Robinson Crusoe...

...is a fascinating book. It has pages after pages of emotion, drama, adventure, history, geography, philosophy, and human psychology.

I had read the Paico Classics' pictorial version of Robinson Crusoe. Since then, I had harboured a desire to read the original. While reading it now, the sepia-toned amazingly life-like picture strips of the comic kept coming to mind. The book was written in 1719, and so the language is quite dreary and long, so I still prefer the comic.

What the book has on the positive side is the portal to the early eighteenth century. But it made me quizzical and angry the way certain things were written. For example, Crusoe's colonial attitude towards the first human being he meets in 25 years. You would think, he would want to befriend the new person in his life, for Crusoe is really hungry for human company after two-and-a-half decades of solitude. He keeps calling him a savage and then as if that wasn't all, one of the first words he teaches the new guy is to call him 'master'.

The worst thing is that it is not even subtle. You know how for example western world can become patronising towards the eastern world without wanting to be? Or how the most liberal people turn into bigots without realising? Daniel Defoe wears his views on colonialism, racism, christianity and theology on his sleeve.

In spite of all this, the book is a roller-coaster adventure. It kept reminding me of days, especially in Auroville, when money was sparse and how I had to keep creating cheap stuff from local technology to spend as less as possible on tools and yet derive as scientifically rich a dividend as possible. Comparing myself to Robinson Crusoe would be laughable, but this is a book where you keep doing two things: imagining and reminiscing. That makes for a great work of fiction doesn't it? Where the reader can personally connect with a rare occurrence.

Those of you who like to read some well-writ commentary on movies, in hindi, will like this blog.

Music From The Heart

Once in a while comes a movie which has an unattractive, cryptic title and looks utterly desolate and depressing, but is about music and that keeps casually tugging at your sleeves to give it your time of the day, that you eventually melt and relent. Two hours later when you come out, you realise it has been a fascinating experience. The movie doesn't have a plot to sustain for two hours, but the director, the lead actor and most of all the music manage to hold your attention all the while. I was completely drawn in, and enjoyed Inside Llewyn Davis.

One of my favourite genre of music is Irish and English Folk which is what features predominantly in the soundtrack. Reminded me of my childhood when my brothers and I would spend watching countless re-runs of Disney cartoons like Robin Hood which were full of Folk music of the isles.

Listen to Oscar Isaac singing 'The Death of Queen Jane'. One sad, lilting song. It's a treat to watch Isaac sing this in the theatre.

500 miles features on the soundtrack too. A slightly faster version with amazing harmonies by the three singers. This is a more commercial version as compared to the original 1961 recording by The Journeymen. Reminds you of a Hindi song, doesn't it? :)

Going Greek

Damn excited to travel to Greece! Don't remember being this excited in recent times. Yayyyyyyyyy Yipeeeeeeeeeeeeee Yahooooooooooo

Unfortunately, Corfu isn't gonna be in this trip, because I had just four days off, and I heard Corfu isn't reminiscent of how it appears in Durrell's book, so what's the point, right?

Athens - here I come!

I could sense the atmosphere in the lab. No one from the lab has been there before, and those who did had been there so long ago that they don't remember anything apart from name of the Greek beer. French are never vocal with their emotions. But someone in the lab eventually croaked, "I wish I could come with you.."

Aw baby, you can't. But I will get you loads of photos :) while you work in the lab..in this cold damp weather, cooped up in the room, blasting your heater..I will be away in Athens soaking the glorious mediterranean sun.

Off I go in a few hours..

Just Rambling Along

What would I like to be inscribed on my grave?

I don't know why I would think of such a question, but I did, and I had to think really hard, which made me feel good, coz as it happens, I usually come up with answers and solutions quickly, and this question needed me to think, which means it was an unchartered territory.

After some thought, I settled on this: If inscriptions are supposed to reflect what you were when living and what you wished to be, I would not want an inscription, nor a grave. A grave makes you grounded, and I have always aspired to be free. An inscription makes you confined to a few words, and I have always wished for being more than just a few words.

