War Pigs (5th January 2011)

Before you begin, please allow this song to play in the background.



Thanks.

I've been meaning to write this for a while... the WikiLeaks documentary (available for download and watchable on Youtube) is quite hard-hitting indeed. Travels have gotten in the way of personal writing, but with a little help from my friends, I think I should get by.

When I was in school, I subscribed to Us vs. Them (to read some more about Us vs. Them, please direct your attention to this marvellous piece I stumbled upon) and felt quite certain that tattling was not acceptable. I distinctly remember this one occasion of being confronted by a teacher and she was confident I knew about some tomfoolery that took place and who was responsible, and with good reason - I was the perpetrator's neighbour. All I said was, "I won't tell you." and that was that. I wasn't punished for my non-cooperation, but I mean, why would I be? That sort of attitude is quite dictatorial and dogmatic and I wasn't going to stand for that either. Of course these words meant less to me then, but the basic sentiment behind it felt honest, and real, and worth defending.

So I watched the documentary, which is curiously not to be found on Wikipedia and to be honest, this sentence "WikiLeaks is not affiliated with Wikipedia or the Wikimedia Foundation." on the top of the WikiLeaks page seems pretty unwikipedialike too. I urge you to watch the 50 minute long video. It's excellent and if anything, informative.

They needn't have included that rubbish about Julian Assange being accused of sexual misconduct, because whether it's true or not, it's irrelevant to the story of WikiLeaks in any case. But hey, spending an extra ten minutes in an already concise documentary seems fair, I suppose.

So let me tell the uninitiated a little bit about WikiLeaks. Or rather, let the main website do it for me:

"WikiLeaks is a non-profit media organization dedicated to bringing important news and information to the public. We provide an innovative, secure and anonymous way for independent sources around the world to leak information to our journalists. We publish material of ethical, political and historical significance while keeping the identity of our sources anonymous, thus providing a universal way for the revealing of suppressed and censored injustices."

And it makes sense. Apparently, or rather, quite impudently, the world is largely intolerant to honesty. Or transparency. Or more so, an air of "Yeah, I'd like to know, please tell me but then we'll just keep it between us." I can imagine that statement being hurtled across every border, because people are inherently knowledge-hungry. To take the extra effort to substantiate knowledge (read: hearsay) is another story altogether. But at least this (WikiLeaks) seems like a noble enough adventure.

Which brings me to an interesting subject: sources of information. A friend was recently saying something on the lines of, "... well, Wikipedia is unreliable because its information is written by just about anyone." And I've heard this claim before and I find it quite ridiculous how these claimers fail to recognise that this is, in fact, the way you always gain information. Besides an ignorance to the stringent functioning and mechanisms of Wikipedia, you have to understand that this is how information works! Because someone tells you. You might read it, and that is the print version of someone telling you... but you are always receiving information from someone. And the stuff you create for yourself or make up is either wrong or genius, only one way or the other. If it's the latter, please go ahead and publish it quickly, so that someone else has privy to it and then boom, they have the information that someone (you) has told them.

P.S: To know whether any information is accurate or not comes under scientific and empirical testing, of course. Data is key. Ask any epistemologist.

Big shout out to Wikipedia here, because honestly, to put together everything that you (we) do and then to scrutinise and edit and take away bias and weight is a Herculean task. I've noticed many mistakes, especially with a lot of the Indian pages being faulty or flawed, what with remote towns being labelled the "best place in the world" by naïve or rather, ambitious Wikiers! Or for example the Indian Ocean (band) page with bold statements like, "Susmit has virtually invented a new style of playing the guitar, an uncannily Indian sound where purity of scale reigns, strong melodic lines woven around the drone of open strings." or later on in an eerily sentimental reference to Asheem's death "However, Asheem is intensely missed among all Indian Ocean fans who believe he is truly irreplaceable."

Outrageous, I know, but these anomalies only take place because not enough Wikipedia-minded people are online, reading these pages and keen to sit and edit them. Wikipedia-minded here, meaning anyone with half a brain who can tell opinions and rumours from statements that are less claims than anything else. "Objective" is a good but difficult word to use here, I think.
Choosing spectator, not active participant, I guess.

But back to the topic at hand. 'Collateral Murder' is the title given to this horrendously macabre footage of 2007 US airstrikes in Baghdad, where at least 18 people were killed in total. A short version (trailer, if you will) is included in the WikiLeaks documentary because it was really what catapulted them to the fame on which they stand today.

An excerpt from the radio transmitted dialogue I found particularly moving from that video goes something like this:

"Well it's their fault for bringing their kids to a battle."
-"That's right."

This was a means of consolation to the hardy soldiers that had opened fire and I get it, I truly do. How else do you live with yourself? People talk about being in the battlefield and how you can't understand it unless you're there... but what they really mean to do is create a context in which evil can be justified and I happen to think that there is hope in that very act. To think that they would like to justify their evil is a step in the direction of good. If they felt no remorse, they wouldn't even take the time to make statements like that. Even if it were only 10 seconds of their time.

Now WikiLeaks isn't perfect either. Perfection seems hard to conceive at the moment... but I'm quite supportive of any efforts toward honesty. OpenLeaks is the off-shoot, the spin-off, the avant-garde. Daniel Domscheit-Berg, the founder and former deputy for WikiLeaks said that the intention was to be more transparent than WikiLeaks as "In these last months, the organisation has not been open any more. It lost its open-source promise." It planned to start in early 2011 and you can get to the soon-to-be released website here.

Whether it works or not is yet to be determined. All I can say is that I appreciate it and I know WikiLeaks probably does as well. It isn't a competition when a win on either side translates to achievement for both.

Shanti.

Coffee, Pepper and Vanilla. (13th December 2010)

Feel like getting away from it all? Feel like a road trip or a trip to the wilderness? Feel like doing some farming? An urge to cultivate? Well, this is the place for you!

