Young Turks

Swami boards the train, and enters the reserved compartment to begin his journey. Its probably the first time he is travelling alone and towards an unknown destination.

His heart is a mix bag of feelings. He is excited to meet people and make friends while also being afraid of thieves and thugs. Part of him wants to meet the world with a guarded approach like a trained ninja moving forward, but his mannerism is so very open and maybe naive. He wants to unshackle the shy and introvert image and change into a seemingly cool persona of an outgoing, socializing and enterprising alpha. He believes in a world where ideas, behaviors and emotions are absolute. Clearly, he doesn't yet know his own self. He doesn't yet know the difference between his beliefs, strengths and fears. Time will tell, but today his eyes are gleaming with the hopes of an adventure, new friendships and a subtle fear of the unknown.

Swami gets to his berth and secures part of his luggage under the common space with a lock and chain. Shoes and back pack are stuffed together to serve as a pillow. Having secured his lock, stock and barrel, he pulls on his sheet and goes to sleep. There are disturbances and rowdy noises in the vicinity, some times far away and at times very close. They keep him uneasy, and scared in his sleep.

He looks at the nearby bunks, and soon discovers a bunch of equally nervous folks, just like him. They are all new in this journey of exploration, freedom and growth. But everyone has a slightly different character, while some seem to be outgoing and social, others are observers. There are potential leaders and some easy going folks. Then there are a few who can mesmerize an untrained mind with their conversational skills alone, only to be disillusioned from this charisma later. All sorts of variety is present around Swami. This wonderful collection is probably the most comprehensive sampling of all kinds of human minds in their formative stage. So much to learn and so many friends to make. And so many lessons, for life.

In this novel milieu, Swami makes a friend. The genesis of this friendship is the need for company against the unknowns, but the necessity soon develops into a true brotherly bond. Swami and Singh complement each other, one being the brain and calming voice in critical situations, the other being the group's quotient of free spirit and brawn, whenever needed :) They spend precious hours discussing their families, women, society and what not ! They often step up to the occasion in each other's defense or support, or to strategize their way out of sticky situations and thoughts. This bond is not just complementary, but also of mutual respect and unbreakable trust, something that will become legendary among this bunch of young minds. There will be other members of the group who will come very close but some how will fail the test of naivety among friends.

One night, Swami is woken up by a feeble voice. He opens his eyes and notices a beautiful silhouette politely asking him for help. She points towards the open window through which rain is pouring in. He is still drowsy and all he can sense is a female figure, with her feeble voice coming from deep space behind him, hard for him to comprehend. But his unconscious mind understands the gesture and the presence of a pretty girl. A smile automatically appears on his face with his eyes still half closed, and he pulls down the window. All this happens like a male with his hormones on auto-pilot, and Swami goes back to sleep.

He remembers the girl and finds her next day in the train. They make friends with each other, but break up bad soon enough. This is the first heart break and lasts the whole journey. The longing for her company won't go up until the end.

Days, months and years go by and many memories are made. Some painful, and some of little joys and triumphs. These are the makings of character and friendships more than any other formal learnings. Swami and Singh will stay together during thick and thin, repeating the daily routines of discussing each and every thought in a young man's mind. They will not leave any tangible mark in their social circles except that people will always talk of them as honest friends.

There will be a day when they will deboard this train and end their journey together. That day, this whole bunch would step out of this reserved but independent compartment of life and venture in a new world where reservations are to be made using your own skills, call it hard work, smart work or just talking your way in/out of a situation. The friendships will stay and memories cherished. Experiences with people will be carried forward and sub consciously applied to all the up coming human contacts, off course new experiences will refine them, for good or bad. But the forward motion will not stop. And they will never forget this journey !!

Defining Home, a subtle question about belonging ...

The question of belonging to a place or community has always perplexed me. What do we call 'Home': the place where we are born, where we work, or some point in the transit that soothes our senses and imagination and just stays on. About a month back, I had my first revelation in this idea during a casual discussion with a friend.

While the question of belonging is simple for some of us, maybe like my parents whose life revolves around three states of Northern India, it can puzzle the global citizens like folks of my generation. Time and again, we show our solidarity towards places where we were born or raised. These discussions would also give rise to certain feelings of regionalism. An example I experienced is that people like to share apartments only with others from their native cities/states, especially when they are in a foreign land. This makes sense to a certain extent that we want to preserve a comfort zone in this foreign land, but it conflicts with the ideas of an organic growth towards understanding new cultures. I am not imposing an opinion, but the greatest risk to the quality of human life is, not taking a risk altogether.

