about Bangalore is the names of streets and the towns. I mean I'd rather pick 'St. Marks' road and 'Wheeler road' over Delhi's 'Bheesham Pitamah marg' or 'Baba Khadag Singh marg'. I'd rather pick Frasier Town and Cox Town over 'Sreenivaspuri' or 'Mongolpuri'.
A conversation in Delhi would go something like:
"So Where do you live?"
"Sreenivaspuri"
"Where's that?"
"You know the Okhla Mandi? It's a little down that road."
"You mean Shaheed Captain Gaur Marg?"
"Yup."
"Cool"
And now we come to a conversation in Bnagalore.
"So where do you live?"
"Grace Town"
"Where's that?"
"You know Wheeler road? Take a right off it onto the Frasier town main road.
Ok cool.
Now you decide which one is cooler. Yes I admit that Bangalore too has its anomalies like 'Lingarajapuram' and 'Banaswadi' but what's important is that they have some cool names too.
I like the idea of living in Grace Town, rather than some 'Rabindra Nagar' somewhere.
A conversation in Delhi would go something like:
"So Where do you live?"
"Sreenivaspuri"
"Where's that?"
"You know the Okhla Mandi? It's a little down that road."
"You mean Shaheed Captain Gaur Marg?"
"Yup."
"Cool"
And now we come to a conversation in Bnagalore.
"So where do you live?"
"Grace Town"
"Where's that?"
"You know Wheeler road? Take a right off it onto the Frasier town main road.
Ok cool.
Now you decide which one is cooler. Yes I admit that Bangalore too has its anomalies like 'Lingarajapuram' and 'Banaswadi' but what's important is that they have some cool names too.
I like the idea of living in Grace Town, rather than some 'Rabindra Nagar' somewhere.
Monday, June 13, 2005
The fat of the land
Have you noticed that people don't call really fat people 'fat'. I guess it's a little like pointing out the obvious. They only call slightly overweight people fat. I mean would someone ever walk up to Adnan Sami or Yokozuna and tell him that he's overweight? They'll probably go over to him and tell him he has an excellent voice or a charming appeal. But someone like me, who's fit but has a little flab around the middle, is suddenly open to criticism.
So, mediocrity is to be despised while the blatantly extreme are to be spared. It's funny isn't it. And this seems to be a trend across cultures. And thought this phenomenon is not contained by geography, it is by age. Children don't give a fuck. They call fat people fat and thin people thin. They are not bound by the laws of decency that we grown ups are.
I've seen people walk up to an exceedingly obese man and compliment him on his figure. And later walk up to me and tell me that I seem to have put on a few pounds.
Don't we, the obviously boderline, have feelings too?
So, mediocrity is to be despised while the blatantly extreme are to be spared. It's funny isn't it. And this seems to be a trend across cultures. And thought this phenomenon is not contained by geography, it is by age. Children don't give a fuck. They call fat people fat and thin people thin. They are not bound by the laws of decency that we grown ups are.
I've seen people walk up to an exceedingly obese man and compliment him on his figure. And later walk up to me and tell me that I seem to have put on a few pounds.
Don't we, the obviously boderline, have feelings too?
Saturday, June 11, 2005
The flight
I've left Delhi like a man leaving a whorehouse. Silently packing my bags and sneaking off unseen into the night. Not that I have anyone to run away from. Just my life in that sinful city. I have packed all my belongings into 2 large bags. It's funny how 8 years of your life can fit into someting as small as a Samsonite case. I'd have thought that it'll amount to something more substantial.
But the bagage I carry is in my heart and my head. Visions of an relationship gone bad. Of drunken night spent sprawled on the living room floor. Snatches of heated conversations at 4 in the morning.
So I have come to Bangalore. To a new city.
But I have a new life now. Or do I?
But the bagage I carry is in my heart and my head. Visions of an relationship gone bad. Of drunken night spent sprawled on the living room floor. Snatches of heated conversations at 4 in the morning.
So I have come to Bangalore. To a new city.
But I have a new life now. Or do I?
Friday, June 10, 2005
Genesis
Long have I resisted the call of the Blog. For reasons unknown to myself, I just couldn't come to terms with doing a "Full Monty" with my views annd beliefs when I can't even see the spectators.
But then again, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
So here goes.
But then again, nothing ventured, nothing gained.
So here goes.
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