Lesser mortals

When asked to drop them for the vittaldas bhajan I shrugged a bit and then agreed to, and ended up sitting through it. It was not my kind of thing to be doing- or so i thought. I felt external manifestation of devotion is a farce, till I realized that it was the safest thought to help lead a selfish life without being accused of irreverance or blasphemy. I still do not buy the logic behind some orthodox beliefs and practices in the name of god. But at the same time, I have grown to realise that I have been taking Him for granted. One should either be an atheist or a believer and there are no two ways about it. Seeking His help when need be and assuming that the other conscious acts of sin during the 'not so needy' times will be pardoned, shows how small a man can be ... and yet he is forgiven. I have been attending the morning Harinamasankeertanams - bhajan like (for those who are not aware of the terminology) during the December music season at Chennai. What began as an involuntary participation turned out to be quite blissful as time passed. I still dont believe the thousands who gather there, physically absolved of all dirt, are pure at heart or even anywhere close to it. But when He (vittaldas), not a singer from any plausible angle, renders some pieces and has the crowd rechanting the same after him, he sure does make an impact on even the least mortals sitting out there, pretending to not be affected by the ambience- like me. For that 60 odd mins, the world around me seemed like ether. No sooner did I proclaim staunch disbelief in such public devotional discourses than I realised my lips had already started singing after him. I am not pious.. I dont think I will ever be.

I dont know what reason each one has to offer when they gather there at 6am every morning. For me, its simple. When I sing aloud along with the million others, I feel I vent out all my sadness, happiness, frustration, pain .. joy.. no matter whatsoever. Amidst the crowd I enjoy my solitude. I do not know what bhakti means to others. For me it is starting to define a new trajectory. The more I spend time in such activities, the more i start respecting my inner conscience. Sometimes I feel I should stop it, for I have started to fear my inner conscience. Dont really have the guts to take it 'for granted' anymore. I have been selfish all through. I still am.

Following has been borrowed from another source:

'the only kingdom that runs on right and wrong is the kingdom of heaven and the kingdoms of the earth run on oil.To know the truth is one thing. To live it ..to create the kingdom of heaven on earth is another. How many times in a man's life does he do things that are repulsive to his morality in order to exist? How I have admired those few men in this world who would stand up for their convictions in the face of shame, torture and even death. What a wonderful feeling of inner peace they must have. Something that we ordinary mortals can never have.'

RIP

Just felt like writing this.

I don’t know if it was their fault or the lorry driver’s fault . or was it just fate that it had to happen… I don’t want to sound like a nanny by writing what I am going to write below.

All of us have been there.. done that. Those rides.. that speed.. the josh the ripping and racing. Probably it was the age.. or no matter anything for that matter. Not that we are any older now. Just that we don’t get the time and chance to do many things we did some time back. The impulse to just go on a long at the wee hours.. the impulse to rip it – just because you felt like it- the impulse to touch the 3 digit in the speedometer… the impulse to just try out something that your heart says… the impulse to listen to the heart over mind. We were glad we did it. We were glad we listened to the heart because we lived to experience it and cherish it later on. Had it been otherwise… you never know.

I still am one of those impulsive natured people… do it because I feel like it. But I am starting to realize.. that may be sometimes in life we need to learn to put a speed breaker.. we need to realize what’s really worth it and what’s not. Guess its time we start valuing our lives and start loving it. because its not just our lives that we risk by being adventurous, its all the effort put in by our near and dear ones into our upbringing. We put so much at stake.. so many people’s happiness at stake by doing something that we feel is cool and out of the box. We can be adventurous, but not beyond a point where we blind ourselves to reality. Personally I feel it’s cool to drive by myself when the office offers a cab facility after I work late hours. I feel it’s cool to just go on a long after a sleepless night and keep going, oblivious to your destination and return back on the same day not realizing it might take a toll on your system. Sometimes when there is already a warning about the weather, I feel it’s cool to take a plunge in the ocean or risk the rains in the dark. Sometimes when I see the green arrow slowly fading into the amber ball, I feel the urge to rip it and make it before the amber turns red. All, or at least most of us would’ve felt similar things and done similar stuff.

These incidents happen. They shall pass. We shall return to our original state of bliss in no time. Not that we forget them but we don’t learn from them.

When our parents or any others prevent us from doing something, I know we feel so cocooned and so damn tied up. May be they do it for a reason. It’s probably because they value all the time effort energy and love that they have invested over these years. Let’s start valuing it before it’s too late. It’s not a big thing to do. It’s not a mammoth task. All we need to do is to love ourselves more . . . because when we do that we value everything associated with us.

