I walk...

We all have our own ways of dealing with things. Some eat. Some pray. Some sing. Some love and some drink. Some talk while some cry. Some sleep and some fight. I walk.

I walk to escape problems and I walk to confront them. I walk to remember and i walk to forget. I walk when i am happy and I walk when I am lonely.
I walk and the road walks with me. We follow a steady rhythm. I walk for miles on end trying to clear my mind. I walk in silence and I walk to the sound of music to forget the noise in my head. I walk hoping that the thoughts in my head would follow the rhythm of my feet. I walk for miles on end and then somewhere along the way, my mind just wants to break into a run. To run through all shackles and to run through the wind.

And then the steady rhythm of the heart is accelerated as my feet pick up, like this is what they always wanted to do. And I run.

I run and all I feel is the Wind. Within me and around me.
The blood rushes through my veins and a new warmth surges through me breaking the cold walls that had held me back. I strain to hear the whispers from the wind amidst my pulse and the sound of my feet on the concrete. I listen and I keep running. My heart and my feet had started together but soon enough the synchrony is lost as my heart is racing away and my feet are still following the steady rhythm they started off with.

And then somewhere along the way there is a disconnect. My heart has gone way ahead of me. As I keep running, somewhere along the way, for a few brief moments, I and the road have become one. I can see no further than the next few steps. And all that remains of me is the wind in my chest and the fatigue in my legs.

I will stop soon but not before the walls of my lungs have gasped for every breath they have taken and my feet have labored for every step. I feel like I have been purified by fire and I feel like I am new all over again. I slow down as my heart and my feet catch up with their tales. They both have more to talk about and i feel like an intruder there. My mind soon hops into the conversation and we are all back in our elements. I feel at one with myself all over again. All of me in back together and moving to one constant rhythm. To the beat of my heart.

I am now at the happy place in my mind where i should always be. Where silence is welcomed as is noise. Where no problem is too big and no solution is too small. Where problems are welcomed as are solutions. I lose myself only to find myself all over again.

I walk to freedom.

Dreams of wanderlust.... :)

Every now and then, i snuggle up to some travelogues and dream of traveling the world. My list keeps growing but for now i have decided to make a small note of the places that i want to experience before hitting the bucket !!!

Machu Pichu
Masai Mara, Kenya
Ladakh
North-Eastern India
Lakshwadweep
Galapagos Islands
Venice




Fingers crossed... :)

Feeling lucky... :)

It has been raining for two days now. The heavens seem to be tired of battling gravity as the waters have been relentlessly. Dark clouds gather all around and somehow they reflect my state of mind. Not melancholic, but my mind is certainly in throes of fatigue. Tired to fight. It has come to accept certain things as they are almost like how the clouds let earth have its way. It is acceptance that has come with a long day's struggle.

As i saw the raindrops trickling down the walls, I decided to venture out for some air and some clarity. It was not raining, just a weak drizzle. But there was still a chillness in the air as a cold breeze danced around reveling in its freedom. I walked through the courtyard, glistening because of the daylong rain and I am wondering what to think about. Somehow an empty mind makes a lot of noise and I am happier with my mind flowing in one direction than scattering all over like the water from the fountain behind me. I hear the gushing sounds of water as it rushes to hit the ground below. The water sounds agitated as if in a hurry to get somewhere. As if by hurrying in the present, he would be able to change the future. I listen to his flow and strangely i feel calm. I smile. The sound of the water behind me has dulled the sounds in my head. Sounds of his anxiety have strangely calmed me and i stood there listening, i could suddenly feel the warmth of a blanket around me.

I see the sun peek out of the dark, ominous looking clouds. He is radiant and suddenly i feel the warmth of an embrace even as the cold winds surge along. I feel happy and peaceful. It feels like the sun came out only to give me a hug. It is irrational and too self involved but somewhere i was happy with that belief. I felt special as i stood there humming a song in my mind.

But in that warmth, i can feel your presence. I can feel your reassurance. Because just like the sun you too made me feel special today. Special beyond my realms of reasoning or explanation. Beyond my words and beyond my imagination. As you scrambled through your mind to come up with those words, I was grateful for your effort and i was happy for the change. Even as i see you take your first few steps with a push, i hope that you would walk the rest of way of your own desire. But i sure feel blessed today for having seen you take the first step... May it be the beginning of many more great things to come...

