It had been two months since everything had fallen apart and while I sat down thinking, what had gone wrong in the chain of events, I somehow felt that the universe had its ways of showing us human mortals, that not everything is destined as we had planned it. We all have to walk a path, a path of right or wrong, and a path of understanding. I had stood on cross roads where everything on the left wasn’t right and everything on the right wasn’t left.
The irony was that while all this time, I had believed in my dreams, my dreams had somehow deceived me. My visions had become blurred and while once in a while I would see a vision that would shudder my soul. I had little or no reason to believe any longer in them. I had always believed that if you believe in a dream long enough sooner or later the universe will conspire and give it to you and yet it seemed impossible in my current scenario of achieving it. I had lost it all. It wasn’t that I had intentionally decided to lose it. It had just happened, slowly but surely, bit by bit everything had fallen apart and while I willingly had turned a blind eye to the events that were unfolding, little did i know that life did not come with a "the end" title after you lost everything. It goes on.
I on the other hand had fallen from grace. I felt like St. Michael, suffering the wrath of God. I had in my hurry to the top had ignored how God in his own wisdom has plans for all of us and while there are stories of inspiration all around us of how people had made it out of the bottomless pit of suffering, I had made it out of it and yet once again had gone back in to it, to suffer some more. Was life going to give me another chance, Was God willing to give me another chance or was I to suffer for all the sins I had committed once I was out in to the clear. Where had I gone wrong? What were the mistakes, I had made in life that had brought me in to this state. Where were all the dreams gone? Every once in a while I would swear to have my sweet revenge and then my love would stop me. Someone once told me if you love someone let them go, if they come back they were yours. Do I believe in it any longer? She is long gone and married.
Do I hunt her down and take my revenge? It is not right. No matter how much I have suffered, I owe at least that much to the beautiful moments that once formed that perfect life, I so much cherished. I have often wondered what my aim in life is. Was it to bring peace to broken souls and yet I myself suffered in agony. Of course when I read medical journals, people who talk in such language are termed to be suffering from some sort of mania. I of course if not an angel, definitely don’t like to stoop to ordinary human levels and take revenge. It is all Karma, and when we indulge in wrong karma we have to suffer the consequences. I was doing the same only this time round, perhaps i did not believe i had done anything wrong. I had been cheated upon, lied to and in the end expected to understand the decision. In ordinary terms be a spineless human and when I had stood up and said no, was humiliated in front of my family.
It had all the makings of a great soap on the national television, and yet I somehow could not bring myself o relive all those moments to tell a story, a story of love, sacrifice, commitment, faith and loyalty. A story of deceit, opportunism, convenience and mind games. Of two people sitting on the other ends of the world, lonely and sad and while one of them stood strong in the path of bringing them together eliminating every opportunity that could stop it, the other one took every opportunity to destroy it.
The story however does not end here as life in the past had shown me, how things change and while I may have been wrong was it worth waiting for. Why couldn’t I feel happy just like had felt happy for others. Why was it any different from the rest of the lot? I knew the answer now. I had lost to much in an effort to make it work and in the end lost it too, but then perhaps God has some other plans for me. All I needed was to wait and let my dreams come true at the right time and place, after all it all gets manifested, just the way it is supposed to.
Monday, December 05, 2011
Thursday, September 08, 2011
Karma (vs) Destiny
Karma is a strong word. In the Hindu mythology Karma defines what a human being does for a living or in general to spend his life. Often it is said that karma is what a man or woman choose and one has to live with the consequences of his or her karma throughout life. I did believe in this philosophy but then there is a greater thing than karma and it is called destiny. Destiny has got no relation to karma and often our karma’s become what is foretold in our destiny. It does not matter how an interview went. If the job is in your destiny, you are going to say the right things, if not all the qualifications in the world may not give you that most sought after dream job.
I do know the sceptics would try to assure me that out destiny is in our own hands and yet I would like to assure them, that our karmas become according to what destiny suggests. How would then I explain the déjà vu moments I have that come true with time. I am pretty sure it is our destiny that is guiding our karmas in such a way that events like those come true. Yes, they are fore warnings and yet do we take action to change any of those events. No we do not.
We would more often than not just feel that it was a bad dream only until we are in the right place and the right time wondering if we could have done something to change the whole situation. In the last three years, I had plenty of déjà vu and more often than not I chose to ignore them not only because of the unfamiliar surroundings but also for a fact that, I did not believe that they were going to come true and yet time and again my destiny has played its cruel game of making me think and act in a peculiar fashion only for those dreams to come true.
It is a complex process that our intuition is one thing that is a fore bearer of events. We often tend to think positively and yet in time we tend to forget the events that we had seen. It’s strange but true that these events can occur from one day in to the future to a few months and in my case it took me a year to understand what my dream was trying to tell me when I was so much in love. It told me clearly of everything and yet I tried to change it only to fall flat on my face. Our intuition, it still believes that I am not going to go back and yet everything seems to be pointing in one direction.
Do I believe in my karmas or my destiny, it is a good question because karmas just tend to become the way my destiny wants them. How do I change it? I can’t. The mere thought process is such that no matter how much you try it is going to go in sync with your destiny. What is my destiny? I do not know but I do know one thing that my karmas will become such that my destiny is going to be the guide to a better future. A future that we all hope we have and yet is something that eludes us.
Why would I then see buying myself a nice black dial tag watch or wearing a light brown suit crying out loud “you only want to marry me because I got millions now?” Karma, destiny, fate or just a dream that arose from my subconscious because of my obsession with money. A déjà vu. Who knows only tomorrow, a few months or maybe a few years from now on, can hold the answer, when I say it.
I do know the sceptics would try to assure me that out destiny is in our own hands and yet I would like to assure them, that our karmas become according to what destiny suggests. How would then I explain the déjà vu moments I have that come true with time. I am pretty sure it is our destiny that is guiding our karmas in such a way that events like those come true. Yes, they are fore warnings and yet do we take action to change any of those events. No we do not.
We would more often than not just feel that it was a bad dream only until we are in the right place and the right time wondering if we could have done something to change the whole situation. In the last three years, I had plenty of déjà vu and more often than not I chose to ignore them not only because of the unfamiliar surroundings but also for a fact that, I did not believe that they were going to come true and yet time and again my destiny has played its cruel game of making me think and act in a peculiar fashion only for those dreams to come true.
It is a complex process that our intuition is one thing that is a fore bearer of events. We often tend to think positively and yet in time we tend to forget the events that we had seen. It’s strange but true that these events can occur from one day in to the future to a few months and in my case it took me a year to understand what my dream was trying to tell me when I was so much in love. It told me clearly of everything and yet I tried to change it only to fall flat on my face. Our intuition, it still believes that I am not going to go back and yet everything seems to be pointing in one direction.
Do I believe in my karmas or my destiny, it is a good question because karmas just tend to become the way my destiny wants them. How do I change it? I can’t. The mere thought process is such that no matter how much you try it is going to go in sync with your destiny. What is my destiny? I do not know but I do know one thing that my karmas will become such that my destiny is going to be the guide to a better future. A future that we all hope we have and yet is something that eludes us.
Why would I then see buying myself a nice black dial tag watch or wearing a light brown suit crying out loud “you only want to marry me because I got millions now?” Karma, destiny, fate or just a dream that arose from my subconscious because of my obsession with money. A déjà vu. Who knows only tomorrow, a few months or maybe a few years from now on, can hold the answer, when I say it.
Friday, September 02, 2011
The M square
Of all the tribes of the zodiac, Sagittarius is most skilled at not trying too hard. That isn't to say that you're lazy or lax. What I mean is that when it's time for you to up the ante and push toward your goal with more force and determination, you know how to cultivate a sense of spaciousness. You've got an innate knack for maintaining at least a touch of cool while immersed in the heat of the struggle. Even when the going gets tough, you can find oases of rejuvenating ease.
It is always rather strange how a human mind does not want to accept the mere facts and clings to a hope. A hope that acts a guiding beacon at times and yet becomes the biggest nemesis of life. It makes you forgive and when you know you are being cheated upon, you tend to believe otherwise. Life comes in technicolour my friend, sometimes good and sometimes ugly. What has happened in the last year was summed in one nice long paragraph, how I had faltered, how I was the culprit and how I was the devil. It did open my eyes to the fact that, never ever get in to someone else’s problem, because it’s just not worth it.. You do not need someone else’s pain to screw up your life, because when you are in pain no one ever will come forward and say, “Sid, here I am, let me help you.”
I should be feeling angry, but does anger solve anything. The only thing it ever does is to break that bond with your spiritual self. The person you are, the person you are trying to become. I do know that when you love someone, you tend to protect the relation but when that same person hits you in the balls, you tend to double up. Then off course the theory of full red circle comes in to play. What you do unto others will eventually come back to you. What you did to Priyanka came back and hit me hard in the place where it hurts more.
Well, somehow everything seems to fall in to place now. The pieces of the puzzle are finally making sense. It was a good decision not to meet her, because while the ultimate revenge was being planned to finally put me in to an asylum, I did stop dead in my tracks and I knew what was happening, only too naïve to believe it being true. What is sad is to take revenge, someone can actually convince themselves of what is right and what is wrong, when they know it themselves where they stand eventually. Sad but true and still, I can just stand on the edge of the cliff, extend my hand. To grab it is the only thing someone has to do and if they decide to jump, well, all you can hope is they meet a quick demise.
It is rather strange that today is the day when I move on in life. Living a dream and not able to fulfil it could have its disadvantages. First of them however is, you need to set a goal in life. What do I love the most? The analysis is rather difficult but then the choice however rather clear. Looking back, what excites me the most? What caused the rift between all my relations. It was money. So it is money that excites me. Nothing wrong with it and then it’s me. So the two things I love the most is me , myself and money . The “M” square.
Yeah all right, I was taken for a ride. So what? Do I care? Come to think of it practically, I don’t . Come to think of it emotionally , I do. “Hello, not again.” the question remains would I extend my hand to that person ever again in life. Kind of difficult to answer. Just like in the game of chess we have to make moves in life and yet in life, we do not know which pawns are black and which are white.
I have made my moves and since they turned out to be black, I do not regret it, because I know the next move is going to be white. It is elusive; Lot of time and effort wasted but goal finally has become clear. The moves are clear. What gives me most happiness is clear. It is good to have a single track mind and while it was engaged in the pursuit of pain ever, it is time to pursue happiness. Happiness in the pursuit of “M” square.
Today as I write this, I do not know, if I am ever going to see her or talk to her ever again but if the world is a small place, we will bang in to each other in the strangest of places, least expected. The only difference will however be “M” square. No one can falter me off the goal till I decide to do so and I really don’t care how long and how difficult the road ahead might be. My single track mind is set on the objective and the objective is my own personal wellbeing. No one can or will ever play with my mind again.
The truth is however all you had to say the three magic words “I moved on” and in all the world no one had to suffer, no bad feelings and every one would have been happy.
It is always rather strange how a human mind does not want to accept the mere facts and clings to a hope. A hope that acts a guiding beacon at times and yet becomes the biggest nemesis of life. It makes you forgive and when you know you are being cheated upon, you tend to believe otherwise. Life comes in technicolour my friend, sometimes good and sometimes ugly. What has happened in the last year was summed in one nice long paragraph, how I had faltered, how I was the culprit and how I was the devil. It did open my eyes to the fact that, never ever get in to someone else’s problem, because it’s just not worth it.. You do not need someone else’s pain to screw up your life, because when you are in pain no one ever will come forward and say, “Sid, here I am, let me help you.”
I should be feeling angry, but does anger solve anything. The only thing it ever does is to break that bond with your spiritual self. The person you are, the person you are trying to become. I do know that when you love someone, you tend to protect the relation but when that same person hits you in the balls, you tend to double up. Then off course the theory of full red circle comes in to play. What you do unto others will eventually come back to you. What you did to Priyanka came back and hit me hard in the place where it hurts more.
Well, somehow everything seems to fall in to place now. The pieces of the puzzle are finally making sense. It was a good decision not to meet her, because while the ultimate revenge was being planned to finally put me in to an asylum, I did stop dead in my tracks and I knew what was happening, only too naïve to believe it being true. What is sad is to take revenge, someone can actually convince themselves of what is right and what is wrong, when they know it themselves where they stand eventually. Sad but true and still, I can just stand on the edge of the cliff, extend my hand. To grab it is the only thing someone has to do and if they decide to jump, well, all you can hope is they meet a quick demise.
It is rather strange that today is the day when I move on in life. Living a dream and not able to fulfil it could have its disadvantages. First of them however is, you need to set a goal in life. What do I love the most? The analysis is rather difficult but then the choice however rather clear. Looking back, what excites me the most? What caused the rift between all my relations. It was money. So it is money that excites me. Nothing wrong with it and then it’s me. So the two things I love the most is me , myself and money . The “M” square.
Yeah all right, I was taken for a ride. So what? Do I care? Come to think of it practically, I don’t . Come to think of it emotionally , I do. “Hello, not again.” the question remains would I extend my hand to that person ever again in life. Kind of difficult to answer. Just like in the game of chess we have to make moves in life and yet in life, we do not know which pawns are black and which are white.
I have made my moves and since they turned out to be black, I do not regret it, because I know the next move is going to be white. It is elusive; Lot of time and effort wasted but goal finally has become clear. The moves are clear. What gives me most happiness is clear. It is good to have a single track mind and while it was engaged in the pursuit of pain ever, it is time to pursue happiness. Happiness in the pursuit of “M” square.