My brother's estate in Hassan, Karntaka is a fantastic way to spend a few days connecting with nature, learning about farm-life and having an all-around good time. Kick back with some great coffee (or beer and whisky) and relax in the arms of nature while pondering over your place in the world, perhaps. For lighter enjoyment, turn on the 42 inch plasma television and watch some Discovery Channel or Vh1! It's all happening and it's all delicious. Go ahead, plan a visit to Goorghully Estate and spend a few days with Chirag Mukerji. He could use the company and you... could use the time of your life.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=336202&id=749108571

Hello, I Love You, Won't You Tell Me Your Name? (26th November 2010)

I'm driving out in a few hours. Pune - Bangalore - Mysore - Hassan - Bangalore - Goa - Pune is the plan at the moment and everything seems peachy.

Let it roll, baby, roll.



------------
(10th December 2010)

Back home now. Two weeks and about 3500 kilometres later, I'd have to say this road trip has been all sorts of epic. 4 days in Bangalore, 3 in Mysore, 3 in Hassan, 3 in Goa and most of that in my trusty and wonderful 5-speed Maruti 800, with the music turned up. Way up.

The weather has been fantastic. I can't explain it.
I don't have anything against rain... but you know that bit just before the clouds burst and for a few moments, everything seems to be in a suspended state of 'pleasant'? Well, somehow, the Weather Gods deemed it fit to serve us with those very moments... stretched out into fourteen exquisite days, all across the Deccan Plateau and Western Ghats. Quite.

On a related and very interesting note, there's a word to describe the smell of the earth after rain: Petrichor.

So yes, the drive was excellent. Other highlights include catching some terrific live music, from Dub FX to the happy chaps on the Goa jazz/blues/rock circuit... and some invigorating physical activity in the form of trekking and dancing and a ridiculously redeeming game of basketball.

My mind's been wandering a heck of a lot these past two weeks... and hopefully the posts to follow will have some evidence of that. For now, try these on for size:

1.


Uh 2.



And uh 3.


"Baby don't you understand... what you're doing to the man."

Salut.

What's in a Letter? The A - Z game (17th November 2010)

I just had a thought. I was writing an email when I suddenly felt amused by how the words I chose in one sentence came together rather beautifully. The aesthetic of language is a very interesting trait and I've always found it fascinating when words are put together (sometimes intentionally) to form alliterations or statements that really sort of roll off the tongue nicely.

Now alliterations are many words using the same letter, so I thought about how it would be novel to use each letter of the alphabet instead, and form a single sentence. And I would do this using the letters in sequence. It must have already been done by someone at some point but I thought I might give it a go.

This was my first effort... and I have to say, it is a very exciting exercise and I recommend everyone try it. It's like a little adventure; the fun is in weaving the words together while following the one and only rule: A to Z.

A boy could derive extraordinary fun going hunting in jail; killing lemurs, monkeys, necrophiliacs or pedophiles, quietly reducing suspicion to underestimate various wicked xenophiles yearning Zen!

I'm not sure why my brain turned to killing animals and perverts, but I feel as though this can also have some psychological significance, if used in tests. I have to say – the first half of the alphabet is easy... but the second half gets tricky. Especially because you're halfway through the sentence. And you can only go a few ways with XYZ!

I'll end with something Timothy Leary once said. It's a great thought and fits here, I think. It's used as a lyric in a song by Infected Mushroom.

"But they all do sort of the same thing, and that is rearrange what you thought was real, and... umm... they remind you of the beauty of pretty simple things.
You forget, because you're so busy going from A to Z that there's umm... twenty-four letters in between."

Damn, I love that part when the beats slip in at "letters in between" and then the words trail off. Really hits home.

Turn on, tune in, drop out.

"Does God Have A Future?" (12th November 2010)

I've had a pretty interesting 12th of November. And I say this with any confidence only because I know how 12th of Novembers can be.
Relatively... uninteresting.

I woke up this morning and stumbled upon a TED talk by Michael Shermer. Michael is called a "debunker" because he spends his time investigating claims of UFO sightings and other supernatural phenomena. Like the grilled cheese sandwich of the virgin Mary that was sold for $28000 or you know, any faces or patterns people tend to see in otherwise uninteresting and dull things. He prefers to be referred to as a skeptic, and I suppose I agree, because all he's really doing is adopting a scientific and empirical method to approaching these miracles. He talks about 'strange' beliefs and how human beings have a tendency to look for patterns.
"The tendency to find meaningful patterns in both meaningful and non-meaningful noise."

It's an interesting talk and I am personally keen on any topics involving the principle of belief and factors that play into it... so my interest in this man was naturally piqued and I went to the website of the magazine Skeptic he started and came across this provocative title–
"Does God have a future?"

What made it particularly provocative to me was the fact that it involved a debate with Deepak Chopra! Now I don't know so much about Deepak, except that I won't read or encourage the reading (read: entertaining) of his material... but I do think he can provide a great perspective on the matters of spirituality or the new-age religion as one could call it, seeing as how he is such a highly revered man in the industry.

It started as a correspondence talk on CNN about afterlife, when Deepak decided to challenge Mr. Shermer to a debate in front of a live audience and I don't know about you, but this seemed like a terrific way to spend the rest of my afternoon. Here's a promo to the face-off: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8lKyD8V3E3M.
It's five and a half minutes long and should give you a good premise to the entire soirée.

The URL to the 12 videos, each around 9 minutes is here: http://www.youtube.com/user/AtheistMediaBlog#grid/user/EAAE2D3FFB6BCCA8.

The debate had two sides to it. Michael Shermer and Sam Harris (also TED talker) on the side of science and skepticism, and Deepak Chopra and Jean Houston on the side of spirituality and a deeper consciousness. It was being held at Caltech and was bound to be an engaging discussion, no matter which side of the fence you sit on. Or even if you're an on-the-fence sort of person.

Now on the face of it, I must admit, I didn't know what to expect. My ignorance on the ways and oratory skills of Mr. Chopra and my agnostic stance on the topic in general had me favouring Michael and Sam from the start, but not entirely dismissing the proposition of Chopra and Houston coming out on top. Shermer seemed pragmatic but as we get into the debate, I found myself disappointed at his argumentative skills and his unfortunate "cop-outs", as Deepak rightly judged them. I suppose it was for lack of a better term, but using "woo-woo" and "fuzzy language" as a means to describe your opponent's argument is not giving much credibility to your own.

