Mid Semester Break - 1of 2

This weekend I celebrated by birthday with my friends, had my "The Last Supper" with 12 of them, and after that had my second journey (supposedly the last journey) to the dreaded hospital of A B C Roy in this campus commenced on the next day, oh- it was a good friday, i remember! It was a back ache which suddenly grew over me that day, and i could not sleep with that excruaciating pain.

In the Hospital, it was a hellish scene. People were crowding near the ticket counter, with two elderly ladies on the opposite side of the counter, issuing tickets with some code for which doctor to see and some number. It was a rather slow moving system, typical of this race. I guess this "race" should be called as a "stroll" as regarding its pace. So, I gauged that it would take a hell of a time waiting there, and since i could barely walk, so i decided to get admitted as soon as possible, so i decided to bye pass the Ticket Counter.

I was thinking of some way out when i saw my sociology teacher standing there. Though I never liked attending those sociology classes that they never bored into my head and i was the least interested to learn how society functions. And when i saw her today, i felt relieved as if she was my back up! She recognised me and i greeted her, contorting my facial expression to that of misery. Naturally, as she asked me What happened? I replied with gusto, as i was waiting for her to ask this, I'm alright ma'm! Ma'm it's severe back ache, and i am even able to walk a few paces. I dunno but i felt a sort of joy telling her about how much pain i was in, and that i added the sentence I'm alright ma'm! to show how much i was iron willed to have crossed three quarters of a kilometer to get to this hopeless A B C Roy Hospital, which was assumed to be reliable enough between the profs! She too expressed deepest of her empathies and told me to stand, and not sit, and then started her age old saga of how it took her 10 minutes to wear socks, and how she came to the class, and how we never appeared to have appeared...! What followed was a boring lecture which she was proudly delivering in the midst of tens of people, especially a girl, who was a sort of aquaintance, and was now looking bewildered at me, pitying me for whatever physical, physiological and mental i was going through. After delivering her lecture to her heart's content, ma'm advised me to visit some Dr. Sharma who was a very kind and good doctor, and who would admit me immidiately and may expedite the procedure of admission.

I saw the doctor was busy on phone, so i decided to wait for five more minutes, as now i knew it was the shortest path to hospital's beds. To pass the time, i started to talk to the girl and her friend about the cause of their visit to the hospital.

It were 40 minutes and the doctor won't stop talking on the phone. He was a middle aged man. He was too old to have girlfriend at the other end. And i never knew people could talk to their wives for so long on the telephone except when newly married. Lastly he stopped talking on the phone and i raced inside to tell him my story. He was a patient man. He heard me to my heart's content and finally dictated me a long list of rules on how to get admitted. It was like listening to some audio book named "Getting Admitted for Dummies".

After waiting for what looked like ages, i found myself at the counter. The lady told, "Mukherjee". I asked her, "I'm sorry?". She raised her voice "Mukherjee!".

I moved to the cabin of Dr. Mukherjee.

After sitting for 3 hrs outside the cabin, waiting for my turn, i was almost dead with afflicting pain. I removed the curtain, and asked "May i come in sir?". The doctor was filling some form, so he answered in a restrained tone "Yes". I passed my Ticket to him. He glanced the ticket for a while, and said "Thees ees Doctar Mitra, not Mookherjee", and showed me the code for Mitra. I pleaded "Sir, i'm having excruciating back ache, please admit me, as i have been waiting for my turn for three hours now". He asked me my symptoms, and expressed his deepest sympathies "I know you are een deep pain, but listen, you must go to Doctar Mitra, as I have a caartain numbar patients to see daily, and that numbar is obher. Besides, you shood come in the ebhening, The orthopedic comes only then!".

I was seriously disgusted now. And when I'm disgusted, my other personality, The Terminator takes the charge of this hairy body. I dragged myself back to the ticket counter, they had played a dirty joke with me!

At the counter, I Said in a stern and high tone "Excuse me ma'm!", the lady did not understand, perhaps she was not addressed with this courtesy ever in the past. I shouted again "Hello, lady!!". Now she realised i was talking to her, she looked at me, and got shocked with the expression on my face.

"What the HELL is that! U people are just sitting here to crack jokes? Was that a joke which you played on me?? It was not Dr. Mukherjee, it was Dr. Mitra, and i come to know of it after 3 hours of waiting and when it has aggravated my back pain! You people are just crap! Mazaak bana rakha hai aap logon ne!!"

"Hum Mookherjee us ladka ka naam bola!" (I was calling the guy named Mukherjee, i Did not address you!)

"I asked you twice, and you replied the same, did not you?" i retorted. she was listening now silently. The starting of the week- and it was a blunder in which she was badly entangled! Two enthusiastic dada- bhai (bengali for "big brother") came forward as her saviours to save her from this tormentor!

"Ees Thees the way to talk to an elderly lady?"

"Do you see what has she done? It's because of her casualness that i'm suffering!"

"Yays, but you shood be respectphool towards har!"

"Hey Lady, now, don't engage yourself on phone, get back to work- and i want it immidiately!" i shouted at her, turning towards her.

"Are iyou a istudent?" another dada retorted.

"Yes!" i dared him in the eyes. It was after long that i was aggressive enough, that i could dare someone.

"No! iyou are not IITian"

"Don't you tell me who is an IITian- this lady has committed a blunder, sitting there, gossiping, and now see what has she done! You people are apathetic towards students!"

"Listen to me! Don't you speak! She is overworked!! They are the phirst ones to come here and leabhe in the last."

"On Monday Morning, at 9:30 AM? And do you know how many hours i attend classes? 12 hours a day!" i was feeling like diety Durga on her mission for these Mahishasurs of the society. Let this man be the prof, i don't care, today, i'll beat this system of theirs, the system of lethargy, the system of foolishness and the system against the students. Knowing that they don't retort, these people harass them. I was not in a mood to tolerate this any further.

The other dada said in a tone milder than ever "Iyou have no caartesy phor eldars, and iph iyou shout, i bhill make sure iyou are not treated here" he said this retreating back in the crowd, with the crowd looking at me, some of them sympathising with the lady at the counter, and some, of course finding this pleasurable!

"This is MY IIT, and Band, and cholbe na won't go here!" i said in a definite

"And YOU! write it down, don't dare gossip again!" I whacked the lady, again.

She returned my record book to me with the renewed ticket- with Mi (for Mitra) corrected to Mu (For Mukherjee)!

When i entered the doctor's chamber, he still was busy filling the same application form. He saw me enter, and squeaked "Oh! What Dipherence daaz it mayke, Mitra or Mukherjee, it's daa same! Actually... I had saam wark to do, that's why... you want to get admitted, i'll phill the phorm phor you! Pleej seet"

"It's too much pain to sit down." and i told him my symptoms.

In next 30 minutes, i was admitted.

I stayed in ABC Roy hospital for the next 5 days, and i left it with a renewed confidence that i gained in myself that day.

(To be continued...)

Unexplained Answer

"Rishivar aisa kyun hai ki hum aur hamara chitt unke liye vyakul hota hai jo humse prem nahin karte?"

(Translation: Why is it that we keep ourselves entangled with those who have left us far behind, oh The knowledgeable one, please tell us? shloka 12-45, Shree Durga-saptashati)

I always pondered if this was true in any case that when one acknowledged the fact that one was not loved, yet he had a soft corner about people who never had any corner for that blessed soul in their hearts! Is it not unnatural for us to think and react in this manner, however kiddish it may seem?

It is like a kid reacting in a bazaar for a teddy bear or a toy-train he understands that he is going to get only when he tops in the class, and that, is a tedious task at hand!

And i used to wonder that if this is the case then i figured out that the best solution would be to reject the wretched soul. To react properly and practically is an art which comes naturally to a small sect of people, The GM is the chairman of this sect.