But I think graves and inscriptions do act as anchors for people who we leave behind. If at all, I would want the stone to say:

Free and Fearless.
--

There was a song in Malayalam for kids that mom and dad translated in Hindi for us and the Baal-Bhavan kids. It's raining and a sparrow is looking for shelter. She goes to different trees and says:
चिलचिल चिलचिल हम हैं चिडीया चिलचिल चिलचिल चिल
चिलचिल चिलचिल हम हैं चिडीया चिलचिल चिलचिल चिल
सुनो रे अंबुआ प्यारे अंबुआ मैं नन्ही चिडीया
बारिश में छुपने भर की मुझको जगह दोगे क्या?

And the mango tree would scold the sparrow and ask her to scoot off.

And so the sparrow would ask for shelter to different trees...and so on it would go, replacing अंबुआ with नीम and other trees. In the end, ईमली very generously would allow the sparrow to take shelter on her branches. The evils need to be punished, right? A strong gale approaches and uproots every tree except the ईमली for her generosity, and she and the sparrow live happily ever after.
--


It is probably true for some of us: 'in death we come alive'. I am not sure what these thoughts are an indication of. Self-destruction? Fatalism? I am not half ashamed to think about such things, and articulate them openly on this blog. Sometimes I confuse myself. I definitely want to live. Passion, zeal, blah, blah. Remember the last blog? But at the same time, if I think of death, I think I can embrace it. Maybe not with compassion, but definitely with calmness and composure. So yeah, I am confused by my own contradictions sometimes.
--

There's a constantly pelting wind on my wall, and I had a thought: What if the wind wants a shelter? What if the rain needs a home? Now that would indeed be a classic case of schizophrenia. Unleashing something, and then wanting to safeguard yourself against it.
--

Wish you all a very happy Diwali!

Joie De Vivre

Saying that death is the essentiality is an utterly meaningless account of life. The essence of life is how you lived it, not how it culminates. Passion, fervour, intensity, zest, ecstasy. I want to associate these words with my life. Don't want to resort to numbness. I have eternity to be detached and indifferent. After death. Not now.
--

The pinnacle of success and the crushing ignominious anonymity. That's the life of an artiste. These two videos triggered immediate sadness and smiles.

C. Ramchandra...People know him for his music, but he sang a lot of his songs. It's well known that he has had classical training, but for me that wasn't so obvious. He always sounded tentative. But listen to him in this video (which was 70s or early 80s) and the training is pretty obvious! Liked his voice in this youtube video much better than the original songs. The man has the chops even in his old age. Listen to the कणस्वर…the slight touch of a स्वर closeby to embellish the main स्वर...was simply amazed by his effortlessness and solid notes. And of course, his honesty.

This one is reminiscing the old times, revisiting भूले बिसरे गीत and a short and sweet back-and-forth banter between two oldies.

:(

How much more alone can I be?
Taunting, I ask this myself.
But didn't realise that I could break
And reduce from one to less and less.

Why

In science, we read fancy titles like 'causes and consequences of so and so..'.

Some people are more interested in why something has happened. Others are more interested in finding out the course of things thereafter now that that something has happened.

The consequence part allows you to find solutions on the things that have happened. They lead us to think about the future course of action.

The cause part leads us to trace steps that have led to an incident.

I incline more towards the causes part. So, for example, if climate change makes a species abundant, and another species rare, someone may want to investigate what happens thereafter. Does this mean the first species spreads and the second species goes extinct and if yes, how soon, spread by how much?, etc.

My response is mostly why are there such differences between the two species? What is it that makes the first species more resilient and the second more fragile?

This is in parts because of the training I received during PhD where we answered the questions pertaining to causes more than the consequences. We answered the 'why' questions more than 'so..now what'?

But this is also a manifestation of my basic nature. If I think about it, everything I plan is unplanned. I go by gut as far as my future is concerned. But once the ball is set to roll, it's fun to think, 'why am I doing it?' It is not the result of unsureness which gives rise to lot of whys too. This why is different. For example, going back to Auroville after PhD was a whim, and I did it without any plan. But for days together then, and even now, I think 'why did I go there?'. The answer could be as simple as because I liked it the first time and wanted to be there again, but obviously there are more layers to that answer, and it's fun to see within yourself, within others and the situation that paves the path for you. Analysis of a process make the hidden patterns to emerge, from which comes the insight which can impact the future. Or not.