Sam Harris, on the other hand was a delight.

Initially I was a little skeptical about Sam, even though I didn't know very much about him... because he seemed to have a smug demeanor and I didn't want some self-righteous, condescending chap defending the likes of a stance that is already laced with rows of self-righteousness and condescension. But then, I suppose those qualities are inherent to a debate where one is arguing the existence of a higher power and you are aiming to refute their claim.

Au contraire, Sam Harris was well-spoken, polite and prolific and managed to seam words beautifully to elucidate his cause. There were times his mocking was less subtle, but for the most part, he was clever and tactful and crisp and his background in philosophy and PhD in neuroscience held him in good stead all through the debate.

Besides talk of oxytocin and dopamine, locality and nonlocality, quantum mechanics and a few other unmentionables, a layman ought to be able to follow this debate pretty smoothly.

1. The side of science aims to increase the influence it has on our day-to-day lives, along with our worldview so that sooner than later, the need for a dependency like organised religion is diminished. This is not to say that they are against religion, but rather, asking merely to reduce it to its core nature and purpose - a support group and a self-help tool.

At least this is what I took from it.

2. The side of spirituality is urging science and well, the world, to join the quest for one-ness and infinite consciousness and although the word consciousness perplexes the smartest of minds, one can't help but empathise with the pursuit of an understanding and overall goodness... and see that aside from the misrepresentation of science in their "explanations", they are doing no harm.

So then what is the harm, really, of having people like Deepak Chopra roam the metaphysical/phorical streets amongst the hordes of people looking to find a deeper meaning?

The harm is that the process leading to it is lined with an arrogance, suspiciously disguised as humility and service to a greater power... and the product is analogous to the fundamentalism inscribed in the forces of terror the world so evidently despises.
Again, this is what I gathered.

To summarise the debate, and I urge you to read these paragraphs carefully:

The science guys are scrutinising the spirit guys' arguments so as to expose what we can all speculate to be the future of God and whether people will, not should, eventually stop believing.
While the spirit guys are more interested in asking the science guys to support their claims so that they can, during the moments of the debate and thereafter, create a new understanding of God and consciousness – with the help of science.

On the surface this seems noble and idealistic, but I believe it has deeper implications of conceited and absurd aims of putting the ridiculous weight of revolutionising the entire world of spirituality on their shoulders.

And whose shoulders are these? The venerable Deepak Chopra is worth 80 million dollars.
I'd like you to take a minute to understand the implications of his net value.

And Jean Houston! Boy, she is just a champion of misdirection and really, a pitiful character who didn't belong in an intelligent dialogue like this. Don't get me wrong, she's very sweet and definitely someone who can tell excellent and unparalleled bedtime stories... but I mean, she's the oldest person on the panel and the wisdom she has accrued through her 72 years of experiences is quite visibly infected. She spent more time relaying century-old quotes and telling magnificent tales from her life than actually contributing to the argument.
Why Deepak chose her as his accomplice is only a testament to his own intelligence.

I'm tired of people talking about this being the most crucial and intense and deepest time the world has ever seen. I'm tired of this banter about humans being the enemy of the Earth and the bane of evolution and the cause for the annihilation and proverbial apocalypse of the world.
And how we're in the most poetic of crossroads at this juncture of the universe – where we can either choose to save or destroy the planet.

This debate isn't an opportunity to entitle ourselves. This is a debate to critically evaluate the influence of God and organised religion and the patternicity humans tend to observe. And whether these forces will play a role in the future of humanity... and if not, how much longer will they survive?

Because let's face it, we're only talking about humanity here.
The other species are considerably less interested in the subject.

As Harris so eloquently put it,

"The God that our neighbours believe in, is essentially an invisible person. He is a creator deity, who created the universe to have a relationship with one species of primate. *smirks* Lucky us. *pauses* And he's got galaxy upon galaxy to attend to, but he's especially concerned with what we do, and he's especially concerned with what we do while naked."

Ridiculous. But very, very insightful.
I'd like to end this with an excerpt from a Deepak Chopra story. At one of these panel discussions, during the Q&A round, this lovely man who resembles George Lucas comes up to the mic.

Guy: "Deepak. You stated before that all belief is a cover-up for insecurity. Right?"
Deepak: "Mhmm."
Guy: "Do you believe that?"
Deepak: "Yes."
Guy: "Thank you."

Crisis In Faith (7th November 2010)

Lately I've begun to understand better why it is I like to write. And more so, I've begun to understand why my words mean so much to me. With each letter, it's as though I've made a commitment. Then I play it over and over and over again in my head so that with each go over, I add some more meaning to the words I chose to use until by the end of it, what I have left is a piece of my soul captured in time by syntax and semantics.
I wrote this and I hate it already. And I think that's the point.

We are what we pretend to be. And if all it's about is pretense and conviction, I'd like a blindfold please.

Grimacing at my own words, my speech is wearing thin
I own no true confidence.

Spiralling towards an inevitable fate,
I know that doom and deference are matters of persuasion.

Convinced I need not convince myself any more,
I write in alliterations and I fail.

God, give me a weapon to fight this sloth
Give me a weapon to destroy myself so that perhaps I may respawn.

I hate being my own master
but I am unwilling to submit to you.

Oh cohesive contortionist
Oh rhetoric allusion
I know that this will end.
I know that this will end.

It is my crisis in faith.

An Open Letter To Indian Basketball (3rd November 2010)

I came across an article the official NBA website in a peculiar fashion. I was merely trying to play a quick catch-up since the season has started and at the bottom there was a terrific picture of Jordan shooting over Starks with the caption - "Manwani: My Favourite Moment".

The name struck me as unusual for an NBA columnist and seeing as I grew up watching the Bulls in the 90s, I clicked to find that I was on the NBA India page and unfortunately, that didn't say very much to me at the start.