Today as I write this, I do not know, if I am ever going to see her or talk to her ever again but if the world is a small place, we will bang in to each other in the strangest of places, least expected. The only difference will however be “M” square. No one can falter me off the goal till I decide to do so and I really don’t care how long and how difficult the road ahead might be. My single track mind is set on the objective and the objective is my own personal wellbeing. No one can or will ever play with my mind again.
The truth is however all you had to say the three magic words “I moved on” and in all the world no one had to suffer, no bad feelings and every one would have been happy.
Thursday, August 25, 2011
Post -Mortem
Go where the drama is, Sagittarius, but not where the melodrama is. Place yourself in the path of the most interesting power, but don't get distracted by displays of power that are dehumanizing or narcissistic. You are in a phase of your astrological cycle when you have a mandate to intensify your excitement with life and increase your ability to be deeply engaged with what attracts you. I urge you to be as brave as you once were when you conquered a big fear and to be as curious as you were when you discovered a big secret about who you are. For extra credit, be highly demonstrative in your expression of what you care about.
This was the weeks forecast for my star sign. Go where the drama is, but not where the melodrama is. I wondered as I sat down reading the statement. I had come to completion of a long journey, which had been nothing but pain in the back side. Three years of constant struggle with few periods of joy and excitement. There were so many dreams, hopes, aspirations that had been shattered due to unavoidable circumstances. I was no longer the innocent person I used to be, and while I had decided not to fall in to any traps of the love kind again , a melodrama started to unveil itself right before my eyes. I was being blamed for not responding to telephone numbers and not keeping in touch and yet I was too cautious not to fall in to that trap again. After all I had suffered enough and did not want to put myself in to any more pain again. Those who know me know it well that once I become cold its really tough to make me warm again because cold is generally associated with death and once someone or something dies, it is gone. I may respond but may never feel the same again because something died and when you try to revive it, all you discover is worms of the past and that rotten smell.
I decided to place myself in the path of a more interesting power. The power of my mind and decided to go forward and study the complex functioning of my mind. It had been lately playing havoc with my psyche showing me signs of the future to come and it was extremely important for me to read these signals than fall prey to mind games that someone was trying to play with me once again. I really wasn’t keen on it any more. It was really up to me how and where I put an end to it. It was easy .
My mandate in life was to do something extraordinary and not falling in to complex relationships with no future was definitely not going to be a part of it any more so I decided to take this road trip and yet as I stop on my journey, making these notes, it is something important that I need to do as these questions with no answers will keep on haunting my mind if I do not respond to them. Over the years I have realized that the best way to sort out your mind is to write it all down, so it does acts a guiding force in the future. Off course you are not going to listen to what your mind at that point of time told was correct. You either are too madly in love not wanting to believe that the person you are in love with is going to hurt you more than the last one. Perhaps you try to make a relationship successful and not make the same mistakes as you did in the last, but, in the end if your destiny defines you as not meant for love, you shall be hurt even worse.
It does say to conquer your biggest fear. I was always afraid of falling in love. I knew when it came to sustaining myself in the real world, I would figure out a way and God has always been merciful in those regards. It is only this “Love” that has often caused problems in my life. Someone once told me if not said with conviction means nothing. How true it was because I do believe that whenever I have said it, I have always meant it. Perhaps I loved that person too much and used it too often for it to have lost meaning in that person’s eyes.
It is not that, I don’t feel bad. I may proclaim a lot of things about myself and yet when asked a simple question “I think you still love me” I am not able to answer it. May be love is like a fire, when you fuel it, it burns bright and when it dies down, the ambers still are hot enough, that is taken as love. The only thing that can help in such cases is to put ice cold water and yet we are afraid that the ashes may generate enough steam to scald us for life. The best way is to leave it alone. With time everything dies and the ambers will also become cold to be swept away by strong rains or winds.
Who am I? A question that has perplexed me for ages and an answer that I seek. I was named Siddhartha. It means one whose aim in life is accomplished. It is a rather strange case to be born with your life’s aim accomplished, without even knowing it. I may be fortunate for knowing it and yet my quest for a true soul mate deludes me. May be I will find her, maybe I don’t. I really don’t care about it anymore for I am setting off on a new quest. A journey that is only beginning.
This was the weeks forecast for my star sign. Go where the drama is, but not where the melodrama is. I wondered as I sat down reading the statement. I had come to completion of a long journey, which had been nothing but pain in the back side. Three years of constant struggle with few periods of joy and excitement. There were so many dreams, hopes, aspirations that had been shattered due to unavoidable circumstances. I was no longer the innocent person I used to be, and while I had decided not to fall in to any traps of the love kind again , a melodrama started to unveil itself right before my eyes. I was being blamed for not responding to telephone numbers and not keeping in touch and yet I was too cautious not to fall in to that trap again. After all I had suffered enough and did not want to put myself in to any more pain again. Those who know me know it well that once I become cold its really tough to make me warm again because cold is generally associated with death and once someone or something dies, it is gone. I may respond but may never feel the same again because something died and when you try to revive it, all you discover is worms of the past and that rotten smell.
I decided to place myself in the path of a more interesting power. The power of my mind and decided to go forward and study the complex functioning of my mind. It had been lately playing havoc with my psyche showing me signs of the future to come and it was extremely important for me to read these signals than fall prey to mind games that someone was trying to play with me once again. I really wasn’t keen on it any more. It was really up to me how and where I put an end to it. It was easy .
My mandate in life was to do something extraordinary and not falling in to complex relationships with no future was definitely not going to be a part of it any more so I decided to take this road trip and yet as I stop on my journey, making these notes, it is something important that I need to do as these questions with no answers will keep on haunting my mind if I do not respond to them. Over the years I have realized that the best way to sort out your mind is to write it all down, so it does acts a guiding force in the future. Off course you are not going to listen to what your mind at that point of time told was correct. You either are too madly in love not wanting to believe that the person you are in love with is going to hurt you more than the last one. Perhaps you try to make a relationship successful and not make the same mistakes as you did in the last, but, in the end if your destiny defines you as not meant for love, you shall be hurt even worse.
It does say to conquer your biggest fear. I was always afraid of falling in love. I knew when it came to sustaining myself in the real world, I would figure out a way and God has always been merciful in those regards. It is only this “Love” that has often caused problems in my life. Someone once told me if not said with conviction means nothing. How true it was because I do believe that whenever I have said it, I have always meant it. Perhaps I loved that person too much and used it too often for it to have lost meaning in that person’s eyes.
It is not that, I don’t feel bad. I may proclaim a lot of things about myself and yet when asked a simple question “I think you still love me” I am not able to answer it. May be love is like a fire, when you fuel it, it burns bright and when it dies down, the ambers still are hot enough, that is taken as love. The only thing that can help in such cases is to put ice cold water and yet we are afraid that the ashes may generate enough steam to scald us for life. The best way is to leave it alone. With time everything dies and the ambers will also become cold to be swept away by strong rains or winds.
Who am I? A question that has perplexed me for ages and an answer that I seek. I was named Siddhartha. It means one whose aim in life is accomplished. It is a rather strange case to be born with your life’s aim accomplished, without even knowing it. I may be fortunate for knowing it and yet my quest for a true soul mate deludes me. May be I will find her, maybe I don’t. I really don’t care about it anymore for I am setting off on a new quest. A journey that is only beginning.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
PSI or just going Insane
In Lewis Carroll's Through the Looking Glass, the White Queen tells Alice that in her land, "memory works both ways." Not only can the Queen remember things from the past, but she also remembers "things that happened the week after next." Alice attempts to argue with the Queen, stating "I'm sure mine only works one way... I can't remember things before they happen." The Queen replies, "It's a poor sort of memory that only works backwards.”
There is no escaping the complex mind. As I sat down wondering how can I get rid of the thoughts that plagued me, intrigued me no matter where I went. The road trip was coming up nicely but the very things that I was trying to escape kept on haunting me. After all you can’t stop your mind from functioning and to block any thoughts seemed impossible.
It was this time my mind had started to churn out scenarios from the future in the form of dreams, vivid in colours and descriptions, the details were amazing and often I would wake up wondering if it was a dream of reality. In the fleeting seconds of dreaming I would capture details of events that were going to happen in the near future and this is when I discovered the phenomenon called PSI. Our brains could actually go forward in space and time and bring forth events that had already happened or were to happen. At first I thought it was Déjà vu, where insignificant events were being shown in great details but then the déjà vu started to occur more often and I could in my dream state actually go to the events as they occurred.
The events were insignificant still like chat conversations or daily activities, but they were occurring more often and the time space gap was reducing. I was seeing events that would happen as close to the next day which surprised me. I was actually able to see the future as it was going to happen the next day. This was a perplexing phenomenon and while no answers were on the internet, my mind was creating havoc with my psyche. The events now were merging together to form alternate reality that was different to the real world and dream world. I would not know now what was real and what wasn’t.
It was during this time I started to talk to my guiding angels, Angels that I had made peace with not long ago and perhaps not being able to talk to any one in particular they were the only ones whom I would speak to. Ten years ago when I was living in Agra all alone a similar phenomenon had occurred when I would speak to God. This time it wasn’t loud conversations but seeking guidance for salvation from the agony I was going through both in personnel and professional life.
The hazy events as seen in dreams would often manifest right before my eyes leaving me wondering if I was to believe in them or not. For that matter how do I make out what was real and what was just a figment of my imagination. The answer lies in belief. The dreams that you have are all real and will come true if you believe in them. They are just a symbolism of events that are about to occur and if you work on them and are able to bring forward some essential elements from the future in to your past, you just may collide to worlds, creating different reality in your life.
It does seem impossible but over the months and after lot of trial and errors I have finally been able to control my dream world and remember things that are a part of the alternate reality. As said before when the parallel universe you live in collides with the real world. It becomes one. The world you were living in becomes the world you dreamt off. However it does take a lot of patience and belief which over the years, living alone and believing in a dream can only fulfil. It’s not impossible. Nothing in this world is actually impossible and when you truly believe, it will happen but for sure you first have to believe in it and then let the guiding angels talk to you, how where and when it will come true through dreams. However it is important that you believe in them and act knowing well that the only way out is the way in. Once you have acted upon, there is no way you can go back and the only way is to move forward because when alternate reality merges with the real world, there is not much you can do to change it .
Coming back to the cause and effect phenomenon or the PSI phenomenon, it is often said we all are mere mortals guided by our destinies and yet we seem to ignore the signals that our brains send to us in the form of future events or dreams knowing or dismissing it as just a dream. When you actually are able to listen to the signals, and act upon it. To sum it up we do know what is a lost cause and yet we fight to achieve it or we know that in the future certain events are about to happen yet we ignore then until it’s too late.
I do understand it does not make sense but then it is my mind that for now is making me go forward and make me understand that I may be knowing what’s going to happen in my immediate future as close as tomorrow but then those are just minor events, no life altering events until I am able to figure out a way to control my dreams to tell me what I really need to know.
There is no escaping the complex mind. As I sat down wondering how can I get rid of the thoughts that plagued me, intrigued me no matter where I went. The road trip was coming up nicely but the very things that I was trying to escape kept on haunting me. After all you can’t stop your mind from functioning and to block any thoughts seemed impossible.
It was this time my mind had started to churn out scenarios from the future in the form of dreams, vivid in colours and descriptions, the details were amazing and often I would wake up wondering if it was a dream of reality. In the fleeting seconds of dreaming I would capture details of events that were going to happen in the near future and this is when I discovered the phenomenon called PSI. Our brains could actually go forward in space and time and bring forth events that had already happened or were to happen. At first I thought it was Déjà vu, where insignificant events were being shown in great details but then the déjà vu started to occur more often and I could in my dream state actually go to the events as they occurred.
The events were insignificant still like chat conversations or daily activities, but they were occurring more often and the time space gap was reducing. I was seeing events that would happen as close to the next day which surprised me. I was actually able to see the future as it was going to happen the next day. This was a perplexing phenomenon and while no answers were on the internet, my mind was creating havoc with my psyche. The events now were merging together to form alternate reality that was different to the real world and dream world. I would not know now what was real and what wasn’t.
It was during this time I started to talk to my guiding angels, Angels that I had made peace with not long ago and perhaps not being able to talk to any one in particular they were the only ones whom I would speak to. Ten years ago when I was living in Agra all alone a similar phenomenon had occurred when I would speak to God. This time it wasn’t loud conversations but seeking guidance for salvation from the agony I was going through both in personnel and professional life.
The hazy events as seen in dreams would often manifest right before my eyes leaving me wondering if I was to believe in them or not. For that matter how do I make out what was real and what was just a figment of my imagination. The answer lies in belief. The dreams that you have are all real and will come true if you believe in them. They are just a symbolism of events that are about to occur and if you work on them and are able to bring forward some essential elements from the future in to your past, you just may collide to worlds, creating different reality in your life.
It does seem impossible but over the months and after lot of trial and errors I have finally been able to control my dream world and remember things that are a part of the alternate reality. As said before when the parallel universe you live in collides with the real world. It becomes one. The world you were living in becomes the world you dreamt off. However it does take a lot of patience and belief which over the years, living alone and believing in a dream can only fulfil. It’s not impossible. Nothing in this world is actually impossible and when you truly believe, it will happen but for sure you first have to believe in it and then let the guiding angels talk to you, how where and when it will come true through dreams. However it is important that you believe in them and act knowing well that the only way out is the way in. Once you have acted upon, there is no way you can go back and the only way is to move forward because when alternate reality merges with the real world, there is not much you can do to change it .
