The Script

Reading is always a killer effort for me. The only thing which I would enjoy reading was the sports column of The Hindu newspaper that contains the India’s victory in Cricket. I love stories like anyone else. But more that reading it to know it I would prefer watching it. I would enjoy it better when that story is rendered on a screen or on a stage.

More than the story, what I felt that makes it more presentable depends too much on the way it is told. And that is what I can call a gift. Lucky are those guys whose mind is set out free to gallop on the ocean of grass stretching from horizon to horizon, farther that they can reach and above them the beautiful sky, larger than they imagine. Where there are no borders or boundaries for imagination. The angle they choose to view and the words they utter to describe something which we might haven’t even seen.

Excavating the art in what they see not as a source of living rather being swallowed by that flame of creation for the pure but eternal joy. A story telling is not just that art of imagination. It is definitely a collection of similar minds. A good pool of people who are granted with “multiple layers of thoughts”…that’s how I would like to describe a group of that kind.

So when these people join hands there art is rendered. A cinema comes to life or sometime a drama comes down from the heaven of imagination onto a stage. But still, something that wonders me is that why are movie scripts not considered as a form of literature. That’s something unfair. Spielberg’s, Padmarajan’s, Bharathan’s, Ranjith’s, Ram Gopal Varma’s scripts and screenplay, are not at all connected to literature?

But I strongly believe movie scripts are also to be a vital part of the literature world. There was one habit that recently developed in me since I watched the movie Inception. I had this movie in my personal collection long before I was in a mood to watch it. But an ambience was something that was happened instantaneously when I got to read the entire script of movie first. Well, a new habit. Reading the entire script first and then watch the movie if and only if that script succeeds to convince you. Strange!!! Isn’t it?? Because now a days even the actors might not be reading the script. But it’s still applied with conditions. You can’t get all the scripts of the movies you intend to watch. So if the script is available then that comes in the first place.

It surely is enjoyable. I think one should try it out that way to get the clear plot of how all a story have travelled from an idea and then adding characters, conversations, lights, location, music and all…its sheer brilliance!!! Nothing else.

A script was always been a dream for me. Not to film it, but simply for a private satisfaction. But no idea if that wish will blossom some day or not. Nevertheless, I got a new habit... Reading… I’m happy with that.

Cap Go Meh

Cap Go Meh

Mervin

What a day!!! Mervin, my colleague, the local boy who was born and bought up in this small Equator city in the West of Kalimantan an island province of Indonesia, is the man of the day. He is the one who took me deeper into the relics of this city particularly about the Chinese tradition to which i was newly introduced.
It was yesterday night, while i was on voice chat with Amma my phone squeaked by Mervin's text which said that tomorrow is the opening ceremony of the Cap Go Meh. 

Cap Go Meh (pronounced as 'Chap Goh Meh') represents the 15th day and last day of the festive Chinese New Year for migrant ethnic communities of Chinese living outside China .Very colorful, very loud, lot of energy. at times i felt even the sun gained a hell lot of energy watching this and giving out some extra heat in return. Above all it was a vibrant feast for my canon too.

There were around 8 - 10 dragons and around 15-20 people to dance the dragon to on its way to chase the dragon ball. Like all festivals their presence of color, especially red, was spread all over.

Touched you!!!

Even after hours after the event the bang of the drums and the cheers of the crowd and the sound of strong footsteps of the dragon-dancers are still not able to escape from my ears. Even though not as much as my own Thrissur Pooram, Cap Go Meh also gave me a great time.

With a Dragon dancer

I do not agree to the statement someone made that festivals are petty superstition of the tribal era which is blindly conducted perhaps repeated in the present day. But I find the role of festivals from a different angle. Festivals are one among the various essentials in a society to sustain and its culture and tradition as generations moves on. Apart from all these something which I have experienced is the pride that I come from a village or city or state or province or country which is famous for a particular festival. I have boasted many times about my Thrissur Pooram with all the details known to me. I’m just proud of it…

Anyways it was a memorable day…Once again...Thanks to Mervin.

A diary entry of a ‘Shattered Me’….

1st July, 2011

2200hrs

Blinking eyes has become a fear for me for the past few days. Every time my eyes finds darkness there starts the slideshow of all that I’m trying to get rid of. May be the diabolic force in me is taking control over things these days. I may run out of the positive energy stuffed in me.

I’m afraid…am I becoming an Al Pacino in the movie Insomnia. A character who starts losing his focus and mental stability due to lack of a sound sleep…am I becoming someone like that? I doubt…I seriously do..

Being alone is not a fear for me. But being trapped and unable to get into and mend my own problems is a torture. I know I need to live it through. And in the end I’ll be the one standing tall, victorious… But in that course I will have loses, which is meant for this life alone. Sacrificing them all means I’m betraying myself…which then makes that look like a victory to the world alone. For me, I will the biggest loser I have ever come across.