By refraining from doing whacky stuff there is no guarantee that things will change. There is always ‘fate’ and ‘destiny’ to blame when some things beyond our control happen. It’s the safest haven that most of us resort to when things don’t happen the way we intend them to. But we can always try. We can think twice .. just twice before we do something. All we need to do is convince ourselves that what we do is really worth it. If there is a safer and better option , go for it. Remember, we are not chickens just because we choose not to be impulsive.

After one such incident 2 years before I decided not to do risky things… but the decision was short-lived. This time again, it comes as an indirect message to me and many others who were and are spared of such tragedies. I have not made a decision or resolution yet. I do not want to make any. I just hope my mind wins over the heart the next time life poses a chance or opportunity. Because it’s very easy to sit inside the safe protected walls and make resolutions. When the real moment arrives, all of us are driven by temptation and desire. I hope I’ll love myself to the extent that I don’t risk it for the so-called dares that chance might pose. We have all been amazing creatures so far. That many lives become miserable in our absence stands testimony to the statement. Let’s not be selfish.

‘When I was 20, I thought my mother knew nothing, when I turned 26 I was stunned to see the amount she had learnt in the last few years”

Screw the driver

I attended 2 weddings and one 60^th wedding last weekend. I was arguably the only one of my age group in the weddings (barring the first circle relatives). I tried proving the point to my amma that these occasions are not for me to attend and its for them (the married lot).I had to make her understand that I am not being disrespectful if I don’t attend such boring gatherings .. in which case she concluded that my generation is such and I shouldn’t be following suit.She was trying to put across the point that only if I attend such gatherings will I find a nice groom. Unfortunately - I am being found by the groom’s parents and my parents don’t share the same luck as none of the prospects are as jobless as I am. That deprives me of the little possible NSP's (Nayan sukh praapthi). And I would definitely not pick my groom by looking at his parents.

The worst of the lot – All the oldies who are too sick and tired of life and depressed over the lack of importance given in their respective families find solace in such gatherings where I am being made to sit amidst all of them and render divine classical compositions. Actually this is not the worst thing. Rather, I like doing it. At least I am of some use. Probably this is the only sensible thing I could be doing in such gatherings. The older lot is much safer than the prying eyes of the middle aged.

I have decided. I am going to teach my father to drive the car. I usually dislike the concept of multiple handling of a single vehicle. But I guess I must resign to it now. For I shall be spared of a few such occasions in future which I am not now as I am the only driver. Lord!!!!! I badly need a screwdriver- to fix things :P

Home or away - the grass is always greener

.. the feeling of getting up at 8 in the morning.. not knowing what or where to eat.. and whether to eat or not.. the feeling of just going out at 10 for a walk with someone or no one at all. The feeling of going somewhere.. deciding whether to return or not. The feeling of deciding to watch the silliest of movies.. at the oddest of hours. ..the feeling of being clumsily clad and running out of clothes to wear.. the feeling of satisfaction when you refrain from choosing a wrong path when you very well know that the choice is all yours and there is nothing or rather no one to fear..the feeling of sitting for late hours at work simply because there is no work at home.. but it goes into the good books of the boss who thinks you like being at work.. the feeling of opening your eyes in the morning only when you feel like.. the feeling of making new friends, (purely because there is no one else).. and loving every moment of being with this newly made friend very well knowing that this will last only till either of you decide to shift the job…the feeling of being single.. the joy of solitude which drives you crazy at times.. the feeling of planning a weekend trip to the Mars or Venus.. finally… the feeling of actually planning to go back home to visit the family.. which would seem so much more fonder than what is the case with familiarity.

I miss 'em all.

(No body stops me from doing any of the above now, but I just don't 'feel' like it ......)

