Category: Flawsophy

  • Bom Bahia

    I recently read a book on Bombay by Pinki Virani, and have promptly classified it under my all time favourites list. The book, by sheer virtue of tone and content, appealed to me, but on a personal level, it gave me some answers on my quite recently acquired unfavourable stance on Mumbai. Since this is a subject of my chat ‘wars’ with many Mumbai friends, let me say that this is a very considered personal view, and based on subjective experiences. And like subjective experiences go, it may have led to creation or reinforcing of stereotypes that may have further colored my view of the city. So, don’t mind. 🙂

    I used to love Bombay. Right from the 2.5 days of train journey that took me there. The two months of stay there were enjoyed – Shivaji Park was a common destination across the years, the other location shifted from Anushakti Nagar (BARC Township) to Peddar Road to Malabar Hill. I still remember the second hand comics store in Anushakti nagar – Spiderman, Superman, Batman etc – the entities that captured my imagination in my school days, I have bought quite a few from there; the long walks around Shivaji Park, and the temple which gave away those white sugary balls 🙂 ; the hunt for fancy ‘name slip stickers’, which would adorn my school books and draw envious stares from my classmates in Cochin, who couldn’t get it there; the eagerly awaited trips to Akbarallys; the South indian hotel (Anand/Arya Bhavan) in Matunga whose waiters my sis later scandalised by asking for Maggi noodles, and finally, the ‘oh, its over’ feeling when we started the journey home, from VT.

    Yes, Bombay of those days remains a sweet memory. My last 2 month stay was in 1993, when it was still Bombay. Barring occasional 1-2 day trips, we stopped seeing each other since then, and somewhere down the line i started to cringe when I had to make official trips to the city. I dont know if its Mumbai that spoiled the affectionate awe that I had for Bombay, but maybe that’s just romanticism.

    Cities change, as do people. I am tolerant of pride, whether it be in people or cities, my irritation starts when pride turns to arrogance. Arrogance that brings with it an unhealthy disrespect for anything that’s not associated with the city. Yes, every city is special, but that does not mean it should take away from other cities… they are special in their own way. And that goes for people too.

    When a person like me, whose only associations with the city are from the holidays spent there, can feel a change, i can imagine, how, at least some Bombayites feel about the transformation their city has undergone. The author says a lot with just the title – ‘Once was Bombay’. I agree.

    until next time, just some city zen…. 🙂

  • No more holy days…

    Last week had a very holiday theme to it. Technically, there was only a day off, but the particular day was different for different places..and work places. I had the day off on Wednesday and D had an off on Thursday. Well, a far cry from the good old days, when the Puja holidays was an eagerly awaited annual event.

    Its appeal lay in the fact that school books could be ‘legally’ laid aside for a few days. I still remember treating the occasion with all the seriousness it demanded, and even including comics in the book-ban. As i grew older, non-school books were gently eased out of the process. So were many accessory rituals like the early morning bath and going to the temple.

    Zoom to now, when the single day off is just another holiday to me. D does try her best to retain the last vestiges of an occasion that now exists only in the memory archives. But the link to the original event is all but severed.

    There are two losses that i mourn for. The first is of character – the character that differentiated and defined each of these holidays. The character that made sure each of these holidays created specific memory associations (our memory, i think, used folksonomy long before web 2.0) that would last decades after the holiday was last celebrated in the way it was meant to be. The memories now created are just another multiplex movie and a few ‘upto 50%’ off deals. I think we are celebrating more, only we have forgotten what we’re really celebrating. (pardon the generalisation) The second is of the innocence – individual more than collective. From the child who had oodles of faith and belief in the sanctity of the rituals he undertook, and derived great pleasure from it, to the cynical adult who battles hard to regain his faith, albeit in the form of spirituality.

    until next time, keep the faith

  • The Art of Giving

    There’s a theory about the internet I read somewhere that i keep bringing up in different contexts. It goes that if collective consciousness is the path to God, then the internet makes a great first step. To be in touch with the cosmos is perhaps the ideal state in spirituality, and while the cosmos does extend a lot beyond our planet, we could definitely start with being connected here first. And it is in this regard that I rate the potential of the internet to be very high.

    Every time we log in to facebook or orkut or twitter or any social medium out there, we come across people and things we didn’t know about before. It gives us perspective and changes our perceptions about who and what we are. And that reminds me of another quote that I keep using, from the Matrix series “….I do not see coincidence, I see providence. I see purpose. I believe it our fate to be here. It is our destiny…” To me, that rings very true for the web. There is a reason why a tool like this has been brought into the life of arguably the smartest species on this planet, and I for one, believe that its role is to further our evolution and bring back things that were lost somewhere along our ‘progress’ – compassion for fellow beings, and the willingness to contribute to things that lie beyond our selfish interests.