Uncertainties…dilemma…all are part of the game. It’s not a fact that’s present in my personality. I have moved breaking the uncertainties. But this time…I don’t know what I’m thinking; doing or speaking is right or wrong. Moreover, being misunderstood is a mightier ache at heart.

May be its just because, like what I mentioned before, as I’m running out of my positive energy. Could be… But, I’m shattered…thoroughly… That’s all what I’m clear of at this point of time.

Let Time take control over the game…I’ll step aside until it’s time for the presentation ceremony…

Think!!!

Two points that I got stuck upon whilst a general reading on the facts about the human brain:

     - The slowest speed information travels in the brain is 260 mph, faster than the fastest-recorded supercar’s top speed of 253 mph

         - An estimated 70,000 thoughts are produced by the brain on an average day.

YES!! We have a terrifically designed organ that can perform unbelievable pace and accuracy when trained and determined. As far as my knowledge on knowledge, there are no such barriers or differentiation as like the brilliant and the dumb-head as most or some of us were identified back in school days.

I was always attracted to the spiritual discourses of the Sanyasin’s of the Chinmaya and the Ramakrishna Missions during my school days and even now. Those were the days when an idea of writing such an article began to hatch within me. All may not accept, but this is just an act of expression of what I felt about the real us.

In several discourses on the Indian culture and tradition I have heard that the various Upanishads and Vedas scripted by the Sages after a long meditation that may last for a week or a month or even more. This is the proof that I would put forward that we all are “equally” pre-programmed robots. I “believe” that all the humans born on this planet with a normally working brain can perform, create or think of anything that the guy next to you can perform.

“Genius” is not a class. It is all of us. Knowledge is the result of a chain reaction of a deep thought. Let me explain.

You may notice a tiny ant moving across your laptop or your desktop screen. You can have normally two kinds of reactions seeing this. As mostly you may blow it away or press it to the screen with one of your fingers and rub it to the edge of the monitor and continue your job. But for a moment if you watch that tiny little insect you may come to realize that the fraction of life or soul can be the same that tiny thing moving across you screen and yourself and even in a mighty elephant. This route of thought is also capable enough to reach you to the destination were you can transform your so far knowledge of death from a different angle. Imagine where that ant moving on your screen took you to.

It may not happen everywhere. It begins at that gifted moment where you stop to think and use your brain. Use your brain!!! I’ve heard that a countless number of times during the school days. I yet don’t understand the logic behind mugging up what the poet thought in a particular situation. These are situations that kill the creativity within a pupil. Who cares if what the poet thought or what kind of a turn in life that made him to jot that poem. All are busy chasing the poet’s thought. There are seldom teachers who cared to explain their students how beautifully the words like pearl are laced to the thoughts of that poet and there by inspire at least one in that classroom to create something even better than what he/she taught them. All the teacher needs to perform is just to ignite that thought which can happen in a fraction of a second.

A spark of a thought wouldn’t take ages to burn up and show light to the world. That spark is there within us and the cause is there around us. As I said we are all pre-programmed robots. A weird route of my thought makes me believe that a taste of a person in some subject, it can be art or science or anything, which is left unexpressed throughout his life shall be inherited to the life they give birth to.  That could be why some of them claim proudly that “it’s there in my blood...!”

There are brilliant untrained singers around us who can perform even better than the professionals. Music and the notes could be there in their blood. But from birth we travel on a road paved by the ideas of someone who lived and died centuries before our great grandfathers. No one stops to think. Now the most common thought process happening is what status I should put on my facebook wall to attract more like and comments. That too is readily available now on sites dedicated for the status and wall posts alone.

There are several places on earth where the God chose his children to take birth. But we come from a country where God himself chose to take birth...that too not just once. There are records that prove that even Jesus Christ had spent almost a decade in our country after which he preached his important teachings. We come from a land where the knowledge enlightened itself through simple process of thoughts. Think!!!

3 hrs @ Dubai

I was landing on my birth place, Dubai, after 15 long years.

Seeing the reflection of the morning sun on the skyscrapers anyone could think that even Sun had to come down to Dubai to use a mirror. The metro train that came out from somewhere like a roller coaster gave the Dubai in me an image of an ever changing amusement park. Next entrance into my sight was made by the King of all skyscrapers – The Burj Kalifa, which stood firm on the soil of the Peal of the Gulf, brutally stabbing the clean blue sky.

With a slight smile and a deep sigh, I heard my own voice “Dubai has changed”.

Though I was just a transit passenger waiting 3 hours for my connection flight, the breeze that blew within my body made a flickering slideshow of memories in several repetitions. The fragrance of the Arab attar all over the place also added some life and color to the ambience to the slideshow of memories.

Was I happy at that time? I can’t answer that. There was a mixture of molten feelings that was bubbling. Dubai...she contains my childhood memories. There were moments that moisturized my eyes and also brought a wide smile. 