Among my countrymen, like religion, the definition of home is adopted by birth, not by choice or thought. I was lucky to live in different parts of the world in the past 15 or so years. Born and brought up in a small town of Haryana, called Yamuna Nagar, I moved to Chandigarh, Muthal(Sonipat), Pune, Kochi, Chicago and now the San Francisco Bay Area. Never stayed at a place for more than 4 years, but made friends and memories at all these places. While most of the memories were good, some are painful. Anyhow, I kept moving and enjoying the beauty and diversity on this planet. And no doubt, I wish to explore much more.

Every place has its specialties etched in my mind, like Chandigarh had its parks and well managed infrastructure but hardly any friendly faces(for me), Murthal was the anvil that forged some maturity into me, Kochi was the time of drunken revelry, free thinking of an unexperienced mind and a couple of impactful events, Chicago was a place of trials and triumphs. Its so hard to prefer one over the other. Neither do I want to settle down in any one place, when some thing inside me makes me realize that I have one life and I shall rather be a global citizen than to contain my mind in the idea of regionalism.

An interesting thought is, that 'Home is where the heart is'. Point in case, while places of high rises and fabulous infrastructures do excite, they cannot make some one happy over a longer period of time. It will be more like an infatuation that will wither off. Its the people or the moments that I recall in these places, rather than the grandiose of some of these cities.

This is an intermittent question that bothers my inquisitive mind and a restless soul. Maybe it will gain significance or it will just look like a thought on my blog, when I will revisit it in the future.

Happy goes to school ...

This is an excerpt from the life of Happy. Happy is a happy four year old tot. This is the age when a formally formatted education starts. It is the age when fun and adventure moves from the confines of a home, to the playgrounds and class rooms of a school.

Happy attends a school at some long distance from his home. This distance is covered in about twenty minutes involving a walk down the municipal park to the pick up spot where Munshi Ram, a rickshaw driver picks him up for the ride to school. Happy is woken up at 0630 hours so as to be ready for his walk by 0830 hours. As any usual kid, he has to be forced into the shower, cleaned, dried, dressed up and then fed in these two hours. This is a daily arduous task cut out for his Mother. Happy gets a 'bit' oily and well set in hairdo with side partition, like Toby Maguire of spider man fame. He has absolutely no doubt that it is a very uncool hairdo for this century. But Happy doesn't have so many options, given 1. the number of hair on his head and, 2. some how his Mother finds it  better than the rather bizarre hair styles prevalent among his friends.

Then comes the walk down the municipal park. Inquisitive Happy finds the park very exciting. He has been coming here since he was an infant, and no bird, squirrel, worm, puddle of water ever misses from his attention. Happy gets tempted to step into the puddles, but he has to be very careful so that Mother doesn't notice. Every minute detail of this path is known to him and his excited mind keeps on probing deeper. He sees the birds sitting on the trees, knows a family of cats that live in a corner and follow him some times. Some times there are tennis balls that were lost in the bushes from previous evening's cricket matches. Those are prized catches. They are to be shown off at the school among friends.

Again, as any usual kid, he has an affinity to worms. The other day when Mother came across an Aunty from the neighborhood  Happy took on the opportunity to follow an earthworm. He got his hands and knees dirty and had to be pulled away from the terrified being, like a sniffing dog unwilling to let go. He got slapped on his back for making himself dirty and couple of tears rolled down his eyes. He felt ashamed and humiliated in front of an Aunty. The moment was terrible but soon he let it go when he was allowed to chase away a squirrel.

Munshi Ram's rickshaw is a bit over crowded but he packs the kids in the small space very efficiently. There are hooks on the outer walls to hang school bags. This makes the packed vehicle look over flowing. The yellow colored fragile vehicle is powered by an equally fragile Munshi Ram, who should be in his fifties. About five minutes before the school comes an uphill section of the road. This is beyond Munshi Ram's strength and he has to put some kids out of the rickshaw and make them push. Kids make fun of the old man. These are young fellows who barely know their own age, so the elderly driver does not bother. Very diligently, he stops the rickshaw after the uphill, and packs the kids back in. Some times, a fight breaks up among the kids and some times they laugh at their own stories like knowledgeable adults. The rickshaw is late to the school almost every day, and Munshi ram makes excuses to the Principal ma'am.

Then starts the school which is equally adventurous.