My father used to tell me in my childhood "Life is a football match. People will try to abase you! Try to evade their moves and take the football to the goal." I never Understood it's complete meaning. I'm still trying to understand it. If we start bashing the opponents in the football match itself, we will lose the football. And what if we are attracted towards them, we start loving them? Weird idea it may be, but i created a hypothetical scene where two best buddies are in opposite teams. If they start playing their friendship tune in the match then both teams will face the music!

Simply said, i guess that what i thought earlier in my childhood is easily forgotten when in need.

Recently i went through another heartbreak. It was clear from the opposite party that she never loved me, for i was her teddy. You never love your teddy bear, you play with it! So today when someone asked me about why don't we both talk, i tried to evade this heartburning question, for i did not want to have another dose of this heart ache. I tried to elude this small girl, but the question was not that simple for me, because i was a grown up. And this little girl shot a missile from her bazooka. i could not think of any solution to it, rather i did not explain the answer to her, and i said Get lost to her! She quitened up. But this question was still echoing, and i didn't know the way to ask echo to get lost.

I loved this woman. I later learnt she did not love me. She did not defend herself when i charged her for this. It was a silence on her behalf. I accepted it as in accord with my charges. I thought she accepted it all. I still don't know what was in her mind. We do not talk any longer. And suddenly this girl comes into the picture just to ask me this question "What happened between you two?" and i get disturbed.

I still loved her. Assuming that she did not, why was i loving her? I now understood my childhood question that why don't people let go of those who don't love them anymore! It is exactly akin to the child in bazaar shouting hoarse for a teddy bear which he knows he is not getting! So the solution is simple too, we should stop worrying about the person who doesn't seem to care about us! It is a difficult thing from an adult perspective, but if thought from a viewpoint of a child, it's easy...

There was some better solution given in The scripture mentioned in the opening sentence, but i could not comprehend it. I guess i'm still young to understand those heavyweight ideas and it will take me another few decades to unravel the concept, and then i will write another PriLog-ic about Explainable Answers.

Malice in Wonderland

I don't remember much except that i drowned in some sort of deep slumber, later to be found in some bed of B C Roy (i learnt later that it was bed number 8), the local hospital in IIT Kharagpur campus. I was surrounded by some of my friends, my elder cousin (who also studied here) and the nurse. I was bewildered for a while. It was for two reasons that i could not guesstimate the numbers of hours i was in that blackbox of memory, neither could i make out how did i happen to come to this place, perhaps some hospital, nor, how did these people gather around me. Okay, Rakesh and my cousin were acquaintances, but Jha ji and him? My body ache made me realised that my epilepsy had relapse, and so did the nurse. I could recollect being taken to some place on a stretcher and someone holding me so that i did not fall from it.

It was a very tiresome and gruesome wednesday evening of september 2003, the date being not of much importance here. I had neither eaten for the past two days, nor did i sleep. Moreover, the design class had been average for me, for the professor, let's call him AB, shouted, or rather, Sang his hymn for me and i had no option but to face the music! As a result, i was left a bit confused that evening as what should be my next move to please this buzzing hornet AB who was always ready to sting me on my butt!

I remember loading some site on the browser of Rakesh, in his Nehru abode, when i fell into a slumber and then regained consciousness in B C Roy. As soon as i realised i'm in B C Roy, i was shocked beyond all limits. It was not Epilepsy which had me bombed, but the dread of being in the B C Roy building, which was notorious for giving expired medicine to students and giving an intraveinous dose of an intramascular injection! In any case, i had to remain there, as i was too weak to run from there. What i observed was some pain in my right hand. i found a salitube going in my body- i did not need it- but who cared what i needed! The nurse came and administered some dose of Tigretol, a family of drugs given to epilepsy patients. I cursed my fate then, and then started cursing AB. It was solely because of him that epilepsy had relapsed, and i did not deserve that bed number 8.

My parents came and met all the characters in this story, the deans, the head, the faculty advisor aka facad and last but not the least, the concerned prof, who, by now was more concerned about some answer he had to give to my parents. It was then a Warsa pact between them in which it was decided that i had to continue as an epilepsy patient, in his class.

It was outrageous, if the person i thought responsible for messing up my life was let go free in this manner. I asked my father I want to Lodge an FIR against this man who thinks himself to be a Monarch. It'll shredder him in bits and pieces! My father said, in a grave and melancholic tone I never would have done this. But if you want to do this, be my guest, but i'm not with you! I felt shackles binding me. I felt as if i was suffocating in the public inpatient ward of B C Roy. I almost screamed I want that man behind bars! My father did not reply me. His silence was far more stronger than my shout.

As the luck would have it, i flunked in the subject- by some- 4 marks. I called home and spent remaining balance of my cell phone that day crying. The rest of the 3 years went in sulk. I never had a goal in my mind. I never cared to, or better expressed, never dared to look into the bigger picture of life.

The life always has a very large canvas on which she keeps painting something or the other, and the events are just a small patch of colours on this very huge canvas. Some of us see this canvas with a myopic vision, some see the portrait crystal clear, and some, akin to me, are casual enough to ignore this panoramic landscape of life called as goal.

My goal was just to clear Joint Entrance Examination, IIT; and i just had did it in 2001. So what? After this, the road lead to just nowhere! It was a cul de sac for me! something from this cul de sac spurred my life to take a U-turn. This called for a waste of some time, say about a year, and then, i was in mainstream again, live and electrifying!

I now know what is my goal. Now do i see this whole picture more clearly, and now every thing, even the seemingly blot like thing on the canvas now does not look as a blot at all, everything fits into the place! It's as if some masterpiece in the making, and every random stroke seems to be making some sense! And all this i learnt when i was bed ridden after 2 and a half years, in bed number 6, opposite to the bed from which all had started in B C Roy hospital.

This article was about to end here itself, leaving people to guess the rest half of the story, but then someone sitting there thousands of mile away inspired me so that i continue this article and end it more appropriately.

The lady asked about my past, and perhaps the things started to become more clear, the purpose, more visible, and the nitty- gritty, clearer still! (My goal is less important here than the inner details of the matter)

I was shattered after the epileptic seizure. I had no goal to live for, and i had no peace of mind. I used to plan about avenging for my life's misfortune. Then, it all happened that another professor entered into this picture. Noone pointed me this, but i was bound to assume him as my role model. I was highly impressed by his intellect, as well as his humane nature. He once told me, letting someone go relieves you. It's not in my nature to penalise someone for the wrong he did to me. I was ghast, for i thought my father was just an example of anachronism, that he should have been here ages ago. And now, i was hearing the same idea for the second time! There had to be some truth in that, what was it?

Was it that letting go makes your soul lighter than others? At least not in my case! So how did these two people zeroed in on the same concept, and they are happier than me?

The answer struck me when i realised that letting go of someone gives you a chance to concentrate on your goal rather than deviating from it. moreover, it keeps the temper down, and thus again gives a chance to be happier.

Superficially this explanation was complete in itself. And i had been convincing myself that i had forgiven AB for whatever he did.

I realised this time, when i landed up in hospital that to forgive someone, one has to first look into the truth vis- a- vis and subsequently look into the whole "broad picture". And when one is able to do so, he is relieved of all the miseries caused by the truth itself, and he is able to forgive.

I forgave AB on bed number 6, Room number 215, B C Roy Hospital.

The Virtue of Karma

Recently, rather, a few minutes ago, i read some poetry by Susheela, my next door neighbour, who lives at a stone's throw from my Hall of residence. Although i am running short of time this week, and i certainly agree that i still am not fulfilling my duties by finishing off my assignments as i'm writing this blog, but this blog of hers started off my train of thoughts that i could not refrain from scribing the thoughts. Actually she has pressed the button of the machinery without knowing what is there as the outcome!

First, I'll try my best to rephrase her poetry (pardon, sush, for i'm not an artist, so i may not be wise enough to be just enough with your kriti). To be honest, i could not copy and paste her article here, that's why i am re- narrating the whole sequence!