Understandably, since basketball coverage in India has always been bleak - even now. The last post-season (09-10) wasn't given any importance and only the Conference Finals onwards were shown with any sort of regularity. To think that eager NBA fans in India will wake up at unearthly hours to make time for a 2 and a half hour spot on ESPN and then remorsefully have to turn the TV off since it's playing baseball or figure skating or some other such rot is preposterous. I remember feeling particularly frustrated more than a few times this season and I don't see how it makes any sense. I don't mean any disrespect to any other sport but there really must be a reservation for NBA playoff games, enough for them to be aired live for those who care. And I am confident you will agree - there are other people in this country who care about basketball more than the frivolous banter they play at 5 in the morning.
If anything, live sport should be given preference to re-runs.

Aside from this, the portrayal (in movies like Kuch Kuch Hota Hai and that other Hrithik movie and more recently, the blackberry suits ad), of basketball as a sport is ridiculous. The voice over and ad production is another reason to cringe but that wouldn't be relevant to the topic.

I could go on, but I think you see my point about why I might have felt slightly forlorn at the sight of an NBA India blog page and wondered who might be writing and further perpetuating this ugly image of such a wonderful sport in India now.

And then I read this article.

Needless to say, (and not to sound hoity-toity) I was very impressed! Manwani seemed to be very knowledgeable about the game and more importantly, the energy and the spirit of it. I enjoyed reading it and turned my attention to the other pieces he contributed and he has gained a new fan! If this is anything to go by, the level of awareness of basketball is sure to rise and I find myself eager to participate in any way possible.

I used to play very often but I'm afraid I don't hold the same fortitude as I did before. I know for a fact that there is tremendous talent in this country and there ought to be a way to harness it into an actual force to reckon with, the force I know we have the potential to be. This email seems rather lengthy now and to be honest, I had only come here to say hello and express my support. Being a writer myself and a basketball aficionado, I guess I got carried away :)

If you've taken the time to read this far, I want to say thank you again and I'll be sure to follow your work (already following your blogspot) and I wish you luck with your column(s).

Cheers!

-Varun Mukerji (Pune, India)

Possibility World (23rd September 2010)

If I were to put together all of my plans and ideas for what I want to do with my life, right from the tiny whims like putting up more posters in my room and organising my music and movie collection to the more intense ambitions like starting a company or making a movie or making a movie about starting a company, I'm certain the hypothetical life I would lead would be entirely too glamourous.
Indeed.

At different moments in my life, I have been consumed with the idea of being a Professional

Stand-up comedian
Spiritual leader
Actor/screenwriter/editor/director
Bass or harmonica or xylophone player or heck, front-man of a band
Tap dancer
Juggler
Stuntman
Rock climber
Base jumper/sky diver
Security guard at an ATM
Truck driver
Horse caretaker
Dog caretaker
Dog photographer
Masseur
Motivational speaker
Enhancing popularity trainer
Policy maker's assistant
Detective
Psychiatrist
World traveller
Social critic
Movie critic
Music critic
Any critic
Googler (basically using any internet search tool to find out or verify virtually anything)
Proofreader
Entrepreneur's go-to guy
Guy who makes names for companies/products/kids/pets
Owner of a great venue to live music and art showcasing/integrating
Movie and music producer
Copywriter
Writer.

Currently this is where the list stands. I think. In my head, at least. And sincerely speaking, I think it's down-up. Which is to suggest that the last few items on the list are what I am immediately (and for the better part of the next few years, intend to be) consumed with.

And if you look closely (if you haven't already)... the capital letters all fit together to form a word.

---

OK, I lie. But don't you hate it when people capitalise the first letter in a vertical list like that and don't make it a word? Imagine being a Professional List Maker So That The First Letter Of Each Item Is A Letter In The Word The List Ultimately Spells Out, Guy. I would probably love that.

I think my point is... that I have inadvertently led a very illustrious (and extremely unique) life of possibilities, all along the relatively less interesting 22 years of life reality has asked me to recognise. It's quite inspiring on the one hand... but a little disappointing most of the time.
So much paperwork in the process.

If there were a way to document and actually lead the many lives our imagination could conjure (not in a virtual reality sense) and make a living out of actually living, that would be a delight.

Possibility World.

Oh well. Just a thought. I suppose it isn't a possibility. Maybe the purpose of this was just to list down the different things I want to do before I die.
Besides being a father.

"Everyone thinks Possibility Girl is possibly a genius. Any day now, they continually agree, Possibility Girl will make it big. Become a star. ‘You won’t forget us when you're famous, will you?’ they always say, as Possibility Girl begins yet another amazing project.

The only person, who doesn’t believe in Possibility Girl's possible genius, is Possibility Girl herself. She thinks they're being too kind. She isn’t gifted at all. She’s a fake genius, bluffing her way through life. She is convinced the moment she tries to actually achieve her full potential, she will fail, fall flat on her face, and the people that once admired her from afar, will admire her no more. And so Possibility Girl never actually achieves anything. She just sits on the edge of her possible glory and basks in the adulation of her potential." - Andre Jordan

Sincerely,

Possibility Boy.

In the Land of Women (20th October 2009)

I stumbled on an untitled document in one of my private folders. It gave me a fun glimpse into myself and I suppose it couldn't hurt to turn into a post.

-----

20^th October 2009

6:50 p.m.

Sitting in a three tier train complete with families and their excited and curious children – and somehow because I’m writing here, I feel like I’m at home. The music does manage to help too.

I watched (500) Days of Summer a few days ago. It’s great, definitely one of those films I’ll watch over and over again solely because it does a super job capturing two people and the course of their relationship. I related very well with Joseph Gordon Levitt’s character… and what usually happens when you draw a strong relation with a character in a movie, you begin to adjust your values and outlook based on the story he creates. I think I took more from the movie than I gave, if that makes any sense to you. I questioned love and careers and laziness and why I am so frustratingly inclined to women who make me crazy. You give me a girl with large eyes and a gorgeous smile she seldom uses and I am putty. It’s because I need very badly to know how to make her smile and better yet, keep that miracle on her face. Girls are special, they truly are. They show me their angry and hostile side, their spiteful and vulnerable side and I will keep coming back for more. I have learnt to love all sorts of women and understand their secrets. And now I don’t know if I want to take this document any further.

Just three steps to forget I ever wrote this:

Click on the red ‘x’ logo on the top left.

