Connecting the dots

You can't connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards

Credits-highway12ventures.com

In the grand scheme of things, man, perhaps an insignificant speck of the universe, crusades with the force of a lone ranger against the travesties of fate, the constrained contours of his world and mind. If life were a game of chess, man oblivious to the greater designs in store, plans his course of action till the last move. However, in retrospect he often realizes that the Invisible Hand guided his soul in his stratagem. Countless experiences and remarkable reminiscences bequeath humans with poignant embrace of self-reflection and even an entropic evolution. With this background, we begin the narrative of the trilogy of a pauper-prince- priest. 

From the forsaken lands, in a deep veil of consummate innocence, a young cowherd boy was tending his cattle in the lush green outfields of the northern turfs, oblivious to the fractious contentions over lust for power, wealth and material riches that threatened the fragile peace of his nation. It was a time when bloodshed was pervasive in the royal families given the greed for command and it had further divided the states, making the nation intricately vulnerable to foreign invasions. A time had come when someone had to take an oath of unswerving loyalty to the people, and expunge the State from individuals in the higher echelons of authority who had become hostages to avarice. A learned brahmin priest, better known by the name of Kautilya took an oath upon himself to restore Akhanda Bharat. Perhaps, his oath was based upon the depth of his conditioned knowledge for the betterment of entire populace, and it was just too intense to be rather dismissed on feeble grounds of seeking singular vengeance against the Nanda dynasty. As fate would have it, an insignificant actor in the annals of history - the young cowherd, was the chosen savior of Magadh by Kautila. Kautilya adopted him like his own son, trained him in scriptures, war-craft and the essence of philosophy.

Unaware of his future prospects, the young boy was made to work through an arduous schedule. Never before in his life had he, known the alphabets of Pali or felt the grip of the hilt or learned the philosophy of mankind or seen a life beyond cattle and livestock. Food imbibed with small doses of poison was served to Chandragupta without his knowledge to make him immune to any similar effort at regicide. A serene and blissful life of a cowherd, deeply unconnected to the gross manifestations of politics and ascendancy was the sole repertoire of the innocent cowherd. Yet, he had to summon his will and courage to undergo the teachings of his master, leaving behind elements of his self-defined future. 

Shortly after completing his training, Chandragupta witnessed the legendary prowess of the mighty Macedonian army of Alexander the Great.  On the advice of Kautilya, he had to serve the Macedonian army to learn the ways of strategically superior battle units and along with it, he had to fine tune his own proficiency as a warrior. Consequently, he had to raise an army which was composed of both light and efficient battle units to fight in all kinds of terrain. During this period he had some level of ambiguity in the both the effectiveness and the consequentiality of his preparation.

After a period of intense conquests, Chandragupta stopped his expansion and focused on consolidation and development of his empire. He had made his empire huge and given it a great system of governance; now that he had all the land he wanted he settled down to focus on these domestic matters. Later during his reign Chandragupta came across a Jain sage named Bhadrabahu and converted to Jainism, renouncing his throne in favour of his son Bindusara.

Now the pauper-prince-priest trilogy resurfaces. In this brief narrative, Chandragupta as a boy was unaware of what future held for him while undergoing severities under the tutelage of Kautilya. Even as a pauper he had to let go of certainty to trade with a much austere and grueling phase. Only when he was fighting the battles, he was able to realize the hardships of training as a warrior and serving in the Macedonian army. The Macedonian experience fortified his battle-unit strategies for winning the internal wars with a light yet strong army. When he became the King, in his princely life he appreciated the value of the education he had received, which was apparently impractical for a warrior. Kautilya had foreseen that but for Chandragupta it was more like connecting the dots. Finally when in the quest for higher knowledge, he renounced the princely life for a simple yet intense priestly life, he appreciated the value of scriptures and the teachings of spiritual stalwarts. 