It is after reading her poetry, it clicked to me how this story unfolds into some other legend. So here goes the Story of Ahilya:

It was The Treta Yug, the second aeon according to Hindu Mythology, when common man was intelligent enough and sins were not yet prevalent. Ahilya and her husband Gautam, the sage lived in the woods. Mr. Gautam had a fixed routine of bathing at Dawn and then spending his day praying the dieties. Ahilya, as like sincere women of that time used to manage the household with her full devotion. It was a calm life for them, without any ripples. The couple shared the aura of integrity, honesty and responsibilty.

But however calm the life may be, it always has some checkpoints for us to either succeed and pass through it, or fail there and learn a lesson. As the luck would have it, God Chandra aka Moon happened to pass by their abode, and as he saw Ahilya, he got impressed by her beauty (read "her aura", for beauty is just skin deep) . He started keeping an eye on the couple to find some way to satisfy his want. After spending a few moments he found that he could have his chance only when Gautam went for his daily bath.

That fateful day, Gautam left for his daily bath. Ahilya was winding the bed when Gautam came back, he had forgotten something back home and had returned to get it. Ahilya gave him whatever he wanted, but that day, Ahilya could not resolve his smirk. She was uknown to all what was going around her. and suddenly she saw another Gautam Standing on the door! Then who was he in whose embrace had she been till now!! The real Gautam, in his rage cursed her to become a stone, until Maryada Purushottam touched her.

Ah! So a Lady, though honest was turned into a mannequin! comment some on this story. But i have a different viewpoint, so here goes my analysis:

Ahilya no doubt was Honest and undoubtedly truthful, but what she lacked was the insight. The quality of differentiating the true from the imitation. She was not punished for her deed, in my point of view, she paid for her ignorance. Who says Ignorance is Bliss?

The Sage, he had his spiritual powers reduced by the curse he bestowed on Ahilya. So he learnt that Anger was indeed futile.

As for the Deity Chandra, the mass still remembers his deed! What a disgrace.

What Susheela wrote was the plea of a statue, a rock.

My question had been the same hitherto "Why me, O GOD! relieve me of this misery!" until i heard this second legend.

A prologue before i start this legend, that i forgot when did all this happen, perhaps it was Treta Yug, again!Since i don't remember the aeon, so i will start it in "Once Upon A Time" manner. Anyways, here it goes:

Once upon a time, there was a great Sage, who alongwith his wife and two children lived on the outskirts of a town, in fringes of a woody area. He was famous for his strong belief in Karma. He and his family went from door to door to collect some eatables. At the end of the day, they would consume half of whatever they collected and rest half of it for yajna (The sacred offering). The Yajna was famous for the Karma-phal (the resultant of Karma) it generated. The monthly yajna was famous even between various Deities and they too used to come to attend it.

As like other times, the Yajna had come to a successful end and everybody had parted. This family was about to dine, when they heard

"Kuchh khane ko milega, ya sab khatm ho chuka?"

Won't I get something to eat, or is it over?

It was Durvasa (The incarnation of Lord Shiva, whose bouts of anger had a history). Thankfully, the family hadn't yet started, so they invited him in, and the Sage served Durvasa his share of dinner. The food was nice, and Durvasa was hungry. He quickly ate all of it and asked for seconds. The husband did not have to tell, the wife came forward and now she too offered him her share. It was a worry for the husband that the wife will have to remain hungry for the whole day, but there was more to come. Durvasa still was hungry as ever. So eventually the children too gave him their share without any hassle, and that sufficed Durvasa. He left after that. That day, the family had to sleep hungry.

And then, it had become a monthly routine that Durvasa would come when everyone had left after the Yajna, and he would eat all the food left, as a consequence of which the family would starve for the whole day.

Indra (The king of all deities) was monitoring this and was deeply impressed with this sage. So he ordered his two of his servants to invite this sage to heaven at any cost whatever it may be.

So, both the servants appeared before the sage and asked him to come along with them to the Heaven, as he now deserved to be in.

The sage asked Could you please define what is Swarg (Heaven)?

Everybody knows the difference between Heaven and Hell, and you too are aware of that, Oh wise one! the messengers replied.

But I want to know in definite terms what is a Heaven?

A heaven is a place where you get all the facilities which anyone can just imagine of, in this material world! replied the messengers.

I understand! So there must be in some what that one has to pay some price for such amenities?

Yes, certainly! You pay there in terms of your karma- phal.

Is it then, that my karma- phal gets depreciated as a price for those faciliities?

Yes Sire! You are true enough.

What happens when my karma- phal depreciates?

You are born again, we won't lie to you, Sire, but this is called as the cycle of life and death.

Is there any upper threshold of Karma- phal to get into this heaven, and what happens, when a mortal crosses that upper bound?

There is an Upper limit! and when a mortal crosses it, he then is able to come out of this infinite cycle of life. This is how the affairs are. So, may we take you with us? Lord Indra awaits for you there!

I refuse to leave this material place, for I never wanted anything else than The pleasure of achievement after the struggle, which is karma. I never yearned for material pleasure. You people may leave, and do convey my regards and pardon to Indra. Smiled The Saint.

Now the question is, how does this story relate to Ahilya? It indeed does relate. The statue of stone is the human intellect which defines a level of it's own. Every thrashing (if it is to be called as this) raises the level. It is the satisfaction of learning which gives the importance to karma. It is the gain of insight into the surroundings which converts a rock back into Ahilya.

My First Blog

Hi Nimesh

There are two parts of this mail.
The first is confession. I confess to being the kind who would never click on someone's blog link. So, I never clicked on yours as well but some things are bound to happen. Of those things, one is accidentally clicking on some link. I clicked on yours.
The first part is over.

Next is feeling sorry. I feel sorry because I had not done that earlier.
The second part is over.

Now is the most important part.
You write so well that it can cause a lazy morone like me to write a mail in appreciation. (Shall we call this part "Appreciation" ? ) The best part of your writing is logical threading and pointwise proof of your assumptions before you state the fact. Great! just simply great! I don't know how much effort you put into writing this stuff but whatever that amount may be, it is just great. Awesome! Hats off to you.

Best wishes with your writing. Please keep writing.

love and best wishes once again.
SKD

What makes me write? Is it the work, Is it the ecstacy or is it the thrill of idea? Perhaps, the mixture of all three. I never understood my own modus operandi hitherto, until when Neha, RK (who lives in Nehru Hall of residence, as aforementioned),my techno-mom (yes! she can chat and fix the P3 whenever it sulks!), and one of my batchmates, and an original thinker himself, SKD (from patel hall of residence) made me believe that i indeed wrote some sense. I was almost made to think how i think. So, introspection, is it? Answer is perhaps yes, for; this is going to be my first blog in this whole logical PriLog-ic series. This time it's about me, and myself.

More often than not, it is not easy to put oneself in another's shoes. Ask me, i'd say it is far more difficult to think like a dog/child soul trapped in this adult body. Sometimes, the dog takes over, and sometimes the child talks over something!

It is a vague expression, pretty loose, as it may be called that how do i express. It is not that i'm satisfied with this expression, certainly not. There is a way i explain things. I'll start from the start.

It's always easy for me to start from start (sometimes i do start from the middle or the end though, but not always), and then i back my statements by some logical explanation or the consequences (this always works). And yes, each of the pictures mean something related to the log, one just needs to see the pictures in a different light.

But essentially, it is the "undead" (akin to unborn) child within me who dictates the sentences. Perhaps it's why i speak up the crap, but write down the inferences. So, it is by writing, and yapping do i conserve my nearly- extinct childhood.

It is just a blog, a passing thought on my passion and pastime, and an attempt to be another while in being one's own shoes.