Click on ‘No’ for when it prompts me to save the unsaved.

Look out the window.

Dogs of Society (4th August 2010)

I had to kill a dog today. And I didn't know his name.

It's a story filled with apathy and pathos... and even a touch of greed.

I was driving out to do some errands. I passed what I could tell was a body of a dog lying on the side of a road. I paused to feel sad and then I was going to go on with my day. But as I drove closer, I noticed that it was breathing. Heavily.

I pulled to the side and walked over to see that the dog was shivering rigorously, but was probably unconscious.
Almost dead, I thought. Somehow almost wasn't a peaceful way to part ways.

I made a few calls... quite a few of my friends are dog enthusiasts, and generally good people. Today, however, was unfortunate timing.
I had to do this alone.

I tried Blue Cross but the number wouldn't connect. I tried the SPCA but nobody answered. This was discouraging.

I called Dr. Sagar, one of the more reliable vets in the area but he didn't answer either. Vets are usually disappointing. I understand that they lead busy lives... and I suppose they're usually very helpful in any animal situation but I couldn't help but feel disillusioned at this point.

But my emotions didn't matter. This dog did.


Dr. Tulpule's clinic was open the last time Anuj and I saved a dog. I assumed he'd be open this time to kill one.

After signing my name in the visitor register of the society outside which this dog was lying, I got the reluctant security guards to help me put this poor guy in the back seat of my car, over a heap of newspapers I had just organised, thanks to Viraj.

Drove carefully to Tulpule, by myself... thinking about the possibility of actually rescuing this dog, and then wondering where I'd be able to take him and leave him so that he recovers. Thinking ahead is a practical concept... and it usually dissuades us from attempting to help. Even if we want to help, one can't or won't ignore the consequences of getting involved... and it is a very depressing truth.

Thank you Indian Authorities, for doing very little to make us feel safe and comfortable putting money into your mostly incompetent hands.

Tulpule said that this dog had distemper and needed to be put down immediately. Five minutes and a 100 rupee syringe later, his heart had stopped. Right there, in the back seat of my car.

I was instructed to drive down the road, and place the corpse near a big yellow garbage bin, so that the PMC would come and pick it up soon. I parked, and opened the door to start removing the body. It was considerably heavier than before, and now there weren't any reluctant security guards around to help. I asked some passerbys... but I guess this wasn't their idea of a good way to spend their evening.

There I was, standing outside my car at a bridge near a gutter, trying in vain to lift the body of this astonishingly heavy but limp dog. Lifelessness is detrimental to mobility, I concluded.

Finally, a fellow walked by me and said that for a hundred bucks, he'd help. I sighed... but accepted. We disposed of the body.
And then I drove home... errandless.

Stray dogs on the streets are logistically inconvenient. Don't get me wrong... they make for great companions as you're strolling over to the local supermarket etc... but dog-lovers or otherwise, you have to acknowledge this. It's a harsh reality.
Co-existence with dogs doesn't often come up in a neighbourhood's list of priorities.

Some dogs may lead happy lives, but most of them live in fear and don't get food very easily.
They're hit by cars or killed by disease. Those that survive get to play "sticks and stones" with your children.

They live to survive and want not love, but mercy.

I don't know a solution.

What I do know is that this happens too often and ordinary people with good intentions don't ordinarily step out of their way to do something. Heck, neither do I.
I've learnt to rationalise and dismiss. "This is nature... this is analogous to a deer being eaten by a lion."

Today I just happened to be in the mood to help... and happened to have the time to help.
It was a coincidence.

We can't rely on coincidences any longer. There needs to be a central and standardised approach to rehabilitating animals.
Stop buying dogs, we have enough on the streets!
Go visit the pound near the RTO... it'll melt your heart and then turn it to stone.
If you're someone who can help or know someone who would have been perfect for me to have called today, get the word out!
Advertise! Use your blogs and your tweets, your facebooks and your personal contact at the newspaper.

Do people care? Yes. They care. I've seen them care. Just make it easier for them to transform their concern into something tangible. Enable them. Enable me.

----
I had to kill a dog today. And I didn't know his name.

1 syringe of euthanasia juice: 100 rupees.
1 willing, albeit industrious man to help me with the corpse: 100 rupees.
Time taken to sign the visitor register: A minute more of suffering for the dog.

The cost of the lesson I learned today: Priceless.

No wait.

The life of this nameless dog.

----
There are some things money can't buy. And I'm pretty sure nobody really cares about them.

The Month of Juley (30th July 2010)

I went to Ladakh. I left Pune on the 6th, took a train to Delhi, spent a couple of days in Gurgaon, took a bus to Manali, spent a few days there, took another bus to Leh, spent a few days there and then returned to Pune via Manali and Delhi on the 23rd.
It was beautiful.

Now for the unabridged version.

Its funny how travelling has transformed into what it is today. The experience is more or less the same but the communication has become very crucial.

So I went to Ladakh. It is sincerely amazing, especially in its aesthetics. I also liked Manali very much and definitely recommend it to anyone. My intention was to write down the details of my journey, like a log book, in the hope that something good and inspired would come of it. I'm happy to report that it indeed did spur some beautiful stuff. Ignore the rest of the rant.
You've been warned :)

Oh, and I should add: as an avid computer-user, ergo - typist, the act of physically writing with a pen in a book was an experience in itself. It's a brilliant tool to extract the raw stuff. I find that writing in boxes like this gives the unconvicted author plenty of opportunities to edit and some times (and you might agree) leads to over-produced content. That said, writing in a book is fresh and hardly gives you a chance to look at what you've written, let alone understand it. Or maybe I'm speaking for myself here, but I took full liberty to scribble incomprehensibly so that the reading later on turned more interesting.
And boy, it did!

---
6th July - Pune. 0300 hours.

All packed. This bag is awesome. I looked underneath to find a zipper that unfolds a large sheet of tarp that functions as an umbrella! So neat. Thanks, Anuj!

This trip is going to be LEGEND

6th July - Train. 1220 hours.

... ARY.

I found a theme
I think.
Through the lens
Capsules of red light filter the delicate notes
Into a complexion of astute Peachfulness.
Bass lines quiver and linger
And pulverize the naked moss into memory.