Dubai…This is where one half of my heart belongs. I can remain to be truly me, as I feel myself in my Thrissur. This is what I reckoned from those 3 hours.

And as my flight to Jakarta took off I thanked my company’s travel desk person who booked this weird route to fly to Jakarta from Cochin.And watching the fading Dubai beneath me, again that slight smile came to accompany the deep sigh when I heard my voice again “Picture abhi baaki hai mere dost…"

Mausams

This is a story that began with something like an admiration or astonishment towards a girl with a ponytail, who was 2 years senior to me. The only girl…no, the only student who used to run through the verandah during the morning assembly at school for collecting prizes. For whom I always thought that God could have given few more pairs of hands to hold more trophies and certificates.

One day it was announced in the assembly that this girl got some scholarship or something. All I understood was that she was going to Singapore.

Years later I happened to meet this thin and energetic girl on Facebook. Few months back, I came to know that she’s working on a feature film and named it Mausams. This was quite enthralling news for me. To see someone creating something that you have always been longing is so special. That was what Mausams for me.

Today was again special for me. Meeting Shilpa and Shivanu was the highlight and of course Mausams. A very cute movie handled with enough maturity. The department of Photography also was amazing with brilliant frames. Mausams - Awesomeness!!! Nothing else can I speak about this. Loved it!!

And as the credits rolled up, it was that morning assembly that blinked in my mind. There was a name that came frequently; Shilpa Krishnan Shukla.

KUDOS!!! To Shilpa, Shivanu and the entire crew.

The Climb

This is a kind of revelation that found a gradual rise right from the day I joined my job which is being revealed here. It’s about the steady income group; the so called “Professionals” of the society.

This ambience graphs a prancing horse like youth painting celebration all over your life. But there is a peak for every hill. One may have to climb it down once he experiences the peak. Ironically, peak is an easy-boring space. What thrills the real you is the ‘climb’. And unfortunately there isn’t a never ending climb. And then, on the way back after conquering the various positions, the social identity and all; then it’s the time to start counting the loses, relations, home etc that that ‘climb’ took away from you. 

In other words it’s often felt that the ‘climb’ of creates a believable fake reality where the real human being is transformed which he realizes only when he’s done with the ‘climb’.

But in a world like today one can’t always follow his heart because your heart seldom feeds you. Like what Bill Gates told “Money is not everything in life. But one should be rich enough before uttering such nonsense.”

And the dilemma prevails. To continue the ‘Climb’ or to walk. Like a cult. I too have to do the righteous ritual to survive in this planet. But one thing that I’m sure of is that I won’t let me count loses on the way down. 

Writer’s block

Writer’s block. I don’t very well think this is that what I’m going through. That is since I don’t want myself to be labeled as affected by the “writer’s-block” for I am aware that I’m not as genuine as a writer. ‘Aphorisms’ is never considered to be by work of literature or something similar. This is my expressions that one reads in this space. And Aphorisms made me expressive because writing was always something very close to my soul.

But now there are thoughts; there are words and there is a language...and all three of them like pearls in a plastic case are making that tickling noise in me. And I, very badly want a thread that can pass through these pearls to make it a wonderful ornament in Aphorisms. This is a brilliant contradictory situation out here for me. Happiness is piling up around me and so is the uncertainty flooding all over.

As I said this time too, I want to express it all. But where to start from is something totally confusing. Mentations, they are drifting. This is no writer’s block then. It’s a situation where I’m overwhelmed by the happenings in the environment containing me. I’m having bits and parts of many things to share.

On one side there is an escalating joy of a would-be uncle, and on the other a numbness of mind for being alone in this South East Asian piece of land and so on it goes.  

Is this avalanching of thoughts…is this grace?? Or is it going to leave that acme just blank. A blank peak is again having an unnoticed side. Meditation. Because when the thought-less empty acme is your mind, then is a state of complete meditation. I would really love the either sides of that state. 

Breathing Cricket....

Tension that drains blood away, heart beats as loud as it can be heard to the person next to me, blood cells racing as if the nitrous oxide system is turned on. This is not what I feel alone. This is a brief description of the mind-state undergoing by the entire population of 2 nations lying together on the world map….INDIA &  PAKISTAN.

Tomorrow, at Mohali cricket stadium, as the coin is flipped into the air, there begins a war. A war without spilling a drop of blood. The fans need assurances and reassurances that their team won’t disappoint them, tomorrow will be the most nerve wrecking day for the fans in both countries, defeat is not an option for either side, as nothing hurts more than losing to your traditional foe and nothing will be more joyous than knocking out your traditional foe out of the competition, perhaps the joy would be even more than lifting the trophy.