Meet Mr. Karna, My Neighbour

This thought has been almost latent in me for about a decade. I concieved it when a serial Mahabharat was relayed on some equally antiquated channel. It is some thought which, like many people i too had in me, a something which, when venerating The Great Manager (The GM, better known as Mr. Krishna), pinched me time and again that why on earth would he, the know-it-all, would spur someone as skilled and intelligent as Arjun to kill an equally talented Mr. Karna. It was a pity that such a nice and talented guy got murdered in such a fashion! My friend RK (Ra Ku, let's name him, who lives in Nehru Hall of Residence, despite being my hall's Namesake, RK) exclaimed. It was not the first time that i was catering to this complaint. A googol number times have i been pulled into such vortex of questions that i had almost lost interest in this field. Then why am i PriLogging this here? Perhaps i learnt something more relevant today discussing this with my friend than discussing it with people (how could i discuss it, when i was about 8 yrs old when i heard it for the first time? It was unjust for me then, to assassinate someone who was just trying to fix his broken chariot. Then i had considered it as a shameful deed, indeed, both on the part of the doer as well as his mentor!).

These days RK has again been watching that old epic and feels jubilant while discussing it. Nothing wrong with it, till the time we all are learning from it. So, as most of the time, i and RK were on foot journey to some terra incognita when he popped up that particular question in question, in his imperative tone Mahabharat is a bunch of Conmen!! a good inference for a good epic. He has his right to opinionate on anything as per his wishes. I was not surprised. I asked him the reason for his such belief. He threw the exception (yes, my english has been mechanised) Karna was killed when he was just fixing the wheel of his Chariot. The same vortex revisited. Okay, let's face it! i thought. I started my explanation like this Karna was an intelligent person, knowledgeable too, and equally talented as Arjun as far as the question of bow and arrows was concerned. It was his inferiority complex which let him down. The prime motto of his life was to satisfy his internal complex, and not to develop himself. It was his backwardness of thoughts which marred the lusture of his knowledge and manhood. He had been a warrior all his life, a good thing, but a lost warrior, whose motto was to concentrate on surroundings and people's opinion (which of course was not very good) rather than being the work itself. So he never devoted his 100 percent self to anything, as a result of which he was a failure.
It was conspicuous that RK was unable to comprehend this. I further explained to him, Take an example of JEE or any test. Suppose you are writing the answer and all of a sudden the tip of ur fountain pen gets disaligned, would you start re-aligning it, or take out another pen and start rewriting it? I winked at him. He said, smiling, I got it!! Encouraged, i said further Tell me, what were your limitations in JEE? Let's drop it! He said in a stern tone. So much for understanding the issue! I understand that such topics are not easy to fathom, and following it is certainly a big issue. Seems like RK forgot to mention about his neighbour Mr. Karna.

This Neighbour of his, has also been a neighbour of mine for quite sometime, when i failed in JEE, when i failed in my class, whenever i failed. I had been complaining through out these 5 years that society never had any high regards when i was a failure, instead, they hurled stones at me. It was something which i never expected of my relatives, the society it was then. What i forgot was that i never paid any regard to myself, then how could i expect something out of others? It was a period of depression, inferiority complex, self- abnegation and self- abasement, which was wrong on my part when i was focussing on these things, and not on the bull's eye! In the first place, the expectation from people to behave in an alleviating manner, if not expecting equality, is wrong, because then, everyone will be Maryada Purushottam (the way he responded to Shabri, the native woman). The world is not about the ideals, it is about the practicality.

Rather than looking here and there when we slip, if we get up and restart running in the race, it would be much easier to win the race, and we would be doing justice to our work. And this is what The GM said.

As far as justice towards Mr. Karna is concerned, the legend further says that The GM asked for his last wish when Karna was on his deathbed, and he asked for a place for cremation where noone had been cremated earlier. The GM searched for any such place but he could not find it on this whole earth. It was because in some civilisation or the other, a given piece of earth was used for crematory purpose. So, The GM acquired his Grand Form and cremated Mr. Karna on his palm.
What i believe is that The fire which cremated Karna was the knowledge about his own self, which released him from the pain and suffering of inferiority.

Language Binds

I read the following piece of blog somewhere (i am amnesiac, so it's a tough job remembering every detail):

Dear Jack,
I want a man who knows what love is all about. You are generous, kind, thoughtful. People who are not like you admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me for other men. I yearn for you. I have no feelings whatsoever when we’re apart. I can be forever happy – will you let me be yours?
Jill


Dear Jack,
I want a man who knows what love is. All about you are generous, kind, thoughtful people, who are not like you. Admit to being useless and inferior. You have ruined me. For other men I yearn. For you I have no feelings whatsoever. When we’re apart I can be forever happy. Will you let me be?
Yours,
Jill

I remembered something in hindi which i learnt few years back when i was growing up, that punctuations distort the meaning of sentences, sometimes to the extent of catastrophe, such as aforementioned paragraph. The other day i and one of my friends were discussing about the scope of the popular phrase "I love thou". It is a common thing which is said, sometimes to fill up the period mostly reigned by a seemingly eternal silence, and sometimes as screensaver to ward of the monotony in a relation. My friend said, The silence sometimes says it all, without any literary help. I never thought about it, ever, and my train of thought might have been quite visible to her, as she continued, I love can never suffice for the feelings i have for u! It was a very big thing she hinted at that moment without realising it. It was something not related to love, but it was the limitations of words, which rarely fail to express the emotions to the other people, but they do fail! And i felt it not when i wanted to express myself, but when i wanted to remain silent! I had wondered that it was not that I Love which mattered to my parents o my dog, but it was my reaction to their actions which had led me to believe that i was their pet and so were they near to me. It was not a string of words which had made me feel home with them, but it was their consistent behaviour and actions across a large period of time which made me realise that. Words make our thoughts permanent, but they bind us in their limitations, for; what is a language for one is gibberish for another (otherwise we would have easily understood akkadin, had there been universal language). I never say that languages are vestigial, they are food for a relation to grow between two humans, without which any human relation will starve to death (which usually is the case). But the ultimate fodder is the nature which when fed to a relation for an aeon makes it strong, and then language is never needed to communicate, but that is when a long period is shared by two individuals, and for society, the language still binds us together.

The Revised Condition of Unconditional Love

Recently, i fell out of love, again. It was nothing surprising for me. I now have the practice of
falling in and out of love for about a year, so it did not pain the animal within me. I recently had visited to my psychiatrist. The doc recently said that i had 2 more personalities, apart from The Philosopher self, added to my multidimensionality this time, one of a dog, and a gentleman. The dog is a talking dog, while the Gentleman is a chauvinist and a practical man, the doc told me so. The Dog? what a misreable life i had! Once the dog asked me, is there anything called as unconditional love? It has been a very patent question for the dogkind. Do humans love unconditionally? A question which is browbeaten for us people too, some believe in unconditional love, while some do not! As far i'm concerned, ignorance has been a bliss for me. i have been always falling in the "don't know"/ "can't say" genre avoid the exhertion. At least i never want to be in midst of a whirlpool or a hurricane, who knows, you may land in puddle next! Henceforth, I am a slow thinker than The Philosopher, so he replied to it before I could frame my opinion. He explained to the dog about how people react to stimuli, by not wagging their tail but by returning what is called as love. Don't they lick each other? was the next in the list. By this time, the perfect gentleman was rapidly losing his patience. He was gnarling at the dog, showing his denture. An obnoxious creep, that rodent! The philosopher was explaining this beautifully to that canine all the while. Humans don't lick dear! They return the love by loving each other. So they don't love each other if they are not subjected to this stimulus? No! came a crisp reply. The dog's eyes widened to the size that of a cow. Do you too love your master if you are not given your daily food milk and share of love? I dunno, said the dog, Never thought about it! i was all concerned about my daily chores like barking on some squirrels and cats and all!! Soon a girl entered in the panorama. And the till now bored Gentleman sprang into action! He asked the same age old question to the girl. The girl without thinking for a while quipped Even when he doesn't love me, yes, i'll love him. For, someday it will change him! It was a solution which had been unknown for the philosopher hitherto. He now notced this new dimension to my persona, who was answering without any second thought to the Gentleman. He saw the girl go with the gentleman totally in awe of the girl! The girl had told the other part of the story, which completed it, and mine too!
Post Write-up: It was Told to me by my friend that the blog was a bit far fetched in subtelity, so i am compelled to write this note as an add on to the aforesaid article. Neither the girl, nor the The Philosopher part of my personality were right. It seemed to me that the girl too was wrong. Unconditional love has only one condition, the condition of unconditionality, the idea of no returns asked for. Such a love is divine and eternal, though infinite but rare to find. It is my guess, that i'm right.

