2:62-63...

Source

While contemplating the objects of the senses, a person develops attachment for them, and from such attachment desire develops, and from desire anger arises.

From anger, delusion arises, and from delusion bewilderment of memory. When memory is bewildered, intelligence is lost, and when intelligence is lost, one falls down again into the material pool.

आम आदमी...

बेमकसद हौसले, लापरवाह कदम
बेवजह शिकवे, बेपनाह बेकार ग़म |

अधपके कुछ ख्याल, आधे अधूरे कुछ ख्वाब
कुछ कर गुज़रने की तलब, मगर वहम बेहिसाब |

भीड़ में खोया हुआ चेहरा, वही जाने पहचाने कुछ राज़
फ़िजूल सोच, सस्ती जिंदगी, ख़ुद ही से नज़रंदाज़ आवाज़ |

मैं - एक आम आदमी
मेरी आखें कभी देखना बंद नहीं करतीं
अंधेरे में भी मुझे मेरा अक्स दिखता है
रौशनी कभी मेरी रूह को छू भी नहीं पाती
और मैं ख़ुद की परछाइयों से डरता हूँ |

think different...

the heart sutra...

stray thoughts...

It's been a while. I had nothing to say. I was listening. And observing. As if out of some divine order, I was supposed to just listen and observe. Mind didn't have enough space to think and speak out or write. For a change (for better), I can say I was busy listening.

Watching the world through my eyes, understanding through my experiences and expressing through my opinions, I had had enough of it. Well, everyone thinks - what he says, thinks or does is right. And he will do anything, fabricate any reason to justify the righteousness of his words, thoughts and actions. But then suddenly some day, something changes when you look at the world from inside someone else and you find that it's a completely different place. Strange place.

I had had my views and my opinions. I wanted to see someone else's views and understand someone else's opinions. But could do only the first part. Was too arrogant to accept or perhaps even understand the other half. Well, it's not enough to know what a person thinks. What makes that person think that way, where are those thoughts arising from, what is the source of those ideas - without knowing answers to these, understanding is not complete.

People disagree even though they are right. People agree even though they are wrong. We often misunderstand different points of view as disagreement, a scalene geometry of thoughts - incompatible. Thinking 'in' different directions and thinking 'from' different directions are two different things. Thinking in different directions broadens the horizons of thought, and thinking from different directions strengthens the base of an idea. Now whether this is a strength or weakness really depends on how the formula is applied.

It's instinctive trying to possess something dear. Letting go is tough, when time snatches it away from you. That's the test of large hearts - how much, how big, how dear they can let go without getting bothered. The cliche goes 'Rich is he who has nothing to lose' - theoretically. But we all have something dear which we never want to lose - a person, an idea, a place or a laptop or an iPod or even our lives. Divided into these things, people, places and ideas - we cannot let go and it's hard for us to recover from their loss, which is the inevitability time makes us confront one day or the other.

book meme...

Moi take on Booking Through Thursday's book meme:

What was the last book you bought?

The Devil Drives by Fawn Brodie.

Name a book you have read MORE than once.

Hmmm! (thinking) Zen in the Martial Arts by Joe Hyams.

Has a book ever fundamentally changed the way you see life? If yes, what was it?

Fountainhead by Ayn Rand.

How do you choose a book? e.g. by cover design and summary, recommendations or reviews.

Recommendations mostly!

Do you prefer Fiction or Non-Fiction?

Used to love fiction once. But now more into non-fiction.

What’s more important in a novel - beautiful writing or a gripping plot?

Gripping plot.

Most loved/memorable character (character/book).

Howard Roark. (not loved but memorable!)

Which book or books can be found on your nightstand at the moment?

The Devil Drives by Fawn Brodie.
The Death of Inflation by Roger Bootle.
The World is Curved by David Smick.

What was the last book you’ve read, and when was it?

The Age of Kali by William Dalrymple, a few weeks ago.

Have you ever given up on a book half way in?

I think! Errrr! I have given up almost every book halfway. :(

मंजिल...

वो मंजिल
जिसके लिए तुम जी रहे हो
हर रोज़, हर घड़ी
हर कदम, हर साँस
उसकी तरफ़ बढ़ रहे हो |

जिसके लिए तुमने अपना सब कुछ
दांव पर लगा छोड़ा है
जिसकी आरज़ू में जितना भी
तुम तड़प रहे हो थोड़ा है |

वो मंजिल
जो तुम्हें तुम्हारी सरहदों से
बहुत दूर खींच लाई है
जिसने तुम्हें दौड़ाया ज़्यादा
मगर प्यास कम बुझाई है |

नींद से जागो, आखें खोलो
और ज़रा देखो के वो मंजिल ख़ुद
कई रास्तों में उलझी हुई
किसी और मंजिल को ढूँढ रही है |

ज़रा ठहरो, ज़रा साँस लो, ज़रा समझो
जो भी रास्ता तुम चुनोगे
जिस भी ओर तुम बढोगे
वो मंजिल तुम्हारे साथ आएगी |

face it...

you think you can escape
just run away
from all this pain
and it will go away?
you think there is a place
home, or somewhere
where you can feel safe?
you think there is someone
who can always keep you safe?

wake up,
if you cultivate your weaknesses
fear is what you will reap
there is no way out of it
but yes, sometimes
there is a way through it

and, if you want to be fearless
first give up your weakness!