Its celebration all our in my country. Offices announcing either a holiday or arranging facilities for their employees to watch the match. The companies are forced to do at least this much in a country that considers cricket to be a religion and believes that GOD himself have come down to open batting for their team. Like always, this time again both the countries are going to have a couple of “stand-still” hours right from the moment the coin is tossed. There is unbelievable frenzy.

There was no other possible matchup in this tournament which could have elevated the excitement level of this tournament than a semi final clash between India and Pakistan.

And I hope that the live streaming goes uninterrupted tomorrow. Let the whole world reverberate with India, India!

I

I...I am the obstinate. I am the modest. I am the diabolic and I am the saint... I..I..I..!!!

“I” the most clichéd subject in the whole universe. It’s a something more than a word which is used to justify, confess, fight, debate and without any respect to the fellow beings everywhere and every time.

“I” that’s what one can find the most and hence the so called clichéd in this blog too. Every time its moves on like “I thought”, “I did”…and so on and on and on.

As per the conclusions that my thoughts guide me to, there sprouts a feel that this kind of a steep increase in the “I” factor have a straight relation to the increase or the influence of professionalism in the thought cells of the Homo sapiens. This is it, when told in the nuances of the B-language. People start thinking of the results before lending a hand to help or a shoulder to support, before they get in contact with a person etc…everything and everywhere because of this I.

Every relation now carries a higher percentage of the Business factor within. Some are forced to have it or else they will be betrayed by anyone around them…nothing other than a cornered cat’s spot. Anyone can play the role of Mr. Iscariot. Is it better to change your mind than to be a fool..?? I don’t actually know.

But, at the end of the day, if the “I” needs to be completely complete in the soul, there is something other than the professionalism and the business factor…something stronger…the Principles. I truly believe in those words that I recently read somewhere. “In matters of style, swim with the current;

in matters of principle, stand like a rock.”

That is the revelation… let me call this I, the blue placid sky with the clouds of all bad & good, negatives & positives, downs & ups, hatred & love, revenge & forgives, atheist & pious…along with other million clouds & let me call that sky “The Human”, with the purities & impurities of all affections & emotions..I like us to be ourselves in this very way...just normal…just humane…

Influence

“Influence” is a sort of motivational waves emitted from a person, speech, word, thought, incident, act or any other action or reaction, question or answer that penetrates to a person which then drives him for a task or an action depending on the intensity of the wave that his brain cells absorbed. This is exactly what I felt of this very word of the English language. Influence is never an imitation. It is only our version of rendering whatever we felt good when someone else executed it clinically.

To where my thoughts lead me to, Influence is the most pertinent representative for Spontaneity. It can hit you several times in a lifetime. Or even one can be his own influence. I have material facts that statement too.

Like for every kid, my father was the first one to influence me. The way he dressed, his LP shirts, his Ray-ban aviator, his driving actions, the way he pops open the green Heineken can and the slight smile that sprouts on his face as pours the beer to a glass, the way he say “right” at the end of a phone conversation were some of the various actions and conduct that was arrested deep in my mind as a kid. Even after 16 long years of his demise, when sometimes Amma comments some of my walking, standing, sitting or talking as similar to that of my father’s, I would arrogantly boast like the protagonist rendering a Renji Panicker script “That’s genesis…and that’s pedigree” adding wit to the conversation with a wink.

As I drove on the highway of life there was even more fuel stations that fueled me with some extra efficient fuel. Until my entry to the 11^th grade in school, frankly speaking, I’m not able to recollect anything or anyone that ruled my heart or fueled my mind other than Adolf Hitler. My friends called me crazy for that. That was the time when ‘hitleraliasvarun@gmail.com’ came into being. For, when they all were screaming about Hrithik Roshan and Abhishek Bachan, me and Hitler were moreover a funny combination. I never complained. Then in the 11^th and the 12^th grade it was Jacob Sir who played a prominent role of the motivational wave’s emitter as I said in the beginning.

From then until now, there were several other people, words and factors that influenced me, making me strong enough to ride faster. One among that were the words of the former Indian President Mr. A.P.J Abdul Kalam; “As a son of God, you are greater than anything that can happen to you” which is still my Gtalk status message. Facebook wasn’t this popular those days. It was an Orkut era those days. It was Divyachechy’s and Titiksha’s(are they my best friends..?? I don’t know that. But they are my sisters…from different mothers) testimony for me in my Orkut profile that set out a spark of self revelation within me and my soul. I was literally “self-influenced” there. They pointed out to me my qualities, which I haven’t noticed at all. It was a fact that I was recognizing me better as I read that.

I don’t argue that only humans can be an influencing force. Even Souls, spirits and believes can.

But in the twists and turns happening in this ocean, there used to be some tides that misguide me. There arises my iron lady, my spirit, my Amma. She is the only one who can blow the spark in me to a forest fire which strengthens me to swim against any tide, to drive through any tough off road tracks of life.

