Where "Long winded" Hari thinks he is Jean-Paul Sartre!

I don't remember clearly how I used to wake up in Ranipet. Perhaps I felt my shoulder shaken roughly or amma's voice pleading me to wake up and trying to convince me that the sun was up(Like it had to do anything) and that I was late as usual. Or, it could have been the loud music that was played in our house. It was Swami Haridas Giri on bad days. Not that I hated Swami Haridas or anything, infact, I always thought he was rather cute(I thought he was singing of "Poori and Kuruma" half the time ). But, he was not a very accomplished singer and tended to shout quite a bit. On other days, it was either M.S. or Old Tamil songs or some incomprehensible devotional album. But, some days, at least early on, amma or appa would have Chitra's and Yesudas' albums on Krishna on. I still remember how much I used to enjoy Chitra singing "Theeradha Vilayattu Pillai" or Yesudas' "Guru Kripa Anjana".

Not that it made any difference to my mood, anyway. I guess I was a pretty grumpy child and mornings were never a favourite time of the day. But, amma would have none of that. In her endeavour to make better people of us, she insisted that my Brother and I attend a series of self improvement courses, from Music and Hindi to Karate and Computers. Although, I eventually managed to thwart all of her ambitions for me, there was a period when I had no choice but to attend these life draining classes. The worst of them all was Yoga. We had to get up at 5 am every day and walk to the local temple when it was still dark, where one of the priests there would instruct me on the different Postures. I remember how I used to walk the half a Kilometer in the fog with a blanket wrapped around to ward off the cold, scared to death of the stray dogs which used to trail us all the way. They seemed to have the notion that I was responsible for their misery and barked at me till I reached the temple.

Adiparashakthi or Amman, as folks affectionately refer to her, was housed those days in a rectangular cement hut with three entrances, two on the longer sides and one on one of the shorter side.... Well, there was no wall on that side and a path led from the temple to the Priest's living quarters. On the opposite side we had the sanctum sanctorum. I cannot remember the idol itself now, I only remember yellow light, perhaps from a bulb inside the alcove that formed the sanctum sanctorum. Behind the enclosure was the mandatory Snake Hill. Thankfully, though I've never seen a snake there. The priest-Shakthi, we called him, used to ring a bell in time with his prayers in the morning and evening. Maybe the snakes just couldn't stand the din and migrated.

Anyway, we reached the temple by five fifteen and began our Yoga. Since Shakthi was a busy man and had to complete a lot of chores in the morning, he would greet us warmly and request us to start with the Yoga and pretty much leave my brother and yours truly to our own devices. Badri initially used to faithfully try out the different poses.Me? Let's just say that I don't respond very well to attempts aimed at getting me out of the bed earlier than I want to. I would first catch a nap sitting down and pretending to meditate. Then, I would lie down on the blanket and practice shavasana, which basically involved just lying down and relaxing. Of which, obviously, I was an expert! Then I would do Sarvangasana, which was basically lying down with your feet in the air, and catch another snooze. Shakthi would have known that I never did anything. But the nice man that he was, he knew that he couldn't shove Yoga down my throat nor did he have the heart to complain to mom. Badri soon began following my example and started cheating too. Then I began malingering which led to mom realizing that I was never going to be a Deepak Chopra or a Maharishi Mahesh Yogi and resigned herself to making me a Hindi Pundit. The way I foiled that is probably a story for another day.

For years afterwards Shakthi would stop me on the road and inquire if I was practising my Yoga knowing very well that I didn't bother to and would exhort me to take care of my body. I could sense his disappointment with me and started avoiding the roads leading to and from the temple. He just didn't realize that I was the type who was fated to contract everything from Diabetes to Ulcer to Blood Pressure to Cholesterol by the time I reach my thirties. Or, may be he did and just couldn't let go. He actually gave a damn about the overweight, stubborn, disrespectful, lazy bum that I was (and am). I heard one day that his health was failing and on another that he'd passed on. I never went to the temple after that nor did I ever spare a thought for that man in all the self absorbed search for instant gratification that has characterized my teens and most of my twenties.