शब्द...

शब्दों को मत पढो
शब्दों के पीछे
छुपे हुए इंसान को देखो
वो किस तरह
टूटता जुड़ता गिरता संभलता
एक शब्द बना है, उसे समझो

शब्दों की कड़वाहट
शब्दों की मिठास
शब्दों की घबराहट
शब्दों की प्यास
कच्चे पक्के शब्द
अच्छे बुरे शब्द
कहे अनकहे शब्द
भूले हुए और
भुला न सकने वाले शब्द

सभी,
जीवन का एक गुज़रा हुआ क्षण थे
जो आया और चला गया
मगर अपने पीछे इन शब्दों को छोड़ गया
जिन्हें तुम आज देख रहे हो |

भ्रम की खोज...

शून्य के अथाह आकाश को
अस्तित्व के धरातल से जोड़ता
समय का धुन्दला क्षितिज
एक भ्रम
और इस भ्रम के ऊपर खिंची
हर पल बदलती कुछ रेखाएं
जिन्हें मनुष्य ने जीवन का अर्थ समझा और
सब कुछ भुला कर वह निकल पड़ा
क्षितिज का पीछा करते हुए
धुएँ से लिखे एक अर्थ की खोज में |

arrogance of an egotist...

Disclaimer: Ideas presented are personal and prone to changes.

In an ordinary day, when emotions are dull, instincts are blunt and senses are over or underused, we are headed straight towards self destruction. We are afraid of being alone, we think that we are the unimportant footnotes of life, but still we isolate ourselves from the outer world thinking we are different from others. All the desires, all the ambitions to raise ourselves from this life of continuous suffering are hollow. Something more fundamental, very basic is missing in our existence. Dreams of attaining absolute freedom, economic independence are nothing but illusions of a mistaken identity. Not a single moment is passing without this perpetual emotional tumult, this agony of making simple life choices.

What is our life anyway. We are one among hundreds of thousands of ordinary people like us who are a mere vulgar accident of evolution. World doesn't need us and in all probability doesn't want us. We need the world for ourselves to survive. We are the disposable samples of humanity which world uses everyday for its experiments with life. Still we try to console ourselves with the illusions of purpose, of goals which are no more than a few steps in no direction in a dark road. We build our life based on tangible, transient things. Our job, our family, our friends, our bank balance, our material possessions, our beliefs, our ideas out of which only a few come from direct experience, rest are the result of vicarious feelings, second hand experiences. They define our existence.

Then one day the moment of clarity happens, the epiphany, and suddenly we realize that these things can be snatched away from us in less than a moment. And immediately, we stick harder to them, because if we lose them, we lose our life. But that doesn't help and sooner or later, the thing or the idea or the person through which or whom we were trying to find ourselves is lost. A relapse, a shock, alive but no sign of life.

And then we realize that we are not all these things. We realize that our existence doesn't depend on these things. We are only that part of our existence which cannot be taken away from us. Ever. Suddenly heart sinks in, complete chaos, like whole existence being sucked into vacuum, reality which was built in years shatters down in just a second. A search begins for that indestructible part of our life on which everything, 'everything' stands. Everything else loses its meaning.

We realize, we don't need our job, our bank balance, our family, our friends, our partners - we need a guiding light which can take us out of our suffering, the daily unstoppable suffocation inside. Despite every choice that we make in life, ultimately everyone, regardless of his/her status race creed or cult, has to face this truth alone that life is nothing but a preparation for eternity. [Rick Warren]

purpose of life...

I was going through the TED talks when I stumbled upon a talk by Rick Warren. Curiosity rose and I started reading his book 'The Purpose Driven Life'. Being an atheist it was a real test for my patience to start reading this book because at every line there is at least one G word there. But there was this interesting insight in it which kept me going:

Contrary to what many popular books, movies, and seminars tell you, you won't discover your life's meaning by looking within yourself. You've probably tried that already. You didn't create yourself, so there is no way you can tell yourself what you were created for! If I handed you an invention you had never seen before, you wouldn't know its purpose, and the invention itself wouldn't be able to tell you either. Only the creator or the owner's manual could reveal its purpose.

The Purpose Driven...

Hosted by eSnips

मामूली...

कुछ सपने, कुछ हकीकत
कुछ डर, कुछ ख्वाहिशें
थोड़ा दर्द, थोड़ी खुशी
कभी रास्ते तो कभी मंजिलें

सीने में दबी सिसकियाँ
होठों पर थकी हुई मुस्कराहट
कुछ ढूँढती हुई सी आँखें
साँसों से लटकी हुई घबराहट
चेहरे में दफन एक तलाश
लिखावट के ऊपर लिखावट

जिंदगी की भारी किताब के इस
मामूली से पन्ने को
न जाने किस बात का गुरूर था
जिंदगी ने तो इसे कभी पलट कर देखा भी नहीं

कभी कुछ लिखा तो कभी कुछ मिटा दिया
कुछ बातें याद रहीं और बाकी को यूं ही भुला दिया
फ़िर एक दिन ऐसे फाड़ कर फ़ेंक दिया
जैसे ये कभी ज़िन्दगी का हिस्सा भी ना रहा हो |

fight back... (battle at Kruger)...

if everyone cared...

fear...

