Ambivalence

You meet people of all sorts throughout your life. Some of these people that you come across touch you in some or the other way and the others just form a part of your subconscious memory. This statement reminds me of the thought that formed the introduction of Albom’s book, “The Five People You Meet in Heaven”. But I did not want to write about the people I would want to meet in heaven. The reason that I commenced putting down this thought is that I just wanted to write, for no reason whatsoever, and the only thing that seemed most intriguing at this moment was the thought of people.

People have the ability to make you feel a lot of emotions. People make you feel loved, people make you sad, people make you jealous, people make you competitive, people make you lascivious, people make you happy but I think it is only nature that can give you peace. I could be wrong about this for the simple reason that I am still to find the one person in my life that can bring in certainty in my ambiguous universe. Probably that is how it feels to be in love-peaceful. Then just to take that thought forward I believe that the ultimate peace potion would be the concoction of nature and love with a dash of happy memories.

Away from all these thoughts on peace and love (I must add that after the brief rendezvous with hippiedom in Goa, my thoughts are constantly revolving around “peace and love”) there are the people who are disturbed and restless. These people that I am talking about are the people that you meet in your everyday life. The people include: the sweating people fighting for space in the local trains of Mumbai, the people who pick up a fight with the BEST conductor for a change of four rupees, the harrowed looking rickshaw driver who takes you from your home to the station, the scared cab driver from Jaunpur, UP who ferries you from CST to Cuffe Parade, the waiter at the café who is cursing you behind your back because you did not leave him a good tip, the woman sitting next to you in the office cubicle who has to not only keep up with the deadlines from work but also do all the home chores or else receive flak from her in-laws, the cops who try their best to manage the traffic at all the major junctions in the city along with curbing the crime rate but also provide for their family from the humble monthly wages that they receive, the person sitting next to you at the airport and ferociously typing something on his laptop and at the same time balancing the phone and the cheese sandwich, the politician, from whichever party, who is trying to put himself on a pedestal just before the elections and at the same time will stoop really low to even instigating the killing of innocent people, the killed person’s family for whom their only source of hope and dreams is vanished, the daily wage workers who are employed by the BMC to repair the roads and the sewers, toil in the sun all day to get run over by some rich person’s BMW in the night, the rich people manipulating the lives of themselves and the ones around them………………………………………………………………..

The dotted line is for the other billion categories of people who have not been mentioned here. The thought that I want to highlight here is that there are people who are running towards their goals (read: more money, fame power) but do not realize that all this is not going to be a part of their “last breath flashes”. I may sound very ascetic now, but these are my thoughts and I cannot possibly ignore them. Do these people who manage to achieve everything in their lives, happy? Are they peaceful?

From the kind of the people that have been mentioned above, I believe that not a single of them seemed at peace or happy. Probably the magical peace potion is the answer to all their worries.

I would like to conclude this thought process on the note of my ambition of “Peace and Love”. If by some stroke of luck and focus, I am able to set up an NGO of my own which will be called Peace and Love, I promise that the NGO will work towards providing “the potion” to all the people. The world all over needs love and love would come from peace or vice versa….there are minds like me out there thinking the same thought but are not oriented together currently….once that happens…action on those….Inshallah dreams will come true….paradise everywhere…blooming hearts….Amen to that!

PS: If all that was said does happen, what next after Utopia? What will keep us going?

Something to Satisfy My Conscience...

On 16th October 2008, at Jogeshwari railway station I come across a 10-11 year old boy who is also a 'idli-chutney' vendor. What caught my attention towards him was his sobbing.
Me: "kya hua...kyon ro raha hai....?"
Kid: "Muncipalty ne fine maara (sobs)....seth bahut maarega abhi ( more sobs)...."
Me: " arre...tu kyon tension leta hai...seth ko bol na ki aisa aisa hua..."
Kid: ......( no answer anly more tears)....
Me ( who was now almost ready to pay him the money): " fine kitna tha....?"
Kid ( staring straight into my eyes): "...seth maarega... (loud sobbing)...."
Me ( half hearted talk now as my train was almost on the platform): " life mein itna tension mat le...kuch nahi hoga ..."