Apart from all these, it used to give me immense pleasure when I realized that I too have influenced some of them around me. This was understood when I hear them all adding some common words when they express their gratitude…they say “It was ‘only’ because of you….thank you dear”. Thank God!! Because it’s a matter of immense satisfaction to know that I’m considered as a good person at least for some people. Not everyone may understand that. But still I feel myself alive when I find at least when one in one thousand realizes that.

During our school days and after that for the various courses joined, there used to be lots of talks on self-confidence, on how to win and so on. Is self-confidence something which can be developed by just a speech? I never believed in that kind of ‘Instant Motivation’. I don’t believe that those powerful words could protract its existence in the audience for much long. Those are just a short-lived influence, motivation or thoughts that which fail to survive in the psyche of the audience as they move out of that hall. It’s ridiculous that people can also live a 5-star life marketing Motivation and Influence.

True Influence never fades. It is a spark that brightens with every breath u takes in.

This is what Influence is FOR ME..!!!!!

Thank you Facebook.

It happened again. Perhaps this is the second time I’m starting a post with the same words. And apparently, both the posts were made to say something that happened in friendship. By a sheer nuance of coincidence the other post was also written in March, last year. That time it was about a separation, and this time it’s about a reunion.

Dashing straight to the matter – in the past 3 weeks I got back several friends after a long span of 15 years. Facebook was the platform destined for this reunion. Of course, it wasn’t that easy for any of us to recognize each other on the first look itself. Obviously, the weights of around 40-50 Kgs that have piled up in each one of our bodies have the right to make us look big and different. J

It was refreshing to have those childish memories resurrected one after the other from among the various buried memories. Those days when we started to use pen for writing, the fountain pen and the pelican pen being the show off factors among us. Days, during which we all had a strong thought that cartoons, superheroes and WWF is the only caused for which TV was invented. Days, during which the “Today”, was nowhere there, even in our thoughts and dreams. Days, where the word ‘decision’ was just a word in the English language.  All these and many others, like the pages in a flicker book, displayed a quick show in me on the way back home from office.

Beautiful days. Really beautiful days. But, I’m happy…really happy that Good God is now returning us that entire he ‘can’.

It always makes us feel good when you get back something which u felt was lost forever.  

Thank you God...!!!

Thank you FB…!!!

A Movie Review & The Thrissur Slang.

Languages…what to write about the hundreds or may be thousands of known and unknown, discovered and undiscovered, observed and unobserved languages on earth that all the beings – including humans, the seasons, the mountains, the oceans have.

Yesterday, for the 5^th time I saw that movie again. “Pranchiyettan and the Saint” – A complete Thrissur movie… Its yet another point added to the “Keep-Away-From-Mind” list when I’m away from Thrissur, preventing me from feeling nostalgic...or rather homesick.

Unlike in Thoovanathumbikal, there isn’t much of the outdoors shot in this flick that pulls me back. But, the typical Thrissur slang to which I’m literally addicted is used throughout the film. People of Thrissur are popular for their wits. Rather they are popular for the pinch of wit and a mass simplicity they add even while they are in an important conversation. Wits don’t mean that they crack out jokes every now and then. But it is the essence of this dialect that proclaims the people of Thrissur to be witty in whichever group they mix up.

Here’s some light to the slang… J

As far as I have learned, the “Thrissur Slang” is a dialect that keeps developing every passing day. There are words and phrases added to this dialect almost every day. Combining two or three words swallowing some joining-aid alphabets mixed with the use of metaphors for each and every incidence and all coming out in the trademark tune of the Thrissur Slang. That is the signature that every subjects of His Highness King Shakthan’s land bears on his/her mother tongue.

The NEWS.

North-East-West-South…The NEWS – As in Wikipedia, News is the communication of selected information on current events which is presented by print, broadcast, Internet, or word of mouth to a third party or mass audience.

Earlier it was like bringing the information of what all was happening around the globe to your living room on just the press of your TV remote. Now it’s even simpler and easily accessible. Unlike the real purposes meant to serve, the so called “NEWS” is now being the leading entertainment subject overwhelming the Cinema, Music, Sports and all other matters meant for entertainment.

Personally and frankly speaking, NEWS is one such thing that I hate the most. My colleague, who is also my roommate often speak to me in exclamation that he have never seen such a person (me) who takes less than two minutes to read the newspaper.

Though I explain my theory, he was never ever convinced. I used to argue that is it not with mind state of gathering some information they read the newspaper rather it’s like kind of reading a suspense thriller novel. Yes, it is. One will realize it when he spends a minute to just stop and think. The hot news’ are just more similar and also of less quality in subject, language and culture when compared to the stories that run through the pages of a book or a reel in the theatre.