9th July - Manali. 2155 hours.

So I was in Delhi for a couple of days. That was fun and it gave me a chance to realize that in spite of being away from the city for 3 months, everything is as clear as yesterday. Or last week.

Moving on to Manali though. What-the-fuck? This place is gorgeous. You've got beautiful mountains and snow-covered peaks in the distance. Rapids and rocks, multicultural stuff, yaks!
And an unparalleled acceptance of hashish.

11th July - Keylong. 2355 hours.

Shitty place. If you're coming through here, you may as well go 20km further and stay at Jispa. Whatever, it's only a night; but the HPTDC (Himachal Pradesh Tourism Development Corporation) is definitely very disappointing.

The weather, however, is great - I love it. The trip from Manali so far has been eventful, to say the least. Picturesque as hell and all that, but because of some unforeseen circumstances to do with land and slides, Rohtang Pass was blocked and the lot of us were made to trek over 3kms up a mountain!

Exhausting stuff, even though the air is very clear here. This trek was an absolute highlight, not soon forgotten - especially since I was carrying the massive bag I mentioned in the beginning of this story. But I suppose it was fun and besides, I felt very healthy :)

The journey after has been troublesome because we've been stuffed into the wrong side of a smaller bus. I vehemently discourage you from doing the HPTDC gig.
Rent a car or best yet - an enfield!

15th July - Leh. 2025 hours.

I'm sitting at a cafe by myself. Just ordered a chocolate cinnamon croissant at one of the MANY German styled bakeries this place seems to be flooded with.

Leh has been superb, despite the lack of Confluencing. I'm sure the music would have made it fabulous, though :(

Highlights:

1. The people - amazingly friendly, for the most part. Especially our driver-friend, Namgyal, who felt offended when we paid him extra. That was until we assured him it was "khushi se".
2. The landscape - honestly, so beautiful it is annoying! You are constantly under pressure to be taking it all in... enjoying the breathtaking view of the mountains and the hills and the rivers and the terrain and the blah blah... Aargh!
But then you take a deep breath and revisit images of your city in your head and everything is peachy again.

I rented an Enfield today! Picked an old-school-gears-on-the-right, maroon coloured geriatric. Why? It seemed more authentic. Thunderbirds are a dime a dozen here although I'm not sure if I'm still happy with my decision.

Riding through the hills on NH 1D past all the empty scape and army stuff was sensational. Every corner I took with that wretched beast added to the overall stud feel.

Awesome day. Started by visiting the Ancient Palace and was guided by an exceptionally quiet and cute little ten year old to-be-monk whose name I cannot recall/pronounce.

This place is pretty incredible and rightly up there amongst the world's favourite spots but you have to take the initiative (also money) to get out and ride, raft and revel.

Ok, on to number 3.
Have you ever been asked to pick between the beach and the mountains, when asked about ideal holiday destinations?
Well, pick no more. We found what I can only describe as paradise.

Picture a wide river flowing through a valley.
Picture sitting at the soft beach, watching the river flow by.
Picture rocky hills all around, speckled by patches of green trees.
Now zoom out, and picture the mountains in the distance, all covered in snow.
All the while dipping your toes into PURPLE (what?) sand. Man.

This place was/is exquisite.

And we found it accidentally, like all good things.

Beyond the Alchi temples and frescos, there's a path that will take you there. Purple beach, soft sand, wild flowers, brown hills, snow peaks in the distance and ice-cold water flowing like an untamed body of Fucking A.

Phew.

P.S: Why does the power go out so often here?

The croissant was alright. I think the food is unremarkable, or remarkable in that way.

18th July - Manali. 1207 hours.

We rented an Innova back to Manali. (Highly recommended)
The journey was easily better than the way there and we got to stop at every place we felt like - including TangLang La Pass at midnight to take a picture! The cold was biting.

I learnt two words in Leh. "Juley" which is pretty popular and you're bound to pick it up. It means "hello" or "good day" because you can say it whenever. It's definitely a great way to feel like you're fitting in.

The other word is "Kathaks" which I'm not sure of the literal translation but my understanding of it is to describe the white snow and the glaciers and how essential water is to life. Kathaks is a traditional scarf given to people as a means to welcome them.

Mine was given to me by a Bhikku Sanghasena - the founder president of the Mahabodhi International Meditation Centre. Now before I go ahead, let me affirm that I mean no disrespect to this man or his faith or to anything for that matter. I really like and admire him and applaud his service to humanity. I am expressing my opinions and their background lies in my critical approach to things in general, especially spiritual and religious topics. *Peace*

So yes, Bhikku. He is a great, tall man who reeks of positive energy and careful speech. Smiled throughout the conversation.
And why wouldn't he? He had everything a man could want, I imagine. Besides the bare necessities, he lives in luxury, has the view of the Himalayas outside his window, gets to wear super comfortable clothes and robes, has people waiting on him hand and foot.

And best of all, his voice is recorded and revered by everyone.
The things he'd say are put up on walls like epigraphs of holy script.

He is a wise man. Like any other wise man. Except willingly bald and using the power of his spirit to channel and command people's work and energy towards his purpose. His purpose is agreeable. His methods... maybe so. But his position causes me to wonder how these things happen in today's world of instant disbelief.
The dichotomy is startling. Cynics and agnostics have no say here. It is accepted and understood as law - and because his purpose is agreeable, everyone's more or less happy.
Which is fucking beautiful.
So maybe asking questions or speculating isn't the point.
The end justifies? I can't say.

Most old men are wise. I mean, if they aren't, they're just ignorant. The men who leave scope for more learning, understanding and most importantly - doubt, are the wise ones.

Wise men are those that have the capacity to understand anything and the discipline to know that they don't.

It's a form of self-awareness, or another word they like to throw around in an almost unfortunate fashion - meditation.
It's the Jesus of our age.
"Meditation is your only path to salvation." Sound familiar?

What I would suggest is a milder approach - where we're not pulling the wool over their eyes. People need/want guidance and answers. There is definitely a market here.
But stay responsible, you know?