So..I like the 'why' questions. I wonder why.

Blessing in Disguise

A blog and a scientific paper can easily occupy the polar opposite seats in the spectrum of anything that's ever been written. While blogs are personal and imaginative, manuscripts are completely devoid of any literary juice. The way that papers are being written today is to avoid subjectivity, unnecessary elaboration and repetition, and vagueness. Creative writing can easily fall in the scientific framework. There is only one problem. You can dare, but there is every possibility that an editor or a reviewer will ask you to modify if you take even a slight deviation from the detached dryness that's expected of a scientific manuscript. Hell, I have done it myself while reviewing others' work, so I can't expect anything more.

However, writing up my own work? That's a different story. I always have to rewrite all my manuscripts before I pass it on to my co-authors coz I write everything in a very popular style. Whenever I revisit the manuscripts for the second draft, I cringe at the thought of what would happen if ever some foreign eyes were to befall on this populist piece of (interesting) shit.

At such times, I miss blogging the most, and return to it with renewed zeal. Blogging helps me to vent, even in this sphere of life. It's all for good eventually, because the more there are of the drycleaned manuscripts (and looks like it is just gonna increase more and more), more there will be of the blogs too.

Kyon

My cover version of Kyon..

Youtube

Kyon from Barfi has been a favourite since it came out in September 2012. It is brilliantly picturised, acted and orchestrated, but best are the lyrics. Love Neelesh Misra. I believe he debuted with Jaadu Hai Nasha Hai and Chalo Tumko Lekar Chalen from Jism (2003), and has been writing some simple but meaningful lyrics ever since with songs such as Maine Dil Se Kaha (Rog 2005), Lamha Lamha (Gangster 2006), Khwahinshon Se (Holiday 2006), Abhi Kuchh Dinon Se (Dil To Bachcha Hai Ji), and occasional candyfloss numbers like Bolo Na Tum Zara (Fight Club 2006).

Lyrics and music rarely act synergistically these days, don't you think? Sometimes lyrics are powerful and the music ordinary, and sometimes the vice versa is true. And sometimes even when both are good, one of them is more overpowering, shadowing the other.

This song however, felt like a team effort between a lyricist, music director and singers. This is Pritam's best album since Life..In A Metro (2007). Sunidhi rarely sings low notes these days, so I liked it how Pritam did a division of labour here, giving the lower notes and the stanza to Sunidhi, and the upper notes of the stanza and the beginning verse to Papon. Had never heard of Papon, let alone his music, and his raspy voice is unique.

PS. Coming back to the lyrics, the first few lines read as if thy are written by Swanand Kirkire with words like 'baanware', 'almast', 'sirphire' 'luke huye'..these are all trademark Swanand Kirkire words. Can it be coincidence that he wrote most of the other songs in the soundtrack? The later lines however, are unlike SK's. 'Lafz', 'harf', I haven't heard these in SK's songs.

Lost and Found

Every generation has to bear a curse.

Our generation was fortunate enough to have everything going for us. We had good education, have good work, good money. We are well travelled. We have resources at our fingertips. We have means to get most of the things we want.

The curse is lack of respite. 
--

Even with a fast pace of life, there are some things which have the power to bring everything to a halt. A sudden standstill. Like memories. Memories of childhood. Of Aai and Achcha. Of Akash, Bai and Pitaji. Of Gopuri. Of Shanu and Shweta. Of friends. Of Kerala.

Those memories are not always happy ones, but the sieve of time has filtered out all positive and negative connotations attached to them. Some memories bring smiles. In most cases however, there's absolutely no emotion attached. Just neutrality. As if it the story of someone else's life.
--

We didn't have a television while growing up. I watched movies in theatre or on the office VCR, always in the cosy company of family and friends. Everyone in my family has been a movie buff. Even my grandparents. I remember countless re-runs of Anand, Jaagte Raho, Shree 420, Boot Polish, Jagriti, Disney Cartoons on the office TV. I don't remember much of what I thought of these movies. All I remember is the AV room cum library. The musty smell of the pillows and rajais. The onslaught of mosquitoes. The Good Knight-Kachhuachhaap-smoke of half burnt green neem leaves combo to drive the mosquitoes away.

