Freedom of Noise

In India, we enjoy great FREEDOM. No doubt about it. People fight for their freedom. Human Rights, Women’s Rights, Education Bill etc etc all ensure more and more freedom for everyone.

But the greatest of all freedoms we enjoy (probably even as a Basic human right) is the freedom to make as much noise as we want.

I get up at 5a.m in the morning and take a stroll on the roads. The roads are empty with hardly a soul stirring. Even the street dogs are in deep sleep and they feel disturbed having to see a stranger (that’s me) walking so early in the morning. They bark feebly and get back to their cosy sleep.

Everything looks fine and beautiful. The dawn and the dark blue sky are soothing. I feel happy that the earth is engulfed in silence. The clock strikes 6a.m. Lo Behold!! The situation is changed. There is already considerable traffic on the roads. Dogs are full of energy running around barking at their loudest. Mami’s sleepily putting kolams outside. And there  a loud speaker in  a temple which blasts in full volume “Om Burba Vasuva” which keeps repeating atleast a 100 times.

Welcome to the world of Indian noise!!

I return home and dreamily pick up the milk packet and go inside the house. Suddenly I get a jerk. The neighbour “thatha” has turned on the devotional cassette singing “Om Namah Shivay” with so much volume that the whole apartment can hear it. Ofcourse I cannot blame the noble intentions of the thatha to want to “put in some” religious fervour in un-religious people like me.

I am no exception to the rule. My mom says I have such a thunderous laughter that two houses away can easily spot that it was “Ammu’s hysterical laughter”. Then I knew why my neighbours always give me a weird look when I walk on the roads.

How can I forget the phone conversations. People even 10 feet away speaking on phone can be heard easily without much strain. Whoever invented the term “eavesdropping” was definitely not an Indian.

Added to this we have noisy festivals. This Diwali was a “Ear-Opener” for me. I was in deep sleep. A 1000-wala was  lighted by the apartment kids at 6 a.m in the morning right below my room. I jumped out of my bed in a karate pose. (Ya, when I am alone in the house such kind of self-defence behavior just comes to me ). The entire day, I could hear a bomb/cracker going off every 10 minutes. I am NOT joking. If my ears had a feeling, they would have wept copiously that day.

I had gone on a picnic with some kids to “Parambikulam Wildlife Sanctuary” in the Palakkad district a few weeks back. In those dense forests, teeming wildlife and beauty did I realise “How much NOISE the cities are full of”. We took a trek in the dense Evergreen forests (about a 8 km trail) and we had to maintain the utmost silence to spot a wild animal. It was when I thought, “Silence is beautiful”.

When do we get the freedom of Silence in India?

-|

When I was drowning someone held my hand and pulled me up
Out of the waters I came tired, desolate and miserable
I was angry at the hands that saved me
Sweet and soft hands that tried to give me solace
I refused it. I rejected. I ran to fall again into another river
The hand yet again saved me
I was not angry
I was confused
I, who, did not deserve to live was saved over and over again
It had a meaning
The meaning was found deep in the core of my heart
The meaning was the hands that saved me

______________________________________

On Autobiographies..Yawn

It was the year of 2008. I took up Gandhiji’s much hyped autobiography “My Experiments with Truth“. I started reading it. There was a tear drop on the side of my face. No, no, I was not touched or emotional. I was yawning away so much that my eyes were watering. I kept down the book and snored. Everytime I took the book, I could not read beyond a few pages. The book was “boring”.

I am huge fan of Mahatma Gandhi. But with all due respects to the man, his autobiography was boring.

I returned the book to the library and never dared to take it up again.

Then I took up Agatha Christie’s autobiography. I read upto 150 pages. It was interesting. Yet the book bored me in many ways. I don’t know if it is the fault with me or the autobiography.

I returned even this book to the library. Dint have the courage to take up any other autobiography.

Then I chanced upon a book “Memoirs of a Mediocre Man” by S.Y.Krishnaswamy today. I let out a “wow” when I read the first page. He summarizes what exactly I feel about autobiographies:

“Autobiographies make dull reading, as a rule. The incidents which appear to be of importance to the autobiographer are of scant interest to the general reader. They represent the details of daily life, which are no different for the great from those of ordinary persons. But to the writer, they are of absorbing personal interest. Autobiographies are mostly written in old age. By then, the past becomes pleasant in recollection. The mind distils the events in such a way that trivial incidents assume a falsely romantic hue, and the tendency to eschew the distressing and exaggerate the delightful unconsciously assets itself.”

This led me to think sometimes our blogs or our very own writings are like autobiographies. We sometimes give a romantic hue and exaggeration to the little details of life.

Well, human nature is full of moments of such interest to me.

(Any good autobiography recommendations are welcome at the recommender’s own risk )

Dark recesses of life…

A story told here.