Days and months and years will pass and these kids will grow to be adults. They will be free to wake up at their own schedules, try their own hair styles. Wisdom and longing will make them respect the poor rickshaw driver's fragility  Some will even miss him. Inquisitiveness of the smallest things in nature will be lost. Busy schedules will take away the joys that are filled in the air by Mother Nature. There's an amazing lot to be learnt from the kids and their lives.

Baaz ki Parwaaz

Sun has just set on this hot summer day and the scarlet of  distant horizon is quickly fading away. Its been long since Parvez has been in flight. The weary eagle looks around for shelter and some rest. There is no greenery around, only shrubs remain on the banks of a parched pond. Parvez pumps up the last ounces of energy into his wings and after a couple of powerful flaps, the bird swoops down on a lone dried up tree. The tree seems like a skeleton of its glorious past when water from the pond nourished its roots and green leaves covered its branches. Although, now its fortunes have dried with the pond.

This will be the lonesome inn for Parvez, our wandering golden eagle. Parvez does not know the new landscape. He has wandered away from his nest and is lost, but being lost is his nature and it does not scare him. His eyes are sad and pensive over the disillusionment in his clan. Sky is now covered in the dark of night with bright stars gleaming all over. Wind is warmer and much more pleasant, as if Mother Nature has decided to make his sleep a bit comfortable. Parvez hasn't found his answers nor his peace, but his eyes close and the mortal self goes to rest.

Warm wind sings a lullaby, although his mind is restless even in sleep. It is playing tricks on Parvez, taking him places and reliving those short memories, bitter, sweet and sometimes confusing. Parvez is young, thoughtful and full of questions, not just the usual inquisitiveness of a growing mind but even the disturbing truths of life attract him. He was known in his clan to be the sensitive and ambitious one. The one who doesn't like to give up on a fallen friend. Two golden eagles fly overhead. They notice him, but soon disappear. They are his brothers. For a moment, his mind fills with hope of re conciliation and  joy of receiving the brothers. But his innocuous ambitions and sensitivities are too fool hardy for them. Their disappearance just re iterates to him that he is alone in the moment.

One of Parvez's curious obsessesions involve the Sun. For him, Sun is a distant bird that rises in east and nests across the western horizon. Its disciplined journey from east to west has elevated it to Godhood among the earthly creatures. Its fiery wings inspire awe in Parvez's heart. They can provide warmth or burn him in hell's fires at will. For him, the Sun is a symbol of wisdom, energy and longevity. He wants to meet the Sun to learn secrets of life and Mother Nature. It may very well be the answer to his questions, at least the quest gives him some peace.

Parvez fantasizes flight over beautiful lands with a mysterious mate. They fly over vast stretches of rivers, oceans, mountains and plains, overseeing the beauty of Earth and hunting at will. This sight fills his heart with comfort. At the same time, he ponders over the purpose to his life, his mad desire to meet the Sun God and stumbles on an inevitable puzzle. What's greater, to fulfill the meaning of his life or the desire of companionship. He realizes that the ambitions and the quests will be far more comfortable and endearing when he finds a companion, who shares his vision.

Parvez's heart goes out to his friends who were left behind and could not fly so far away with him. They were just as bright and ambitious as him and together they had seen dreams to capture the whole world in their eyes. He realizes life is cruel at times and he ought to value each moment and each ounce of energy in him.

Parvez opens his eyes at the crack of dawn. The lullaby of warm wind has somewhat relaxed his hurt and pain. His mind is filled with his Mother's wisdom, as she once taught him not to emulate the world when it is unfair with him, but to carry on his quests with faith in his destiny and an honest heart. Parvez looks around and renews his flight, like a resurrected phoenix.

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Coutesy: This story is my humble literary manifestation of the mythical bird, Phoenix. Inspiration to write this piece came about 6 months back upon hearing the beautiful composition "Ujale Baaz" by Indian band Agnee. Please watch the song (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6UVUHQ8NE90), as it is much better than what you just read.

Untitled Confusion

There is something that needs to be said, something that needs to be heard or lets say something that needs to be discussed. Don't know where to start. I don't have metaphors to veil my real question and story. Writing has helped me relax by putting my thoughts on paper(electronic) and sharing it with the world. Its funny, people may read and appreciate, but hardly anyone gets to the source of inspiration. Some just don't feel like comprehending the metaphors and buy the story at its face value, others try but give up soon on cracking a shy writer's secret world.
Probably just like Forrest Gump.

the Chicago Post - moving on

This is probably the last in the series of Chicago Posts, from this blog. Chicago Posts were meant to be another feature in this blog, not very dominating, but recurring time and again as my understanding of this city. And as per my idiosyncratic indiscipline, I forgot this feature almost all together. So, as today, when I feel a sudden surge to write down some thing, I chose my Chicago Post, to revive and to probably put it to rest at the same time.