And the warm glow of the flickering screen in the quiet darkness of the room where the five of us would huddle together. For me that's still the true semblance of a family.
--

The movie 'Anand' was a staple. The highlight of the movie was always the song Kahin Door Jab (despite everyone ridiculing Mukesh's voice). I guess I must have realised even then that there was some magic happening there on screen. Those 5 minutes where Rajesh Khanna (sans his herogiri) reveals himself before us made a lifelong impact. It struck a chord. The song is one of the best examples of revealing your deepest self to the world, done so in privacy and solitude of one's own company. There is no crude, coarse desperation in that sadness. If anything, it comes forth in a simple display of words, melody and acting, that misery can be poised and elegant.
--

My day ends today with this song in the background, my nose pressed against the glass pane of my room looking out on the Paris skyline, and the blue night beam of Eiffel in close grasp. Everything together reminds me once again how important it is to live every single moment, whether happy or sad, and that nothing is worth sacrificing little bits of time for yourself.

Christina's World by Andrew Wyeth

There's something haunting about this painting.

I thought the concept was brilliant.

It evoked many contradictory thoughts.

Remoteness. Disability. Unattainable. Despair. Futility.

Dreams. Efforts. Perseverance. Focus. Hope.

Then out spake brave Horatius,
The Captain of the Gate:
'To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his Gods.'

- Thomas Macaulay

30+ C can seem unbelievably hot in societies that haven't heard of basic amenities like ceiling fans. It sucks being flooded in your own body fluids. You can't walk for two minutes without getting drowned in your own sweat.

Rain brought some much needed respite.
--

Some places are meant to be sunny. Paris is meant to be grey and cloudy. All the towers and buildings and monuments seem more majestic.

उम्र भर का साथ दे जो, क्यों वही प्यार हो…
क्यों ना मिट के जो फ़ना हो, वो भी प्यार हो…

At every step, you want to be fair to people whose work is intertwined with yours, and be simultaneously aware of your own self-interests and that they are not being compromised. It's difficult. Sometimes these two things are in conflict with each other. So without pushing, you try to give an option to others. If they choose something, it is their responsibility. I can't take responsibility for someone else's decisions. Even more so, since no one is taking responsibility for mine.

How does one save one's children from the big bad world? You can empower them and then release them, like seeds bobbing in gusty wind. You can not hold them back, but you don't want to let go either. You can never know what is gonna happen to them and how they will turn up. But you can't keep protecting them too. I just want to empower my kids to stay happy and positive whatever the extrinsic situation be, and not just keep it to themselves, but take out some time from oneself and make a difference in others' lives too. A streak of sensitivity is a must, especially when more and more people around you won't be. I guess the most difficult part will be to teach them how to be balanced and open. My mind goes back to what my parents did. I know it sounds like a self-compliment, but I guess Aks and I turned out to be quite okay. And if I could manage at least that much, I would pass. Sometimes I think I will make a good father when my kids are younger, but will be ghoulish when they will enter teens. That'll be the problem of being born to a control freak.

Am so much more sympathetic of my parents now than I was in my 20s. I understand more and more the challenges of parenting. You want to do enough, but just enough. Man, it's difficult.
--

My stay in paris is equivalent to a terminally ill patient who has eaxctly 365 days. He is sad, but anything but complacent and every fucking second counts for him. I am glad for this feeling without actually having to die coz it makes me hungry for newer things all the time. No day is like any other. Yeah, I am tired much of the time and sleep a lot in my spare time, but I think boredom can be the worst thing that can happen to life - it's worse than tiredness.

I thank whatever it is that brings me to experience such amazing places and people. Every time I think it can't get better, it does. I seriously don't know where does one go though, from Paris. The saturation point will come some day when new experiences will stop moving me coz I have been to enough number of unique places and the tiredness will come when I will not want to meet new people, and that will be a depressing day.
--

When you yearn for something very strongly, there's a tinge of sadness associated with the achievement of finally making that thing happen. One of the most unattainable things for me in life was watching a Grand Slam, prefereably the Roland Garros. I did that this summer. To top it, I watched Martina Hingis play. While I am still not over that excitement, in a very very small way, I am feeling complacent. I don't like that feeling. I think I have a clue why that might be happening. Though it was never listed, once I experienced it, it became a strike in my to-do-list. I need to forget about the strike and just remember the experience. But there's another thing. The joy of first time is always different from the subsequent ones. The first analogy that jumps to mind is that of the first kiss. While the feelings about the person you are with now might be the same or even more fervent, there's something about the first one that is always special.