Coming back to the cause and effect phenomenon or the PSI phenomenon, it is often said we all are mere mortals guided by our destinies and yet we seem to ignore the signals that our brains send to us in the form of future events or dreams knowing or dismissing it as just a dream. When you actually are able to listen to the signals, and act upon it. To sum it up we do know what is a lost cause and yet we fight to achieve it or we know that in the future certain events are about to happen yet we ignore then until it’s too late.
I do understand it does not make sense but then it is my mind that for now is making me go forward and make me understand that I may be knowing what’s going to happen in my immediate future as close as tomorrow but then those are just minor events, no life altering events until I am able to figure out a way to control my dreams to tell me what I really need to know.
Monday, August 22, 2011
The complex mind
The highest unclimbed mountain in the world is Gangkhar Puensum, an almost 25,000-foot-tall beauty in Bhutan. It will remain free of human influence indefinitely, as local authorities are keen on preventing the environmental degradation that has occurred on popular peaks like Mt. Everest, where climbers have left lots of trash. What's the equivalent in your sphere, Sagittarius? The most prominent unconquered prize? The Grail that still remains elusive? The virgin treasure your quest has not yet won? According to my analysis, you now have the potential to make tangible progress toward that goal. Unlike the case with Gangkhar Puensum, there are no rules or laws preventing you.
This was supposed to be my horoscope for the week. Well unlike the Everest (yes, it’s on my to do list for sure), I sat down wondering what was that ever elusive goal I had been seeking in life. What is the Holy Grail? It definitely doesn’t represent the carpenter’s cup promising eternal life and yet in its search I had failed more than once in life, often ignoring the well sought after lessons life has to offer.
It could be only some form a test that has been laid out in front of me, that requires devotion and years of practise and yet my solution to it has been to create a world of alternate reality where everything, I ever want is manifested on my beck and command. I have lived in this world for the last six months and perhaps had lost touch with reality which offers harsh lessons, which I couldn’t ignore any more.
I had been reading a lot of things about how things can be manifested when you desire truly deeply and yet my only desire was remained unfulfilled that off course did not involve any miracles but just a little communication on some ones part. It’s strange how my Holy Grail had eluded me once more only to re-assess the situation and wonder, if it had all been ever worth it. Does commitment even meant anything anymore, when people are just selfish in nature.
Surly there is a lot to learn from the last three years, the lessons learnt, the need full done and yet one thing remains intact, my confidence and determination to take life heads on. This however does have a few changes. Over the last three years I learnt so well, never sacrifice anything for any one because in general people do not appreciate when you do something for them and in the end it is you who has to suffer.
It is a tough road ahead of me in life; off course my alternate reality helps me keep focused on my path only to change me a little more. Is it called maturity? I wonder if I could ever play my computer games for hours together forgetting about the world in general, where completing the next level used to be the most important task on hand. The Holy Grail achieved after two days of trial and error. The satisfaction of completing a level and moving on to the next one at four in the morning wondering what was in store for me next?
I could no longer sit in front of my gaming console and five minutes of shooting in the air left me wondering, why I was even trying to shoot when, I was not even aiming right. It was time to think once again, and then it dawned to me that I was a grown up. Life had finally made me bend down but had it broken me, I wondered?
What is the best way out of the mess? Yes after years of loitering around not taking life seriously, keeping others before me, I knew it was time to take out my things to do list. After all I remember completing most of the things to do before thirty list. Ok, so is it time to make things to do before forty list?
I sat down with a pen and paper and tried writing down. Did I really want to write everything down and make my life predictable for the next six odd years? Nah, that’s not me. I live in uncertainty and that is what gives me the adrenaline rush to look forward to the next day. The thrill of a jump is only when you do not know how far or how deep you are going to fall. So I folded the paper and chucked it in the bin. Where am I headed next?
Definitely not to repeat the old experiences, they are boring for me. What do I believe in? I believe that everything in my alternate reality will collide with the real world and merge together to make me a better human being. What is my aim in life? I have been searching for my aim since the last fifteen years and yet a settled life does not figure on it, no matter how hard I try to achieve it. I once told my friend, if you get married life would be coming home having a cup of tea, talking to your wife, watching television, have food and sleep. I somehow over the years longed for it, tried so hard for it, and yet to complete the equation you need someone who is guided by a free will, something I forgot about. Your wish may come true because you pray hard and finally one day God has mercy on you and manifests it, but even God can’t control free will. It is something that God gave us to make our decisions and when we try to control, we lose.
The road trip had been something; I had been planning for ages. It’s not inspired by any movies; it does not have a definite travel route. I plan to travel, the road where ever it takes me, because it’s a road trip, which more importantly than not is not the physical trip from point A to point B but a trip in to my mind, that keeps churning out complex equations without any answers.
This was supposed to be my horoscope for the week. Well unlike the Everest (yes, it’s on my to do list for sure), I sat down wondering what was that ever elusive goal I had been seeking in life. What is the Holy Grail? It definitely doesn’t represent the carpenter’s cup promising eternal life and yet in its search I had failed more than once in life, often ignoring the well sought after lessons life has to offer.
It could be only some form a test that has been laid out in front of me, that requires devotion and years of practise and yet my solution to it has been to create a world of alternate reality where everything, I ever want is manifested on my beck and command. I have lived in this world for the last six months and perhaps had lost touch with reality which offers harsh lessons, which I couldn’t ignore any more.
I had been reading a lot of things about how things can be manifested when you desire truly deeply and yet my only desire was remained unfulfilled that off course did not involve any miracles but just a little communication on some ones part. It’s strange how my Holy Grail had eluded me once more only to re-assess the situation and wonder, if it had all been ever worth it. Does commitment even meant anything anymore, when people are just selfish in nature.
Surly there is a lot to learn from the last three years, the lessons learnt, the need full done and yet one thing remains intact, my confidence and determination to take life heads on. This however does have a few changes. Over the last three years I learnt so well, never sacrifice anything for any one because in general people do not appreciate when you do something for them and in the end it is you who has to suffer.
It is a tough road ahead of me in life; off course my alternate reality helps me keep focused on my path only to change me a little more. Is it called maturity? I wonder if I could ever play my computer games for hours together forgetting about the world in general, where completing the next level used to be the most important task on hand. The Holy Grail achieved after two days of trial and error. The satisfaction of completing a level and moving on to the next one at four in the morning wondering what was in store for me next?
I could no longer sit in front of my gaming console and five minutes of shooting in the air left me wondering, why I was even trying to shoot when, I was not even aiming right. It was time to think once again, and then it dawned to me that I was a grown up. Life had finally made me bend down but had it broken me, I wondered?
What is the best way out of the mess? Yes after years of loitering around not taking life seriously, keeping others before me, I knew it was time to take out my things to do list. After all I remember completing most of the things to do before thirty list. Ok, so is it time to make things to do before forty list?
I sat down with a pen and paper and tried writing down. Did I really want to write everything down and make my life predictable for the next six odd years? Nah, that’s not me. I live in uncertainty and that is what gives me the adrenaline rush to look forward to the next day. The thrill of a jump is only when you do not know how far or how deep you are going to fall. So I folded the paper and chucked it in the bin. Where am I headed next?
Definitely not to repeat the old experiences, they are boring for me. What do I believe in? I believe that everything in my alternate reality will collide with the real world and merge together to make me a better human being. What is my aim in life? I have been searching for my aim since the last fifteen years and yet a settled life does not figure on it, no matter how hard I try to achieve it. I once told my friend, if you get married life would be coming home having a cup of tea, talking to your wife, watching television, have food and sleep. I somehow over the years longed for it, tried so hard for it, and yet to complete the equation you need someone who is guided by a free will, something I forgot about. Your wish may come true because you pray hard and finally one day God has mercy on you and manifests it, but even God can’t control free will. It is something that God gave us to make our decisions and when we try to control, we lose.
The road trip had been something; I had been planning for ages. It’s not inspired by any movies; it does not have a definite travel route. I plan to travel, the road where ever it takes me, because it’s a road trip, which more importantly than not is not the physical trip from point A to point B but a trip in to my mind, that keeps churning out complex equations without any answers.
Wednesday, August 03, 2011
Osama's Ghost
As the news of Osama Bin laden shot dead trickeled in, i sat down and wondered how it was going to effect the world. Would the world was going to be a safer place. Would the world sleep in peace. The fact that Osama had been like a ghost for all these years, i feel he was just a figure head of a large corporation that sold terrorism as a product.
While the americans rejoice the death of a body, the ghost of bin laden survives in the form of his terror outfit al qaeda.
Al-Qaeda as an integrated network that is strongly led from the Pakistani tribal areas and has a powerful strategic purpose. Bruce Hoffman, a terrorism expert at Georgetown University, said "It amazes me that people don't think there is a clear adversary out there, and that our adversary does not have a strategic approach" Hoffman was so true when he made this statement. while the fact remains that Bin laden knew that after the attacks of 9/11 on the twin towers, he will be the most sought after. i do beleive that he had organised his chain of command and distributed power amidst his subordinates to retire in to the shadows. The additional time he got in the form of a decade was just an icing on the cake for the corporation. While it was inevitable for him to escape for ever, it does show the inefficiency of the American goverment who supported pakistan so vehemently.
While the USA issued travel warnings, it shows how afraid the americans still are of the ghost of laden. The fact is that it is going to haunt them in the times to come. Laden is dead only to be suceeded by 20 or 30 people who hold regional CEO positions for the network . While the group may get divided in to various outfits with no specific leader just as it happened with Alexander's empire, there is a posibilty, more attacks may occur as a matter of fact more vicious ones.
An organisation that believes in loyalty and jihad, where death is a way to the heaven, Osama bin laden was a decoy in a game that led the americans to loose billions of dollars and get involved in a war that has been on for ten years.It will be interesting to note how events are going to turn or just like inthe past .....as Osama died so many times before...he managed to decieve the Americans once again smiling, sitting in a bunker planning his next move, while a faithful loyal who underwent cosmetic surgery lies at the bottom of the sea.
While Obama's needed some thing to boost up his political career due to falling popularity, it comes as a perfect plan to increase it . A conspiracy theory seen so many times in the movies, but in real life for the first time to save a political career. As i sit and smile and wonder how the world falls for one man's political ambitions, Osama sits comfortable in a bunker thinking finally he became a ghost for real, or better still in heaven for he believed jihad was a way to heaven and he met his god finally
While the americans rejoice the death of a body, the ghost of bin laden survives in the form of his terror outfit al qaeda.
Al-Qaeda as an integrated network that is strongly led from the Pakistani tribal areas and has a powerful strategic purpose. Bruce Hoffman, a terrorism expert at Georgetown University, said "It amazes me that people don't think there is a clear adversary out there, and that our adversary does not have a strategic approach" Hoffman was so true when he made this statement. while the fact remains that Bin laden knew that after the attacks of 9/11 on the twin towers, he will be the most sought after. i do beleive that he had organised his chain of command and distributed power amidst his subordinates to retire in to the shadows. The additional time he got in the form of a decade was just an icing on the cake for the corporation. While it was inevitable for him to escape for ever, it does show the inefficiency of the American goverment who supported pakistan so vehemently.
While the USA issued travel warnings, it shows how afraid the americans still are of the ghost of laden. The fact is that it is going to haunt them in the times to come. Laden is dead only to be suceeded by 20 or 30 people who hold regional CEO positions for the network . While the group may get divided in to various outfits with no specific leader just as it happened with Alexander's empire, there is a posibilty, more attacks may occur as a matter of fact more vicious ones.
An organisation that believes in loyalty and jihad, where death is a way to the heaven, Osama bin laden was a decoy in a game that led the americans to loose billions of dollars and get involved in a war that has been on for ten years.It will be interesting to note how events are going to turn or just like inthe past .....as Osama died so many times before...he managed to decieve the Americans once again smiling, sitting in a bunker planning his next move, while a faithful loyal who underwent cosmetic surgery lies at the bottom of the sea.
While Obama's needed some thing to boost up his political career due to falling popularity, it comes as a perfect plan to increase it . A conspiracy theory seen so many times in the movies, but in real life for the first time to save a political career. As i sit and smile and wonder how the world falls for one man's political ambitions, Osama sits comfortable in a bunker thinking finally he became a ghost for real, or better still in heaven for he believed jihad was a way to heaven and he met his god finally
Terrorism A cause and effect study
While the world rejoices victory over terrorism, i sat down thinking once again. It kept bothering me how Osama bin laden was the most wanted man and how he was termed a terrorist. what is a terrorist.
A 2003 study by Jeffrey Record for the US Army quoted a source (Schmid and Jongman 1988) that counted 109 definitions of terrorism that covered a total of 22 different definitional elements. Record continued "Terrorism expert Walter Laqueur also has counted over 100 definitions and concludes that the 'only general characteristic generally agreed upon is that terrorism involves violence and the threat of violence.' Yet terrorism is hardly the only enterprise involving violence and the threat of violence. So does war, coercive diplomacy, and bar room brawls".
As Bruce Hoffman has noted: "terrorism is a pejorative term. It is a word with intrinsically negative connotations that is generally applied to one's enemies and opponents, or to those with whom one disagrees and would otherwise prefer to ignore. Hence the decision to call someone or label some organization 'terrorist' becomes almost unavoidably subjective, depending largely on whether one sympathizes with or opposes the person/group/cause concerned. If one identifies with the victim of the violence, for example, then the act is terrorism. If, however, one identifies with the perpetrator, the violent act is regarded in a more sympathetic, if not positive (or, at the worst, an ambivalent) light; and it is not terrorism." For this and for political reasons, many news sources (such as Reuters) avoid using this term, opting instead for less accusatory words like "bombers", "militants", etc.