Caprice and Collusion

Myriad delusions of caprice in a mortal's fabric of thoughts, more often than not, ensue quite a preemptive genre of inveteracy. Theories of devolution along with axioms of evolution, strike each other with an otherwise majestic potency, which is often too innate and perhaps even more incapable of rationalization. To the third eye, it might preserve a level of bizarre persistence, but to astrally insignificant one, its promises yet another inconsequential stride. Desires of malevolence with a precise level of benign thoughtlessness at times, constitute the nascent stage for an appetite for aberration. Thoughtfulness most certainly comes at a price, though abhorrence at times becomes priceless. And this is precisely where, the impact occurs. 

Akin to an antediluvian architectural elegance, the baroque framework of thoughts seem unprecedented.  A pandemonium of adversarial notions seem to populate the unusual vacuum in the speculative image of self. Benign or vitriolic, the attributive mechanism bestows a psychic realm. The cadence of notions often remits a transformational behavioral bug, perhaps even construed as whim. Neither does it have a beginning, nor does it have an end. Perhaps in it's pristine state it defies any interdependence with matter itself. The latency of a nascent state of emotional imbalance cannot have any other attribution rather than to itself. Creating, destroying and manifesting in variegated stripes of the rainbow, dissimulates with recurrence forestalling any certainty.

Impulse in other words serves as the pseudo-romantic force behind all creation, destruction and manifestation. Whether backed by light or darkness, coercion or persuasion, benevolence or malevolence, it's invocation remains largely unresponsive towards the nature of the force, unless countered by a force greater than itself. Disparate elements persistently ascribe towards theoretical expurgation with motive change of the nature of force-fields. Relativity seems to be the nature of the law of being itself, driving us crazy and our masters even crazier. Chaos seems to be one of the fragments of the puzzle with a feeble yet certain allusion to tranquility.

bLIP

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Drizzling rains and stonewashed skies can most certainly tempt the liberals to the beat. And yes, that could perhaps go on till the end of eternity. But a certain sense of perpetuity could bequeath the randomers with a shrill and poisonous embrace. Incessant milieu subject to quotidian analogy could suffocate the very fragments of air that powers the lungs, often till a sense of conclusive mortality. A blip is often decried as a trouble-spot or an unwelcome shift from the norms, but still amazing are the consequences its mere absence could entail. Sometimes a bastion of ever new joy and sometimes to the envy of intellectual pygmies. Paroxysms covetously fission the mental manifestation of self  whereas detachment sustains it. Humans as a matter of fact strive for eternity to attain a balance between the two, with some inherent mental inclinations. Yet fleeting ones always somehow accomplish an exodus, be it in the realm of physical or the metaphysical. Initially, as kids some are quite infected with the existence of an El Dorado, sometimes not because of its surreal abundance, rather because of its conceived absence of any further desires. Everything you want is everything you get. Seems so even and blissful, but it harbors one draconian devil of multiple paradoxes. Firstly, what if there are negating feelings, each for its own selfish arousal. Secondly, its likeness with dogs chasing cars, for the dog would not know what to do if it actually ends up catching one. What would someone want then! Rarely a mortal knows what it needs, it only conditions its wants. Numbly feeling oneself devoid of any guilt as such, though with a feeble endeavor to experience some contrasts, turns exceedingly egregious past the limits. May be it's innate in the causal nature of self-preservation, often ascribed to vanity. 