They fell in love. They broke up. They fell in love again and yet again broke up. This cycle continued. They din’t know why they were falling in love with each other and why they were breaking up.

Love was beautiful when they met. Passionate, Sexual, Exciting. The touch of each other’s bodies was a “new” thing. “Love” was purely based on the “next” meeting. Emotional attachment. Misunderstandings. Craving for sex.

One of them wanted an end. The other was forced to oblige. They went on diverse paths. Both not understanding where they would go. Life changed. They tried finding “happiness” in everything else. They wanted “something” to substitute that emptiness left behind. There was an emptiness. There was a void. They were loyal. Atleast one of them was. (It can be the boy or the girl based on your imagination cos it doesn’t matter who was loyal). They were never really apart. Just a facade.

The assumption of “getting back together” came in. One of them resisted it. The other felt hurt. There was lot of confusion, impulses, reactions, words exchanged. But who can understand the turn of the heart?

There was another breaking up. Both sad. But both very happy. Or were they just sad?

A chance meeting. Both of them met like strangers in a crowd. No hand shakes. No touch. No looking into each others eyes. Just a side look. And an aching heart. They left. Never to meet again.

Life interests. They meet again. This time as friends. They touch. Their hands touch. The “look of love” is back. Everything seems rosy. Yet the very next day they go back to their business.

Life again separates them. They live lonely lives. In two different cities. In two different cultures. In two different worlds. Yet something connects them. They find it foolish. Atleast one of them finds it weird.

They are back together emotionally. But why all those events of separation and getting back together? Why din’t they just understand each other? Is it so tough to understand a person? No, its not about understanding another.

It is understanding yourself that’s tough.

(The story may have a second part – Watch out )

Taking credit

I was reading a story from the Volume 1 of Sherlock Holmes. This particular story touched me. Holmes was brilliant as always. The thing that striked me was Holmes was never attached to “fame” or “credit” he got for his work. Infact in the story, the police force approaches him and asks him to give them the credit for the case instead of he taking it. And Holmes gladly gives all the information about the case and the very next day in newspapers it is published that “Police Inspector Mack solved this case brilliantly“.

I was amazed at this quality. I am very attached to my work. I say this is “my” work. This writing was done by “me”. I take credit for whatever I do. I can’t imagine not taking credit for my work or giving the credit to someone else. I want to explore more on this aspect. How can we be so expansive as to merely enjoy our work and not look for credit or recognition and be anonymous like Holmes? Does this help in improving our productivity? [I am not talking here of rewards like money or bonuses - that would be a different topic for discussion]

Is that why hobbies are more interesting because we merely do it for our interest and pleasure and don’t look for somebody’s recognition?

I would love to hear your inputs

Meeting people…

One of the most exciting aspects about being in U.S was meeting people from different countries. On my flight back to India, in the connecting flight from Birmingham to Chicago, a blue-eyed, soft featured, mid twenties man sat next to me. I was kind of tired having got up early so I put my head down on the “food tray” in front of me and slept. The flight duration was 2 hours. I got up after an hour and looked around dreamy-eyed. The man next to me had a sweet smile on his face.

He asked “Which country are you from?“

I replied “India“

His face brightened up and he said: “Wow, I have always wanted to visit India. I have heard it’s a beautiful place. Tell me more about it. Any places I can visit. Which part of India are you from?”

I went on a long explanation (in my characteristic way) about Hyderabad. And then clueless of what places to suggest to him, I asked him what kind of places he would like to visit and asked which part of U.S was he from.

He replied that he was a Canadian and came down to U.S to visit his sister and brother-in-law for Christmas. He said he would love to visit any good place in India.

I was still clueless what to tell him. I told him probably he should like some places in Kerala, Goa. He took out his paper and pen and asked me to write those places down for him. I wrote it down. He then mentioned about Himalayas. There comes the problem. I told him sheepishly, I haven’t myself been anywhere near to the Himalayan ranges but I mentioned to him that I have heard the places around like Ladakh, Leh were supposed to be beautiful.

He was just so happy to talk to an Indian and know about India. I have noticed this pleasure and happiness in people I have to met to know and talk about a new culture. Our conversations continued with he asking about my college, future plans and I asking about life in Canada, the government they have, the climate there etc and there the flight landed in Chicago. We shook hands and departed. I can’t even recollect his name.

These glimpses of “short meetings” stay in my memory for long. They make my life beautiful and I realise life is a journey and it keeps going on.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

My association with Sherlock Holmes started with the story of the “Hound of Baskervilles” in school. It was a thrilling story. I remember the story so well, the Stapletons, Henry Baskerville. One of my relatives had the entire collection of Sherlock Holmes novels and short stories. I remember my brother devouring the whole series. Inspired by him, even I took to reading the stories. I think I read 1 whole volume.