Hoffman nailed the subject or should rather say the definition of terrorism. While in todays world it is the media who defines who is a terrorist and who's not, it is essential for us to go back in to time and see the reasons what made Osama bin laden.
After leaving college in 1979 bin Laden joined Abdullah Azzam to fight the Soviet Invasion of Afghanistan and lived for a time in Peshawar. From 1979 through 1989 under U.S. Presidents Carter and Reagan, the United States Central Intelligence Agency provided overt and covert financial aid, arms and training to Osama's Islamic Jihad Mujahideen through Operation Cyclone, and the Reagan Doctrine. President Reagan often praised the Mujahideen as Afghanistan's "Freedom Fighters."
By 1984, with Azzam, bin Laden established Maktab al-Khadamat, which funneled money, arms and Muslim fighters from around the Arabic world into the Afghan war. Through al-Khadamat, bin Laden's inherited family fortune paid for air tickets and accommodation, dealt with paperwork with Pakistani authorities and provided other such services for the jihad fighters. Osama established a camp in Afghanistan and with other volunteers fought the Soviets.
It was during his time in Peshawar that he began wearing camouflage-print jackets and carrying a captured Soviet assault rifle, which urban legends claimed he had obtained by killing a Russian soldier with his bare hands.
The same goverment that once praised the efforts of Mujahideen in their efforts to back of the russian invasion created a guriella force only to abandon it once its purpose was accomplished.
Following the Soviet Union's withdrawal from Afghanistan in February 1989, Osama bin Laden returned to Saudi Arabia in 1990 as a hero of jihad, who along with his Arab legion, "had brought down the mighty superpower" of the Soviet Union.
The Iraqi invasion of Kuwait under Saddam Hussein on August 2, 1990 put the Saudi kingdom and the House of Saud at risk, with Iraqi forces on the Saudi border and Saddam's appeal to pan-Arabism potentially inciting internal dissent. bin Laden met with King Fahd, and Saudi Defense Minister Sultan, telling them not to depend on non-Muslim assistance from the United States and others, offering to help defend Saudi Arabia with his mujahideen. Bin Laden's offer was rebuffed, and after the Saudi monarchy invited the deployment of U.S. troops in Saudi territory, Osama publicly denounced Saudi Arabia's dependence on the U.S. military. Osama believed the presence of foreign troops in the "land of the two mosques" (Mecca and Medina) profaned sacred soil. Bin Laden's criticism of the Saudi monarchy led that government to attempt to silence him.
Shortly after Saudi Arabia invited U.S. troops into Saudi Arabia, bin Laden turned his attention to attacks on the West. On November 8, 1990, the FBI raided the New Jersey home of El Sayyid Nosair, an associate of al Qaeda operative Ali Mohamed, discovering copious evidence of terrorist plots, including plans to blow up New York City skyscrapers. This marked the earliest discovery of al Qaeda terrorist plans outside of Muslim countries.
While the plans were discovered as early as 1990 to blow down the NY sky scrapers , the USA goverment did little as to curb down the inevitable threat only to be surprised on 9/11/2001. Eleven years after, it had knowledge of the full plot, declaring war on Afganistan.
Why did Osama Bin laden turn against the Americans, because he had realized in his war against the soviets, how Americans used the native population for their own advantage and all he had done was to try and stop the western world from taking over the black gold mines. He understood that the middle east once captured by the united nations will face the same fate as afganistan had .
He did what he wanted to do, bieng labeled as terrorist. The question however remains, can we hold him liable for his actions. He was just doing what any one of us would have done if an enemy entered our house, attack. While his religious views allowed sacrifice of civilians he chose to destroy the symbols of the american Monarchy ,the twin towers.
Over the years in its raid of afganistan millions of people are either dead or homeless by the hands of American troops. Going back to the definiton of hoffman, in this case american forces are the terrorists who on pretext of capturing Osama bin laden have over the years plundered Afganistan.
Going back in history, it can be seen that world war two ended by the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Japan had attacked the pearl harbour. a military attack held on military outpost of the americans. the cost was paid by millions of japanese civilians who no only died in the attack but had to bear the consequences of radiation for many more years to come . Drawing similarities between the two attacks the NY twin tower and the Atom bomb, the twin tower attacks had far lesser impact on the normal lively hood of people in the United states and yet America launched a full fledged war against a nation. While it may sound pretty anti - american but the fact is USA has always retaliated at a much larger scale, when ever such a thing has happened .
While the next destination of the American forces is Libya, that is right now going through a civil war, why is the USA concerned, remains a question except the fact that more recently, americans were on the verge of using their own oil reserves. It would be interesting to observe, that the reason for which the war was launched , now that it has be obliterated, will the war end or Afganistan like, iraq before will satisfy the greed of the american colgomerates who in the name of rebuilding will control the resources, ruling the nation.Freedom, a term used so vehemantly used, what does it mean if all we believe is what is fed to us through news footage and people on the streets waving the flag.
.
A 2003 study by Jeffrey Record for the US Army quoted a source (Schmid and Jongman 1988) that counted 109 definitions of terrorism that covered a total of 22 different definitional elements. Record continued "Terrorism expert Walter Laqueur also has counted over 100 definitions and concludes that the 'only general characteristic generally agreed upon is that terrorism involves violence and the threat of violence.' Yet terrorism is hardly the only enterprise involving violence and the threat of violence. So does war, coercive diplomacy, and bar room brawls".
As Bruce Hoffman has noted: "terrorism is a pejorative term. It is a word with intrinsically negative connotations that is generally applied to one's enemies and opponents, or to those with whom one disagrees and would otherwise prefer to ignore. Hence the decision to call someone or label some organization 'terrorist' becomes almost unavoidably subjective, depending largely on whether one sympathizes with or opposes the person/group/cause concerned. If one identifies with the victim of the violence, for example, then the act is terrorism. If, however, one identifies with the perpetrator, the violent act is regarded in a more sympathetic, if not positive (or, at the worst, an ambivalent) light; and it is not terrorism." For this and for political reasons, many news sources (such as Reuters) avoid using this term, opting instead for less accusatory words like "bombers", "militants", etc.
Hoffman nailed the subject or should rather say the definition of terrorism. While in todays world it is the media who defines who is a terrorist and who's not, it is essential for us to go back in to time and see the reasons what made Osama bin laden.
After leaving college in 1979 bin Laden joined Abdullah Azzam to fight the Soviet Invasion of Afghanistan and lived for a time in Peshawar. From 1979 through 1989 under U.S. Presidents Carter and Reagan, the United States Central Intelligence Agency provided overt and covert financial aid, arms and training to Osama's Islamic Jihad Mujahideen through Operation Cyclone, and the Reagan Doctrine. President Reagan often praised the Mujahideen as Afghanistan's "Freedom Fighters."
By 1984, with Azzam, bin Laden established Maktab al-Khadamat, which funneled money, arms and Muslim fighters from around the Arabic world into the Afghan war. Through al-Khadamat, bin Laden's inherited family fortune paid for air tickets and accommodation, dealt with paperwork with Pakistani authorities and provided other such services for the jihad fighters. Osama established a camp in Afghanistan and with other volunteers fought the Soviets.
It was during his time in Peshawar that he began wearing camouflage-print jackets and carrying a captured Soviet assault rifle, which urban legends claimed he had obtained by killing a Russian soldier with his bare hands.
The same goverment that once praised the efforts of Mujahideen in their efforts to back of the russian invasion created a guriella force only to abandon it once its purpose was accomplished.
Following the Soviet Union's withdrawal from Afghanistan in February 1989, Osama bin Laden returned to Saudi Arabia in 1990 as a hero of jihad, who along with his Arab legion, "had brought down the mighty superpower" of the Soviet Union.
The Iraqi invasion of Kuwait under Saddam Hussein on August 2, 1990 put the Saudi kingdom and the House of Saud at risk, with Iraqi forces on the Saudi border and Saddam's appeal to pan-Arabism potentially inciting internal dissent. bin Laden met with King Fahd, and Saudi Defense Minister Sultan, telling them not to depend on non-Muslim assistance from the United States and others, offering to help defend Saudi Arabia with his mujahideen. Bin Laden's offer was rebuffed, and after the Saudi monarchy invited the deployment of U.S. troops in Saudi territory, Osama publicly denounced Saudi Arabia's dependence on the U.S. military. Osama believed the presence of foreign troops in the "land of the two mosques" (Mecca and Medina) profaned sacred soil. Bin Laden's criticism of the Saudi monarchy led that government to attempt to silence him.
Shortly after Saudi Arabia invited U.S. troops into Saudi Arabia, bin Laden turned his attention to attacks on the West. On November 8, 1990, the FBI raided the New Jersey home of El Sayyid Nosair, an associate of al Qaeda operative Ali Mohamed, discovering copious evidence of terrorist plots, including plans to blow up New York City skyscrapers. This marked the earliest discovery of al Qaeda terrorist plans outside of Muslim countries.
While the plans were discovered as early as 1990 to blow down the NY sky scrapers , the USA goverment did little as to curb down the inevitable threat only to be surprised on 9/11/2001. Eleven years after, it had knowledge of the full plot, declaring war on Afganistan.
Why did Osama Bin laden turn against the Americans, because he had realized in his war against the soviets, how Americans used the native population for their own advantage and all he had done was to try and stop the western world from taking over the black gold mines. He understood that the middle east once captured by the united nations will face the same fate as afganistan had .
He did what he wanted to do, bieng labeled as terrorist. The question however remains, can we hold him liable for his actions. He was just doing what any one of us would have done if an enemy entered our house, attack. While his religious views allowed sacrifice of civilians he chose to destroy the symbols of the american Monarchy ,the twin towers.
Over the years in its raid of afganistan millions of people are either dead or homeless by the hands of American troops. Going back to the definiton of hoffman, in this case american forces are the terrorists who on pretext of capturing Osama bin laden have over the years plundered Afganistan.
Going back in history, it can be seen that world war two ended by the bombing of Hiroshima and Nagasaki. Japan had attacked the pearl harbour. a military attack held on military outpost of the americans. the cost was paid by millions of japanese civilians who no only died in the attack but had to bear the consequences of radiation for many more years to come . Drawing similarities between the two attacks the NY twin tower and the Atom bomb, the twin tower attacks had far lesser impact on the normal lively hood of people in the United states and yet America launched a full fledged war against a nation. While it may sound pretty anti - american but the fact is USA has always retaliated at a much larger scale, when ever such a thing has happened .
While the next destination of the American forces is Libya, that is right now going through a civil war, why is the USA concerned, remains a question except the fact that more recently, americans were on the verge of using their own oil reserves. It would be interesting to observe, that the reason for which the war was launched , now that it has be obliterated, will the war end or Afganistan like, iraq before will satisfy the greed of the american colgomerates who in the name of rebuilding will control the resources, ruling the nation.Freedom, a term used so vehemantly used, what does it mean if all we believe is what is fed to us through news footage and people on the streets waving the flag.
.
My brush with the Man eater of Kumaon
As I sat on my normal, everyday perch – the small rock at the foot of the hill on top of which is a temple with its saffron flag fluttering in the wind that always blows in the early part of the afternoon – and keep a watch over the buffalos who were not all visible now because they have wandered off in the vast jungle that stretched all around, I saw the man walking towards me from the end of the path. The path passed touching my rock – the rock actually butting into the path and covering about one fourth of it – and then stretched straight for about two hundred yards after which it took a slight bend towards the left. All around was silence punctured now and then and accentuated by the bells tied to the buffalos. So much silence that if a dead leaf falls, you could hear it touch-down. So much silence that, if you had ears as sharp as mine, you could hear it cutting the air as it fell. The mountain gods looked down and smiled. I wore a shabby look, which resembled that of any locale that had let go of his appearance a long time ago. As I felt the wind chill in my neck, I pulled my collars up to keep my ears warm as my beard swayed in the wind callously marking the insanity that I had entered in to.
The man is walking carefully, his senses alert. But he was not slow. From the distance I could see that he was a foreigner, a Lat Sahib, because he wore faded green trousers with a faded grey shirt and his head is adorned by a hat. He had a stick in his hand which he is held above the ground that swayed with his walk. A gun slung across his shoulders. He is quite tall and slim.
I knew who he was. Not that I had met him or come across him previously. But I knew from what I had heard from others that he is the Lat Sahib who has been putting up in the neighbouring village for the past three weeks. He had come here to kill the man-eater. He was good at it too – had killed many so far. I thought he was good because tigers were attracted to him. So they gave him a chance to kill them.
In a way the man-eater had contributed to the silence. In the past three years, this tiger had killed and eaten more than two hundred people from the hills. From that particular town itself, it had killed nineteen people. The last that it took was a young girl who had gone with ten or so other women in the afternoon to collect fuel wood. While they were doing so, the tiger stalked them. It followed them, silent like death, creeping like death and then springing with the suddenness of death. The women knew about its presence only when it had already grabbed the girl by her throat and was dragging her away. The remaining women shouted and screamed and stampeded back to the village, while the girl remained silent because she had her throat in the tiger’s jaws. By the time the men were summoned and a few of them summoned their courage and a search party was formed, the tiger had already soused its hunger completely. So what they brought back was just a few bits of flesh and a few bones and her red coloured clothes. She was cremated right there in the village itself because everyone was terrified of venturing farther than that.