People started accepting that they are being cheated, the way they are being cheated and also reading and enjoying that vey same way they are being cheated. The newspapers and the channels rip open all the stories, the police findings and also the various impact that follows. It’s all good, fine and healthy. But as time rolls, there emerges some strange elements like TRP, market etc...etc.

It could be this pressure, which the ‘business man’ who owns the channel or the newspaper implies on the reporters that make way for this kind of an output. For instance, one can get to understand it from a very simple example.

Cricket is a game which is almost a religion in our India. And if match is going to be played 2-3 days before the game itself, the analysis of the various experts, pitch report, players’ interview, press conference and all such stuff starts piling up in the newspapers and the channels. And if any of the players are not included, the reason behind needs to be explained; and after the match is played, then comes the match fixing scandals, misbehavior of the players, umpire’s biased decisions and all such things gains space in the breaking news scroll. One who misses to watch the match finds it really hard to plot the scorecard to know what and how the match was played from the sports area in the newspapers.

I mean, no one is even bothered about the match. Right from the beginning itself the reporters, reports, readers and viewers get into the forecast and the analysis. Let me purposefully skip a major plot, the politics and the politicians, which and who gives birth to news reports at least in every 10 seconds. We live in a sadist civilization. Here, people read the news of a gang raped girl with the ease of reading a comic book. No one cares.

I don’t have any idea of how many people can agree with me when I write this. At one or the other point of time I’m sure that all of us might have had a wave of this thought. Don’t take the news to your brains and capture your senses. It will be just justice if the news’ are given the importance they deserve.

One major benefit that I have felt that the modern day journalism has gifted the public with is a strong rock-solid heart making the public capable enough to flick a smile on his face after reading or hearing the news of any great tragedy that happened around him… unless and until it is about him…. ….

Entangled.

2011 is now a little more than a month old. Though it’s only one twelfth of its size, 2011 was capable enough to move me to Pontianak, the Equator City of Indonesia being a part of a team of two. Another two months to spare. Another two months without the wind that comes caressing the banyan leaves, without the DHUP DHUP of my bullet, without the “we are the robots” the curtain raiser song of Georgettan's Ragam movie hall, without all other happiness’s of all sizes that that 2 kilometer circled town called Thrissur releases when she opens her arms wide to welcome me.

The people here in this part of the world, were celebrating the Lunar New Year (Chinese New Year) holidays. Those three days holiday were some sort of an imprisonment. More than an irony it’s funny referring those days as imprisonment. For here, we have all the stylish kind of lifestyle; except the net…the web…the World Wide Web. It’s being delayed because of the holiday here.

It’s a complete isolation in this 21th century earth to live a day without the Internet. I was just wondering how the sapiens survived without the internet and the mobile phones even less than a score ago. And especially in this country, I think people might even survive even without food, water, air, clothes or shelter. But the case would have been entirely difficult for this most loving and caring civilization to live a day without Blackberry phones and Facebook. I have often felt that the younger generation of this country would be considering the discovery of the Blackberry mobiles as the third vital discovery ever happened in the history of mankind next after the discovery of fire and wheel.

Generations are now born into the web, entangling them right from the time of birth. Hmm, but these few days without the web have unleashed a good and perhaps a great revelation in me. But it can stand only as a revelation. It can’t rule me…for me too, like all others around me is entangled in this Web. Staying away is not a way to get rid of it.

But I too don’t feel like blaming me for this addiction. I also love this web, the place where everything that you think of is just a click away. That Enter key on your keyboard and the left button on your mouse represents everything known to man; everything beneath, within, above and around the sun…everything….simply everything… 

Christmas to New Year 2011

Another short onsite visit is over. Though it was just two months tenure this time, it was felt pretty lengthy. But still the degree of two E’s that I gained was no lesser…Experience and Exposure.

So after the approximate two months of more work and less fun period, today in around another 7-8 hours I will reach home. The Christmas day is already born. And it’s truly a different experience travelling on an auspicious day. Though I miss the fun at home, a change from a different angle, at times, feels good.

And also a chapter of yet another year is almost done. 2010 was a pretty good ride for me. So far, no major accidents, less causalities and no death cases. So far so good…it’s not over though. Few days are still alive to be shot down. But the overall trend graph indicates a happy ending for 2010 like if in a Yash Chopra film. :D

Its time for the New Year Resolutions too like,

1. Not to cross 60Kmph whenever I’m on wheels.

2. Be steady and more observant on the market fluctuations.

3. Reduce some weight. :)

4. Make a long awaited “trip” with my Bullet.

5. Fine tune myself as professional.

6. To control myself in taking leaves from office

7. And, in between all these...i resolute also to keep Aphorisms flowing…

This is how it goes. It’s actually 1+6 resolutions. The first one is a default resolution taken for Amma. I don’t say that I used to stick so much on to that. But still I used to be glued somewhere around it…almost. But I can say that I have kept my word for at least above 90% than the 50 or below range of the previous years. And the remaining 6 resolutions used to vary each year in numbers and in words.