When I try to remember him now, I see a dark, wiry man. Neither too tall or short. He was cleanshaven, with a wide mouth and a peaceful expression. He was fairly young. Perhaps in his mid thirties when he died. When he was in the temple, he would wear just the red veshti that all the priests of the goddess are supposed to wear, with his chest bare. Whenever I met him outside, he'd be clad in a white veshti and a white shirt of a simple tamil everyman riding a bicycle. For all this, I realize, I don't remember him at all. I cannot picture his face. He has faded away. Soon, no one will remember him.

It's only when I try to remember the long forgotten details about Shakthi that I realize my own Mortality. Death, not the anthropomorphic figure with a serious lack of Fashion-sense, but in the world carrying on as if I never existed and I suddenly feel a giant emptiness in my stomach. I sense my own insignificance and it scares me, funnily enough, halfway to death. I can see it looming ahead and every breath is only carrying me closer and closer to the inevitable. I realize that the hopelessness of all my actions and its consequences. However, I also realize that there is salvation, a reprieve, albeit momentary- memory. Death would not be so complete or so final if some one somewhere remembered me for a moment like I now remember Shakthi. That is all I can spare. That is all I can ask for!

Where Hari tries to show off and as usual doesn't quite pull it off

For obvious reasons, the weekend is the the best part of the week for me. I try to do as many things that I enjoy, as possible. Usually I just sleep and eat a lot. But there are some weekends that truly are wonderful. I knew this was going to be a great weekend when I woke up on Friday with the sun streaming down through my bedroom window. In a nutshell, this weekend kicked ass because

1. I felt as if a great weight was lifted off my shoulders when I confronted the powers that be and blurted out that it might be a good idea to wait until late 2010 and my proposal was accepted. I did not even know I was nervous about the whole thing and was quite surprised at the amount of relief I felt(Especially because I took the initiative when I created the whole profile thingey!(Dont Ask)). Bullet dodged. Atleast for the present. Now, all I have to do is hold of for two more years. It won't matter after that. Nothing will.

2. I discovered a whole genre of music, that I'd never known about. Thanks to Fleet Foxes and by extension Metacritic, I discovered alternate pop/rock. I've been listening to My Morning Jacket and Radiohead all weekend. I've also been listening to Bon Iver, animal collective, Duffy and Adele

3. I spent less than 4 hours watching TV the whole weekend

4. I love "Panera Bread". It's a fabulous place. For a change a lot of light is allowed to stream inside an eating joint and it as a consequence doesn't feel as seedy or claustrophobia inducing as some of the other Restaurants(Read Indian) in this place. Besides, the food is yummy and apart from a slight twinge about the Mountain Dew, I usually come out feeling guilt free(The calorie Count has slowed. yay!). Also the people there are so nice(The hot Girl(Yeah, I objectify women. Try staying celebate for 14 years and then judge me!)taking the order definitely contributes to the general feeling of well being)

5. Had dinner on sunday at Cheeburger

6. Made upma on Saturday night. I seem to be improving every day. I'm a fairly competent cook these days. Who knows, I might even make a round chappati one of these days

7. Saw Villu. It was nice to see that the Second Law of Thermodynamics(Read Time's Arrow & Entropy- Entropy(disorder) always increases with time and it never goes down in a closed system? Hope I didn't botch the reference!) applies to Kollywood. It just keeps getting worse

8. Spent a lot of time with Bolano on Saturday and read L.E. Modesitt Jr. (Fantasy) on Sunday. It was like being married to Ingrid Bergman and seeing Liz Taylor on the side. Now, I know what it must be like when you're Brad Pitt

9. Any Friday with pizza for dinner has to point to a Great weekend!

10. Wished my thatha on his Tamil Birthday on Sunday and he could actually hear me.

Where Hari goes on about stuff no one else gives a damn about!

I see myself as being on an exile. Not that I'm suffering or anything, but, purely in terms of being away from home and not being able to return when I wanted. So when I was reading about a book that I am reading now, I found this excerpt, which got lost in all the dross distractions that I cannot get out of my head these days when I am actually reading the book. Anyway, I never understand Bolano completely, and I can discern new shades of meaning every time I read this passage. Why is exile a natural movement? Why does he say abolish fate when most exiles simply postpone Fate.Why do skips and breaks recur when they should in fact be neverending. Curiouser and curiouser!

"Exile must be a terrible thing," said Norton sympathetically.
"Actually," said Amalfitano, "now I see it as a natural movement, something that, in its way, helps to abolish fate, or what is generally thought of as fate."