Because of the man-eater, people didn’t move much. Men did go to their fields and women did go to collect sticks and leaves and grass. Because if you stop all that you would die anyway. But everyone was on their guard and tense all the time. And no one spent more time than necessary outdoors. By four in the afternoon, the doors were closed and people were already inside as a ghostly hushing hung outside the doors and floated in the streets. Tigers mostly don’t stir in the afternoon. They begin moving only just before sundown. But this one was unpredictable. The last victim that it took, she was taken when the afternoon hadn’t even started blushing. So people stood indoors even in the afternoons unless they had to step out. Traffic between villages had come to a halt – close relatives didn’t visit even in marriage ceremonies. Celebrations were less while cremations were more. I however was not scared and wondered if the tiger was watching me at that instant.
Since people had almost stopped visiting nearby villages, the traffic on this path had dwindled. As it is, it used to be deserted almost all the time even otherwise. But now, even the one or two who would pass during any given day are gone. The silence here is complete. Shiv Shakti was the last resort before one would enter the tiger territory.
Not that afternoon needed any assistance for its silence. In fact the silence of the afternoon was deeper than the silence of the night. Most people thought that it is the night that spreads more silence. But they couple the absence of light with the silence and reach their conclusions. Silence in the afternoon is deeper even with the light being harsh. In the night the tiger, the leopard the jackals hunt. It is the howls of the hyenas that make the night silence eerie. The bears are constantly on the move searching for food and their grunts and other sounds carry in the night. The hunted give alarm calls and run. Only the birds sleep. In the afternoon, all take shelter from the sun and conserve energy. Even the birds that filled the very air with their songs go silent. The only birds that seem unaffected are the crow, the woodpecker, the drongo, the blue jay, the bee eater and the egret.
The man was near my rock now. If my ears were not sharp, I wouldn’t have heard him. He was slowing down, looking at me. So I knew that he would stop and talk to me.
“Keeping a watch on the cows?” he asked.
“Buffalos,” I told him. He was sun burnt and very handsome. And he knew a bit of the local our language.
“Uh…huh,” he says. He took out a packet of cigarettes. I took out my packet as he lit up a cigarette. He looked at me disdainfully but didn’t comment.
“Got to keep alert.” He said “The buffalos went that way. ”
I looked at him. He knew very well which side Jindu buffalos must have wanders. Behind me were the hills and the temple atop it. It is a completely rocky terrain and buffalos won’t go up there because there was no grass. In front of me was the dense jungle that had enticed me so often but the stories of the tiger had kept me away. An odd tinkling or two of their bells is still audible from that side. But I knew why he is asking the question. When two strangers meet, inanities are the perfect tool to dissolve the initial awkwardness. I indicated which way they had wandered with a nod of my head.
“How long have you been a shepherd?” he asked me. “Idiot, thinks I am a shepherd.” I thought as I looked at him with a strange look but decided to play the game. I was feeling heady and didn’t want to tell him why I was here in the mountains or what I was searching. The fact was I knew that the tiger wasn’t going to harm me. My time hadn’t come and yet I wasn’t willing to take the risk of walking across the path and go that water fall that had lured me so many times before.
“The buffalos started knowing me from the time I was a child,” I lied.
He takes a good look at me now. “How long will you be here?” he asked.
I look at the shadows wondering if he wanted to know when I was headed back to the plains or just back to the guest house. “Two hours more. Then the buffalos will start coming back to this rock.” I hoped so. Jindu and his buffalos were a nuisance and I had secretly wished that the tiger would take them out one by one just the way predator had taken out Arnie’s team in the movie “Predator.”
“You always sit on this rock? Every day?” he was beginning to annoy me as the colours of the sky had started to change. The mountains were turning pink. Soon it was going to be dark.
“The rock has taken the character of my buttocks,” I smiled.
He laughed .
“You are very different from the rest of the villagers. The others treat me deferentially. Obsequiously. You don’t. Why is that?” had he realised I wasn’t one of them.
“Do the buffalos treat you different from the other men?” I asked him back portraying to be Jindu’s shepherd.
He shook his head.
“Then they know better than my fellow villagers,” I told him.
He laughed again. And I could tell he is really enjoying himself. I smiled wondering how much I had changed. I was being taken for an ordinary villager. I wondered if I stayed on for long enough would I become just like Jindu. Perhaps I would marry his daughter and live happily ever after, I didn’t want my life to end in that hill district or the village as this guy had termed it as. Where was the tiger? Wasn’t he hungry?
“You think a lot?” he asked me.
“There is nothing else here to do.” I answered trying to be polite. I wanted him to leave but as luck would have it he seemed to have all the time in the world at this point where the town came to an end and the so called tiger territory started.
He threw his cigarette as he understood, I wasn’t in a mood to make chit chat. He straightened his stick. As I fiddled on my empty packet for another cigarette, I realised I had run out of smokes. He understood and offered me one.
“Smoke this when you feel like relaxing,” he said. “By the way, the man-eater is in this area right now. I saw his fresh pugmarks on this very path just ahead of me. Probably he heard me coming and so wandered off in the direction your buffalos are. I went in the jungle tracing his pugmarks but lost the trail after sometime,” he looked at me seriously. I wondered if he was trying to pull my leg. I had been there for almost two hours and if any of those cows were not coming back, I wasn’t going back in to the jungle looking for them.
Then, before he started on his way again, he yelled, “Take care.”
Only I and the tiger have the ears to hear his footfall. alcohol if made your reflexes sluggish, it enhanced your power of hearing for sure. I was pretty definite I could hear god if I tried hard enough too.
What I had told him was true. There is nothing here to do except think. The silence in the afternoon was so thick that it pushes your thoughts up. Villagers who are Moslem tell me that Mohammed was a shepherd. And I think that the Jesus that the white man believes in was also a shepherd. I could understand. Only shepherds can form new religions. Their thoughts are precipitated by the silence of the afternoon. In a way it is silence that gives rise to new religions. I looked at the cigarette and decided to light it up. It was a heady combination of dope , tiger scare and the thought of becoming a spiritual guru. Pretty soon the snow would start to melt and the town would start to fill up with newlyweds who shall be fed with endless tales of the man eater, each man telling a different story of how it was captured , what role he had played in it or if it was still at large, how they should lock their rooms at night. There was still time a month or so perhaps and this man seemed to be promising.
I look to my left. The man was just on the verge of disappearing around the bend. His footmarks were clear in the loose soil. If the tiger could read the pugmarks, he could catch up with him. I wondered who was following whom as I got up to look at my watch. It was getting late. The buffalos should be on their way back. I wondered why I was suddenly getting worried about Jindu’s buffalos. They were after all his buffalos and if it weren’t for the dope, I would have definitely not been able to sleep at night.
A blue jay arrived on the tree in front and looked around for insects. It made a few dives but came up with nothing in the beak. Then it started to shriek. Its mate replied from somewhere in the jungle. But something made me look to the left again. The man-eater has suddenly appeared there. It is walking unhurriedly. Then it too disappeared around the bend. Was I dreaming? I had just seen the ever elusive stripes and that too a man eater. Why he didn’t choose me as his afternoon snack, I wondered. Perhaps tiger just like any other predator smells for fear or a weapon. If unarmed he would not attack you just like the predator in the movie. Or perhaps he didn’t want to get doped and made a easy target. The rules of the game were simple. Eliminate the threat first, easy could wait.
There is no way that I could warn the hunter– the tiger was between me and him. And in any case, if his instinct was like that which made me look suddenly to the left, he would know of the tiger’s presence automatically. And even otherwise, I knew one thing – taught to me by nature, by the silence, by my long observations and by my thoughts. What happens happens. You can do zilch to change it.
I may as well enjoy that cigarette now. As I took a drag I heard a faint roar, then a gun fire. I saw the man walking back in a triumph; I knew the tiger was dead. I knew in the fleeting seconds that the tigers eyes had met mine, I knew it now, he had walked to his death sparing me .
The autopsy of the body revealed a broken hind leg that had become infected, that had led it to become a man eater. Perhaps the pain had become unbearable. Perhaps he had heard the conversation between the hunter and me. Perhaps he wanted to go out like the king of the jungle. Who knew ?
The man is walking carefully, his senses alert. But he was not slow. From the distance I could see that he was a foreigner, a Lat Sahib, because he wore faded green trousers with a faded grey shirt and his head is adorned by a hat. He had a stick in his hand which he is held above the ground that swayed with his walk. A gun slung across his shoulders. He is quite tall and slim.
I knew who he was. Not that I had met him or come across him previously. But I knew from what I had heard from others that he is the Lat Sahib who has been putting up in the neighbouring village for the past three weeks. He had come here to kill the man-eater. He was good at it too – had killed many so far. I thought he was good because tigers were attracted to him. So they gave him a chance to kill them.
In a way the man-eater had contributed to the silence. In the past three years, this tiger had killed and eaten more than two hundred people from the hills. From that particular town itself, it had killed nineteen people. The last that it took was a young girl who had gone with ten or so other women in the afternoon to collect fuel wood. While they were doing so, the tiger stalked them. It followed them, silent like death, creeping like death and then springing with the suddenness of death. The women knew about its presence only when it had already grabbed the girl by her throat and was dragging her away. The remaining women shouted and screamed and stampeded back to the village, while the girl remained silent because she had her throat in the tiger’s jaws. By the time the men were summoned and a few of them summoned their courage and a search party was formed, the tiger had already soused its hunger completely. So what they brought back was just a few bits of flesh and a few bones and her red coloured clothes. She was cremated right there in the village itself because everyone was terrified of venturing farther than that.
Because of the man-eater, people didn’t move much. Men did go to their fields and women did go to collect sticks and leaves and grass. Because if you stop all that you would die anyway. But everyone was on their guard and tense all the time. And no one spent more time than necessary outdoors. By four in the afternoon, the doors were closed and people were already inside as a ghostly hushing hung outside the doors and floated in the streets. Tigers mostly don’t stir in the afternoon. They begin moving only just before sundown. But this one was unpredictable. The last victim that it took, she was taken when the afternoon hadn’t even started blushing. So people stood indoors even in the afternoons unless they had to step out. Traffic between villages had come to a halt – close relatives didn’t visit even in marriage ceremonies. Celebrations were less while cremations were more. I however was not scared and wondered if the tiger was watching me at that instant.
Since people had almost stopped visiting nearby villages, the traffic on this path had dwindled. As it is, it used to be deserted almost all the time even otherwise. But now, even the one or two who would pass during any given day are gone. The silence here is complete. Shiv Shakti was the last resort before one would enter the tiger territory.
Not that afternoon needed any assistance for its silence. In fact the silence of the afternoon was deeper than the silence of the night. Most people thought that it is the night that spreads more silence. But they couple the absence of light with the silence and reach their conclusions. Silence in the afternoon is deeper even with the light being harsh. In the night the tiger, the leopard the jackals hunt. It is the howls of the hyenas that make the night silence eerie. The bears are constantly on the move searching for food and their grunts and other sounds carry in the night. The hunted give alarm calls and run. Only the birds sleep. In the afternoon, all take shelter from the sun and conserve energy. Even the birds that filled the very air with their songs go silent. The only birds that seem unaffected are the crow, the woodpecker, the drongo, the blue jay, the bee eater and the egret.
The man was near my rock now. If my ears were not sharp, I wouldn’t have heard him. He was slowing down, looking at me. So I knew that he would stop and talk to me.
“Keeping a watch on the cows?” he asked.
“Buffalos,” I told him. He was sun burnt and very handsome. And he knew a bit of the local our language.
“Uh…huh,” he says. He took out a packet of cigarettes. I took out my packet as he lit up a cigarette. He looked at me disdainfully but didn’t comment.
“Got to keep alert.” He said “The buffalos went that way. ”
I looked at him. He knew very well which side Jindu buffalos must have wanders. Behind me were the hills and the temple atop it. It is a completely rocky terrain and buffalos won’t go up there because there was no grass. In front of me was the dense jungle that had enticed me so often but the stories of the tiger had kept me away. An odd tinkling or two of their bells is still audible from that side. But I knew why he is asking the question. When two strangers meet, inanities are the perfect tool to dissolve the initial awkwardness. I indicated which way they had wandered with a nod of my head.
“How long have you been a shepherd?” he asked me. “Idiot, thinks I am a shepherd.” I thought as I looked at him with a strange look but decided to play the game. I was feeling heady and didn’t want to tell him why I was here in the mountains or what I was searching. The fact was I knew that the tiger wasn’t going to harm me. My time hadn’t come and yet I wasn’t willing to take the risk of walking across the path and go that water fall that had lured me so many times before.
“The buffalos started knowing me from the time I was a child,” I lied.
He takes a good look at me now. “How long will you be here?” he asked.
I look at the shadows wondering if he wanted to know when I was headed back to the plains or just back to the guest house. “Two hours more. Then the buffalos will start coming back to this rock.” I hoped so. Jindu and his buffalos were a nuisance and I had secretly wished that the tiger would take them out one by one just the way predator had taken out Arnie’s team in the movie “Predator.”
“You always sit on this rock? Every day?” he was beginning to annoy me as the colours of the sky had started to change. The mountains were turning pink. Soon it was going to be dark.
“The rock has taken the character of my buttocks,” I smiled.
He laughed .
“You are very different from the rest of the villagers. The others treat me deferentially. Obsequiously. You don’t. Why is that?” had he realised I wasn’t one of them.