Bloodventurous

Hope you are not in the same 'well' as I am. My boss treated us for his first anniversary today. On my way back I saw this board on my company building lift 'Blood donation camp at Flowserve office 3rd floor' . Like a noble soul I entered the office and got my self declared fit to go ahead. I created a raucous as usual on seeing the size of the needle. Looked like a veterinary needle. I felt the blood drain out of my body and slowly started getting weak. After the show was over I was served some apple juice and bananas. Before I could figure out if it was banana or something else the world was spinning around me I fell flat on the floor. I don't remember what happened after that. When I woke up I saw myself lying on a vague bed on the floor amidst Flowserve employees glued to their desktops oblivious to the poor soul which ought to have been slogging in the 8TH floor inside the Irevna office. I saw some lady doctors asking if I was fine and I proudly replied that I was perfect. It was the sheer embarrassment and I so badly wanted to transform myself into a bee and fly to my floor. No sooner was I up on my feet than the blood refused to reach my brain and I was thrown into the unconscious mode again. My BP was 80/60 and my pulse wouldn't improve. I was so full after the chocolate truffle and paneer tikkas in the treat but the doctors refused to believe it. I was forced to gulp a couple of bananas and 'maa' apple juice. It was quite a day for the hapless Flowserve employees. Thank god I was in a salwar today. Else I would've had many more helper boys around. After yet another unconscious phase I woke up with a halo of enlightment light. This time I thought I would just leave the place without attracting attention. I walked towards the door and I tried hard to place my hands on the handle bar, but I felt so stoned. It was all there but i couldn't grab it. I again woke up , but this time there were no stares. Probably the employees were immune to my momentary hibernation modes. I had the lady doctors sitting around me trying to motivate my blood pressure to rise. And slowly my pulse improved and my BP rose. It was the best motivational speech ever. I could feel the blood gushing into my head. This time I was brewing with confidence and energy. I had to, for I was the first to lie on the bed and last to leave the venue. The camp beds and equipments were removed and the office was back to work. I had to flee from that floor and couldn't wait for the lift to come to the third floor.The donation certificate was the last thing I wanted. I climbed to the fourth floor and took the lift from there to the 8th floor. I felt so relieved. I was seeing my colleagues after ages. Nobody seemed to have even noticed my absence. Nevertheless, I was alive and strong.
After a long weekend, I decided to work sincerely. Man can only propose.

I am advised to eat properly and rest. Good night.

:P

Why does it always rain on me

Am at my ebb. Dunno what has led me to this trough. I have never felt less confident ever before. Whatever I do turns out to be wrong. What seems insignificant to me catches the wrong eye. Winning constantly makes a person so alien to disappointment and defeat. I am finding a source of motivation to start a new day and the search seems to last for eternity. This probably is God's way of conveying that vantage is ephemeral. But do I really have to prove myself to anyone? It is yet to dawn and I shall wait. At the end of the day 'The winner takes it all'.

Vietnamese?.... merci bien

I have to share my experience over the phone with a Vietnamese guy. I called the Ministry of Finance of Vietnam regarding the information that I required for a world bank report. I was surprised they actually responded and gave me the cell number of the person in charge for Finance. The first call was to the receptionist (invariably a lady) who seemed to understand my accent. She couldn’t understand the word mutual and asked me to explain the meaning. Imagine – explaining the word mutual to a Vietnamese in Indian English. Thankfully she realized she was the wrong person and directed me to another guy. This time she had to spell out numbers and hence the job wasn’t very difficult. But took her ten minutes to make me understand how to dial this number and what codes to use. Nevertheless was not a bad encounter.

Now comes the most hilarious phone call in my lifetime. This guy called Kiem (khhhhaaayyyiieem .. they pronounce it. Initially I felt he was sneezing at me) picks up the phone. He was pleased to be talking to an Indian (which took me 5 mins to convey). I never tried to make him understand my name. He somehow conveyed to me that he was out of office and wanted me to send him a mail with the required data points. He said “hwaaangteeeekhyaaam@ mooov. Gooof.vveeyen” ..@#!$@$%#$%#$ Wished outlook had sound recognition system to type in mail IDs. Then I resorted to the Hari Saadhu style.

H for hongkong

O for ok

Aaai for iiishiahds (thought he said “I”)

M for member (it was actually N for number)

G for juuuuddd (he was happy with G for God finally)

T for Tea (t for t.. I kept asking t for.. t for… not realizing t for tea)

I for India

E for egg

T for T

K for kong in the hongkong

I for India

E for egg

M for money @mof.gov.vn

Now that was his name. 30 mins exactly on my watch. And 10 pairs of eyes staring at me in the floor.

After all this I had to call him once again as this was a wrong ID. Huh. He was damn kind and laughed out loud in the end. The third letter AAAI was actually A.

Huh, our cross cultural mgt classes should’ve had such sessions. Then I broke my head whether to write Dear Mr.Kiem / Hi Mr.Kiem/ Mr.Kiem/ Mr Haongtietkiem..

Now if I don’t get a reply from him… God save me.