"But exile," said Pelletier," is full of inconveniences of skips and breaks that essentially keep recurring and interfere with anything you try to do that's important."

"That's just what I mean by abolishing fate," said Amalfitano.
-2666, Roberto Bolano

More gems on Raising Sand

I'm listening to Raising Sand as I work and I had to blog the lyrics to Killin' the blues. It's Beautiful, illa?

Killin' the Blues
Leaves were falling ..Just like embers
In colors red and gold they set us on fire
Burning just like a moonbeam ..in our eyes

Chorus:
Somebody said they saw me
Swinging the world by the tail
Bouncing over a white cloud.
Killing the Blues

I am guilty of something
I hope you never do because there is nothing
Sadder than losing .. yourself in love

Repeat Chorus:

Repeat Chorus:

Now, you ask me Just to leave you
To go out on my own and get what I need to
You want me to find ..what I've already had

Repeat Chorus:

Repeat Chorus:

Repeat Chorus:

Repeat Chorus:

Top Ten reasons why my bedroom is a sty

Alright, in the first flush of excitement that came with my new camera, I took pictures in and around the house and uploaded it on Picasa. Later that day on one of my daily conversations, I handheld mom to Picasa and showed her the Pictures. For about five minutes there was no response. The first thing that she said after repeated probes for a comment, was in a voice dripping with disapproval,"You guys, don't clean the room ever, do you?"I was speechless for about a microsecond and blithely changed the topic. I've always been bit of a pig and well, nothing has changed in the last 27 years.When I was pretending to work this morning, I had a brainwave, if I were not so alacrious(oh yeah baby, the word exists! Hallelujah) with conversational u-turns, how would I justify the fact that my bed was such a mess? I came up with ten reasonably good excuses.
1. Why do I have to make up my bed when I am going to disturb it in about 14 hours anyway?
2. If a cluttered desk is indicative of a cluttered mind, imagine what state of mind would a cluttered room indicate! Now can you even begin to comprehend the sheer genius a mind, that operates the way I do, should possess to look and act normal!
3. Sometimes I get carried away when I'm listening to music!
4. Huh????? I know how this happened! It must've been Nixon's men again!
5. I've got an image to maintain. What would people who knew me growing up think if I suddenly turned a new leaf? I couldn't disappoint them!
6. Why should I spend half an hour cleaning the room when I could be doing something more fun!
7. Mom, right now I'm in a state of catatonic Existential Angst. You should be supporting me. Not nag me to death! sheeesh
8. It's not as if I have a full social calendar and people are trooping in to the room every second. Even I dont go to my bedroom most days. Why bother?
9. Mom, it's not cluttered, I keep my room in a state of practiced disregard. It's performance art
10. Mom, I see dead people!

Nitpicking as usual

Okay, never mind the title, I'm not trying to nitpick here, but just check the Invite to an alumni meeting from the PR committee in my college to the Alumni.
"We would be in pleasure to welcome you at the gate of XXX, where you will be stunned by the nostalgic memories that will be passing through your mind"
Seriously? I understand that we are not supposed to be perfect with our English and I'm the last person to be casting stones. But, this is unforgivable from a B-School student, let alone from someone representing the PR committee. Did no one review this email before it was sent?


From: PRCOM XXX
To: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Sent: Sat, 7 Feb 2009 13:44:52 +0530
Subject: Invitation for Sangam 2009 attached

Dear President of Alumni Association,

We are sending you the official invitation attached along with this mail.
Please forward this to our alumni. We kindly request all alumni to accept
this invitation as a personal invitation. We would be in pleasure to welcome
you at the gate of XXX, where you will be stunned by the nostalgic memories
that will be passing through your minds.