“Do the buffalos treat you different from the other men?” I asked him back portraying to be Jindu’s shepherd.
He shook his head.
“Then they know better than my fellow villagers,” I told him.
He laughed again. And I could tell he is really enjoying himself. I smiled wondering how much I had changed. I was being taken for an ordinary villager. I wondered if I stayed on for long enough would I become just like Jindu. Perhaps I would marry his daughter and live happily ever after, I didn’t want my life to end in that hill district or the village as this guy had termed it as. Where was the tiger? Wasn’t he hungry?
“You think a lot?” he asked me.
“There is nothing else here to do.” I answered trying to be polite. I wanted him to leave but as luck would have it he seemed to have all the time in the world at this point where the town came to an end and the so called tiger territory started.
He threw his cigarette as he understood, I wasn’t in a mood to make chit chat. He straightened his stick. As I fiddled on my empty packet for another cigarette, I realised I had run out of smokes. He understood and offered me one.
“Smoke this when you feel like relaxing,” he said. “By the way, the man-eater is in this area right now. I saw his fresh pugmarks on this very path just ahead of me. Probably he heard me coming and so wandered off in the direction your buffalos are. I went in the jungle tracing his pugmarks but lost the trail after sometime,” he looked at me seriously. I wondered if he was trying to pull my leg. I had been there for almost two hours and if any of those cows were not coming back, I wasn’t going back in to the jungle looking for them.
Then, before he started on his way again, he yelled, “Take care.”
Only I and the tiger have the ears to hear his footfall. alcohol if made your reflexes sluggish, it enhanced your power of hearing for sure. I was pretty definite I could hear god if I tried hard enough too.
What I had told him was true. There is nothing here to do except think. The silence in the afternoon was so thick that it pushes your thoughts up. Villagers who are Moslem tell me that Mohammed was a shepherd. And I think that the Jesus that the white man believes in was also a shepherd. I could understand. Only shepherds can form new religions. Their thoughts are precipitated by the silence of the afternoon. In a way it is silence that gives rise to new religions. I looked at the cigarette and decided to light it up. It was a heady combination of dope , tiger scare and the thought of becoming a spiritual guru. Pretty soon the snow would start to melt and the town would start to fill up with newlyweds who shall be fed with endless tales of the man eater, each man telling a different story of how it was captured , what role he had played in it or if it was still at large, how they should lock their rooms at night. There was still time a month or so perhaps and this man seemed to be promising.
I look to my left. The man was just on the verge of disappearing around the bend. His footmarks were clear in the loose soil. If the tiger could read the pugmarks, he could catch up with him. I wondered who was following whom as I got up to look at my watch. It was getting late. The buffalos should be on their way back. I wondered why I was suddenly getting worried about Jindu’s buffalos. They were after all his buffalos and if it weren’t for the dope, I would have definitely not been able to sleep at night.
A blue jay arrived on the tree in front and looked around for insects. It made a few dives but came up with nothing in the beak. Then it started to shriek. Its mate replied from somewhere in the jungle. But something made me look to the left again. The man-eater has suddenly appeared there. It is walking unhurriedly. Then it too disappeared around the bend. Was I dreaming? I had just seen the ever elusive stripes and that too a man eater. Why he didn’t choose me as his afternoon snack, I wondered. Perhaps tiger just like any other predator smells for fear or a weapon. If unarmed he would not attack you just like the predator in the movie. Or perhaps he didn’t want to get doped and made a easy target. The rules of the game were simple. Eliminate the threat first, easy could wait.
There is no way that I could warn the hunter– the tiger was between me and him. And in any case, if his instinct was like that which made me look suddenly to the left, he would know of the tiger’s presence automatically. And even otherwise, I knew one thing – taught to me by nature, by the silence, by my long observations and by my thoughts. What happens happens. You can do zilch to change it.
I may as well enjoy that cigarette now. As I took a drag I heard a faint roar, then a gun fire. I saw the man walking back in a triumph; I knew the tiger was dead. I knew in the fleeting seconds that the tigers eyes had met mine, I knew it now, he had walked to his death sparing me .
The autopsy of the body revealed a broken hind leg that had become infected, that had led it to become a man eater. Perhaps the pain had become unbearable. Perhaps he had heard the conversation between the hunter and me. Perhaps he wanted to go out like the king of the jungle. Who knew ?
My Ghostly Encounter
.I fondly remember the days when I was a young kid, zooming around town on my new motorbike that I had got after much fighting and desperation. I had been in Nainital and the hills while always had fascinated me, never seemed to amaze me with their majestic appearance that made us humans look small.
Nainital is a small district in the hills of Uttaranchal in India and while the town was now a days flooded with tourists, whose sole aim was to make the crowded outlets more crowded, I on the other hand was obsessed with discovering the colourful grave yards that not only gave me a hint at the history of the place but also stood there as a remainder of the sad past our rulers aka the British had entailed while trying to rule a country obsessed with freedom and Mahatma Gandhi alike.
I would often go and sit in these graveyards, reading inscription on the graves that while, had stood the harsh weather, had failed to save their inhabitants from the careless grave robbers. More than once I would come across a skull or a bone that once belonged to a gora sahib who had once ruled the locals with a disdainful smile and an iron fist. Today it laid here remembering of the past glory as a spider scurried around its eye socket.
I had been visiting the grave of Colonel James Robert 51, RAF division and had died in 1896, close to hundred years earlier. I wondered often as I would look at the grave that was adorned with a sculpture of a beautiful angel that was supposed to protect him through the long journey in to heaven or hell. Colonel James unfortunately wasn’t a victim of some gunfight but had fallen to Cholera, one of the deadliest killers in the hills around the area. Cholera had survived even after hundred years, while more than ninety % of the graves in the grave yard were victims of the dreaded disease, it amazed me how cholera had won the accolades for its role in the freedom movement. It’s something like if people die in a natural disaster, it’s sad but if they die in a bomb attack, there are terrorist to blame it on.
The grave had been broken open. I had been writing to the local newspapers in regards to this, of course secretly. I didn’t want anyone to know about it as people would have found it weird, more over my trips to these beautiful graveyards would have ended, my parents branding me as a lunatic. I did believe they still thought so, but never admitted it. In a country where live people could not get justice, it was hard for the dead more so, their graves robbed by men guided by hunger and unemployment. These graves were often sources of medals made of precious metals that were earned after hard work. I wondered if anyone of the grave robbers ever wondered if there was an antique value attached to it. Those were the days when graves attracted me more than the living and while the silence was eerie, it proclaimed peace away from the maddening crowds that were taking over the city like a swarm of crickets demolishing a corn field.
I felt bad, because the colonel had been a silent friend till now and had heard to everything I had to tell him with patience, not that he could do anything about it, after all he was dead. I looked at his skull that lay near the shattered angel, who had been unable to protect the colonel last night as he was robbed of his medals and dignity alike. I picked up his skull and looked at my friend for the first time. The hollow eye sockets stared back at me. Was he pleased to see me? I carefully place the skull back in to the grave as I said a silent prayer, not for his peace but praying that he wouldn’t grab me and pull me back in to the grave with him while I kept the head down with the rest of the bones. Once the skull was carefully secured back in to the grave I pushed the top stone back in to place feeling sad for the colonel.
I stood back and looked at my handy work. The grave was secured and while the angel no longer was protecting the colonel, I had done my part in saving him from facing further indignity by dogs, hyenas and other predators that lurked in the dark alike. As I said a silent prayer, I saw a man approaching me. He was young and handsome, his tailor made suit draping his thin frame, he looked the part of a corporate lawyer. He swayed his umbrella as he walked towards me. As he came closer, I looked at him more closely. He was a Gora sahib. I wondered what he was doing in the graveyard. Perhaps he had come to pay his respect to his fore fathers or something. I had seen grandsons and granddaughters of rulers coming back not only in search of their history but also to pay respect to their graves. I smiled as he walked in to an audible distance.
“Hello” his accent was definitely British. “Hi” I replied as I looked at him wondering if he was real or a ghost. He seemed real but places sometimes make you see things and graveyards and ghosts go hand in hand. I looked at him closely. He wasn’t translucent or a floating. He was real for sure.
“Just visiting a friend” I said trying to hide my awkwardness. After all I was in a graveyard putting stones on a grave. He could have taken me for a grave robber. “It’s ok.” He said. He had noticed that I was feeling awkward. “so you live around the area?” I asked him trying to make a conversation.
“Yeah, just around the corner.” He pointed in to the direction he came from. I looked at the trail that disappeared in to the forest. “Someday I will go further” I made a mental note to myself.
“Nice to meet you, I am Sid” I introduced myself.
“Hi, I am James.” He said as he shook my hand. His hands were cold, but so were mine. It was cold and soon the sun would go down. I looked into the horizon and saw clouds frantically lining up as if in preparation of a drill.
“The weather might be bad pretty soon.” I looked at him.
“Yeah, bollocks. I was just headed for the city.” James said.
“I can drop you, where are you headed for?” I asked him.
“Boat house club” he said.
“Good lets go then” I didn’t want to spend any more time in the grave yard. It was getting weird by the minute, as fog started to spread in the grave yard. I knew when it was time to go. Fog was bad not because I would see ghosts but I always used to get headaches because of it. I kick started my bike and with James, I set out for the town. The city was crowded with revellers partying on the streets. We reached the club and James invited me for a drink. I was getting late.
“Some other time, I know where you live now.” I joked with him.
“Yeah, you do, don’t worry your secrets safe with me” he said as he turned around and disappeared in to the club.
I smiled. I had a new friend. I reached home and as usual got a scolding for staying out so late. Rules were rules and coming home late especially with exams looming over my head wasn’t something that pleased my parents.
I pulled up my blanket and thought of the day’s events. The graveyard and James.
“Your secrets safe with me” I felt a chill run down my spine. Only last week I had told the grave me darkest secret. My crush, my infatuation.
“Thanks colonel” I smiled as I dreamed of my secret.
The trail that James had told me ended in to a cliff and there was no James registered as a member of the club. The colonel had found a way to thank me for making him at peace once again. I smiled to have met someone after hundred years, only if I had known and asked him more about life in his era. After all he had seen it all first hand.
Nainital is a small district in the hills of Uttaranchal in India and while the town was now a days flooded with tourists, whose sole aim was to make the crowded outlets more crowded, I on the other hand was obsessed with discovering the colourful grave yards that not only gave me a hint at the history of the place but also stood there as a remainder of the sad past our rulers aka the British had entailed while trying to rule a country obsessed with freedom and Mahatma Gandhi alike.
I would often go and sit in these graveyards, reading inscription on the graves that while, had stood the harsh weather, had failed to save their inhabitants from the careless grave robbers. More than once I would come across a skull or a bone that once belonged to a gora sahib who had once ruled the locals with a disdainful smile and an iron fist. Today it laid here remembering of the past glory as a spider scurried around its eye socket.
I had been visiting the grave of Colonel James Robert 51, RAF division and had died in 1896, close to hundred years earlier. I wondered often as I would look at the grave that was adorned with a sculpture of a beautiful angel that was supposed to protect him through the long journey in to heaven or hell. Colonel James unfortunately wasn’t a victim of some gunfight but had fallen to Cholera, one of the deadliest killers in the hills around the area. Cholera had survived even after hundred years, while more than ninety % of the graves in the grave yard were victims of the dreaded disease, it amazed me how cholera had won the accolades for its role in the freedom movement. It’s something like if people die in a natural disaster, it’s sad but if they die in a bomb attack, there are terrorist to blame it on.
The grave had been broken open. I had been writing to the local newspapers in regards to this, of course secretly. I didn’t want anyone to know about it as people would have found it weird, more over my trips to these beautiful graveyards would have ended, my parents branding me as a lunatic. I did believe they still thought so, but never admitted it. In a country where live people could not get justice, it was hard for the dead more so, their graves robbed by men guided by hunger and unemployment. These graves were often sources of medals made of precious metals that were earned after hard work. I wondered if anyone of the grave robbers ever wondered if there was an antique value attached to it. Those were the days when graves attracted me more than the living and while the silence was eerie, it proclaimed peace away from the maddening crowds that were taking over the city like a swarm of crickets demolishing a corn field.
I felt bad, because the colonel had been a silent friend till now and had heard to everything I had to tell him with patience, not that he could do anything about it, after all he was dead. I looked at his skull that lay near the shattered angel, who had been unable to protect the colonel last night as he was robbed of his medals and dignity alike. I picked up his skull and looked at my friend for the first time. The hollow eye sockets stared back at me. Was he pleased to see me? I carefully place the skull back in to the grave as I said a silent prayer, not for his peace but praying that he wouldn’t grab me and pull me back in to the grave with him while I kept the head down with the rest of the bones. Once the skull was carefully secured back in to the grave I pushed the top stone back in to place feeling sad for the colonel.
I stood back and looked at my handy work. The grave was secured and while the angel no longer was protecting the colonel, I had done my part in saving him from facing further indignity by dogs, hyenas and other predators that lurked in the dark alike. As I said a silent prayer, I saw a man approaching me. He was young and handsome, his tailor made suit draping his thin frame, he looked the part of a corporate lawyer. He swayed his umbrella as he walked towards me. As he came closer, I looked at him more closely. He was a Gora sahib. I wondered what he was doing in the graveyard. Perhaps he had come to pay his respect to his fore fathers or something. I had seen grandsons and granddaughters of rulers coming back not only in search of their history but also to pay respect to their graves. I smiled as he walked in to an audible distance.