Fortunately I found the complete Sherlock Holmes volumes in my neighbour’s house. I have borrowed the 1st volume and started reading them yesterday. There is something subtle, beautiful and exciting about Sir Conan Doyle’s writing and treatment of the story. You can clearly visualise each scene that he writes. And Holmes is a masterpiece.

I read the story the “The Adventure of the Illustrious Client” and wanted to share some interesting sentences from the story

Both Holmes and I had a weakness for the Turkish bath. It was over a smoke in the pleasant lassitude of the drying-room that I have found him less reticent and more human than anywhere else.

Haha!! Watson talks of Holmes being “more human” in the Turkish bath. The wiki link on the Turkish bath is very interesting. It is also called the Hammam in Turkish/Arabic.

Then you have the hour 4:30. Until then we can put the matter out of our heads.

The characteristic Holmes style. “Putting the matter out of the heads” – Something to learn

we are dealing on this occasion, Mr. Holmes, with a man to whom violence is familiar and who will, literally, stick at nothing. I should say that there is no more dangerous man in Europe.

“I have had several opponents to whom that flattering term has been applied,said Holmes with a smile.

What a courageous and witty remark – Love Holmes for such statements

A complex mind,said Holmes. All great criminals have that. My old friend Charlie Peace was a violin virtuoso. Wainwright was no mean artist. I could quote many more.

Here comes the twist and the adventure in the story. Holmes is admiring the man he has to deal with.

Woman’s heart and mind are insoluble puzzles to the male. Murder might be condoned or explained, and yet some smaller offence might rankle.

Aye, Sir. I agree with you

I was sorry for her, Watson. I thought of her for the moment as I would have thought of a daughter of my own. I am not often eloquent. I use my head, not my heart. But I really did plead with her with all the warmth of words that I could find in my nature.

Wow, a side of Holmes’ emotional nature.

I can write a whole series of posts about Holmes. Looking forward to read the entire series. Gainfully occupied for the next few days!!

A new year or just another day?

I dont really like celebrating my birthday. I like the birthday wishes I get and the surprise phone calls from lot of friends. But as such I feel birthdays are like any other day. I spoke to my boss in the morning and he told me birthdays are not merely for social celebration. They have a spiritual meaning to it. It is the time for progress, to evolve and to accomplish. I felt this was a new perspective. An interesting one at that.

When I visualise myself of how I was the last year, I can see tremendous changes. A transition in my understanding. A travel from U.S back to India. Coming to Pondicherry. Meeting unique and different people. The sense of “creating my destiny”.

I dint know what to look forward for this birthday. I aspired for “silence” and here it is. Sitting in my office room all alone, I enjoy this Silence.

Browsing on a lot of links lead me to Sri Aurobindo’s poem “Savitri“. A beautiful verse from the poem:

A morn that seemed a new creation’s front,
Bringing a greater sunlight, happier skies,
Came burdened with a beauty moved and strange
Out of the changeless origin of things.

Lesson learnt the hard way

Thoughts that always came in my mind are

“What can an organization offer me in terms of benefits or responsibilities?”

“This person will be a hindrance to my work”

“I can’t waste my time over this person or work”

The past week because of certain incidents I have learned how to change the approach.

The approach which I knew but never implemented.

“To give“

What can I give to the organization rather than thinking of what I receive from it in form of benefits

What can I give to a friend/acquaintance that will make their life easier.

What can I give to the society that will make it a better place.

This shift has taken place not in a fortnight but over a period of 4-5 years.

This shift makes my life more enriching. I have to maintain doing it.

The whole is greater than the sum of the parts

In drawing human faces, the important technique is not to name the parts of the face while drawing. You cannot look at a face and say, ok let me draw the nose, let me draw the mouth. If you do that you may end up drawing the “symbol” for nose or mouth that’s stored in your mind rather than drawing “what you see“. To draw a face, you have to just draw it completely. You should look at it as a complete form, with edges, with forms, with angles and twists.

You have to understand the relative positioning of the parts of the face with each other. Even while noting down the relative positioning, it is better to have the idea of “forms” in your mind.

So we can see that the whole is greater than sum of its parts. Today in my discussions with my boss, this topic came up.

This is the problem with our present academics. It has been divided into many parts like history, politics, social sciences, economy, psychology etc. But there is no idea of a “whole” system. How each area affects the other.

The solution in drawing to understand the difference between parts and whole is to turn the drawing upside down. When you do this, you stop observing the parts of the face like nose, ears, mouth etc and start observing forms, shapes, edges and angles.

To understand life and the interrelation between various parts, probably we need a similar technique. To turn the world upside down

How would we do this? Let me think about it. What are your views?