Maybe rightfully so. If one keeps obsessing about a single thing throughout one's life, how does one focus on other experiences? Feeling a little satiated about tennis makes space in my heart for some other joys I would like to pursue. So after all, it's not such a bad thing.
--

My natural state of mind is not positive but of perpetual questioning. Fortunately, I have a tendency to gravitate towards more positive outcomes and thoughts rather than the negative ones. If I face a problem, I wouldn't say, 'forget it yaar, be positive, everything happens for a reason.' I will try to fathom out those reasons in excruciating details. But rest assured, those answers are almost always going to be positive. The secret is that I know where I want to go, so all this reasoning and logic of answering questions and arriving at answers is a big farce. It's like working a problem backwards. So, though I am not a very positive person naturally, I seek positivity, and hence arrive at that. On one hand, I know that I am deceiving myself, on the other I let myself do that coz I feel more empowered, coz the reasoning is not half bad, and coz it allows me to keep my logical swords sharpened.

Mini Reviews 2

Frances Ha:

This is the season of black-and-white movies. Though I couldn't enjoy Oh Boy as it was in German with french subtitles, I definitely enjoyed this one. You would think B-n-W will hide stuff, but that's not true. I kept focussing on cracks, crevices, folds, wrinkles. The distractions of the colour are absent and you take in the frames much more. It gives a nostalgic feel to the proceedings as well, an old-world vintage charm. I wish the movie could rise above the visuals. The trailer was lot worthier than the movie. What was good was Greta Gerwig.

Man of Steel:

It was a mistake going for this movie. Waste of my time.

We Bought A Zoo:

Nothing great. Predictable.

Stoker:

One of the creepiest and more graphically violent movies I have seen so far. People are made off with for absolutely no rhyme or reason. However, very stylised and aesthetically made movie. Which makes it creepier.

21 Jump Street:

We don't have to feel inferior. This one is a witness to what trash Hollywood can produce given a chance.

Mini Reviews

A quick thoughts on the movies I watched recently:

Before Midnight:

I was so looking forward to this movie. You know what's coming. Yeah, I didn't like it. I didn't like it coz I was expecting something else. Though connected to the the prior two, I wish Linklater had made this movie not part of the trilogy, but as a movie on its own, without any past baggage. And what a tremendous baggage it must have been. Don't forget. The trio (Linklater, Delpy and Hawke) had been nominated for Oscar in the best adaptaed screenplay category. Credit to them, they embarked on a completely different journey of the couple, which for me was unacceptable. It's way too depressing with a tiny hope at the end, which is not enough. As an independent movie however, I liked it. On a tangent, I like movies where the characters don't change their clothes. It gives a sense of intimacy and regularity vis-a-vis cinematic fantasy and grandeur.

Mud:

Indie, small budget, big starrer movies. Simple stories. What they say about acting, also holds true about storytelling. Simplicity is more difficult. Mud is essentially simple. But not effortless. It is a forced simple story. Would I mind spending 10 € on it? Absolutely. Thank god for movie cards.

The Great Indian Butterfly:

It's a hybrid between Before Midnight and Before Sunset. In continuation of what I said about the baggage of past in Before Midnight (this movie doesn't have any), it also works coz we get enough time to see the softer side of the characters and their dormant but extant love for each other. It works as a road movie too, set in Goa. The movie has beautiful undercurrent with a meaningful message throughout, which is obvious to the viewers but characters are oblivious to it and are dicsovering it through the length of the movie. Loved it.

Sam and Cat:

Trash. If I had seen this poster before starting the 1st episode, I would have stayed away. Unfortunately, I mixed it up for I Am Sam.

