This and That.

How magically we fall into the nets of people, though how convincing we might sound to ourselves that being rational and unperturbed works at all times!

The enormous power and patience needed to keep the urge to blast off down to ashes is something fascinating to notice from a distance but it ain't easy to adapt and implement. Times have grown gloomy, dull and bleak. A pathetic situation of looking forward to meet someone for days together is here. Every one conveniently walks past me, ignoring my presence so elegantly that I often feel dubious about the presence of my very own presence. They do that in style, leaving me behind fragile.

Not one month passes by in ease. Every month peeps in with a whole new set of ordeals in its bag. They are thrown at me, to play with me, to leave me exhausted & retire to bed on each day of the month mulling over the never ending testing times.

Sirish is a great listener, I must admit. He lends his ears in such a comely manner which compels you to drain out all the built-in agony which gets piled up in stacks for days.

There is this mad man, sitting relaxed, some 5 hours away from where I am right now. May be he isn't mad. He may be just any second 50 year old in the country with a couple of daughters off his nuptial life. With irritating levels of orthodoxness and alarming heights of stubbornness and stupidity. He might stand as an obstacle between me and my purpose. The confrontation day isn't that far. No wonder he'll soon creep into my dream and converts them into bloody nightmares.

All these constitute my future. All I have in my hands is to live through it; as calmly as possible. My anger has always been a disaster!

The festival is here!

10 days of tumult and pandemonium is here. Ganesh Chaturthi. Celebrated gloriously at a cost of environment. Bored because of an off day amidst week days, I was truly jobless & spent all day stuck to bed.

With continuous prompting of my mom, I went out in the evening to breath in some fresh air as well as some smoke. The city is now well decorated, flashing with glittering lights and plaster finished idols, standing majestically as the epitomes of Hinduism & its popularity in the country.

I was wondering how much would it cost to erect thousands of such idols, so much of gala for 10 whole days and finally immerse the 10 days of celebrated investment in waters. I even wondered how many reforms or ideas can be efficiently implemented with that amount. A lot of 'em right? How many home(pe)less can be fed with clothing, food and shelter?

Not any of these thoughts come into our minds as we keep ourselves super busy & engaged decorating the idols with countless, grand garlands in the name of devotion.

A sweet offering to God is usually auctioned at the end of the gala & it gets sold off for whooping prices, say INR 300,000, if not 600,000. Where does this archaic behaviour take us? To a pretentious state of satisfaction? To a fake shore of accomplishment?

If He exists, He must exist in hearts, thoughts and actions. Not necessarily in idols & celebrations.


Serving mankind is serving God.

Open

It's been quite a while I posted anything but about me. The site has been showing only my updates from 3 months or so but not about any faintest take on worldly affairs. The reason was I haven't been active enough. Being occupied with bundles of work at office, learning to drench down in the internal affairs of corporate; all these took me about 4 months of time.

Well, it's about time & I finally grabbed myself a book to look into. usually, I stay away from autobiographies, as they leave us uncertain about the authenticity of the point documented in them. But this one some how got me intrigued. Thanks to the foreword.

Open - by Andre Agassi.

The honest portrayal of his flaws, weaknesses & their admissions right at the beginning of the book opened a door for the most honest work I've ever come across. The way Agassi poured his heart out, blue coloured, onto 380 odd pieces of paper was hot flame burning sort of.

I always hailed Agassi as a flamboyant, easy riding tennis man the sport has ever witnessed. But there's something raw, bruised and scarred fist size being behind that stylish Nike tee he sports. 29 years of untiring hatred towards the sport he dominated. The helplessness of not knowing anything other than tennis. That helplessness, transformed into rage which had beaten Becker sort of legends. There's some ultimate empty feeling after winning everything possible in the sport, conquering every title & mounting the top, he says. True, it seemed.

14 trials all through his reign; when the costliest rackets were just given away; trophies on the racks were shattered into pieces, tiniest pieces; that bachelor pad where everything is pitch black in colour including the toilet pot in the wash room, resembling his dark phase. 14 trials to just let the sport go off his veins. 14 trials to give up abruptly and vanish like a genie. Yet, that one last title in 2006 again Bagdhatis. That one last serve of his life, serving for the championship & that's when the finish line calls him; yells at him to just drop the racket & to get onto his knees and shout that he can't do that any more. Ultimate perseverance; Super human endurance out there in the match box sized court.

Never a single second did Agassi let me loose off his clutches all through the book. I was drenched down in those furious sprinkles of honesty; just like he does under hot water for 22 minutes before that last match of his.

Yes. He raced fast cars, dated much faster models.; exploited by media, humiliated all through his life in the hands of his father. Turned into a style icon. Went bald. All these were ephemeral. These just constituted an ethereal world, which people built around him upon the pillars called anticipations.

But deep inside, a man lies, furious, honest, poke-me-you-get-that-back-in-your-face.

Any body has to let their hands down, when it's Agassi whom they are facing.