"vous souhaite un heureux voyage" :)

and thank you for the warm glow i have on a cloudy day ... :)

Lines that build a home...

Some say, nations are just lines that divide. They are nothing but accidents of fate. They break people of one kind into many. They say humanity is the only true reality and all others are just collective nouns that pull people apart. They say that nationalities breed stereotypes and parochialism and that we are all after all inhabitants of the same world.

Some say, a nation is the true identity of a people. It is what gave them life and love. It is what makes them who they are and teaches them all they know. They will fight for their nation no matter what the cost. They love their nation beyond reason and logic. For them, their nation is the holy land - a land to be venerated and revered, and to be protected from the evil eyes of the others. For them, the nation comes before its people and lives are a price you sometimes pay for the sake of your motherland.

In an alien land, I wonder where i stand.

I step out of the house, and i dont feel the same. There is a kinship missing with the place. A dialog I used to have back "home". I feel lost here as if constantly searching for something. For directions, for familiarity, for the sights and smells. My stride lacks the spring that a child has when he sees his mom across the street after school. I walk, wary and cautious, not because i should be afraid but because i feel like a trespasser. Its not that i am berated or ill treated. I am left to my own means here even as freedom acquires a new meaning. But I felt more at ease with all those shackles back "home" because it was where i had always been. I knew the land, the men and women, the birds and beasts. I knew the winds and climes. I knew the bricks and the bats, the hills and the valleys, the streets and the corners. There was a certain kinship with the land and all its people that is difficult to describe in words. There is a flutter in my heart when i see someone from my land. A connection that makes my heart want to reach out to the perfect stranger just because he comes from where I come.

But wasn't my nation just an accident ? An accident of fate, that determined where i was born and brought up ? Wouldn't i feel differently if I were born here and not back "home" ? Why do I feel offended when they point a finger at my country ? Its not that they are always wrong for many a times I have complained too. Its not that I dont see the flaws and the problems that plague us. But its different when you fight with your parents and when a stranger raises his voice at them, isn't it ? Is it the land that I care for or the people ? What is it that ties me to my "nation" ? Like the umbilical cord that nurtures the fetus, there is an invisible bond that tethers me, that gives me my sense of self and that gives me my life.

Yes, it also binds me to my stereotypes and makes my world view a little narrower but then it would be the same anywhere else. Wouldn't it ? I would be just as attached to another piece of land if only the cards of fate had played out differently ?

An accident of fate it is but what a wonderful accident ! It gives me a home to call my own and a place to hold onto. It saves me from being a nomad even as I travel the world because there is a place on my compass that i always look forward to. There is no other place that can truly feel like "home" but home itself.... and maybe that's why they call it a motherland...

Time and Perspectives....

Time and Perspectives.

Ever changing and yet ever present...
The two things that we are often racing against and the two things that are constantly chipping away at us.

While time zones change as move through the world, our perspectives change as we move through life. They are changing even as we are struggling to encompass our lives into them.

Is there an absolute measure of time ? When there is night in one part of the world, the sun is shining bright in another. Is there an absolute right in a perspective ? Things may seem completely different depending on where you are standing....

But then, don't we all stand by a benchmark? The presence of the sun dictates the day and the absence of it brings on the night. Aren't our viewpoints too like that ? In some ways, we all have an absolute standard of righteousness and morality. True, there are many a gray areas like the dusk and the dawn, but at least there is a sign post to look for.

Time and perspectives.
They mould our lives and they direct our actions. They break through our molds even as we struggle to keep them under control. They change us like nothing else can. They work on our minds and our bodies. They break us and they build us.

Its true that you can escape the warps of time and stay in one place and never move ahead. You can hold onto your views and never look at another. But that's not the truth my dear ! You truly see the world only when you see the many time zones and the many perspectives. You lead a life only when you can accept the truth that sometimes there is no absolute truth.

You need to be a "traveler" to see the world and to see life as it is. And you need to be a "traveler" to accept the world for what it is.

Matters of faith ?

You say, that you like me are a person of reason and logic. You say that you, like me, are a man/woman of science and that unbridled inquiry is your objective.

You say we share a lot in common but for one difference...
We are separated by a gulf somewhere in how we approach life.