“Hello” his accent was definitely British. “Hi” I replied as I looked at him wondering if he was real or a ghost. He seemed real but places sometimes make you see things and graveyards and ghosts go hand in hand. I looked at him closely. He wasn’t translucent or a floating. He was real for sure.
“Just visiting a friend” I said trying to hide my awkwardness. After all I was in a graveyard putting stones on a grave. He could have taken me for a grave robber. “It’s ok.” He said. He had noticed that I was feeling awkward. “so you live around the area?” I asked him trying to make a conversation.
“Yeah, just around the corner.” He pointed in to the direction he came from. I looked at the trail that disappeared in to the forest. “Someday I will go further” I made a mental note to myself.
“Nice to meet you, I am Sid” I introduced myself.
“Hi, I am James.” He said as he shook my hand. His hands were cold, but so were mine. It was cold and soon the sun would go down. I looked into the horizon and saw clouds frantically lining up as if in preparation of a drill.
“The weather might be bad pretty soon.” I looked at him.
“Yeah, bollocks. I was just headed for the city.” James said.
“I can drop you, where are you headed for?” I asked him.
“Boat house club” he said.
“Good lets go then” I didn’t want to spend any more time in the grave yard. It was getting weird by the minute, as fog started to spread in the grave yard. I knew when it was time to go. Fog was bad not because I would see ghosts but I always used to get headaches because of it. I kick started my bike and with James, I set out for the town. The city was crowded with revellers partying on the streets. We reached the club and James invited me for a drink. I was getting late.
“Some other time, I know where you live now.” I joked with him.
“Yeah, you do, don’t worry your secrets safe with me” he said as he turned around and disappeared in to the club.
I smiled. I had a new friend. I reached home and as usual got a scolding for staying out so late. Rules were rules and coming home late especially with exams looming over my head wasn’t something that pleased my parents.
I pulled up my blanket and thought of the day’s events. The graveyard and James.
“Your secrets safe with me” I felt a chill run down my spine. Only last week I had told the grave me darkest secret. My crush, my infatuation.
“Thanks colonel” I smiled as I dreamed of my secret.
The trail that James had told me ended in to a cliff and there was no James registered as a member of the club. The colonel had found a way to thank me for making him at peace once again. I smiled to have met someone after hundred years, only if I had known and asked him more about life in his era. After all he had seen it all first hand.
Angels, Destiny and Me
“Man is a social animal.” As a school going kid I always used to start my essay writing with this sentence developing on the subject, the second paragraph onwards .during those days, little did I know what the sentence meant and how it was going to affect my life in the future.
It was the summers of 1999, the kargil war was on and I was living in Agra, a city famous for the Taj Mahal and leather tanneries alike. The temperature was soaring to 50 degree centigrade and the only comfort I had in my room was a fan that was on the mercy of the electricity board. Nights used to be filled with mosquitos that would swarm in to my room, if a window was left open and closing a window would not be an option due to heat that would come out of the floor that had baked in the hot summer sun throughout the day.
I used to live alone in a rental room that belonged to an old lady who had divided her house in to rooms, which she would let out to hoteliers. She would charge insane amounts and at eighty years of age, her obsession with money was something that made me wonder, how some people never stop even after losing all the relations in their lives. Since I was the only tenant living in her house those days and me without a job, I would spend the days finding ways how to keep the room cool. Often I would pour water on the floors, only to find it evaporated within a few minutes. Life just as was beginning had come to a standstill and I was alone.
The old lady was definitely short of eyesight as she would often bring me crap food, perhaps to have a chat with me or to share her loneliness with me. I definitely did not enjoy these interactions and would try to avoid her on some pretext or the other. Now I didn’t mind talking to her but the food she would bring used to be inedible, she forcing me to eat it while she was around. More than once I had found ants in the food and knew that she was short of eyesight. Off course at these times I would keep it aside, trying to be polite and telling her that I would have it later on.
I often wondered about her family. She had a son who was working for some MNC in a multinational company in Delhi. I often wondered why she didn’t go and stay with him. What if something happened to her in the middle of the night? The way I was, I wouldn’t come to know of it till her body started to rot in the room she used to live.
The thought would scare me and while I was catching on much of the action happening in Kargil through “India today”, I would read stories of valour and death of men who were my age. The first televised war had caught my attention and while names like Vikram Batra were becoming house hold names, I was in the process of losing my identity.
Once too often , I would see myself standing in front of the mirror talking to myself or God. Those were the days when talking aloud was becoming a way to keep myself entertained and the old lady would often peep out of window wondering whom I was talking too.
My conversations would often go around starting with “Why I have to go through this God?” The answers would only come in the form of “Wait” and I would wait . I had been living like this for almost three months and while these conversations with me had been becoming more intense, I often wondered if I was going to find an answer.
The old lady however would only be concerned about if I was going to stay on for another month or not, that I was without a job. I would often plead to god in regards to showing me a way and what was I supposed to do. Over time I have believed in my guiding angel more than hard work and it has always listened. Perhaps I was allocated one during those times of hardship and when I came close to God. It has never left me and whenever I am distressed or in need of a job, a miracle has occurred in my life. Something, someone has appeared out of nowhere and helped me out. That angel has taken many forms, many shapes and has guided me through tough times, through bad times but has never left me only to give me something better.
In the parallel universe where angels work in accordance to your destiny, perhaps destiny is nothing but your guiding angel. It shows you a way and makes you walk on that path for a certain period of time, while preparing you for something better. That evening while I looked up in the sky and had said “God give me a job!”, I had heard a voice call out “Is that you Fuckwit!” An old friend, now a manager at Pizza hut had called me from behind. The next day I had a job.
Over the years I have observed, that whenever I have let go of some thing or tried to make a decision, my guiding angel has become mad at me. It has a different way of telling me how I made a wrong decision as the time wasn’t right. Over the years, I have worked on some of the most beautiful locations in the world as an hotelier, my guiding Angel smiling. Over the years, my guiding angel has taken shape in the form of people who have helped me out, to get over hardships, guiding me, mentoring me.
And yet, after eleven years my destiny once again brought me to one of the most beautiful harbours in the world, because I solely remember the promise I made to God that day, as I had walked in to the setting sun, turning my face away from my angel. I am at peace with my destiny and my Angel
It was the summers of 1999, the kargil war was on and I was living in Agra, a city famous for the Taj Mahal and leather tanneries alike. The temperature was soaring to 50 degree centigrade and the only comfort I had in my room was a fan that was on the mercy of the electricity board. Nights used to be filled with mosquitos that would swarm in to my room, if a window was left open and closing a window would not be an option due to heat that would come out of the floor that had baked in the hot summer sun throughout the day.
I used to live alone in a rental room that belonged to an old lady who had divided her house in to rooms, which she would let out to hoteliers. She would charge insane amounts and at eighty years of age, her obsession with money was something that made me wonder, how some people never stop even after losing all the relations in their lives. Since I was the only tenant living in her house those days and me without a job, I would spend the days finding ways how to keep the room cool. Often I would pour water on the floors, only to find it evaporated within a few minutes. Life just as was beginning had come to a standstill and I was alone.
The old lady was definitely short of eyesight as she would often bring me crap food, perhaps to have a chat with me or to share her loneliness with me. I definitely did not enjoy these interactions and would try to avoid her on some pretext or the other. Now I didn’t mind talking to her but the food she would bring used to be inedible, she forcing me to eat it while she was around. More than once I had found ants in the food and knew that she was short of eyesight. Off course at these times I would keep it aside, trying to be polite and telling her that I would have it later on.
I often wondered about her family. She had a son who was working for some MNC in a multinational company in Delhi. I often wondered why she didn’t go and stay with him. What if something happened to her in the middle of the night? The way I was, I wouldn’t come to know of it till her body started to rot in the room she used to live.
The thought would scare me and while I was catching on much of the action happening in Kargil through “India today”, I would read stories of valour and death of men who were my age. The first televised war had caught my attention and while names like Vikram Batra were becoming house hold names, I was in the process of losing my identity.
Once too often , I would see myself standing in front of the mirror talking to myself or God. Those were the days when talking aloud was becoming a way to keep myself entertained and the old lady would often peep out of window wondering whom I was talking too.
My conversations would often go around starting with “Why I have to go through this God?” The answers would only come in the form of “Wait” and I would wait . I had been living like this for almost three months and while these conversations with me had been becoming more intense, I often wondered if I was going to find an answer.
The old lady however would only be concerned about if I was going to stay on for another month or not, that I was without a job. I would often plead to god in regards to showing me a way and what was I supposed to do. Over time I have believed in my guiding angel more than hard work and it has always listened. Perhaps I was allocated one during those times of hardship and when I came close to God. It has never left me and whenever I am distressed or in need of a job, a miracle has occurred in my life. Something, someone has appeared out of nowhere and helped me out. That angel has taken many forms, many shapes and has guided me through tough times, through bad times but has never left me only to give me something better.
In the parallel universe where angels work in accordance to your destiny, perhaps destiny is nothing but your guiding angel. It shows you a way and makes you walk on that path for a certain period of time, while preparing you for something better. That evening while I looked up in the sky and had said “God give me a job!”, I had heard a voice call out “Is that you Fuckwit!” An old friend, now a manager at Pizza hut had called me from behind. The next day I had a job.
Over the years I have observed, that whenever I have let go of some thing or tried to make a decision, my guiding angel has become mad at me. It has a different way of telling me how I made a wrong decision as the time wasn’t right. Over the years, I have worked on some of the most beautiful locations in the world as an hotelier, my guiding Angel smiling. Over the years, my guiding angel has taken shape in the form of people who have helped me out, to get over hardships, guiding me, mentoring me.
And yet, after eleven years my destiny once again brought me to one of the most beautiful harbours in the world, because I solely remember the promise I made to God that day, as I had walked in to the setting sun, turning my face away from my angel. I am at peace with my destiny and my Angel
The Little answer
Little did I know how life throws curve balls as I sat admiring the clouds that took various shapes as wind blew them away in to the horizon. Life had over all been a merry go around and the winds of change had started to appear once again in Mumbai. There was not much to do except look at the ever busy city, talk to oneself and wonder when the so called “Sade Satti” would end.
Now I am one of those sceptics who believe in destiny and angels. In fact in my last articles Angel, destiny and me, I did mention how angels work in accordance to our destiny. During those days however I wasn’t at peace with myself wondering how life was unfolding in front of me. When most of my friends were busy running the corporate rat race, here I was running in search of Nirvana. The backpacker bug had bitten me and while I was busy exploring India, I always wondered if I would ever be a success. Close friends would lend me money and I would be off to my next adventure sitting in cafes, writing stories about characters, drinking coffee and having a chat alike. Life was on the brink of collapsing and yet a glimmer of hope would tell me to look forward to the next day. It was those days when daily routines would range from a variety of activities ranging from spending time on the internet to catching a drink with my corporate friend after he would finish work.
Sterling used to be our favourite haunt and often we would catch on the latest late night shows and Hollywood blockbusters. Of course popcorn and cola never used to be on our menu as none of us were great fans of either and while a couple of smokes used to always on the agenda on those famous steps, philosophy would be discussed against watching girls. We were different. We were young and we were in search of something that was amiss. He wanted my life and I wanted his. I have known “D” for almost 12 years now and still remember how I had met him on the stairs of the catering college hostel. He had a habit of rolling his “R”, spoke American English, and was one of the coolest guys in hostel. We would often meet on weekends living in the same hostel, as we both moved in different groups and yet it was our passion for adventure and movies alike that would bring us together on weekends, when we would catch all the movies at sterling, hitchhiking our way from Dadar to CST.
After college we had lost touch and yet once again had met up when I had appeared at his door steps in Mumbai one fine morning. D had taken me in. I was on my way to live my dream job and Mumbai was a stopover and while I was gone once again, a few months later we were sitting at sterling steps discussing life. He was on his way to success with a telecom giant and I was in an early life crisis. D had been more than a friend and had loaned me a vast amount of money, over that period, no questions asked. He was there always, taking me or vice versa for our so called sterling meets . He often would land there directly from office and me setting off after a job search or day spent on the internet. Life was good and D was a pal.
Over the years , I have often gone away on my quests and while D had always wanted to live the vagabond life, I always dissuaded him in following suit. Being a vagabond in life, while might have taken me to the most amazing places and yet it hasn’t quenched that thirst or answered that age old question of “What is the aim of my life.” Of course moving from place to place has had taken its toll on my life and the back packing hasn’t really turned out the way I always thought it would be. Till now I had seen backpackers and had admired them how they would take a year off from work and travel, go back work a bit more and then again set out on a journey.
The question where did all the money come from was answered recently. Travelling unlike us Indians is different in the western world. It does not involve staying in fancy hotels and it definitely does not involve a search. It is just about being there, done that and having a good time with one’s friends. That’s about it. The whole spiritual quest does not involve travel or for that matter, sitting on a beach or in the hills thinking about life. It can be very well be done while lying in bed after a hard day’s work, being happy making 300 $ a day. What is spirituality? According to me and I do not say that I am a guru on the subject. It is nothing but a state of bliss. Where each morning we get up, feeling good about the morning, heading off to the job we love doing the most , where a challenge is something we look forward to and after a busy day or night at work, one feels happy for having achieved something physically or mentally. My experience on the island was an event where I learned this fact. It wasn’t about the search or quest. It wasn’t about loneliness and it definitely wasn’t about love. Some people find happiness in pursuit of love; others find it following a passion. For me I found out it was work. I have been fortunate enough to do something I love doing the most. So much so that I do not even care about what I am doing as long as it is what I love doing.