Perhaps this is as responsible as they can be. Perhaps a younger voice might help. Just to offer corroboration. Just to keep them on their toes. Any good Jesus should be kept on his toes; just like any good parent should act - as a boat.
To take their children across the stream as gently as they row.

Ambedkar, Osho, this guy, Krishnamurti, the Dalai Lama and the guy who started Scientology are all examples of Jesus in the modern world. Or Mohammed or Guru Nanak or what have you.

And it's scary to me as much as inspiring.

Do I want to be Jesus? I don't know really... but I sure as hell would love the overwhelming validation these guys are privy to.
Imagine the power, the exhilaration.

And when that gets tiring - you've still got it made!
A roof, regular meals... and comfy clothes.

Amen.

Weltanschauung (29th July 2010)

I got tattooed yesterday. I put on my shorts, got into my car, picked up Jenaan and drove to Al's Tattoos 'n' Cappuccino, Carter Road, Bandra.

His name was Joe, from Thailand. He'd be my artist, I was told. Looked nice enough, wore a smile and had a killer tattoo on his neck. I got a good vibe from him.

My wrist is still a little swollen and it throbs when I leave my hand limp. Should take a while to heal I suppose. I've read that yellow isn't the best colour to use. But it wouldn't be the same without it, so I hope I manage to take care of it right. Maintenance is key.

I've been more or less neutral towards the topic of tattoos and sometimes even against, because of how nothing lasts etc. But more recently I started to recognize that there are things that I hold on to and I stopped seeing reason in discouraging the concept.
Besides, a tattoo also happens to be pretty darn cool.

---------

The design is very close to me, and comes from modest beginnings. Over 2 years ago now, I used MS Paint to place an infinity logo over a smiley face. I sat back and said "YES".

I tried to make it my own. A depiction of my values and my faith in integrity, in happiness.
A depiction of my way of being.

I've held it close for a while now and it has kept me going, along with the people I hold close - and enabled me to live free with any pain or negativity.
Like a reminder, that staying positive is worth it.
Hoping is worth it. Smiling is worth it.

The pursuit of happiness with an effort towards the perspective of infinity.

- The perspective of infinity here is to say there every point of view can hold value and that there is always another way to look at, or approach an idea.
- The white in the eyes to depict the vast, open space of everything and nothing all at once. Of possibility and scope. Of the universe in thought.
- The yellow face to express good and strong energy. Vibrancy.
- And the smile. To say that happiness is the best way to go.

The inifinty-eyed smiley helps me remember. This is my tattoo, my elegant anchor.
A display of my Weltanschauung.

And the smile isn't perfect. The edges are different.

A scar can get in the way of a smile... but not in the way of what it represents.

Yours indelibly,

Varun!

Disenthrall (30th May 2010)

I'd like for you to watch this video and then immediately, the video after that. It's a total of 38 minutes that you won't get back but you'll be happier for it, I'm certain.

1.


2.

I've been thinking lately about where I'm headed and how I got here. I've been thinking about the people around me and their opinions, the stigma surrounding our choices and the fact that at 21, I probably don't know any better.

Through this conflict, I've tried hard to hold a few things close. Simple maxims like do what you love and believe in yourself and other classics have always made sense to the world so I don't see how different it needs to be in practice. Which is a milder phrase for 'in life'.

There are two types of people in this world. Those who divide the world into two types and those who do not.

He talks about disenthrallment. It's a big, beautiful, four-syllabled word to describe the process of liberation. In this context, with respect to every day concepts.

Try and examine the things that you take for granted. It's difficult, because you take them for granted. But if you make an effort, if you put some thought into your values and your understanding of the world and why you think things are the way they are, you may be able to free yourself from the bondage of established ideas. This sure helps to re-appreciate the human capacity and aptitude to do virtually anything.

The word 'but' is really starting to annoy me. I use it all the time, I admit. But what it stands for, what it represents is something I am beginning to disagree with. I showed those videos to my beautiful mother. She's a teacher. She laughed and smiled and nodded her head in unconditional concurrence and once we were done, uttered the sinful and oh-so-familiar 'but'.

Why? I happen to think his argument is sound and more accurately, complete.

"But..."

I'm sure you've heard it before and amidst the times you've gone "yeah, yeah I guess you're right" there has definitely been at least one solitary instance of that three lettered word striking a nerve, triggering a spot and causing a sense of discomfort and loathe-some displeasure everybody hates to be acquainted with.

You know, these are things we talk about and read about and watch in movies all the time. We agree with them, we are inspired by them, we read the Lance Armstrong books and then... and then... we go on with our lives. We endure our daily routine and wait for the weekend, as he put it. If there's someone you know who is sincerely or even remotely making an effort to deny this ungainly existence, I say either encourage him or step off. There is no middle ground.

I'm sure he appreciates the motivation with which you express your concern or disdain for his choices. But the more you force him to dwell on his circumstances, the higher the chance of him buckling under the pressure you and everyone else in the world regrets to create.

We are in a hurry to settle down. Imagine that.

A hurry to settle down.

Sir Ken Robinson is right, you know. This linearity is obsolete. We are no longer in the era of industrialism. Standardization has served its course. Destroy the conveyor belt. Art has room to breathe now. So do chartered accountants. Whatever floats your boat, man. We are in the age of agriculture, where everything and everyone is personal and truly enough, we're getting back to basics.

He says we need to prepare our children for the future. Thanks to our busy lives, the future is closer than we think.

He says we need to prepare for the World of the Organic.

And guess what?

It's T-60 seconds to take off.

Indiecision (22nd May 2010)

If everyone is Indie, is anyone Indie? Assess the significance of the idea of independence within popular music.

Abstract: Are labels and names and classifications slowly losing their significance to give room to free flowing multidimensional and interdisciplinary art that only uses those labels for their own promotion and publicity? The trick is stigma. We are now convinced that it is cool to be unusual, off the beaten path and exclusive. Less known is alluring. Calling something indie is like tagging it 'hep' and that unfortunate consequence is a result of this revisiting of the 1960s we seem to be going through. Awareness and getting "in touch with ourselves" seems to be the theme of the decade that has gone by, right from Chicken Soup For The Soul to that movie Crash.