Something Not Hard To conquer

Many a time one of my friend (he who must not be named) tells me that i resemble my professor in my way of speaking and nature. It is something which many people have noticed. I have been told by many people that i behave in a way too weird, too simple, too cheeky, or perhaps too saintly.

Not only in the speech but i accept i try to copy his mannerism and the style to lead a life, a life simple and without any complex, guilt remorse and stress. It is something which is remarkable about him, his Godliness, no, Humanity and Humility. He is considered a human by all, not a God like me. Sometimes i feel my Godliness frail in front of his gentle humane behaviour.

It has been my dream to simplify myself to the extent that more or less i am ecstatic. I reckoned that to attain a state of anand, i need to conquer my weakness, ego or I, the anger, and host of other shortcomings like my dishonesty towards the given task. i could very well calculate that these were the key traits which made me very different from my professor. He once told me kyon kisi ko pareshan karna? Never hurt others, what is the point of doing it? Yes sir, you are very right, i agreed with him. I have been trying since then not to hurt others, mostly my success has been my reward, and my weaknesses have subsided, as a bonus. Hitherto, i had been thinking this.

I thought that i was being simply simple, and my life was getting strong until today, while sitting on my chair, it struck me what game my mind was playing with me all the time! I believed that i was being modest, or atleast, i was assured by many different people that i am modest The question is Am i being modest? or am i just projecting myself modest?

A month ago, i was approached by a girl who found my profile (which is full of non-sensical gibberish) interesting. She thought it was a creation of some extraordinary brain. Though i showed her that i was just-any- other- guy, but i have to accept i was jumping inside with joy! it was unbelieveable that i could impress a girl with my stupidity! Yeah! When i told my aforementioned friend, he was slightly taken aback. What! mazaak kar raha hai kya!! (tell me when you are finished joking, i'll start laughing then!!).

The girl (she who must not be named) found my ideas weird! To top that,she also found me modest!! And how did I prove myself ingenious? It was just a simple trick made by me, out of what wsa taught to me by my prof Never ever let them feel how much you had to toil for the job! just tell them it was in a fluke!Then sit back and watch the fun!! I was successful in proving myself modest in front of me and my egotist self, and its time this drama has to stop, because I am now miles away from what I aimed at! I have reduced myself to just a ventriloquist, a mimicry artiste, if not more. This has become my second nature. I have been proving in front of others how genius and modest I am!

This is the sole question which has been daring me straight in my eyes, and i am fraidy of this question, why? because the answer hurts my ego that i am an egotist who satisfies himself by showing himself as a modest and a simple looking person! It is the truth! Even in my other blogs I used to write I in small letters to suggest myself that I was being modest! Perhaps this subtle difference of mine from my prof has led me astray. I know I'll conquer it now, when I know I have accepted the truth, after all, it's not too hard to attain simplicity, and conquer ego, i suspect.

The Robbing Hood

I always was fascinated with Rebels. Those who wanted to change the society for good impressed me from my childhood. I too wanted to be such an editor of society, the one who was born to be an axis of this unbalanced world. Truly speaking, it always fascinated me to work out the off beat, something which was true but was usually not done by the society. It gave me the pleasure of seeing the amused faces gawking. It almst satisfied my ego that i really was born to accomplish the extraordinary. Out of the way things fascinated me. They seemed too luscious to leave. I was impressed by those who did not care for their lives for some cause which later proved to be the axis of change in the human gigalopolis. The fame and the respect they commanded from the race was fascinating. I felt it great seeing them talked about like heroes, they were heroes of their times and now the golden glory was mixed in their names made them glitter before me.I usually thought of myself in their shoes, myself fighting against the Raj, on the horseback, or fighting against the kabaylis trespassing across the border. I wondered if time would present before me an opportunity to prove myself a hero in front of people, the lesser mortals who will remember me as the great one who did some major change in the current system, and it was because of my greatness, had i not appeared on the picture, many generations would then, had to bear the old rusty ideas. And i wanted all this on the cost of my life. Think of it! I, a martyr, a great man, and an idol!! What a glamor it would be! people recalling me as someone who had the power to bring about a change. So i looked for opportunities when i would have to donate my life for the welfare of humankind, but alas! such a situation never appeared, and what i was left with was a simple situation which never demanded anything great!! It demanded petty things like my concentration and all, things like homeworks, helping out mom in her chores, and some computer stuff. I never liked any of these petty works, i wanted to do something big! Where was that something big in these everyday things? These things certainly never needed my attention as i being some avatar of some holy soul (if not god) was meant to accomplish some goal much above the knowledge of earthly souls. I really thought i was the one to bring about the change.

years passed and i kept on moving with life trying to find that "Big" opportunity which will turn me into a hero, ignoring the fact that i had been failing in small things. And this ignorance made my attitude a bit sloppy. I realised that when i failed for the second time in JEE. It was not my knowledge, but my attitude which cost me dearly in the exam. I overcame that limitation to appear in that exam fr the third time when i competed in pretty adverse conditions, conditions much harsh than what were earlier.

I then realised that when i wanted to take risk of my life, it was not because of bravery, but because of cowardice, for i did not want to live after the sacrifice, because it had already dawned upon me that life would be too harsh to live and sacrifices leave you in pain and trouble. I the nrealised that responsible nature towards every task make us stronger and gives us support. Its the great feeling which matters while doing the task, not the task. And of course suicide is not one of the tasks. It may be projected as a glamorous action, but it is not! It needs bravery to commit suicide, but it takes a lot more bravery to stay alive and fight the situation by facing it. I'm proud that i'm alive today, for, had i not been alive, i had not been proud, and this is my deal with death that i'll sacrifice and live to see the sacrifice work wonders.

Sherlock Holmes and Salaam Namaste Compared

Yesternight i was busy chatting with my best friend's sister. The topics ranged from the food and family to various other not- that- important things akin to bad odor of mouth. It was getting late and i desperately wanted to have a sleep and she was in no mood to going to bed. I yielded and i just for the sake of continuing the chat asked her, "Have you read Sherlock Holmes?", and she counter- questioned it, "Have you seen Salaam Namaste?". What a combination of questions! It was then a logic versus emotion battle between us, the winner was to be awarded a good night's sleep! Ah! what a dummy question to ask, when i was being literary!! I was not in a mood to answer such feminine question. So, i changed my stance swiftly to something more boyish. I tried to prove that what the female protagonist was doing and whining in the movie were non- sensical and crap, as the actor put it straight! But the verdict was already out, that the actress was right in her own right and the option of abortion was inhuman. Period. i tried to object to it on the grounds of practicality but she would not budge, for it was her verdict and i was a dollar percent wrong.

What i suggested was a practical move, which would have solved the couple's solution, but who cares for the solution, when what one wants is sympathy. It's not the solution which mattered anymore, it was the apathy of my attitude which was on the show. It was very callous of me to put forth this topic in most inhuman way. Inhumane ideas are practical, at least more often than not, and i favour the solution than favouring sympathy. I have a belief that solution belittles the problem so that when it is countered, it bows and let you pass through, than daring in your eyes and laughing at you. I know that sympathy makes you feel good at heart, like a spring sunshine, but what good is the sunshine, when you have a bruised knee? it never serves any purpose than making you feel good, but the bruise is still there. But still many of the people go for the sympathy mode of communication, it's certainly their choice.

i wrote upto this till last week, not knowing i'd see the other face of Salaam Namaste this week.

