Monday, January 4, 2010

1... is a bad sample size

*Empty post - to remind me to write something here after a few years... It is an important incident that changed me and deserves documentation.

Silver thoughts

I was having this conversation with mom yesterday and as always it ended on a bitter note. The point of contention here was the process of arranged marriages.

It all started when she said, "I am worried about how to proceed with your sister's marriage. There is so much to do. Buy silver utensils.. and.." The last 3 words pricked me and I was lost in my thoughts. I pondered over the three words 'buy silver utensils' for a while and shot back at her, "Why do we need to buy silver utensils? What will sis do with it after her marriage?"

My mother looked surprised by that question and said nonchalantly, "Shiva, these are customs which should be followed". "Should be? Why?". Clearly, irritated by my questions she said calmly like a seasoned communications professional, "Shiva, you need to look at the world. Understand society. You need to move outside the four walls you've built within you and understand that society expects you to do these things."

I spent the next few hours thinking about what she said. I didn't see the correlation between my failure to understand the concept of buying silverware and my inward looking self.

For one, I don't believe in doing anything just because there are rules written by the society. I am not a rebel against norms. I just question these norms. I would rather redirect my resources to buying her non-stick cookware than invest money on silverware. (As i write this, I picture a "Shaadi ka mandap", a marraige hall stacked up with non-stick cookware.. and I burst out laughing... I then look around just to make sure that no one is looking at me...)

The conversation though had one good ramification. Thanks to it, I spent some time on researching if Silver was a good investment option. It is not. Sigh… it is a materialistic world we live in. :)

Friday, December 11, 2009

Magnificent India

While driving back home from the airport after a failed attempt to meet a long lost yet an absolutely irreplaceable friend, I heard a band on the radio. It was the Raghu Dixit Project. Absolutely awed by their performance on radio, I decided to attend their live concert later in the evening at Old Delhi fort. I raced back home, called a friend who agreed to accompany me and quickly grabbed a bite.

It was 7 PM and Delhi's roads were trying their best to emulate an automobile factory. Not an inch to move and noise levels at deafening decibels - only Delhites could survive the conditions.

In that commotion I spurted out, "Fcuk, India is magnificent!" and my friend who was battling the traffic screamed, "Are you fcuking crazy!"

Standing amidst chaos was a magnificent fort which I had seen at least a thousand times before but never had I noticed it. I was teleported to the times when this fort housed powerful kings. The lake besides the fort looked serene almost as if it was trying to blanket the scores of bloody wars that were fought on its banks.

The music was alien too. The Raghu Dixit project is music that I've never heard before. I was in a different world. The fort, the lake and soul searching music.

India is magnificent. India is colour. India is my tomorrow.

The battle between principles and needs

Why can't he get into a relationship with a let-me-see-if-it-works attitude? Why can't he be a bad ass? Why does he feel uneasy even at the slightest hint of deceit? What should he do when needs wage a war against principles?

Such questions constantly trouble Arun, who unknowingly inherited his father's ideologies. Is he too constrained by his beliefs? He hopes it is a phase, a phase that has lasted a little too long.

He can feel a change taking place in him but what that change is and in which direction is it leading him, he is still unsure. He hopes the change lets him become free, less tied by the code of conduct he himself chartered. He is stronger today but will this strength help him stifle that voice within that chants the words, "Cheater-Cheater!" at the slightest hint of fraud.

He hopes he was not a musician because music amplifies those chants. He hopes the world is just like him. He hopes everyone fought the same battle, the battle between principles and needs. It is lonely up here.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

Are you religious? Chances are you might end up in prison.

http://moses.creighton.edu/JRS/2005/2005-11.html
- Paper by Gregory S. Paul

Do people abstain from criminal activities because they fear god? Consequently, is religion or the concept of god good for the world?

While I was researching on this subject, I stumbled upon this paper that questions the primary argument put forward by theists - believing in a moral creator or god makes people better human beings.

This paper was published in the year 2005 by Gregory S. Paul. It establishes that in countries with more religious people, crime rates are higher. This has been observed even at a micro level. Regions where people visit the church/temples more have higher crime rates whereas countries with the maximum number of atheists are safer. Doesn't this imply a positive correlation between theism and crime.

I will pen down a few of my observations later and try to support this paper's outcome with my own hypothesis... i'm sleepy now.... zzzzzz...

Friday, November 20, 2009

My dad

After a lot of years, I finally have managed to say a few words, "amma" the first I believe. I look at these people around me and they all seem threatening and huge, and could use me as their pillow if they wished to. I am no one, just a piece of rock, lying around, wailing, desperate for food and for some warmth. I cannot even run from them if I want to.

Just then, I see that familiar face, smiling at me. I see those strong arms, arms as big as those of anyone around. I see those eyes that are telling me, son, you are safe. I am there to take care of you. You are not helpless, not lonely.

It is my father, my appa.

Sunday, July 5, 2009

Blinded by lights

Blinded by the city’s lights, we move on
Knowing little of the road ahead, just being led by someone
The stranger in the front has promised us satisfaction
We look at each other, smile and we move on.

The lights get brighter and it’s getting hard to see
I get curious and ask the stranger, “What is satisfaction… Sir?”
He looks back and gives me a liquid..“Drink it.”, he says
I believe this man, he’s rich, he must have his ways
Without thinking twice, I gulp it.. I’m here to stay!

The lights fade and truth a little more
But who cares, this is satisfaction, as the stranger says
The night does its trance while the world seems vague
We all flock together it is time to play

In that moment of blanketed closeness, I think about my past and the future
Little seems to make sense as I look at our usher.
I gather enough courage and ask the stranger again,
“Sir, where is satisfaction?” he smiles and says,
“It is time to go son. There is nothing more to play.”