You believe that our lives are controlled by a divine entity and that we are puppets on a string. You believe in faith and you live a life of religion. You have faith in the divine and the supernatural. You believe that someone is watching over you and that the world can be a better place through the lord himself. You believe in helping others as a means to reach the divine. You glorify the "one" with your words and songs. You aim to live a life by the code of the "one". You lead your life sheltered by that code even as your life is cloaked in the fabric of religion.

I, on the other hand, believe that life is but a series of coincidences and random events. I see our world riddled with randomness even as i struggle to find some semblance of meaning. I see constellations in the sky but i know they hold no pattern or deeper meaning. I guard myself against hope and blind faith. I battle with my beliefs and question my thoughts and prejudices. My faith, is on me. My faith, is on goodness and honesty but i am unable to reach out to the divine that you are holding onto. I try and live a life of reason and logic. Of hard work and sincerity. Of passion and joy. I believe that we make our world our way. I help others because I can and because it helps me. I moved out of the fold of religion a long time ago, in my search for the truth. I make my own codes and I live by them and even as I live by my rules, I let others live with theirs. You may think I am self centered, but I think my life is just centered around me.

After all, we cant live for someone and no one can live for us.

But is this gulf big enough ?
I see that despite my self-centeredness, I am able to respect your opinion and live with it as long as I am granted my freedom. You on the other hand, struggle to accept my spirit of inquiry despite your moral code and faith. You struggle to accept my questions and my answers.

I try to understand how reason gets blinded like this ? How do we all get entrapped by these rigid walls of religion and tradition ? How do we forget that "not believing" is just another choice some people can make as is "believing" ? Faith can't make us a better person. Religion is a code that scares people into submission. Can faith be so important ? Can religion unify us despite all other differences ?

We may be like the banks of a river, moving ahead in the same direction but never together. But we could still share our thoughts just like the waters between the river banks ?

I struggle to understand how faith becomes so important to a man who believes and so irrelevant to someone who doesn't.... If religion is meant to encourage harmony and tolerance, isn't it achieving the exact opposite now ?

Strangers in the night...

It was a gusty night and I was all alone even though I was surrounded by a crowd. Was I lost ? I knew something was wrong but my mind was not cooperating. It was staring at something beyond nothingness and I could feel nothing but a deep chill seeping down till my bones. I felt devoid of air, devoid of life, as if i had been stuffed into a freezer with no protection.

I needed a familiar face and I needed someone to hold on to. I needed someone to pull me out. But amidst all those people, i couldn't find a familiar soul. Someone to reach out to. They were strangers, chattering among themselves, unaware of my existence., unaware of my pain. I felt like I was the last person standing and yet i felt dead. And then from somewhere I felt a hand reaching out and holding mine. I could feel the warmth spreading through me. I could feel life coming back to me. I was no longer numb with fear and pain. I could suddenly feel pain. Tears rolled down even as my heart melted away. into nothingness. There were no words exchanged, just a glance, i think. But as those two hands held me, I knew things will be fine. I don't know whose hands they were but i know they gave me succor. I know they brought me back from the vast never ending emptiness. I was staring into. I could feel the air in my lungs and the blood in my veins. I was back and with that realization, I snapped out of it.

I opened my eyes only to find myself in my bed. It was just a dream ! But a dream that is etched in my memory. A dream that I vividly remember which is an unusual thing in itself. Even today when i see things going wrong, i can feel that warmth of those hands and that is the only thing that lets me carry on. I can feel the warmth and i can feel my heart as it started beating with renewed hope. But today reality clouds my perception. I cannot completely feel the intensity of that one moment. I don't feel the pain either. Just the feeling of life coming back. Just the feeling of having found someone to hold onto. I wish i could get that same feeling, just one more time. Sometimes, I wish i were dreaming still. Only to feel that warmth again. Only to hold those hands again. Only to see those eyes filled with understanding again.

Some moments are like that. They leave an imprint on your life, for a very long time to come.

Those deep brown eyes...

I see your little brown eyes staring at me through the bars and I try not to think of what they can see. I give you food and water and my silent words. I follow your life as I would follow mine. I have seen you grow up from that tiny helpless being to this scampering, fighting adult. Over the months, I have cared for you with all my might but then one day I know, it is going to be the time for your last night. For the day when you will be just another subject. Just another answer and just another number. I tell myself this over and over again but your eyes still pierce my shell.