Utopian Entropy

Taken at Kolkata

Taken at Kolkata

Taken at Cuttack, Orissa

Taken at Pantwadi, Mussorrie

Taken at Pantwadi, Mussorrie

A few clicks

Wonder Years

Awesome Little Devils

These were the days when, ceaseless dreams could manifest every cloudy moment of our lives. Perhaps it’s a kind of reminiscence which we can so ill afford these days. These scenes started invariably in the classroom after usual morning prayer sessions and dissolved with the eventual bong of the school bell, a familiar feeling which still carries on itself, with after-marks of the rush and rumpus, and ever sizzling in our minds. Audio cassettes (both pirated and genuine ones) used to rule our musical temptations in a way maggi had reigned our appetites or rather non-appetite for the usual cuisines. Days were kind of marked with conceited collection of trump-cards, magnetic-stickers of cricket players and comic-book heroes, which came wrapped with bubble-gums. Sometimes, we were able to find the card only after chewing the gum and it was eventually wrapped in gum spittle to our utter joy of discovery. He-Man and Complan pumped us with powers both figmental and futile. We used to kind of discuss the travails of superheroes at great lengths and contest on the most powerful ones (which would usually be each of our favourite one namely, Styro-Dhruv and himself, Shirin-Superman, Gamma-Nagraj, Shelly-Powerpuff Girls and Sigma- Doga). Selection and decision making systems for these contests were basically electoral and the majority usually won easily, discounting any sort of logical reasoning. 

                To make a drift towards our superheroes who made the morning sun dazzle bright although sans any discernable super-powers, these were Sigma, Shelly, Gamma, Shilin and Styro. Usually Shelly, Shirin, Gamma and Styro used to finish well within the top ranks while Sigma took care of the bottom five. Shelly and Styro aspired to be doctors while the rest were clueless about their ambitions with the except the likes of Sigma who wanted to replace Sachin in the Indian eleven. Sadly, he ended up replacing some unfortunate female of the States and works in a call-center these days. Gamma topped in either academics or in body fat content. He never could quite achieve both the things at the same time. Though he was a bit of animal lover, he habitually doted on chicken and mutton. Styro was armed with a much young looking birth certificate and he occasionally ended up messing with his own year of birth. Shilin kind of hated everything equally but his love for the language never died. Though he could never replace Gamma in either academics or corpulence, both of them enjoyed beating the hell out of Styro every moment. Shelly was one focused female who was genuinely worried about the explosions preceding sun’s white dwarf formation which was perhaps some billion years away, given it could easily gulp away our planet.What will we do then!!