    And with that, I end my droning foreword, and would like to introduce to you, this website I came across – Rang De. No, this is not about Bollywood, but about adding color to others’ lives. I’d written about it in my other blog, and finally registered last week. The idea is to extend micro credit from socially conscious folks to the financially disadvantaged. And mind you, its not charity – you get back your money, with a modest interest.

    So I’d like to tag you guys on this. If you’re reading this, I request you guys to check out the site, and write about it (if you have a blog) or spread the word in any way you can. I have just used it for the first time, and  just got a report on how my investment would be spent. So maybe you can start with a small amount and see how it works for you. But we do so many trivial tags, maybe we could do one for what seems a noble cause. It will hopefully connect us and give more meaning to lives – ours and others’.

    until next time, add some color

  • Yourself

    The complexity of the human mind is unfathomable, and its not a new thing. While I differed with Austere, and said that its possible for one to know their self completely, I also realise that in this age, we perhaps don’t have the skills to do so. More importantly, we may not be inclined to. There are too many distractions that draw us away, in our routine life. Like I keep saying, we have forgotten the differentiation between wants and needs, and so, are too caught up in existence to live.

    From the couple of books on the Buddha I’ve read, I’ll agree to the premise that the first step in knowing the self is to be aware that its not a constant, and changes according to many things we experience – the stimuli around us, the way we react to them, what they leave behind with us, and so on, all part of the 12 point chain that the Buddha had defined.

    There’s a wonderful story in the book “An End to Suffering” by Pankaj Mishra, taken from the Chandogya Upanishad. Its a dialogue between a father and a son, an abstract speculation, on the self. The father tells the son to fetch him the fruit of a banyan tree, to break it, and tell him what he saw. The son says seeds, and the father asks him to break the seed, and tell him what he saw. The son says ‘Nothing’, and then the father says that in the ‘nothing’ he saw, was the essence of the Banyan tree. And in that essence, is the key to the self.

    With the technological advancements we have now, it is possible to go beyond the seed, and see what lies at sub cellular levels. The irony of it is that it still doesn’t take us any closer to the self. Its a snapshot of the lives we lead, proceeding with our existence at breakneck speed, trying to make our living faster but easier, but leaving some gnawing questions unanswered.

    until next time, be aware

  • Hollowed be thy name?

    Saw ‘Rock On’ during the weekend, and as always, Farhan Akhtar did not disappoint. No reviews here, just a few thoughts that the movie provoked, so even if you haven’t watched the movie, read on.

    Inspite of the movie’s tagline – ‘Live your dream’, I thought it dwells more on choices we make as human beings, the directions we take at crossroads, the compromises we make as a result of those, and the implications of those choices, some of which we have to live with, our whole life.  That, i guess, is why the movie worked for me, after all ‘Choices’ is perhaps the largest tag item on this blog. 🙂

    All of us have dreams, right from the time we were asked who we wanted to be when we grew up, and perhaps before that too. There are those who pursue it without deviating at all, there are those who compromised in between, but came back to them because living with the choice we made was difficult, and then there are those who live with a choice that did not include their dreams. The film shows all of the above, in addition to one more set – those who live a compromised version of their dreams.

    So, there are those who follow their dreams, there are those who choose not to, but the tragedy doesn’t end there, as gray shades are abundant. Those who are never able to figure out what they want, who live in a limbo of multiple alternate realities, those who chase the dream only to figure out that it wasn’t what they thought it’d be, and lose the spark in their eye forever, as a life is gambled away.

    Compromise – that was the keyword. While its very easy to see that a choice out of our dreams would involve lots of it, the movie also made me think about the other side of the fence. When a person pursues his passion/dream with all his heart, does he also harbor a feeling of having ‘compromised’ on the (for lack of  a better word) fun part of his life,  or the  materialistic things that he could’ve afforded if he had put his dream on the shelf? The opportunity costs arriving out of following what one considers his destiny? Will he be a mirror reflection of those of us who compromise and wish for that chance to live at least once before we cease to exist? Or would he have achieved a private utopia as a reward for sticking to his dreams? Or does that utopia exist only in others’ minds? What happens when you’re the only individual gold medalist your nation has produced, and you still fell a sense of ennui/hollowness,  a feeling of having missed out

    Which leads me to a question i read sometime back – ‘Is dissatisfaction in the nature of existence’, and irrespective of what we do, the climax has already been decided?

    As for the movie, it speaks about something many of us can relate to, and it is ‘feel good’, er, except for the part where i was met with stern gazes when i sang ‘Popcorn, hain yeh waqt ka ishara’ during the interval. So, you see, I do it all to myself. 😐

    until next time, bedrock

    PS. A nice read on the movie.