Over the time, I have realised how work has kept me happy and just like love, work acts as stimulant to activate those hormones, which makes one feel at bliss. Of course the catch here is always, why do you work?
When your answer is money, you definitely are in the wrong field of work. Sooner or later everyone realises it and there are very few human beings who have the courage to do so. However when you don’t even know what you want to do in life, the situation becomes tricky and it is at that time one needs to understand, quitting is not an option. It is then over trivial pursuits like pursuing love might be of some use. The whole idea behind this exercise is to find something that makes you what you are or perhaps a bit happier than what you were. It is when you realise what you want in life and are willing to begin afresh , from scratch only then shall you achieve what I long set in search off, the feeling of bliss or “Nirvana.”
Now I am one of those sceptics who believe in destiny and angels. In fact in my last articles Angel, destiny and me, I did mention how angels work in accordance to our destiny. During those days however I wasn’t at peace with myself wondering how life was unfolding in front of me. When most of my friends were busy running the corporate rat race, here I was running in search of Nirvana. The backpacker bug had bitten me and while I was busy exploring India, I always wondered if I would ever be a success. Close friends would lend me money and I would be off to my next adventure sitting in cafes, writing stories about characters, drinking coffee and having a chat alike. Life was on the brink of collapsing and yet a glimmer of hope would tell me to look forward to the next day. It was those days when daily routines would range from a variety of activities ranging from spending time on the internet to catching a drink with my corporate friend after he would finish work.
Sterling used to be our favourite haunt and often we would catch on the latest late night shows and Hollywood blockbusters. Of course popcorn and cola never used to be on our menu as none of us were great fans of either and while a couple of smokes used to always on the agenda on those famous steps, philosophy would be discussed against watching girls. We were different. We were young and we were in search of something that was amiss. He wanted my life and I wanted his. I have known “D” for almost 12 years now and still remember how I had met him on the stairs of the catering college hostel. He had a habit of rolling his “R”, spoke American English, and was one of the coolest guys in hostel. We would often meet on weekends living in the same hostel, as we both moved in different groups and yet it was our passion for adventure and movies alike that would bring us together on weekends, when we would catch all the movies at sterling, hitchhiking our way from Dadar to CST.
After college we had lost touch and yet once again had met up when I had appeared at his door steps in Mumbai one fine morning. D had taken me in. I was on my way to live my dream job and Mumbai was a stopover and while I was gone once again, a few months later we were sitting at sterling steps discussing life. He was on his way to success with a telecom giant and I was in an early life crisis. D had been more than a friend and had loaned me a vast amount of money, over that period, no questions asked. He was there always, taking me or vice versa for our so called sterling meets . He often would land there directly from office and me setting off after a job search or day spent on the internet. Life was good and D was a pal.
Over the years , I have often gone away on my quests and while D had always wanted to live the vagabond life, I always dissuaded him in following suit. Being a vagabond in life, while might have taken me to the most amazing places and yet it hasn’t quenched that thirst or answered that age old question of “What is the aim of my life.” Of course moving from place to place has had taken its toll on my life and the back packing hasn’t really turned out the way I always thought it would be. Till now I had seen backpackers and had admired them how they would take a year off from work and travel, go back work a bit more and then again set out on a journey.
The question where did all the money come from was answered recently. Travelling unlike us Indians is different in the western world. It does not involve staying in fancy hotels and it definitely does not involve a search. It is just about being there, done that and having a good time with one’s friends. That’s about it. The whole spiritual quest does not involve travel or for that matter, sitting on a beach or in the hills thinking about life. It can be very well be done while lying in bed after a hard day’s work, being happy making 300 $ a day. What is spirituality? According to me and I do not say that I am a guru on the subject. It is nothing but a state of bliss. Where each morning we get up, feeling good about the morning, heading off to the job we love doing the most , where a challenge is something we look forward to and after a busy day or night at work, one feels happy for having achieved something physically or mentally. My experience on the island was an event where I learned this fact. It wasn’t about the search or quest. It wasn’t about loneliness and it definitely wasn’t about love. Some people find happiness in pursuit of love; others find it following a passion. For me I found out it was work. I have been fortunate enough to do something I love doing the most. So much so that I do not even care about what I am doing as long as it is what I love doing.
Over the time, I have realised how work has kept me happy and just like love, work acts as stimulant to activate those hormones, which makes one feel at bliss. Of course the catch here is always, why do you work?
When your answer is money, you definitely are in the wrong field of work. Sooner or later everyone realises it and there are very few human beings who have the courage to do so. However when you don’t even know what you want to do in life, the situation becomes tricky and it is at that time one needs to understand, quitting is not an option. It is then over trivial pursuits like pursuing love might be of some use. The whole idea behind this exercise is to find something that makes you what you are or perhaps a bit happier than what you were. It is when you realise what you want in life and are willing to begin afresh , from scratch only then shall you achieve what I long set in search off, the feeling of bliss or “Nirvana.”
The Little answer
Little did I know how life throws curve balls as I sat admiring the clouds that took various shapes as wind blew them away in to the horizon. Life had over all been a merry go around and the winds of change had started to appear once again in Mumbai. There was not much to do except look at the ever busy city, talk to oneself and wonder when the so called “Sade Satti” would end.
Now I am one of those sceptics who believe in destiny and angels. In fact in my last articles Angel, destiny and me, I did mention how angels work in accordance to our destiny. During those days however I wasn’t at peace with myself wondering how life was unfolding in front of me. When most of my friends were busy running the corporate rat race, here I was running in search of Nirvana. The backpacker bug had bitten me and while I was busy exploring India, I always wondered if I would ever be a success. Close friends would lend me money and I would be off to my next adventure sitting in cafes, writing stories about characters, drinking coffee and having a chat alike. Life was on the brink of collapsing and yet a glimmer of hope would tell me to look forward to the next day. It was those days when daily routines would range from a variety of activities ranging from spending time on the internet to catching a drink with my corporate friend after he would finish work.
Sterling used to be our favourite haunt and often we would catch on the latest late night shows and Hollywood blockbusters. Of course popcorn and cola never used to be on our menu as none of us were great fans of either and while a couple of smokes used to always on the agenda on those famous steps, philosophy would be discussed against watching girls. We were different. We were young and we were in search of something that was amiss. He wanted my life and I wanted his. I have known “D” for almost 12 years now and still remember how I had met him on the stairs of the catering college hostel. He had a habit of rolling his “R”, spoke American English, and was one of the coolest guys in hostel. We would often meet on weekends living in the same hostel, as we both moved in different groups and yet it was our passion for adventure and movies alike that would bring us together on weekends, when we would catch all the movies at sterling, hitchhiking our way from Dadar to CST.
After college we had lost touch and yet once again had met up when I had appeared at his door steps in Mumbai one fine morning. D had taken me in. I was on my way to live my dream job and Mumbai was a stopover and while I was gone once again, a few months later we were sitting at sterling steps discussing life. He was on his way to success with a telecom giant and I was in an early life crisis. D had been more than a friend and had loaned me a vast amount of money, over that period, no questions asked. He was there always, taking me or vice versa for our so called sterling meets . He often would land there directly from office and me setting off after a job search or day spent on the internet. Life was good and D was a pal.
Over the years , I have often gone away on my quests and while D had always wanted to live the vagabond life, I always dissuaded him in following suit. Being a vagabond in life, while might have taken me to the most amazing places and yet it hasn’t quenched that thirst or answered that age old question of “What is the aim of my life.” Of course moving from place to place has had taken its toll on my life and the back packing hasn’t really turned out the way I always thought it would be. Till now I had seen backpackers and had admired them how they would take a year off from work and travel, go back work a bit more and then again set out on a journey.
The question where did all the money come from was answered recently. Travelling unlike us Indians is different in the western world. It does not involve staying in fancy hotels and it definitely does not involve a search. It is just about being there, done that and having a good time with one’s friends. That’s about it. The whole spiritual quest does not involve travel or for that matter, sitting on a beach or in the hills thinking about life. It can be very well be done while lying in bed after a hard day’s work, being happy making 300 $ a day. What is spirituality? According to me and I do not say that I am a guru on the subject. It is nothing but a state of bliss. Where each morning we get up, feeling good about the morning, heading off to the job we love doing the most , where a challenge is something we look forward to and after a busy day or night at work, one feels happy for having achieved something physically or mentally. My experience on the island was an event where I learned this fact. It wasn’t about the search or quest. It wasn’t about loneliness and it definitely wasn’t about love. Some people find happiness in pursuit of love; others find it following a passion. For me I found out it was work. I have been fortunate enough to do something I love doing the most. So much so that I do not even care about what I am doing as long as it is what I love doing.
Over the time, I have realised how work has kept me happy and just like love, work acts as stimulant to activate those hormones, which makes one feel at bliss. Of course the catch here is always, why do you work?
When your answer is money, you definitely are in the wrong field of work. Sooner or later everyone realises it and there are very few human beings who have the courage to do so. However when you don’t even know what you want to do in life, the situation becomes tricky and it is at that time one needs to understand, quitting is not an option. It is then over trivial pursuits like pursuing love might be of some use. The whole idea behind this exercise is to find something that makes you what you are or perhaps a bit happier than what you were. It is when you realise what you want in life and are willing to begin afresh , from scratch only then shall you achieve what I long set in search off, the feeling of bliss or “Nirvana.”
.
Now I am one of those sceptics who believe in destiny and angels. In fact in my last articles Angel, destiny and me, I did mention how angels work in accordance to our destiny. During those days however I wasn’t at peace with myself wondering how life was unfolding in front of me. When most of my friends were busy running the corporate rat race, here I was running in search of Nirvana. The backpacker bug had bitten me and while I was busy exploring India, I always wondered if I would ever be a success. Close friends would lend me money and I would be off to my next adventure sitting in cafes, writing stories about characters, drinking coffee and having a chat alike. Life was on the brink of collapsing and yet a glimmer of hope would tell me to look forward to the next day. It was those days when daily routines would range from a variety of activities ranging from spending time on the internet to catching a drink with my corporate friend after he would finish work.
Sterling used to be our favourite haunt and often we would catch on the latest late night shows and Hollywood blockbusters. Of course popcorn and cola never used to be on our menu as none of us were great fans of either and while a couple of smokes used to always on the agenda on those famous steps, philosophy would be discussed against watching girls. We were different. We were young and we were in search of something that was amiss. He wanted my life and I wanted his. I have known “D” for almost 12 years now and still remember how I had met him on the stairs of the catering college hostel. He had a habit of rolling his “R”, spoke American English, and was one of the coolest guys in hostel. We would often meet on weekends living in the same hostel, as we both moved in different groups and yet it was our passion for adventure and movies alike that would bring us together on weekends, when we would catch all the movies at sterling, hitchhiking our way from Dadar to CST.
After college we had lost touch and yet once again had met up when I had appeared at his door steps in Mumbai one fine morning. D had taken me in. I was on my way to live my dream job and Mumbai was a stopover and while I was gone once again, a few months later we were sitting at sterling steps discussing life. He was on his way to success with a telecom giant and I was in an early life crisis. D had been more than a friend and had loaned me a vast amount of money, over that period, no questions asked. He was there always, taking me or vice versa for our so called sterling meets . He often would land there directly from office and me setting off after a job search or day spent on the internet. Life was good and D was a pal.
Over the years , I have often gone away on my quests and while D had always wanted to live the vagabond life, I always dissuaded him in following suit. Being a vagabond in life, while might have taken me to the most amazing places and yet it hasn’t quenched that thirst or answered that age old question of “What is the aim of my life.” Of course moving from place to place has had taken its toll on my life and the back packing hasn’t really turned out the way I always thought it would be. Till now I had seen backpackers and had admired them how they would take a year off from work and travel, go back work a bit more and then again set out on a journey.
The question where did all the money come from was answered recently. Travelling unlike us Indians is different in the western world. It does not involve staying in fancy hotels and it definitely does not involve a search. It is just about being there, done that and having a good time with one’s friends. That’s about it. The whole spiritual quest does not involve travel or for that matter, sitting on a beach or in the hills thinking about life. It can be very well be done while lying in bed after a hard day’s work, being happy making 300 $ a day. What is spirituality? According to me and I do not say that I am a guru on the subject. It is nothing but a state of bliss. Where each morning we get up, feeling good about the morning, heading off to the job we love doing the most , where a challenge is something we look forward to and after a busy day or night at work, one feels happy for having achieved something physically or mentally. My experience on the island was an event where I learned this fact. It wasn’t about the search or quest. It wasn’t about loneliness and it definitely wasn’t about love. Some people find happiness in pursuit of love; others find it following a passion. For me I found out it was work. I have been fortunate enough to do something I love doing the most. So much so that I do not even care about what I am doing as long as it is what I love doing.
Over the time, I have realised how work has kept me happy and just like love, work acts as stimulant to activate those hormones, which makes one feel at bliss. Of course the catch here is always, why do you work?
When your answer is money, you definitely are in the wrong field of work. Sooner or later everyone realises it and there are very few human beings who have the courage to do so. However when you don’t even know what you want to do in life, the situation becomes tricky and it is at that time one needs to understand, quitting is not an option. It is then over trivial pursuits like pursuing love might be of some use. The whole idea behind this exercise is to find something that makes you what you are or perhaps a bit happier than what you were. It is when you realise what you want in life and are willing to begin afresh , from scratch only then shall you achieve what I long set in search off, the feeling of bliss or “Nirvana.”
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