Resolutions are good. But every year end, when I take a 365 days rewind to construct a self analysis report of my Resolution and my performance, there used to be a distance of several light years between the both of them. But anyways, I used to be quite comfortable with where I used to be. I always used to enjoy this suspense thriller called life.  But still, ironically, again this year I made yet another 6 points. Humans won’t change….

Anyways, I wish my dear world a MERRY CHRISTMAS AND A HAPPY NEWYEAR.

And also thanks to the Suvarnabhumi Intnl Airport, Thailand which gave me this space, time and facility to schedule the publishing of this post for the very first moment of the Christmas Day….

Once again, my wishes to the dearest world and all its inhabitants….

The Crown of Thrissur.

“A very big temple in 10 acres is said to have been built by Parasurama. It is a walled complex of fifteen shrines dating from the twelfth century or earlier. Here the deity is Shiva. The famous ‘Thrissur Pooram’, fathered by His Highness ShaktanThampuran, is celebrated in the precincts of the temple. To facilitate the Pooram he cleared teak forests of 54 acres around the temple. The temple is enclosed by 15 ft massive walls. The Gopurams, four, in carved wood and stone positioned in four directions around the temple. Bali (sacrifice) stones in brass seen everywhere. The ground is dotted with stone reliefs of prostrating men. The deities of Ayyappa and Rama, as ancillaries, are in comradeship with giant old trees. The Adi Sankaracharya is also accommodated. The exquisitely carved wood beautifies the shrines and Koothambalam (Temple Theater). The idols of Shiva positioned all around the main altar.”

This is what the “www” have got to say about the one massive subject what all the 317,474(approx.) “Geddys” including me boasts when we talk about our land…the cultural capital of Kerala – THRISSUR. It is Vadakkumnadhan Temple.

But for us Vadakkumnadhan is something beyond all these historic and architectural measurements. The first feeling one gets on entering through the Gopuram of the temple is the incredible space and light. It is a temple complex that has literally very much to boast about its history, culture, customs, and devotees. But to be frank, I never used to make any prayers in a typical so called “devotee” style.

If it’s to speak about my religious views, I don’t believe the force or whatsoever it is, that which is called “THE GOD”, to be like a Genie from the magic lamp. I believe him to be a companion of my thoughts. I took the freedom that this religion grants me to pick out any form in which you want to see this force from among the 330,000,000 forms of GODS. And I chose this 14 crescent moons topped by 3 serpent hoods symbol out of the entire 330,000,000 forms.

Once, one of my aunts asked me why I am so much addicted to Thrissur. I guess that her perspective was like ‘what is there so much to get attracted in Thrissur?’ I told her that it was this centuries old temple complex that keeps my mind glued to this place. It has given me lots of loads of friends. Being the youngest among them, there were some who care me like their own grandchild, some like their own child, and some others like their own younger brother. It has given me a social existence. It helped me to make my life easier. And this all happened even before I realized that I wanted all these kinds of reliefs. The state of mind that I experience in that 9 acres compound bounded by the 15 feet tall, elephant bellied walls, is inexplicable.

The welcoming wind that rushes whistling from within the walls of the mighty state of the art temple Gopuram which caresses you as you enter it; the clattering song sung by the leaves of the adolescent Ilanji tree on the left and the Asoka tree on the right to the tune of the mild wind; and the several scores of the Banyan trees older than our grandfathers; the stone laid circumambulation path; the tasty Neyyappam offered to the Lord; the Om Namah Shivaya chanting…so on it goes. This is where I belong. How on earth can I not be addicted to this..???

Actually, this was one among the very first of all those which I wanted to blog. But when it is about this structure I can’t be spontaneous and instantaneous like I was for all the previous 30 posts in Aphorisms. But still, here I failed…I failed to scribble (the word which one of my colleague always used for mentioning Aphorisms) even a Nano percent of what’s there in my mind. Once again I feel we haven’t found out enough words to paint our thoughts.

Though not to the mark as I expected have come out, an attempt made is giving me humdrum relief.

I simply love my land….the land of Vadakkumnadhan ruled by ShakthanThampuran….

Vacuous…!!!

Blankness…it is sometimes a boon, sometimes curse, sometimes a cure and sometimes a disturbance. Yes, this blankness is a disturbance for me having nothing to scribble on Aphorisms.

A spark was enough to blow that shield away and make my dear river to flow again. Of course it’s not something called a Writer’s Block or anything like that. Writers Block happens for those frequent and veteran writers. And I’m glad to feel that I’m clever enough to have a revelation that it’s not something that affects my Aphorisms. In one sense, to be originally me, it was a forceful blankness many at times. And laziness was being that force.