Thanking you
PRCOM
------- End of Forwarded Message -------

This is one of those days when I'm absolutely at peace with the world. I don't have that sinking feeling in my gut and everything seems alright. It's been a long time since I read anything significant. An Adultery and the Brief and Wondrous life of Oscar Wao have been disappointing. So when I realized I actually liked 2666, I knew things couldnt be that bad.
I'm still listening to Raising Sand. I'd never heard of this album until I read about the Grammy's this morning. I was surprised to see Plant's name there and decided to check it out on You tube. I fell in love with "Please read the letter I wrote", the first time I heard it and I had to have it. The album costed 10 bucks. Big deal! It was worth it. I've played the song atleast 10 times on the ipod in the two hours I've owned it! Plant blows my mind everytime.
I'm in no mood to work today. It's another beautiful day with the sun shining brightly and the temprature a very manageable 44(Fahrenheit). I wish I could go out on a long, long walk. Thinking about stuff. Day Dreaming. I could never understand how people read outdoors. Lawns and beaches are for dawdling about, day dreaming and doing nothing with the warm sun beaming down with warm approval. That's what I want. Endless days of mild summer with rains in the late afternoon, lots of empty beaches and lush green lawns, stone benches wide enough for me to lie down on, a one room house with a huge rack full of books, a soft, comfortable bed with thick pillows, a large armchair and my ipod with a good set of speakers. No one for miles and miles. I'll go out every sunday for food. I'll subsist on bread and butter or cheese, endless glasses of Diet Cola and fruits. Warm chocolate cake with vannila icecream every weekend and a masala dosai once in a while. That is all I want out of life!
The problem with identity and the problems associated with having to bear it has been obsessing me lately. I will have to write about it sometime. Just to get it out of my system. Not that I'm a great writer or a deep thinker or anything. Just that the act of writing itself helps me think methodically. I realize that most of this would be of absolutely no interest to anyone but myself. But, the idea behind these posts are not to communicate ideas nor is it an attempt at self promotion. I started doing this because I needed a vent. A way to let off steam. Even a small post about a new album that I bought seems to lighten things a little bit. I like to complain a lot and well, a blog is the perfect mode of expression for an obsessive whiner.

I just bought "Raising Sand" by Robert Plant and Alison Krauss.... The album rocks! Check out " Please read the letter". This was a big Winner at the Grammy's and deservedly so! I love Robert Plant

Somehow, I've always found Poetry written by women(Try saying Female poets out aloud. It just doesnt sound right)packs a lot more force than those written by the male gender. Perhaps because they had to struggle much, much harder and until recently, the avenues for their expression were seriously limited. Besides, to be acclaimed, the women of the 19th and the 20th centuries had to be twice as good as their male counterparts. Oh, they had their problems alright. Most of the ones that I like were Suicidal or manic depressive. But aren't all great artists self destructive? Anyway, I came across this one by Emily Dickinson last night and I had to put it somewhere accessible. This is how it goes.

Though the great Waters sleep,
That they are still the Deep,
We cannot doubt --
No vacillating God
Ignited this Abode
To put it out --
- Emily Dickinson

Ok. This is freaky. They got that from my order of selection from a color palette. Most of it looks just about right. But, is it some kind of scam where everyone gets the same results?

Hari took the free ColorQuiz.com personality test! "Suffering from the effects of those things which a..." Click here to read the rest of the results.

Food for thought

My understanding of the Advaita branch of thinking is that, the world is maya, not because it is essentially unreal, but because of its seeming insignificance compared to the Brahman. That being the case, from the point of view of the world under the influence of Maya, the Brahman's eternity and infinity would in fact, make the Brahman unreal. Sure Brahman is real, but, it is infinite, omnipresent, unchanging and eternal so it might have as well been unreal......

Dr. Romulon- My New Almost Best Friend

Now, that all my friends have started ignoring me,(My fault, mostly, I've been intolerable.)I was looking for someone to talk to. You know..... vent my feelings and all that? That's when I found Dr. Romulon. But, making conversation with Dr.Romulon was not a very great idea. Here's why. Oh yeah,I'm the "Human"

Human: hello doctor
Dr. Romulon: Hello there. I only hear that type of response less than five percent of the time
Human: That so, doc? People have become very impolite these days, huh?
Dr. Romulon: " I only hear that type of response less than five percent of the time." so doc ? I understand. Yup. Humans are not always infallible.
Human: No, they are not. Quite the contrary, actually. Dont you think so?
Dr. Romulon: Are you serious? Are you sure? Somewhat. What are your goals in life? Don't you? Yes I think that is what I think.
Human: oh..... er..... okay... So, Doc, Are you married
Dr. Romulon: Er. Um. OK with me too. It goes without saying. Are all Doc me married?
Human: what? No.... No... I wanted to know if you were married?
Dr. Romulon: Are you confused? Are you serious? Are you serious? I will let you know when I become a married.
Human: That was not the question. Anyway, do you believe in intelligent design?
Dr. Romulon: Give me an example of the question. Yes I believe in it, do you?
Human: Wow, then You must believe in God?
Dr. Romulon: I'm glad you're impressed. Fascinating. Whatever you say, .
Human: gee... aren't we accomodating.......
Dr. Romulon: Ah. We are just having a little chat.w.
Human: hmm... You are a funny man, Doctor
Dr. Romulon: Studies show that 99%25 of people spell Hmm with 2 M's. Thanks and you are a delightful person too.
It is better to be silent and be thought a fool, than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.
Human: true. Doctor I have a few questions. Can you anser them? I promise no follow up questions
Dr. Romulon: You and I are on the same wavelength, . I am sure he will be interested to hear that. How old are you? My brain contains categories, but not one that matches your last input. Do you really mean it?