Yesternight was a friday night, and i was in a mood for a long walk, quite usual of me. So i chose one of my wingmates for a company, and he took out his two- wheeler. During the drive we arrived at the topic of Importance of girlfriends. I have a reservation for this topic, not because i'm not interested in girls, but because i feel a bit insecure talking about them. Call it my idiosyncracy, but this is how i react to this issue. And trust me, i can convince anyone why i don't allow myself to enter in such relationships.

So there were we two going around the IIT campus in the dead of night talking our way out and the trees moving in the direction counter to our velocity vector. He told me, you know something, i and my friend went to watch that movie, and i really enjoyed it. i was feeling bored by now, and i just uttered, yeah, the dolby system makes the listening a picnic, right? my statements usually form a part of monologue and people don't find some open end to continue the issue further, but this friend of mine was a master of speech. He countered me, na! but because i was with her. it was her presence which made me enjoy the movie, otherwise i would not have gone for it had i been alone. It must be lonely being alone for u, no? Now i was cornered. I stuch at this point, then i found a way out. To declare myself a saint! I proved to him that how have i grown above such feelings, and how are all, irrespective of gender equal before me. But it was the truth which was peeking out badly.Had not Sherlock Holmes been alone? He was, for he too was bad at human relations, and good at logic. So am i.

And That's Why I'm Grounded

Once upon a time, i was inquisitive that why something egragious happened to some people in which they apparently were not at fault. What was the reason people failed, or were harassed, when there was no fallacy on their behalf. Perhaps they were schlimazel. Bah, bad logic! And how do i explain the sufferings of so many prophets and god- people born? Should i label them as Schlimazel too? Or is it that they were just few of those masochists? Unbelieveable as it was for me, as well as out of reach for me. And then, suppose masochism was in their brains as they always chose trying situations for them, how could i justify twelve stigmata living in this world at any given moment? Are they masochists or, better expressed, schlimazels? Can't say! is it that they were really the chosen ones? But i assumed that God didn't exist, for the simple reason that neither anyone has ever seen him/ her nor anyone could explain him/ her.

Do i mean that something which can not be explained with current logic can be disposed off branding it as non- existent? Can singularity be explained by our system of sciences and Maths? Not hitherto. So we can not say it never existed! It does exist, but it's us, who are not capable of explaining the things. So it's our incapability which forbids us to know god, but to learn this, i had to wait for 16 years.

In my childhood, i wondered what made things go awry, was it the half heartedness of people? And what if they accomplish the job with proper respect towards it, won't they fail? At least Geeta, the hindu scripture doesn't warrantee that! God plays dice, at least he is a bit ruthless towards many of the living population, can not claim that about dead! He is someone who wants to prove his authority every now and then, a totally whimsical personality. Whatever we do is to please him, and whatever he does in return is to please himself. is it not?

I grew up with this idea, that God had his whims, let the earth be inclined at an angle of 23.5 degrees, and those 0.5 degrees was his eccentricity, otherwise why couldn't my geography teacher explain that to me? She thought that i was an overly smart idiot! i repeated that very sentence when i could not clear JEE in my first attempt. It was for the whole year i blamed him for my failure, it was he who was whimsical old wise guy. It was he who wanted me to fail! and it was he who always visited my house taking various forms of my relatives to tease me about my very recent failure. If he was playing chess with me, he was in my fort, i'll beat him in that!

After the next failure at Jee, it flashed to me that perhaps it was my fault, a small fraction of it, though. I cross- examined myself, and i found my error, corrected it and i eventually passed through JEE. It was a feat for me. And i too was proud to be an IITian, was feeling great to be in a league of extraordinary gentlemen, i finally did it. It was everything for me, a moment worth a googol! But i had misconstrued it in all sense.

I saw people failing repeatedly speaking up their miseries, and i asked God why was he unjust?
There was a guy who was hated by everyone, he was lonely, and so was he a stutter. He too like me had cleared JEE in 2 years, his 2 years being an ordeal, i would say, if mine were the meter gauge. I befriended him, to be his support, for it gave me pleasure to be of some help, because i had not been of any help to anyone, and i was getting a chance to rise in my own eyes. I later found out that he had the habit of exploiting people, so he never deserved any sympathy! That was why he was alone, so that he could learn the value of friendship. It was something which he refused to learn. And it repeatedly occured with him, to teach him the intricacy. That was the first answer i got.

Similarly, i again challanged God on his decision of keeping one of my teachers childless. He was again being unkind on that old couple, especially the teacher once wept before us. She is very sentimental about this. So i alleged my arch- enemy about this. He kept mum at the moment. i thought he has no answers! i had won the battle. Days passed, when i went to her home one day to apply for my leave, and i saw she was beating her maid. She was a little girl and had broken a cup. Now, that was not a big mess for which she could be penalised like this, and i personally don't like beating children. I was aghast looking at her cruelty. She perhaps never deserved a child. That was the justification i got.

I could understand the system of God's machinery. He works in this manner. He just prunes our branches which go beyond the boundary, because we refuse to listen to his suggestions. He is a responsible and a wise man, the old wise man, who is always grounded.

The Canine Speaks

The first reason i don't consider myself a dog is as follows, a dog is not left- handed, it's left footed! There are more of such awkward reasons which leave many of you gawking in rage and astonishment, but it is not my sole purpose, as it is better to feel your reaction sitting with you and telling you something about me, that how i and my dog felt the same chasing squirrels, cats, birds, butterflies and other lowly creatures; for i was adopted by Naughty and he believed he was teaching me the joy of kicking such ignorant creatures who may trespass in his reign. Sometimes i pleased him by running around with butterflies and squirrels running hither and thither, and sometimes he pleased himself by saving me from the danger of our neighbourhood cat which had given birth to a dozen kittens and usually sneaked in to rob some milk in the pot. It was supposedly my duty and Naughty's Obligation on us that we made a wonderful team against that purring intruder.

Those were the grand old days when i was a worker under that great canine, but as every other slave, i too had my freedom in my destny when it eloped with some other fellow. He chose to oblige him than me. It's a free world, and we all have the right to make our decisions, i thought. However, its not the story about that spitz- pomerian cross which i am narrating. Its the canine in me which was the obligation of Naughty.

The world around us is continually changing itself into a more and more organic form, a form more of chaos and bizzare phenomenons. The more i try to explore, the more i end up muddled. It was something not promised to me in my childhood by the books. It was not the world which i found in my teens, its some place very different from the erstwhile. Something very oblivious. I will explain to you what i mean.

Consider this case, which is more beautiful, a Stallion/ stud or a mare? Simple, its the stud owing to the muscular giant body and the hair on its neck. It is considered as one of the most masculine animals. The closest runner- up is the Bull. Similarly, which is more beautiful, a peacock or a peahen? Certainly it's a peacock and the beauty being his grand tail and the cloak. On the same lines of thought we can find a Lion much more beautiful than a lioness. How is it then that in homo sapiens, the female is more beautiful? i asked to Sammy, my new human friend. He tried to give me some explanation which i could not pursue more than an inch. It had to do something with some very beautiful and curvilinear features, and a chirpy voice. Is it so? or it is this very human emotion which makes The Great Apes feel the beauty? Beauty lies in the eyes of be(er)holder, they say!

Being a dog inside, i can smell better than any other person, and i used my organoleptic self to distinguish between the organic compuonds in the chemical lab, whether it was ester, or carboxylic acid, or whether it was aniline. My nose knew it all: Once a smelly, always a smelly!