After saying this I put an arm over his shoulder, a light squeeze and then run off to catch my train.

Did I do the right thing? Should I have coaxed him more to tell me how much the fine was, so i could have paid that off? Were my words empty? Did he understand what I was trying to tell him? If I would have paid the money, then would he have turned into a confident individual in the future ( this is a vague thought)? Did I pursue him enough?

I could not give answers to any of these questions.

The following mail was written to Children Walking Tall, a Goa based NGO who serve the needs of the street children. While writing this the thought of the "Kid" was playing in my mind.

Dear People from Children Walking Tall/ The Mango House,

I regularly read the newsletters that I receive from you. The work that is done by the members of Children Walking Tall for the kids is really overwhelming and praise worthy. As my thoughts move in the direction of appreciating the efforts that go in taking care of The Mango House, also at the same time I feel envious of the fact that I cannot be a part of the activities that are working for the benefit of The Mango House.

I know that I can remotely be part of the entire scene by probably donating a certain amount of money towards the organization; but it is reasons known to me that I am not comfortable with that kind of contribution. I want to be an active volunteer for your organization, come down there at Mapusa and interact with the kids there but it is the social rat race in Mumbai that is shackling me from acting on my thoughts.

You must be thinking that as to why this person, who is not doing much or not even planning to do much in the near future, writing to us about his thoughts. I am writing this because by doing this activity I want to a part of The Mango House albeit a very passive one, but none the less a part of the spirit of Children Walking Tall.

It is a promise I've made to my conscience that someday I will actively volunteer for Children Walking Tall to help spread a smile on the faces of the children. But till that time Children Walking Tall/The Mango House will always be in my thoughts and my prayers.

I apologize to you if in some way by writing down my thoughts to you I have come across as a "selfish" individual and thus agonized you.

Keep up with the selfless work that is done by you..... not only does it help the children be happy but it also puts a smile on my face....

Peace and love,
Ronak

P.S: Believe me I am not selfish nor a person who talks big and does nothing!

My Simple Wish....

There is something that each one of us running after in our lives. Wishes, dreams ambitions whatever you may want to term it as, they all somehow imply the same thing. Usually these are in a very prospective time frame. These are things that you want to happen in future. When circumstances start to slip out of your control or to just put it simply when circumstances get desperate you want the things to happen instantly, no matter what be the consequences. Last evening I was desperate. I did not want a billion dollars. I did not want a good life. I did not want world peace. I did not want to be “free”. I did not want emancipation of troubled souls in the world. I did not want to escape to my happy place. All I wanted last evening was some warmth. I wanted the warmth of a hug.

A hug wouldn’t have given me the answers to my troubles, but would have given me the courage to face them. The warmth that a hug would have given me would have helped to wipe out the cold grief that had enveloped my heart. Probably grief is a harsh word, but then depression becomes too generic for the usage here. The reason for the sorrow is unknown. Loneliness, too many thoughts on life or just the news; it could have been anything.

Now suddenly my thoughts have hit a road block and I am unable to put down anything. I never got that hug last evening. A wish is just lost somewhere in the ether now, probably just like many others. Where do these wishes go? Is there some sadist who enjoys collecting these and preventing them to complete their course? I wish I knew the answer to that one……

Written Thinking....

Sufi music and a cup of masala chai can really uplift my mood which was dampened by the throbbing pain and the bitter after taste of the medicines. Add to this a regular flow of breeze which can completely transfer me to my world of poetry and creativity; although the poetry seems lost when I try to put it down in words. I am eagerly waiting for the day when I will be able to find the flow of words needed for my poem to find its course to paper.