                              Shilin used to idolize Rahul Dravid while Gamma revered Shane Warne (both his bowling and scams), when neither of them knew anything about real cricket. Yet they could endlessly go on debating about proper seam positions and cover-drives just to sink Styro. Vanity seemed to have developed its inadvertent roots in consumable popularity. The only ones who really played cricket were Sigma and Styro. Styro and Gamma also used to worship Nagraj and Dhruv in their attics. With zillions of comic-books they were a kind of Sith-lords for comic-book lending. Shilin had a bunch of Asterix-Obelix comic-books which neither he nor anybody else wanted in exchange. Time went on till these kids could evolve into boys and girls and the gross sins of the universe could then start materializing. Gamma had a heavy incessant laughing sequence which usually landed up the whole neighbourhood in trouble. His boisterous laughs used to portend some unusual punishments by the teachers. Most of his preys were recently transferred fellow students and certain perennial Jackasses. Sigma gradually perfected the art of conditioning anonymous calls to neighborhood girls. He used to be called the Pana-phoner. Shilin and Gamma tried to learn the trade of lying while Styro could perfect the gospel of illusion in the meantime. Hailed as Faadu-Samrat, he once recalled an anecdote of a smallish purple dinosaur coming out of an lunchbox sized UFO, which had landed in a dirty puddle in his locality, post midnight. And then again on the following day, he saved a cute puppy from drowning in quicksand, inside the same holy puddle. There is also a self-proclaimed true account of Styro of how he had hooked a cricket ball to hit a flying airplane, in a place called Dolumundai, Cuttack. Perhaps, Shelly was the only one who could keep her grace, modesty and exuberance intact over the years. And the only one to notice it at that instant was Styro, thanks to his young birth certificate.  No doubt Styro was unusually versatile in painting, singing, academics, fabricating incredible anecdotes and cricket, but unidirectional laws of attraction seemed to tether his other flairs. Emotions seemed to drool over time while the others found it quite entertaining. Gamma and Shilin were kind of anxious, while Sigma was confused as ever. Confusion and frustration led to permanence of a perpendicular hair style of Sigma which later led to his comparison with another magnificent being better known by the name of porcupine.Then there was a certain Lambda who was equally gifted in both corpulence and mawkishness. Emotions were kind of utterly-butterly reserved for only the fairer ones and an inception of any kind of attachment took him only an exchange of a few words. The prettier ones were in their comfort zone till they had divulged their telephone numbers (fixed land lines in those days). Then the King-kong of torrential emotions would let himself loose. He gradually developed one odd habit of repeatedly getting himself bereft of mobile numbers of his dreamy muses, and getting them back from his connects. If you are one of the fairer ones and you happen to be reading this, may God save you from him! The anecdotes could go on and on, but its better to keep some things under wraps, at-least for a while.
                                                  Meanwhile Styro, Shilin and Gamma were able to make seminal discoveries in the cyber world, all as a part of growing up. They made significant inroads in to the world of curses and offbeat movies. Once upon a time, Sigma once got caught red-mouthed while trying to be an anonymous entertainer of a pretty girl over telephone and he was promptly nicknamed by her as CDA Jhinka- the local equivalent of a porcupine. It was later learnt that someone had purposefully leaked Sigma's identity to that very girl,earlier that day, as she was supposed to be one of his first true loves. Days were closing in till Styro could make his existence matter with Shelly. Perhaps there were feeble incipient signals from the other end too. He discussed this matter at great lengths with his prime advisers namely Shirin, Gamma and Sigma, who unanimously advised him to blindly forge ahead. Sigma also fancied his chances post-rejection. As, this was the concluding year at school and they really wanted to have some serious amusement. Styro had to face an instant rejection serving to the delight and expectations of his usual audience. Strangely enough someone had said that though we cannot change the cards we are dealt, but we can change just how we play the hand. And a few years later, he got back his lady luck. Styro at that time had also helped develop what is popularly known as Clove Theory, the story of lost keys after an immediate exposure to a scientific journal with seriously inappropriate content. One time, Gamma was caught abetting one felony which involved guarding a promising wanton love schedule of a person known by the holy name of Ved. Unfortunately, Ved's activities were at the other extreme and this was the not the first time he was caught red-handed publicly, thanks to his dear paramours. Ved had incidentally promised Gamma of some settlement to be done with that girl, asking him not to allow anyone else to enter the classroom. The settlement ended up in complete notoriety with the blissful ignorance of innocent Gamma.  After that Gamma got baptized as The Jaguali, the colloquial for a watchman. Sigma later had a perky disappointment with a Perk bar he had chosen to gift someone with the name of Seona. He painfully gnawed eight perks after that incident took place.  A few months later, Shirin tried a vain proposition with one Maroon and had to face a miserable rejection. He never could quite recover after that. Gamma and Shirin were content with their lives at that point of time, much to their agonies later.They later became needless replacements for American automation system and were rechristened as software consultants. Shelly completed her dream of serving the society as a doctor along with the Styro. Sigma incidentally made his mark in the world of anonymous call-reception, popularly known by the name of business process outsourcing. Living their lives after being separated by vast geographical distances, they still exist inside one another heart, as pieces of poetic nostalgia. Had mobile telephony not been invented, they would have found it a little difficult, living those mellifluous memories again and again. Perhaps there is a Sigma, Shelly, Gamma, Shilin and Styro living in each one of us who tries to connect to the other.

Momentary glimpses of the past still foreshadow what future holds for each one of these. Still these characters continue to live in the present, at least in the happy framework of mind and ever transient dreams. Cheers!!

Disclaimer

All characters appearing in this post are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Mumbai Diaries-I

The joining location was mentioned as Mumbai in my internship letter and incidentally it was the first time ever, I would grace this city inhabited by our fellow earthlings with my exalted presence. However, somehow the very thought of spending sixty days in the least economic city of the country started giving me goose bumps. Apprehensive of a should-be-more stipend, plummeting bank balance ever since I began my so called pursuit of higher education and an ongoing (still wonder whether it’s ever historical) inflation (whatever it is, the end result makes us consumers poorer and the sellers richer and that’s exactly where they get their BMWs and iphones from), second thoughts of balking it altogether and doing some phoney summers at my hometown seemed a lot more appealing. Thoughts of having home cooked food seemed to manifest as countless delectable dishes right at my study table. Futility of a weak-will against biryani converted into a call to the concerned human resources executive. 