After exactly 3 years, its time to say Good Bye to this beautiful city. I shall be moving to California in middle of August to take up a new job.Life at Chicago was very different from Kochi. Essentially there were two elements to my tangible self, academics and small support jobs. Both equally necessary and I am glad to have survived. I can now understand what is meant by a fast life. Managing time between work, study and ambitions leaves only so much for family, friends and emotions. you tend to define/redefine the concepts like purpose of life, settlement and satisfaction. Crazy and definitely not a very health scheme of things. Anyways, so much for the stupid innocuous feelings.

I think I will miss this city. Can't exactly say what part of it I like the most but it is an important part of my sojourn. Your identification with your city or school runs deep in US. So, Chicago is my home town in US. A home away from home.

Although there was some void, I hope I will find that self. I shall come back again. ... sometime around Aug 15, 2011...

...now completing on Jul 7, 2012...

Some of the endearing moments at Chicago were from Apartment 1602. All the guys there were like friends. Those crazy drinking sessions, spitting in the pool, Amit and Chandu's gossip, Deb and Pranil as confidants, Santosh and Ashwin as two younger brothers and the studious drunkard Sebastian :)
Also, lots of free food at Padma's place and Diwali celebrations mostly to invite all the girls.

Fearing Holli at the Grad College and surprisingly doing good at exams. I will always remember the  old school Professor Reingold and be grateful for having a chance to take lessons from him. Asst. Professor Raicu and so many other people are the highlight of my stay at Chicago. This list can go on and on and on...

Maybe I did not enjoy the city, as in its restaurants, museums, festivals so much, given my financial constraints at that time, but so many people have made Chicago as one of the most memorable places for me.
Love you , Chi Town !

the Banyan Tree...

Once upon a time, there was a five year old. Let's call him 'Swami'.

Swami was a shy kid, quite unlike his friends at the school. Bright at studies, laggard at sports, he was an exceptionally disciplined child seldom to cause any mischief, and a twinkle in the eyes of his parents. At school, he would hang around with a group of three close friends. He would go back home and tell tales of his day to his Mother. There will be stories about how the class went into an uproar as soon as the teacher left the room, how two guys fought over their seats and all the boys joined the fight, how they ran around the school in the lunch break and how the (much adored) Gandhi ma'am brought order back to the class. Mother would listen patiently and dole out good advise to her son.

Today, Swami and his friends have planned hide and seek around the new construction area of the temple, close to the school. Its just about time to go home but the boys want to play one last time before the school bus arrives. There is something innocent about Swami that he always gets chosen to be the seeker in this game.(Probably, these are personality traits that become visible quite early in our lives :)) So, the deal is that the seeker has to close eyes and wait behind the 'Huge Banyan Tree' near the temple till the friends hide themselves. Banyan trees are sacred to the Hindus and the religious folk come to it in the morning to tie around strings. But the kids have their own fantasies about the strings and the tree. They rumor about witches that live on the top of this huge tree and how they come down in the evening. So, the tree stands for suspense, rumors and fear in these young minds, but if you are a seeker, you need to wait right at the tree. Thats a rule!

Its been quite some time but no one has called Swami to open his eyes. He opens one eye and tries to peek around. He gets a strange feel about it. His friends are not in sight and the red brick building of the school seems to have gone farther, in distance. Swami opens his eyes and calls out the names of his friends. He calls once in a whisper, second time in a cautious overtone and then he looks around in the moonlit landscape to find himself at some deserted outskirts of the city. The stars are shining intermittently amidst the monsoon clouds but the city lights are far away.

A careless gust of summer wind blows around some dry leaves and brings the 'Huge Banyan Tree' back to his conscience. Swami turns around and the tree leaves now seem to be singing in the wind. The sheer size of the tree and the darkness under its aerial prop roots inspire awe, and the kid runs to safety. Swami hides himself behind an abandoned, incomplete structure, something resembling an old temple. Suddenly, there is a thunder bolt and slowly and surely the monsoon starts to pour down. The poor little kid is now wet and afraid. He huddles in a corner trying to get away from the downpour, but in vain.