I can see death as I stare into the mirror. I can feel the pain that you may never feel. I feel your heart racing in my hand and I feel my heart racing too. Out of fear and out of guilt. I try to keep you away from the truth through a veil of darkness but somewhere, deep down inside, I think you know.

I feel your soft skin as I hold you in my hand. I can see the future and I know I am the cause. I see your struggle against the inevitable. I know you sense the future and I know you don't like it. I try not to pain you, even as I do the unmentionable. They tell me you don't feel a thing and that you are now in a blissful sleep. I pinch and prod only to make sure they are right. They tell me I should be calm, for you can feel my pulse through my fingers and I hope that you can feel my pain too.

My pain at giving you pain. My regrets at letting them do it. But then they tell me, it is inevitable and that I should look at the bigger picture. That some people must suffer for the greater good of many. And that your death was inevitable, and this way I just learnt more through it. They tell me you've made a difference in your death. I rationalize my actions and I try to look at the bigger picture. I say to myself, I am only the means and the end is already pre-ordained. I say to myself though I find it hard to believe that your life is justified by the end because that's what you were meant to do.

And then, I wonder if I too am just another mode of inquiry. If my life too rests at someone's mercy ? And if I too am fighting the inevitable ? Am also just another pawn who is unable to see the bigger picture ? Am I struggling in vain for someone higher up is pulling my strings too? Am I also clothed in veil of darkness, a veil I am trying to break through.

Even as these thoughts haunt me, I know I have other things to take care of. And so I listen to them and shut my mind off. I get busy and my mind moves onto other matters, only to be reminded again when I find another you peeking through those doors and nibbling at my fingers.

For those who are wondering ....

Something to Laugh about... :)

Word Games - Alternate Meaning for Various Words

The Washington Post published a contest for readers in which they were asked to supply alternate meanings for various words.

The following were some of the winning entries:

Coffee (n.), a person who is coughed upon.

Flabbergasted (adj.), appalled over how much weight you have gained.

Abdicate (v.), to give up all hope of ever having a flat stomach.

Esplanade (v.), to attempt an explanation while drunk.

Willy-nilly (adj.), impotent

Negligent (adj.), describes a condition in which you absentmindedly answer the door in your nightie.

Lymph (v.), to walk with a lisp.

Gargoyle (n.), an olive-flavored mouthwash.

Flatulence (n.) the emergency vehicle that picks you up after you are run over by a steamroller.

Balderdash (n.), a rapidly receding hairline.

Testicle (n.), a humorous question on an exam.

Rectitude (n.), the formal, dignified demeanor assumed by a proctologist immediately before he examines you.

Oyster (n.), a person who sprinkles his conversation with Yiddish expressions.

Circumvent (n.), the opening in the front of boxer shorts.

Frisbeetarianism (n.), The belief that, when you die, your soul goes up on the roof and gets stuck there.

Pokemon (n), A Jamaican proctologist.

Meagre (adj), What an ogre calls him- or herself

Buccaneer(n), an awfully high price to pay for corn (Buck an ear)

Liabilities (n), the ability to lie

Semantics : Pranks conducted by young men studying for priesthood

Thanks are due to R and R for sharing these on facebook...

Some food for thought about food.... :)

As I sit here almost 8000 miles away from home, trying to pen down an article on request, there are many things that are flooding my mind. But since I have been asked to talk about food, I am going to try and restrict myself to it. I am not a connoisseur or a gastronome. I am a simple person who eats to live (and not the lives to eat kind) and who believes in cooking well to eat well. I have very few preferences in terms of food and as Phoebe once said, I can eat almost anything without a face (being brought up as a vegetarian does leave you a little disadvantaged in that one arena that faces become unappetizing…). I have also almost always had a very high threshold for taste and smell perceptions and that just means that I need a lot of salt to taste the saltiness, a lot of spice to taste the spiciness, a lot of sugar to get the sweetness, I am sure you get the drift by now which is that, I basically needed a lot of anything to sense it, one way or another. I was a survivor in some sense. Quite unlike the gourmet friends of mine, I could eat almost any food and not complain – be it the mess food or the food at some other unmentionable places (unmentionable because I am still not rich enough to spend money on libel cases, you see !).