                                   Globalization seems to have bestowed certain inadvertent benefits on both employment and employability. Projecting clerical and routine tasks as momentous ones created executive out of mere clerks and supervising those without even the faintest idea of what it entails, created managers (of course this is what we are supposed to do). This surely means more jobs (however redundant) for the same quantum of work and perhaps even menial quality.  But it does not necessitate dividing the same piece of pie; it’s more like making additional figmental pie out of thin air (note that the marginal cost of producing it is zero) while promising intangible and non-existent benefits such as quality and consistency. It can take a while to understand what the term consistency really means. It can be put in a few words as, “Truly replicating the same level of hopelessness over a much broader time horizon”.

                    

Fancy thoughts always seem much more comforting than genuine words. The executive surely could not cite her incompetence or lack of authority in assigning a new location. Instead she included a few management buzzwords like career opportunity; financial capital and broad scope in his conversation rather deftly about which I am sure that neither of us had even the foggiest idea. I even tried to note a few of them for future utility. It was still a hard bargain for me even though I knew that none of those words stood by their dictionary meanings. But still, there had to be something in my resume to brag about for a stretch of an hour or so during placement interviews.

These turn of events finally led my joining at a Mumbai location. One of my friends had booked a lodge for our stay and it turned out to be pretty good decision afterwards. It was cozy enough with the number of bed-bugs and cockroaches just below the lower limit of endurance and shoddy enough not to charge a supernormal rent at an already posh locality. And of course, the thoughts of some random rendezvous with Katrina or Genelia (for the uninitiated, they are bollywood stars who still have both age and beauty at their side) during some unknown shoots at marine drive had been crossing my mind like umpteen times.

                                                           

We quickly found out the cheapest and quickest shortcuts to convey to our offices. It was again another posh locality where these rich wasted and crazy psychotics had access to only the latest models of Audis, BMWs and Mercs. They comprised a major chunk of vehicular traffic like Altos and Santros elsewhere. Nevertheless these psychos inculcated a regular practice of a certain type of we can call it as neck yoga. It is like identifying a BMW from the logo on the bonnet and quickly turning your head to grasp the model from the trunk as it speeds away. Pretty fast, uh! Looking around for others, it seems some pre-destined wannabes have inborn neck-turnaround flexibilities, sometimes turning their necks till a knot is established. I will report if they develop two or more knots, for we could be on the verge of discovering some alien wannabes from a lesser planet. I still want to find out the proportion of wannabes who still manage to make the jump to at least a Honda City.

                                    

                                          The good part is that this city seems to have an innate style of welcoming visitors in umpteen ways. Even with a broken Hindi accent, you can manage to get almost anything in this city, discounting purple dinosaurs and their pretty precedents. One of our South-Indian friends who normally manages to scare off small time snack vendors, is actually managing a pretty decent life here. I had suspected myself to be agoraphobic but these suspicions seem to have dissolved away. An overcrowded and ever-rushing city, still manages to embezzle anxiety out of your mind. One of the greatest memories which will perhaps remain with me for a lifetime is watching India lift the World Cup’2011 trophy, a journey which has been an absolute phenomenon. Mortal absence at the Wankhede, could not inhibit its electric atmosphere from being mirrored all over this city and especially at the Irish. Though the Mumbaikars seem busy in their own little universes they still manage time to help you create yours, but with an obvious discount to your fancies and fantasies.

 

It still seems a long way to go from here, till the advent of a less cruel summer with a bit of drizzle from the heavens. Speaking of some nostalgia, I still miss the serene life at the hillock. Even in all the glitz of the city after dusk.