This is the moment when our boy breaks down in tears and cries out loud for Mother, and friends. He has no idea how he has been abandoned by the school bus and his friends. He mumbles out stupid innocuous stuff. He looks towards the dark image of the tree with the emotions of a frightened lamb. Instantly, there is another thunderbolt and he moves his eyes around. He can barely stop his tears, remembering how Mother asks him to be brave. One more flash of lightning and he sees another frightened huddled figure in a corner of the ruined building.

The unknown companion crawls up to Swami and sits by him. Two is better than one. Soon the rain stops and eases the horror of the ghostly night. “Who are you? What are you doing here?” asks Swami. “I am Tanya. I am trapped in this temple by the witch of the 'Huge Banyan Tree'”. “I am Swami. How did you come here?” retorts Swami. “I used to play hide and seek with my friends and one day the witch put me to sleep while I was the seeker. Before I could wake up, my friends were gone.”, replies Tanya. The story explains to Swami, what went wrong with his game!

“Do you go to school?” asks an inquisitive Swami. “I am in second class!”, says Tanya. “I am in first !” retorts Swami and a smile breaks on both the faces. Its quite easy to make friends for those who reason less and then, two people in the same boat tend to understand each other well. Swami and Tanya start talking and the night passes on. The conversation starts with the witch. “The witch comes down in the night to eat up humans but she has to hide back in the leaves in the day, as it cannot bear the energy of the sun”, explains Swami. He also tells that the witch would be a dark-slimy-old-fat woman with a crooked nose and flies on a broom. Tanya is amazed at the detail of his knowledge and soon they both start planning how to survive the night. Swami says he will go back to home as soon as the day breaks but Tanya does not share any plans. Their whispers have grown audible and are filled with occasional chuckles. Both share stories about their class mates and friends and have soon grown fond of each other.

Suddenly, the tree starts to make noise, the leaves are falling and squirrels flee, as if running for their lives. The kids notice this rumble and stumble, and fall silent and huddled in their corner. Swami raises his hand reassuringly towards Tanya, playing brave for the moment. In fact, braver than he actually is! They look from behind the corner of a wall as the witch comes down the tree. She is dark and slimy but rather young and slim. So, Swami is proven half right but actually, half wrong as well and it depends on Tanya how she sees it. Further, the witch is wearing a black overcoat with a hood, her eyes are big, shiny, beautiful but her nose is long and crooked. And yes, she carries a long broom.

The witch sniffs for food and moves around her head angrily. Then, she smashes a rat with her broom and almost brings death to the poor lad. She looks closely at the rat who lies on the ground flat on the four legs. Disappointed at the tiny catch, she vents her anger at the prey as she plucks a hair from its mustache. The rat comes to life and cries out loud. The witch smiles and then break into a thunderous laughter at the poor rat's misery. What happens next is something that Swami may not forget for his life. The rat cries out,”Why do you eat a poor rat when you can feast on humans!”. “I will torture you if you lie, you scoundrel!”, retorts the witch. “I swear upon my life, they are hiding behind the walls of the temple”, points the rat. The witch swoops down towards the temple wall and checkmates the kids in their hiding place.

This is called 'Fear', in its purest form. Swami is standing next to the awe inspiring brutal villain, that he always talked about(and sometimes drew pictures) but never had imagined a rendezvous. The sheer magnitude of the moment has him frozen and fear seeps in his skin after a momentary pause. She touches his face with her slimy hands and just brings him into submission. There is no crying but the eyes tell it all. But then, she moves towards Tanya and begins shouting at her, “I told you to catch rats and squirrel for my dinner. Seems like you are clumsy or else too weak. Now, I shall prey on you”.

Petrified but still brave, Tanya decides to make a run for her life. She pushes her hunter and attempts to flee. The witch stumbles and falls down. Swami grabs his moment and runs in the opposite direction. He stops momentarily behind some overgrown wild grass and looks around. The witch is following Tanya and he fears she would catch up with her. The injured rat has also grabbed his opportunity to flee for his life. Swami ponders if he shall try to save Tanya or shall he continue the opposite direction. Moments pass by and the fear turns into inaction, and inaction is further accepted as an uncomfortable but unchangeable situation of the weak. He runs his way, slows down occasionally to look around but carries on.

Swami keeps running as a tear rolls down his eyes. He hits a stone and falls down and the next moment he is sitting in his bed in the pajamas. Swami barely knows how to read the clock but he understands that its some where close to midnight. Stars shine bright outside the window but the lad does not want to sleep anymore. He thinks the witch may come back. But more than anything else, he feels sorry for his friend and sits close to the window staring outside, longing to meet his friend or somehow make up for his mistake.