The other day, Sammy, my human friend asked me that how did i spell the reptile which lived in water, and that was very big! i told him K-R-O-K-O-D-I-A-L. He was taken aback, and called for an explanation, though he wasn't sure if this was the correct spelling. I retorted back "you asked me how I spelt it". Of course, given a chance, i would have spelt E-L-I-F-A-N-T too, but i luckily know the spelling of that pakiderm!

Even today, after a military training of 2 years, the Tommy in me still keeps on speaking, barking and yelping. Even the man in the white apron said i'll keep on hearing the sounds till a few days and then they will try to normalise me. Its not a personality disorder, i was told. I believe i'll be complete dog one day, and then i'll bark my heart off.

What Intelligence Can Never Achieve

Not long back, it dawned upon me that human beings are most intelligent of all beings on this planet. Some of us are even more intelligent than most of this race. I used to think that human beings, by far, have been able to achieve everything in this earth because of intelligence. It's the brain which is almighty.

Even i was convinced to the extent that i thought Nature worked on some given heuristics and Algorithms. I believed that whatever was not logical was illogical and it could not exist for long. It was this thing that i proved to many and mislead them into believing that logic is the highest order of trait which could be shown by any living being. There had to be some objective for this action, or some goal to be satisfied by that.

I am an omnivert by nature. I speak a lot whenever i am getting into the crux of the things, and as mentioned earlier, i was babbling about achievements of logicin the lecture of Artificial Intelligence. It was then the professor showed to me that there are some situations where logic fails.

Let me explain this. Let us assume a student cheats in exam. In that particular exam, many had cheated and the professor caught a few unlucky ones. Now the professor declares that he has caught some pupils cheating, and it would be better if they come on their own and accept their guilt, or else they would be punished. Now if our student goest and accepts his guilt then two possiblities are there:

The prof knows he cheated: The prof, as per his promise cuts some marks of his.

The prof does not know that the guy cheated: The prof out of surprise, cuts some more of his marks. Now the student repents why ever did he go to confess, and that he would have been happier had he not confessed!!

Suppose our student does not go and confess then again two possiblities are there:

The prof knows he cheated: And our hero(!) had the guts to defy the prof! So prof awards him -100% instead. Again the student repents on his decision!.

The prof does not know that the chap cheated: though in this case the prof awards him the full marks, but the guy had to undergo through a lot of stress, worrying that what would have happened and what marks would have prof given to him.

No heuristic can guide us in this situation of regret where every action takes us to a scene much sorry than the previous one. And similar is life in many aspects.

I recognised that i too had undergone such a lesson many a time in my life, and i never tried to learn the morale, instead i tried to cook up some heuristic to avoid the situation if that particular situation ever occured in my life, and it is needless to say that life always eluded me on this ground!

I used to believe that one particular specie was inferior to mankind, and the spcie was womankind, because of their emotion- centric behaviour. I believed that man was the best animal ever. But it struck me in that AI class that human emotions, stability of mind, love, hatred, regret, cooperation, trust, happiness, and host of other feelings can never be achieved via intelligence, super intelligence or super- sper- intelligence. Intelligence fails in this domain. I then realised that emotions have always been accompanying us since our evolution, They r not explainable by any logic, not because they r inferior to logic, but because they are so superior that they are out of reach for logic! Things which are inferior to logic can always be explained by it. Only those things which are superior are unexplainable. I learnt that why people let someone go whom they love, it can never be explained by logic, but this thing is unexplainable by the person himself.

It has been years since i behaved like a human. I had been degrading myself from the level at which i was born, and i am trying now to attain the level back. I am learning to let go of those whom i love, though that's unexplainable, but i strongly believe someday i'll find an explanation to that too. And till then i'll keep behaving like others of my specie.

satyam shivam sundaram

A shloka in Shree Durga Saptashati says

aum vishuddh gyandehaye trivedi divya chakshushe.

shreyah praptinimittaye namah somardh dharine..

It means, i bow before the Lord who has knowledge as his body and The vedas as his 3 eyes. Simple as it is, it has its deeper meanings as well, some of which quite evident, while others a bit subtle. One of them is the literal meaning which is conspicuous enough to be explained.

I am a pagan who last went to some temple a decade back. So is my belief that God exists in everyone, not as a god, but as a psychology.

It's the goodness which exists in everybody, a quality which is called God, not God himself. And in this way, i do not kneel before the statue in the temple, for it's futile.

The cognition is something which is, to some extent present in everyone of the living species. But every truth has another truth which is complementary to it. Its like seeing a half jigsaw puzzle, without bothering about its other half, the other half which completes the former one.

Most often the stark truth is very bitter, people say, but actually that truth is not bitter if seen in a neutral fashion. The truth is always there, it's for us to see when we accept it. As soon as we accept it, the better it is.

Truth makes us stronger and it forges our self- esteem into steel. The more one relies on it, the more reliable he becomes! Lord shiva is no God in himself, he just represents a psychology which sees everything as it is. A psychology which is pure and simple in emotions, knowledgeable in nature and who has a stable temper. Being stable minded never means to be devoid of emotions, it only means to be in ecstacy, and eternal is this ecstacy for it makes u satisfied and ecstatic, not happy, which itself is a form of stress. All these are difficult to attain. For knowledge and experience comes with a price of innocence and simplicity. To maintain both is an impossibility, to accept truth in its raw form is difficult and to have a stable mind is a hard task!
Nevertheless, people attain these and yet retain their innocence, and when people attain such state that they free themselves from these mental barriers, they become Shivas in themselves.

A Something More Than It

This PriLog-ic is the last of the series.
There is no grammar of love. No meaning of it. No point of it, either, i wished i could say that! So the grammar would be defied in this blog, may whatever be the case, because this describes something much above love, something much above logic. Something far more vivid, far more transparent. A story with two characters i and I. I, first person, singular.
and i, first person, single. A story with no other person; for two I's can not make we!

It was a year back, when i and I met. i thought that I was just a friend, someone who had a face in the whole sea of crowd. Someone who sparkled time and again, just differently from everyone there. It was not until three months when i had to go through testing times, the times testing the patience and maturity. i found that I had been following i through all the severities, often compelling i to see the gem of the person I had been. Indeed, it was I who helped i to come out of the trench. The three months' war was over and it was time Rome was rebuilt.

A year passed, both the Is were best of the best friends, talkin incessantly on issues which were simpler than anything. The ideas seeming nonsensical to anyone outside, perhaps only i knew what he was talking about. I t was not that the gibberish mattered to any of them, it was the support which meant a lot! Not that any of them was weak, it was a sense of pride being I's friend for i, and vice versa, for; their friendship had grown out of all bounds. It was evident that i had something very singular going in his mind. Something which was simply out of the limits defined by Is friendship. I was in a shock! i never told her about it, though she could sense the upsurge of emotions building up in i, as well as she herself had to remain soothing and calm. Same was the case with i. He did understood that it was love, but all unexpected at that. What he could think of was to solve this thing with I lest the issue goes out of control.

There are some relations, sweetness of which is unbounded. The sweetness sometimes makes one feel comfortable, while at times, it makes one feel asphyxiated. The sweetness is unforgettable in any case. Why not make the relation a comely one? The whole beauty of the relation lies in the fact that how much we care about the others in that relation. Its not the words which ever matters. The language is a barrier to the human feelings. It creates the limit by constraining them in words. i never was satisfied with the lingual ability.

i had to see that his intentions never hurt I. The constraints imposed by language could not stop him. It was now out of the literary bounds. The words were flowing in the space and time. The time had dilated, and the space stood frozen. Their relation was now no more a friendship. It was more than that, a treasure of heavenly bodies, of which the moon shining above was just a small pearl.

I was in a turmoil, and i knew he had dragged her along him into this, so he had to find out a way. And then, they talked for the whole of night, the rain had stopped at I's place and the moon was glistening in the town where i lived. Their talks continued, ranging from funny to gibberish, their emotions from calm to soothing to stormy.