I read somewhere about how the artist experience seems to be making a come back. In the 60s and 70s, the music was personal. People knew about the artists and their lives were a big part of the world. The late 70s disco and all through the 80s up until the late 90s showed us how it was about the music more than the people that made it. We were thinking about AIDS and the Berlin wall and liberalization and MC Hammer's can't touch this. We didn't care about MC Hammer. Or Salt n Peppa even though we DID want to talk about sex. We had mullets and watched Lethal Weapon and got career oriented. Computers and Chris Gardner.

Since 2000, we are now very interested in the music we buy. When I say buy, I mean invest our attention in. It's 2010 now and twitter acts as a way for our celebrities to give us a glimpse of who they really are. Following someone on twitter and seeing what they write about (read: John Mayer) makes you feel like it's your facebook home page and Mr. Mayer is just another friend talking about his last trip to the doctor and everything is getting personal again. If we like and understand the artist, his music is definitely something we're going to put on our iPods and in our cars. And then there's another side to it. Like the Gorillaz. Hiding behind those animated characters makes us curious.

But then the music better be darn good if you're going to pull that off.

Anyway, my point is... I think you might want to explore indie as a cultural shift more than a genre. Is there really a distinction between indie and popular music?

Or maybe indie is a means to describe music made by artists who really are about the music more than the sales and the propaganda. Which translates loosely to everyone who doesn't work with Timbaland. I mean, the ones that do are still out to have fun but maybe the indie scene is more about the art-form than Sunset Boulevard.

Sometimes the two mix... but not as often as when indie music crosses into popular territory.

Salvation - Citizen Cope (21st May 2010)

If there's one song that has never failed to get me to cringe my eyebrows, nod my head from side to side and use my unfortunately un-melodic voice to sing almost as though all the pain and anguish in the world has finally been understood and accepted by one solitary soul, it's this.

"Since I was the age to speak, Haven't you been listening? Salvation. I'm calling. Salvation"

It is heavy, it is poignant, it is moving. It is everything music is supposed to be. Each chord and each painstaking syllable used by Clarence Greenwood's beautifully unique voice manages to stir and shake everything inside me.

"I'm downstairs on the Motorola. You know, I got 3 golden bullets and I'm shooting for your soul. Salvation. I'm calling. Salvation"

You don't need to understand it. You just know it's there.

Like the blonde-headed kid with a left handed guitar.

"His first shot grazed my eye

I lost half of my sight and my first born's life

Yeah, the second shot knocked off my guitar moon

And it made my guitar kind of play out of tune

But I just kept strumming like I had nothing to lose

He turned the third on himself

'Cause the bastard knew.

Salvation. I'm calling. Salvation"

Put the gun down. Put the gun down. Put the gun down. Put the gun down.

Dog Days Are Over (15th May 2010)

I love how my dog pretends to ignore it when I take his bowl into the kitchen to fix him his lunch.

He just sits and looks at me from the corner of his eye (and then immediately looks away if he can tell that I am watching him) as if to suggest that he is oblivious to what's going on. Then, as I mash up his food into the required consistency, he looks at me big-eyed and waits for me to bring his bowl back to its home.

I think he does it because he thinks each meal is even more exciting if it's a surprise. He's all about the happy, this dog. If he had it his way, nobody would ever go away and every door would always be open. But all he really wants is for someone to be around and occasionally give life to his worn out toys.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iWOyfLBYtuU&feature=fvst

Where Has My Coffee Been? (15th May 2010)

It's happening again. Time has lost its essence. The days are merging.

I was afraid of this. One minute you're sitting back watching reruns of popular sitcoms and the next minute... you're face down on the mattress while those popular sitcoms continue to play out their despicably fabulous existence. But wait, it isn't Tuesday any more. It's... WEDNESDAY.

How did I spend the last 24 hours?

WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE?

No need to panic. Ok. Regroup.

Day 7 of Isolation.

The past week has been a blur. The past hour is no different. I watch television with my glasses off so that when I fall asleep, the chances of me breaking them are exponentially reduced.

Things of significance: Iron Man 2, Party at Lonavala, Subway Visits. And sleep. But that's for my subconscious to decide.

Fast forward to Day 14.

I was unusually on edge today. But that was this morning.

A few more days of this imposed solitude and then back to regular-willingly-brought-upon solitude. I feel excessively comfortable lying on the cold floor with my eyes open.

The drive back from Bombay was an introspective one. (Couldn't be helped; my passengers were asleep!) "No need to get excited" the way Jimi Hendrix sings it, played over and over in my head. I need to write. So many ideas, so little time is usually the justification I give myself. But who am I kidding. I am fighting with my mind about whether sloth is actually a marketable quality.

I am the Steve Jobs of sloth. I need to get to know the things I know. I need to get coffee.

Can I Pet Your Wolverine? (21st April 2010)

(wrote this on the bus to bombay a few days ago. gotta love the blackberry)

Hello and welcome to the show. My glasses are off and I find all sorts of clarity in the blur. The guitar solo in freebird is on and playing in full volume in my head. Boofuckingya.

What is it that you want? Ok sorry, I don't mean to pressure you. What you want is personal. Purse Anal. Ok.

So the visuals in this country are amazing. Without a doubt. We have hills and shit, goddamnit. I don't know other countries well enough, though. I ought to.

I'd be lying if I didn't say money is posing itself troublesome. Why can't I hang for a bit?

What does it take to get a drink in this place?

Musicians and film makers are doing it right. Bill Hicks was too. Peace and love, y'all. P and L. RnR too. Respect and representation.

Hey-ee-ayyy. There's something very magical about the subconscious. Heck, I don't want to call it the subconscious. Why can't it be undefined? Like God and piousness. Or the length of your penis.

There's a tipping point somewhere in your mind and I feel like I'm tipping all over the place. It either means I'm doing something right or completely and utterly wrong. But then Superfast Jellyfish by the Gorillaz comes on and it re-affirms my belief in transitive meaning. All hail King Neptune and his water breathers. Don't waste time with your net, our net worth is set.
Gotta have it.