But laziness is too tender to be a force. It is not strong enough to hold that spark from igniting the words to spread on this as white, as a soft and cute white cloud, word document. This used to be my only resort to shoot down the monster loneliness when I’m away from my dearest Amma and my Thrissur. As Thrissur always keeps me busy with one thing or the other, the so called “loneliness” is nothing more than a word of the English language, while I’m there.

Writing is easy when you have something in mind. But, it’s a pathetic scene when there is nothing in mind. Now, this is the next twist. Our mind sometimes behaves like a baby monkey, by switching focuses between the subjects in eyes and mind. And then from the branches of the subject to the rewind of the incidences from the past of something about the future planning and so on it goes. This becomes a naughty thing that disturbs you at times. It becomes naughty as it brings some of those beautiful moments from you past like a warm evening breeze into your mind with a smile on your face. It can be disturbing because if you feel like scribbling down something, and if this little monkey starts behaving in such a way, it is enough to set down the day for me.

To tame this monkey mind was always a tough task for me. And I believe it will be the same with the others too. But still taming has two aspects. Either to tame it the way you want it to stay or else, tame it the way it goes. And it is the later strategy that comes in to reality most of the time.

Perhaps most of our spiritual leaders survive in today’s world claiming that they have various techniques to tame our monkey minds. Hearing which the parents start pushing their school going children to attend the various courses. The flexible monkey minds of the parents as a means to canvas their ideology and various techniques of taming. Though an inflamable area, can't help saying that there are also beneficiaries of others monkey minds.

But I love this monkey a lot. I’m not stretching out to assume that I own a good mind. Being a part of the human race I’m also proud to say that I too own bad monkey at heart like the others…or rather it can be the worst of all monkeys that my fellow beings own.

But I hate the space of silence that develops in me when this monkey is asleep. That vacuous is a curse...

Voices

I would always love the voices, sounds and all those waves of energy which is meant for our ears to obtain and that makes a smooth and mild curve of smile bearing the feel of relaxation, admiration and happiness. The first voice of that kind is that of my Amma's. The voice which always fuels me with energy and courage. The first voice of any child's life.

There’s is nothing much on the face of our planet or among the stars that can bring out the elf in me when the situations and circumstances raise its hood towards me from all directions. I would rather like to call it my life more than just a voice. 

Rather than the word "sound" I would like to address those waves as "voice" whether its from the man, machine or even if its from thin air. And some of those voices are like....

The voice of Dr. K.J.Yesudas and K S. Chitra, the ace Indian playback singers, the voice that my 350cc Royal Enfield Bullet emits from his cast iron heart, the voice of my Sir are some among those voices which bears the capacity to either hold my breath or my attention at least for a second. It’s hard to just explain the kind of affection that I have for each of these voices. It can only be said that it’s a mixture of love, craze, adoration and admiration.

I feel it to be my luck to hear those voices again and again and again even if it's for the several millionth time I’m hearing it. I often used to be called a mad guy for this reason. Because while in the midst of a serious conversation where each one in the gang shares a portion of their contribution I may just simply drift from the scene mentally, when I hear the DHUP DHUP of a Bullet or the voice of Yesudas that floats with a tune in the atmosphere surrounding me. It used to be the DHUP DHUP of a Bullet that used to immerse me in most of the cases.

Similarly there was a voice. The one which I think is the most macho among all the voices I’ve heard. It was the voice of Optimus Prime in the movie Transformers. Though, just a click away I always have had an option and chance to know about the person who owns that voice. But, for an unknown reason, unbelievably I didn’t get to do that. But each time when I watch the trailers or the various flicks and scenes of this movie I used to wonder who could that be. But never did I bother to surf the internet to know who this guy was.

But today, I felt to know about this person. Peter Cullen. He is the man who speaks for Optimus Prime. And the one who owns the manliest voice which I have so far heard. It was the way he delivered the closing monologue of the film that impressed me. I’m forced to say that the film was beautifully signed in the end by Michael Bay and Steven Spielberg using his voice. It was marvelous. The beautiful words, the strong voice and the way it was delivered tantalizingly. I just loved it.

Even if I say all these voice does not mean anything and everything, Voice is a Decoration. It is a decoration only for a well pronounced language.

Here's a clip in which Peter Cullen speaks for Optimus Prime. 

Amorphous

Ordinary day, ordinary year. Period.


What’s the difference,…people. Stones, object this and object that. And then there are people. People lie around, talk, haggle, mumble, among other things. Very little point in trying to understand the ‘why’ part of it. They exist with absolutely nothing specific. Some say survival. Reminds me of Keynes who says, “In the long run we are all dead”. People seem to have a spontaneous character, history, some element of an explanation attached to their individual existence.

For the initiated, this character progressively makes itself evident in every element tangible to the senses.

The path from conscious action to the unconscious understanding.

Discarding primitive intelligence by the wayside.
Nice!

Am I a reminiscent of Nietzsche?