My introduction to food as an art and an experience happened after my introduction to IISc and a few people (unmentionable now, because of privacy issues than the fear of libel) who surrounded me and who kept talking about the texture of food, the smells, the looks, the subtle tastes and a whole lot of such stuff which was completely unpalatable (pun intended) to someone like me. More often than not, I was left amazed at the sensory acuity of my friends… (one of them could actually smell food and tell if the salt was right.. !!! (Wowo… and at this point you should imagine me staring at her with my not so very well-known “jaw-dropping look”)

But that was the beginning and from that shaky beginning I have now evolved to see the very many pleasures of food. I have started to explore diverse cuisines and to note the finer points of the entire culinary expedition. I find it fascinating to now eat a morsel of food and to try and discern the components that built it… I mean, the spices, the herbs, the vegetables that went in… The subtle flavor of oregano or pepper, salt or mustard, basil or cumin, garlic or ginger etc etc…. I find it fascinating that people can actually do that !! I have also started noticing the kind of food that I like more than a few others, I have started paying attention to the texture of food, the amount of oil, the possible variations etc (the fact that I didn’t have a PhD on going to pay attention to did help enormously… truth be told). I assure you that it would have seemed like a lot of indulgence and vanity to me too perhaps a few years ago but now I can see the art and the craft underneath. I have started to appreciate the view of the connoisseurs. After all no pursuit can be trivial and while books interest me, food could interest someone else. And more often than not having food could kill you while not having a book will only upset you a little.

I also realize now that my unbridled spirit in dealing with ingredients was kind of kept in check by the fear that I could have others consuming (and perhaps commenting) on the fruits of my labor. A physical distance from such daunting responsibility and a solitary existence in distant lands, has now truly liberated me from the bonds of tradition and culinary shows. I now cook for myself knowing fully well that I will still love myself no matter how the food turns out and I experiment with gay abandon. I mix ingredients just because they appeal to me and I match recipes. The fact that I have to cook for myself has only opened up a new journey and I am loving it so far. Cooking can be therapeutic in some ways. Coming back from a crazy day at work with a disastrous experiments, pushy bosses and dumb colleagues, cooking can be a relaxing activity. One at least gets a good meal at the end of the day and the joy of creating something new is an added bonus. It is an experience that I treasure and look forward to. I am exploring a whole new world and as Mac Donald’s says it “I’m lovin it”.

But then through all these years, there has been one thing that has been a constant in my life – my sweet tooth (I didn’t lose it when I lost my milk teeth and grew the permanent set !!). While, I was quite unaffected by most food and not really choosy about what I put in my mouth (well, there is a child in me still ;)); there was one thing which really got me dreaming and drooling. Desserts!!! Oooo wonderful desserts!! Through the more physiological endorphin and dopamine release the desserts – cakes, pastries, cheese cakes, mousse, muffins, chocolates… have made many a rotten day feel better. I have often craved for some simple sugar and chocolate combination when things have been going far from good and my friends have pampered me through. From a cheese cake at amma’s to the ganashe tart at Freska’s to sometimes the Tiramisu at Miller’s, I have relished many a fine desserts. I have also realised that my weakness lies in the combination of a bitter-sweet taste of dark chocolate or coffee and sugar, like life as it is (well… I knew there was a philosopher in me all along). I love the chocolate melting in my mouth even as the nuts give me something to chew upon. I love the warmth of the molten chocolate as it seeps through the cold vanilla ice cream and I love the sweet mascarpone cheese even as the coffee soaked sponge cake crumbles in my mouth. If there were a heaven, I would say that I have seen glimpses of it and I am very happy with it too… J

But then, here lies the challenge for the future, through my culinary explorations, I have still not ventured into the land of desserts, simply because it sounds like a sacrilege to me!!! But one day I do hope to make a leap of faith and try my hand at some of these bits of heaven accessible to ordinary mortals like us… Till then I console myself saying that there should be something in man’s reach but just out of his grasp. After all it gives us something to look forward to. So as I prepare myself for my giant leap (sometime in the future) I continue to dabble with smells, textures, colors and tastes as I explore the world of culinary perfection though my own humble means.

As a sincere advice, I would say “the devil lies in the details” and one must watch out for what one puts into their mouth… it is a rewarding experience…

Happy eating and happier cooking to you all !!