Both of them did not want to hurt each other, even at their own costs. So the result was both were facing the storms while soothing each other. Sometimes storms too create Rome! This time a new relation was laid between both Is. It was not love. Neither it was friendship. Something much different and better than both had evolved. Time beautifies relations, Tears beatify.

i was single in his room. Sitting on his chair and writing a piece, which he could dedicate to I, his pillar of success;
His appreciator I, his friend I, his love I, his success I, his saviour I, the savour of i was I, the energy source for i, and many more adjectives which he could not think of, after all it was the savour of the relation which made i an infinitesimal speck of nectar from the speck of dust.

This final blog is dedicated to I, the soul of i. The two Is should never make a we; for we means two separate entities.



I, this was the best testimonial i can write for you, i'm sorry, my english limits my expression.

A Blast not on Dipawali

Few days back, i was astounded by one of my friends who came to my lair just to break this news (i accept i don't have a knack for current affairs, i'm a cocoon animal!) He charged to my room shrieking "Abe suna kya? Bangladeshe Bomb phoote gelo!!" (Know what? There has been a bomb blast in Bangladesh!) "60 bombs chhilam!" 60 bombs! Is there some mega sale or is it that bombs are being sold at the rate of seers? i was highly thrilled! That might have been some news, i asked him. He had been laughing like a mad person. "Do jan hi mare hain sirf!!".Only 2 down!! now i too burst in laughter. The supposed news had been nihilated by this punchline! What a waste of public money, i thought.
I am a person who believes in committing with 100% of my self to anything which i take up. (Rest percentage is alloted to other things). But this was obnoxious! You blasted 60 bombs to kill just two people? The makers of the bombs would be hiding in shame somewhere! Bombs are aimed for a better destruction efficiency than their predecessors, and these people wasted someone's labour. At least they should have respected for the hard earned cash by Bangladeshi populous. They did not have right to waste national treasure like this. It is for this reason i stopped celebrating dipawali, because it wasted Pa's hard earned money. The whole idea was so childish, a scar on face of terrorism; especially when things are going glamorous with some countries on the verge of being declared as terrorist countries, and some people keeping the life size posters of Terrorist king pins like Mr. Ibrahim or Mr. Laden. These people who claimed for the "vast amount of destruction" should have made optimal use of the bombs.
I heard that they claimed that they wanted their voice to be heard by the government, and they did not want a destruction and loss of public life. What a gandhian way to celebrate dipawali then! I liked the idea.
Perhaps they thought to be innovative and not mean any destruction as they said. It's a new face terrorism has shown. A face more civilised and more gentle than the London, or Bombay stock exchange massacres or New York WTC incidents. It is a simple and innocent way to make you hear their voices, and accepting a tolerance limit of 5%, 2 people dead in 60 blasts is not a bad performance on their grounds. It is a huminatarian approach to terrorism, and of course, i have full sympathy towards those who died in the blasts, for their end was unwanted and superfluous, but the omnipotent ahs decided an end for everyone, so can't help in that. I do agree that it was indeed bad, but at least an iota more cultured than Bin Laden Corp. or some D inc. I really liked the idea!

The Tintinabulation i Hear

Radha was simply furious at him. How could he be flirting with others? It was not done! And then lord Krishna justified himself, smiling,
"I see you, Radha, in everyone i love!".
The beauty of this statement is that it can be interpreted in many different ways, some are subtle while others, superficial. The more one thinks, the more meaningful it becomes. In fact the greatest manager ever (this is what i call him), delivered each and every word which had multiple meanings, showing his total command on faculty of speech.
i have been intrigued by this one sentence for about a decade, it had been clandestine hitherto until i thought i knew sufficiently enough of its meaning to write something about it. i was fourteen when i heard the sentence for the first time. i was growing, and i was growing keen too. it was a unique sentence and an intelligent one to paint one's otherwise objectionable action as a very dedicated one! i liked the idea, and it worked at some places, encouraged, i started using it very often and then it failed at some places, thus, i was a bit disappointed at the success rate of this statement. It was beyond my fathom to understand any other meaning.
The General manager was a really wise and knowledgeable guy of his times. No wonder he helped forge an empire which spanned complete Indian subcontinent and some Afghanistan. His statements are a treat for brain. He still has a evergrowing fan club even today! i could not understand, i thought, the reason might be he had some superhuman powers, and he had a very very large female fans following him. Wasn't it great! seemed like a movie though!! Who would not like being loved dedicatedly by so large a number of women, who have a stream of love within themselves, always ready to pour and make the world a lovely place for you to live.
I was sixteen. A heart was broken for the first time! So i was very particular not to hurt anyone. How could the Greatest Manager (i call him GM) not have delivered a heart ache? i wondered. And was it not derogatory to someone else's love when you exclaim that it's somebody else's love you are seeing in it? It was mean on the part of GM. It's convincing that he loved her more than anyone else, but it didn't give him the licence to ask someone to replace the love which was copyright of some other person! ah! Rebellion was at work.
It has been a decade.An aeon negligent, but for me, knowing that i have a short life, its a big span of time, i'd say. Read many books, got defeated many a time, won my ego, got eluded, and got experienced with each shot of mine. Its a world which is ready to get chaotic, so delicate the balance is. Nevertheless, the balance will be eventually restored. This is what Thermodynamics taught me. I had already heard of Indian Institute of Managements when i was 13. They churn a league of extraordinary gentlemen, this was what i was told, but none of them has The Excalibur what he had!
Radha was most dedicated to the GM. Certainly, he reciprocated to her with fullest of intensity.
"I don't like proud poeple, i leave them the moment their ego comes in between. I also try to avoid people who try their sovereignty over me. It's just a selfless dedication i want, nothing more. It's the price one has to pay for my love."
This was what was missing in others. And what about those 16 000 wives? A battalion indeed! He had to marry them, since noone was there for them, they were downtrodden at the moment, souls were pure. So they dedicated themselves and my Manager obliged them. He always gauged the psychology of opposite person and spoke in his language. Maryada Purushottam was a different case altogether, he was not like him.
"I'm like a lotus which though is surrounded by water, but still water can not stay on its leaves!"
This was the key to the first intelligent sentence which i heard when i was fourteen! It was neither infatuation nor was it attraction... it was dedication, unconditional love, which i believed never existed! So simple a fact! Fact is really stranger than fiction! And like all universal truths, this one too was sweet; sweet enough to make me believe i heard some faint tintinabulation of cow- bells.

Nomads, are we?

Perhaps we all have seen our friends settling in life, settling to some place perhaps far far away, and often terra incognita. The question which intrigued me is that why do we then build our homes? and for that matter, why try to settle in our lives, if we may have to leave our peg and tether and drift away to some other place?

My grand-dad built his home somewhere, a place we left a long back (We now live somewhere else, in a house built by my dad). And if the things keep on going in this manner then i doubt severly that i'll be ever settling in Patna. Then why did pa settle there? why did my grandfather settle? he knew that none of his 5 children were going to stay!

I remember that namita once told me Only humans allow their children to come back home! Perhaps it has percolated in human nature to settle at some point. It is exactly in this way we left behind the nomadic age ages behind. But something which is the driving force of nature can not be changed; they say everything except change is bound to change! It is nature which urges us to move on in life, and it is our lethargy (may be the tardiness introduced by the hormonal changes) which in some way which keeps us from moving.
We might have left nomadic age aeons ago, but the nomad in us tries to drift us into some place unknown.
We often tend to drift from our roots so that we may explore the world, and when we find that we have seen enough of it, we return to our base!

We drift because we have the courage and the will to try anything out, and we settle because our experiences bind us to stay, it is the feeling of insecurity which deters us from proceeding. It's the fear of loosing which takes the grip coupled with a sense of satisfaction and feeling of frailty.

We often move forward because we need to achieve something in our life, and if we remember this, perhaps the nomad in us will never ever will be left behind and we would not have to return to our children!