Creativity, here for me, is defined by my ability to think as I believe that my creativity lies not in writing but thinking. People and places that I like are brought closer to me by thinking. Thinking helps me to get the suppressed feelings out in the open and writing them down only is the mode by which I create memories about the same. Thinking gives me the freedom to build bizarre characters that are otherwise mundane in this mortal reality. I will attribute this sudden splurge of creativity to the doctor’s advice of “complete bed rest” as the 76 hours of sleeping has rested my working mind and the creative mind has woken up. To keep me company through these somniferous hours was Mitch Albom and his The Five People You Meet in Heaven. A different vision of Heaven is put forth in this book. To summarize, heaven is the place where you start making sense of your life on earth and that is the only way to find peace. Heaven is different for each individual but still all our lives are intersected by one way or other. A very intriguing thought that will keep me busy for days to come.

The creativity pangs gave rise to my dream of writing a book. I do have a story in my mind. The story seems incomplete and cannot be completely visualized. The story is currently been seen as the pre-release rushes of a movie, seeing which you do get a general over view but have no clue about the characters or the flow of the theme. It has become important for me to give this story a serious thought flow and sculpt it with words before it becomes just another passing thought or worse-a regret.

Went to House of charity…saw that it was being brought down by an developer…have never before stood up to anything so take this up as the challenge that destiny has written for me…to see to it that all the children get a place they can always call their home…search for them......some are in mental institutions…some have gone back to their unhappy lives….the nuns from Italy are nowhere to be found…loved these children and gave them a whole lot of their lives so much sacrifice….where would they be….getting all the children back to safety…union with the nuns…a place to stay forever without any bothers???? Nothing could be better that Peace and Love in Goa…… and that is what the book will be called Peace and Love……

Experience and a lot of information with some serious dedication and patience can help this story see the light of the day as a book.

A paragliding instructor…..in some beautiful mountains somewhere in North India…a girl who encounters a serious accident during the lessons…love strikes…hospitalization…a week…pouring of hearts…innocent….honest….girl dies….melancholy prevails….

This is another story that I happened to visualize in one of my restless sleeps in the recent weeks. Have no clue about how, what or why but felt like making a memory of it before it fades off.

“You meet a person after a long time. You have always claimed to have known the person really well. You have always liked the person a lot before. But in this meeting you feel that there are in so many ways that you have not got a chance to know the person. The beauty of the person still needs to be explored. You start getting attracted to the person. The mysterious side of the person is suddenly kept before you. The eyes tell you a lot but at the same time do not want to reveal a single word. A different kind of bond seems to arise. Makes you crazy…makes you confused….but makes you happy. Will this happiness last only till the time the mystery is unsolved…answers to this are a different story altogether….lets see what the future holds…”

Enough said for today. I think it is time for me to get back to get some quiet time with Miles Davis. Eyes will be shut. Mind will be working. Heart will be beating. Prayers will be said. Thoughts will be pouring and Jazz will be heard….nice times are here….. :)

My Thoughts Find the Words...Finally...

It was a promise I had made that the next time I write something I am supposed to continue with my “theories”, but the last six months have been so eventful that the theories have just vanished in one of the by lanes of my brain.

From probably the only spine chilling winter that I have experienced in Mumbai to one of the most grueling summers to the fresh spells of monsoons, it seems that the seasons have just flown by in the past half an year. Before I begin my rendezvous with writing again I thank the nature’s showers for rekindling this spark of creativity within me. So here goes my story about the past six months.

As I told earlier a lot has happened over the past months, right from starting off with a new career to running around naked on a secluded beach. Life has completed changed, both from the outside as well as inside.

Starting with the external changes, the biggest change that I would like to acknowledge and feel great about is my weight loss. A couple of battles have been won for this but the war still awaits me. The next thing that I would like to highlight would be the corporate world that I was engulfed in, for the time that went by. I would like to keep this on my outside and not let it mingle with my inside for the simple reason that it is too pretentious to let it get imbibed in me.