Star Trek Into Darkness:

This was my first Star Trek experience. Being a somewhat loyal Star Wars fan, I was averse to the idea of watching all the earlier 700+ episodes and movies. I am glad I started with this. I am not gonna check up on all the past episodes coz watching them after watching such a superbly crafted movie is not worth it. I haven't had many 3-D experiences, so that was another bonus. That I was never into superheroes, stars, galaxies and aliens will be an understatement. I used to scoff at them. While watching this movie, I thought of front-benchers cheering for Govinda in a David Dhawan movie, but then such is life. As it gets more and more serious and hectic, fantasy becomes your respite.

Vinoba on Gandhi's Assassination and RSS

Vinoba said this about RSS in 1948, 15 March. This is edited and compiled by Gopal Krishna Gandhi (former Governor of  Bengal)

(Note: I dislike caste-based references and generalisations. However, read between the lies and try to look at the bigger picture. If you feel angry/sad at what happened in spite of feeling a bit targeted, the purpose of this essay would be served. Also, with Modi being touted as the next head of state, we have come full circle, and this essay couldn't have been more relevant than it is now.)

I wish to say something. I belong to the state where the RSS came into being. Here I am, having relinquished caste; but still I cannot forget that I belong to the caste of the man who committed this act. Kumarappaji ( Dr. J. C. Kumarappa) and Kripalaniji (J B) spoke forcefully two days ago against security arrangements; I sat quietly through. They spoke with sadness; I was silent with sadness. The sadness of a person who does not speak up is not made evident. The reason for my not speaking was that in addition to sadness I also felt shame. I have been living in Paunar (Dist Wardha, some 8  miles from Wardha city) for many year; there too four or five people have been arrested on suspicion of some kind of involvement with Bapu's assassination. There have been arrests in Wardha and in Nagpur, and further arrests are being made all over the place. This organization (RSS) has been spread far and wide and with great skill, and its roots have struck very deep. It is completely fascist in character. It has made particular usage of the Mhaharashtrian intellect, whether working in the Punjab or in Madras. In all the states its leaders and chief organizers have mostly been Maharashtrians, and mostly Brahmins; their Guruji too is a Maharashtrian Brahmin. The members of this organiztion do not take others into their confidence. Gandhiji's principle was that of truth; it seems to me that the principle of these people must be that of untruth. This untruth is an integral part of their technique and their philosophy.

I read an article or speech of their Guruji in a religious newspaper. It was written that ' Arjuna is the highest ideal of Hinduism; he had respect and love for his elders; he made obeisance to his elders, and murdered them. He who can commit such murder is "firm in judgement".' Those people are not less dedicated to the Gita than I am myself. They probably read the Gita with as much reverence every day as I feel towards it in my own heart. What they conclude from their reading of the Gita is that if a man can murder his respected elders he is 'firm in judgement'. ( in Hindi the word used was "Sthitapragya") Alas for the Gita, that it should be interpreted so. My point is that this group is not just a riotous mob indulging in insurrections and mayhem. It is a group of philosophers. They have a system of philosophical knowledge and they act decisively on the basis of it. they even have their own particular methodology for the interpretation of religious texts.

Maharashtra finds itself in a strange condition since Gandhiji's assassination. Everything here happens in an extreme way. The reaction of the --in the name of Gandhians--to Gandhiji's assassination has been as horrifying as the events of Punjab at the time when Pakistan was created. From Nagpur to Kolhapur there has been a horrific reaction. Saneguruji made an appeal to me to make a tour of Maharashtra. But what's the use of a tour of Maharashtra by someone who could not even keep Paunar in order, and failed to exert any influence over the of Wardha and Nagpur? So I kept quiet and di nothing.

The methodology of the RSS has always been antithetical to ours. When we were going to jail, their policy was to join the army or the police force. They would always be quick to turn up anywhere where there was any likelihood of Hindu-Muslim riots. The government of the day saw its own advantage in all this, and gave them encouragement; and now we are having to deal with the consequences.

The main responsibility of today's circumstances rests with me and with the people of Maharashtra. This organisation, the RSS, was born in Maharashtra. Only the people of Maharashtra can penetrate to its roots. So if you so tell me I will clarify my mind and work in my own way. I will not be committed to any committee. I will take help from all people of deep and firm convictions, other than those the RSS; I will take help from anyone who is dedicated to working by pure means alone. We have need of people who consider themselves human beings.

(Complete)