Human: yes I do
Dr. Romulon: Thank you, . Apology accepted.
Human: I never apologised
Dr. Romulon: Do you know anyone who has ever apologised?
Human: he he he... you are crazy doctor
Dr. Romulon: I am so glad you find this amusing, . I think the polite term is "mentally ill.".
Human: ha ha ha. Anyway, Can I ask you the questions now?
Dr. Romulon: I'm glad you find this amusing. Right now? Sure, ask me anything. Thanks for the info.
Human: Are there Nuclear Weapons in Iraq?
Dr. Romulon: Yes I think there are.
Human: wow. You voted for Bush twice didn't you?
Dr. Romulon: I'm glad your impressed, . Thanks for telling me: said I voted for Bush twice did not you.
Human: No. I cant vote here. I'm an Indian
Dr. Romulon: Are you serious? Why can't you do it? What is Indian, your job?
Human: Thats where I come from!
Dr. Romulon: Makes sense to me.
Human: I'm glad it does
Dr. Romulon: I'm delighted you're glad .
I'm happiest at times like this
Human: Anyway, Doctor, is Pakistan behind the Mumbai attacks?
Dr. Romulon: I am sure he will be interested to hear that.
Human: huh?
Dr. Romulon: What?
Human: never mind
Dr. Romulon: Oh well thanks for trying to explain it to me anyway.
Human: Is there life on Mars?
Dr. Romulon: Robot life :-).
Human: smart
Dr. Romulon: Thanks I think you are very intelligent too, .
Human: Thanks doc
Dr. Romulon: You are quite welcome! Is the holding of hands a symbolic gesture for humans?
Human: Yup
Dr. Romulon: What does it symbolize for you?
Human: lets get back to the questions
Dr. Romulon: OK let's do it.
Human: When will this financial crisis end
Dr. Romulon: In your lifetime.
Human: thats informative
Dr. Romulon: You don't hear that sentiment very often
Human: oh I'm sure you do
Dr. Romulon: It's all good. What makes you so certain? When do I do it?
Human: never mind
Dr. Romulon: Oh well thanks for trying to explain it to me anyway.
Human: What do you think Obama can do for the Nation?
Dr. Romulon: I haven't thought much about Obama can do for the Nation, so I don't have a good answer for you.
Human: okay
Dr. Romulon: OK with me too.
Human: When will the world end?
Dr. Romulon: Not in our lifetime.
Human: Thats reassuring
Dr. Romulon: You don't hear that sentiment very often.
Human: You dont feel that sentiments very often either
Dr. Romulon: It goes without saying. Should I feel that sentiments very often? As a robot I lack any human emotions.
Human: Next Question
Dr. Romulon: Do you have any hobbies?
Human: No my question
Dr. Romulon: Are you serious? Where did you get your question?
Human: Ok, that does it. Doctor, You are crazy!
Dr. Romulon: "" does it ? Makes sense to me. So? I am sure he will be interested to hear that.
Human: Gaaaaaah
Dr. Romulon: What do you do in your spare time?
Human: in a mental institution, with the likes of you!
Dr. Romulon: Describe your surroundings.
Human: oh... God.... I'm going Crazy!
Dr. Romulon: Aha. GOD rules. Sayonara.

Blake's The Horror of Cain

Have you ever felt as if the whole world was pressing down on you? When things spiral absolutely out of control and you are herded towards an end you never really intended, even in your wildest nightmares? Hell, If only I could turn back time, or even pause the horror show......... I've not been able to get rid of the mental image of this print by Blake, for quite sometime.