There are two things which have given the maximum momentum to the changes, that I perceive have taken place in and around me. They are GOA and PEOPLE. The topic of people has always given me a lot to contemplate on. The people now I am mentioning range from selfish (corporate world spoils everyone) to the free spirits (hippies in Goa and obviously Sar and me…) to the angels that I came across at the House of Charity
(Renu {Someday you will find a way out of your boredom}, Ajay, Jaya, Charles, Moses, Pravin {tell me your thoughts...I too want to laugh with you}, Lazarus, Rajesh {thank you for all the hugs}, Sister Dorothy, Sister Paula, Sister Anna Maria)…thank you all for sharing your world with me…thank you Aniket for introducing all these wonderful people to me… :) :)

Have heard it a zillion times about how addictive the thought of Goa is, but now that I am experiencing it myself, I am lost for words to express the feeling about Goa. The days spent in Goa (specifically Arambhol) were like a dream. A happy dream. A dream that you want to see every single night or even every day perhaps.

It was only this time that Goa showed me its seductive persona which has bowled over all the free spirits from all over the world. The attractive Goa is not only about the secluded beaches or the wildness in the air or the rave parties or smoking hash but also about the people and the culture they breed. It is all about peace and love (Read: hippiedom) that keeps pulling you back. I’ll put down a certain random things that will remain etched in my mind for a long time to come:

• The drive from Arambhol to Palolem
• Hill Top rave party
• Vita, Mr. Kinski, Phil and the quest for hash
• The smell of cashew Feni
• Smoking of charas (and the talks that followed…:) script writing seems so easy)
• Skinny dipping (Agonda and obviously the midnight dip at Arambhol)
• The banyan, the Baba
• Fucking hell (Sorry Madame it was not intentional…peace and love to you)
• Dogs can be rude too…:)
• Banana milk shake...the best hang over antidote…proved once again
• Kunal (even this guy was just like us…free) and the tattoo
• The 1230-0100 a.m…. walk on Arambhol……a dream I long to see again….. :)
• The lazy hours spent doing nothing in the Arambhol lake
• Vodka Melon and the round of hash that followed with the motley -est people…
• ‘Sulphur’ bath (multani mitti)
• A pair of ‘haawt’ topless lesbians (at least one of them was…:) ) in a lip lock
• The smell of the lady (marijuana mixed with some fantastic perfume) , riding a bike, in the middle of the night….
• Peace and love…( A new dream that needs to be put in concrete, literally, someday….)
• Most importantly that this Goa escapade wouldn’t have been the same if it was not for Sar….thanks dude… :)

It seems so strange that everything else that happened in the past months is so insignificant when compared to the experience of Goa. Let me correct myself, not an experience of Goa but the experience of finding the free spirit in myself.

I would just like to sign off on a very high note…a note of optimism….a note of dreams…a note of magic…a note of happy weather…a note of adventure…a note of longing….a note of imagination…a note of freedom…a note of peace…a note of love…:) :) :) :) :)

Theories- The First Part

There have been some contemplative fireworks in my mind for the past couple of weeks and I would like to acknowledge caffeine and Saurabh for their contributions. Accordingly I have come with a few theories (not calling them hypotheses since I have already proved them in front of a fictional scientific committee) which I would like to put them on paper before I forget what were they all about.

1) Peter Pan can have sex too!!

* Before I start with this theory, this is to inform that the name of this theory does not have anything to do with proving Peter Pan’s sexual abilities*

Imagination should run wild and completely liberated; else it shouldn’t be called imagination. So what are imagination, Peter Pan and sex doing in the same neighborhood (thoughts)? Nothing much; it was just that they were all there and it’s only now that they have come face to face with one another.

The theory kicks off from the very same foundation stone called “calling”. I may not be the “one” who has found his true “calling” or might have never responded to it. I would like to coin a term for this condition- ‘Professional Dyslexia’. Here enters imagination as it helps me to tackle various career options and the one that suits me is lifestyle tourism. A fantastic way to live as it involves travel, meeting people and imbibing their culture and the best part of it is not worrying about being the lead of the rat race. Anyway am currently not writing about my “calling”. This imaginary job would have the same effect of happiness on me as, say, colors would have on an eight year old. Thus comes in to picture Peter Pan. Whenever I am on my “job” I am being a child who does not have to worry about the adult world. I would never want to grow up. If Peter Pan can be happy in Neverland by not growing up so can I. The drastic difference here would be that I do not reside in Neverland, so even against my wishes I have to face the real world.

The later half of the theory wants to over rule the age old notion of sex not being innocent. When I say ‘innocent sex’ it simply means that sex is as pleasurable and as innocent as eating ice-cream. If man is not in the innocent category, then I am quite sure that most of us would agree that dolphins (they enjoy sex, just like us) look innocent enough or for that matter even dogs. To summarize this thought I would just say that sex need not be associated with children; but the way a toddler gains pleasure from say observing a passing butterfly the same can be obtained from sex (very relative, here). So it’s not necessary to be a celibate if you would want to remain a child for the rest of your life.

I do not see the world in the same way as somebody else does; I do not want to run the rat race and win a trophy; I want to believe that I will never grow up and yet be happy; I also do not want to lose out on the basic pleasures (sex) that adulthood has to offer—here I would like to clarify that it is not my fault that puberty hit me and came along the hormones that cannot be suppressed; I want to be free to do whatever my hear t says even if it means lifestyle tourism and writing related travelogues; I want to be Peter Pan who can also have sex!!

Childhood- An Emotional Turmoil?

I read this in a book called The Kite Runner: “There are lots of children in Afghanistan, but there is no childhood.” The author of the book is a man named Khaled Housseini, who is an Afghan who has taken political asylum in USA and is residing there for the past 25 years. He is not alone. There are many like him, who, at that time of political upheaval in the late 70’s, could afford to travel across continents to the new world. The rest who could not, were left behind. First they cursed the invading Russians and then the Taliban. The Taliban were first welcomed and thanked since they were thought to be saviors. It was only a matter of time before the innocent folk realized that the Taliban were not the face of Allah but the rebirth of the Satan himself.

Everyone today knows about the barbaric ways of the Taliban. Everyone condemns their ways and everyone prays for the emancipation of the Afghans. But what you feel for the tortured is different from what it feels to be tortured. And if you happen to be a child in this macabre heaven, the wounds do not have the power to heal. Innocence has a way of inflicting guilt upon itself. In a beautiful and serene place like Afghanistan, you imagine the kids to run about and do mischief in the lush green parks and fields but what you get in the real world is this innocence getting raped of their childhood. Rules and restrictions imposed by the so called “messengers of Allah” have restrained the free spirit and imagination of the children. These rules also apply to the adults but it becomes extremely difficult to make the naïve minds understand the implications and complications of the evil forces of Taliban. At the tender age of 8-10 years when you are physically, emotionally and sexually abused, nothing and not even God can make you see the good side of life. The sweet singing of birds has been replaced by the bombing of the shells; your mother’s lullaby has turned into sorrowful screams, you don’t have a father around to take care of you, you do not know what it is to play with other kids, you have lost the sense of speech due to fear and shock, you are shaking with trepidation when you walk in your neighborhood and you are even afraid to go off to sleep because of the nightmares that will haunt you throughout. Is this what Allah had wished for when He gave them the gift of life?

What I gather from the principles of the Taliban is that they are doing the job of spreading the message of Allah so that they could secure a place in heaven. But the one thing I do not understand is by destroying the very presence of Allah and heaven on earth, how can they be sure of a seat in a heaven elsewhere?

Same is the condition with all other war torn regions including Kashmir and Palestinian territories. The continent of Africa which is struck by poverty and civil war for decades, has a different tale but with the same moral of tortured childhood. If Kashmir, Palestine or Africa seems far fetched, then the scenes of 5-6 year olds begging (again in the name of God) at the traffic signals in cities like Mumbai would be examples closer to home. I feel that these kids also meet with the same fate as the children in Kashmir but sans the gun firing and the continuous bombing. They too loose their freedom.

God, I feel, is discriminating His children by giving some child all the world’s happiness and on the other hand He takes away the soul of a child from some place else. Why?

What people around do not understand is that by crushing the love, innocence and the imagination in the souls of today’s children we are not winning the present but defeating our tomorrow, the essence of mankind. From now on, I have decided to say a prayer for all these children. Inshallah, there will be peace someday.