What is this constant despair? Man is either running after his desires which he cannot fulfill, or he is running away from the fears which he cannot fight. There can be a simple way of living. Never fight against the forces stronger than yourself - within and outside you - like your instincts, your hunger, the storm or the gravity. Because no matter how hard or how long you fight these forces, you will be the loser in the end. But to know what is stronger and what is not, requires a lot of practice, awareness & thought - which gets sidelined or de-prioritized because of the ongoing race.

यतीम...

मासूमियत बचपन भी पूरा न देख पाई थी

जब उम्मीद जिम्मेदारियों के बोझ से टूट गयी
रिश्ते वक्त के खिंचाव को बर्दाश्त न कर सके
और प्यार, बीते हुए कल के
किसी बदनसीब पल में ज़ख्मी पड़ा है
इस सबके बाद जो जुस्तजू बची थी
उसे समाज की रस्में निगल गयी
और अब बचे हैं मैं और मेरी आवारगी
हर लम्हे ही जद्दोजहद में अपने
वुजूद की तलाश करते

वो चेहरा...

दिल इतना भर चुका था के

किसी भी पल छलकने को
तैयार थी उसकी आँखें
कब से उसने ख़ुद के किनारे
कुरेद कुरेद कर
समंदर को अन्दर बांधे रखा था |

कब तक संभालती वो
आख़िर दिल टूटा उसका और
वो आँखें बरस पड़ीं
बहुत लम्बी थी वो बरसात
बूँद बूँद करके
उसका समंदर सूख गया
उसके चेहरे पर बची सिर्फ़
नमक की कुछ खुश्क लकीरें
जिनको छुपाने के लिए उसने
एक नया चेहरा पहन लिया |

उम्मीद का अकेलापन...

रात की सर्द खामोशी में

दिल की खुरदरी ज़मीन पर
विचारों के अनगिनत बीज
बेवजह बिखरे पड़े थे |

सुबह होने तक
उनमें से कुछ में
उम्मीद के अंकुर फूटे
और वो मिट्टी छोड़ कर
आसमान छूने को तैयार हो गए |

दिन शुरू हुआ तो
वो सभी खुदगर्ज़ पौधे
जो ऊँचाई की अंधी चाह में
अपने वजूद को मिट्टी से
अलग समझ बैठे थे
दोपहर होने तक
जद्दोजहद की गर्मी में झुलस कर
वापिस मिट्टी में जा मिले |

कुछ पौधे गुज़रते काफिलों
के कदमों तले कुचले गए
कुछ ने दूसरों के बहकावे में आकर
अपनी जड़ों को मिट्टी से अलग कर लिया
कुछ अपनी ही कमजोरी का शिकार हुए
और कुछ ने हकीकत से घबरा कर
खुदकशी कर ली |

शाम ढलने तक
सिर्फ़ एक पौधा बचा
जो दिनभर चुपचाप एक कोने में खड़ा
मिट्टी में अपने पाँव जमाए
सूरज को छूने की कोशिश करता रहा था
शाम तक उसका कद
पहले से कुछ बढ़ गया था
लेकिन सुबह से रात होते होते
वो अब अकेला रह गया था |

voices...

I am not me anymore
I am the world I see and reflect..

I am far away from myself
I am the conflict of my own reasons
lost, within my own boundaries
illusioned, by my own beliefs..

I try to hide what I want to show
dissatisfaction of my confused desires
the intensity of my unheard emotions
I am the fugitive of my dying spirit..

I eat my own vanity
to feed my wounded esteem
and still hunger for peace within..

I yearn to return
to my home, the real I
where I once belonged..

song of the road...

Now, this is the movie which makes you sad and surprised at the same time. Sad because of it's extraordinary screenplay which is meant to make you sad, and surprised because how could you have missed it till now. Simple, intense and meaningful. No exaggerations, simple story telling. Marvelous.

I had this desire to watch 'Pather Panchali' for a long long time. And watch I did today. I can't believe that such a movie could have been made in 1955. Only Satyajit Ray can do this! Hats off once again! A MUST watch for movie lovers.

fight club...

I kept procrastinating to watch the movie because its name sounded so stupid. It was psychological, one because of the impression it gave was like it was some jerk-off action movie and two because there was another movie with the same name in bollywood which was the insult to the brains of movie goers. But then one day I was going through the top 250 list of imdb and found this movie at position 23. I was surprised.

Then I watched this movie. And since then, I have watched it around four times with four different people and at the end all four were ready to watch it once again.

This movie is my prayer. Edward Norton is my god, so is David Fincher. Haven’t seen such a dark movie ever!

moi mosaic...

Priya seems to have this tendency to stumble upon some interesting tag things. Found it interesting, taking up the mosaic tag. Consulted Priya's page for rules, only putting results here.

Picture Curtsy: Flickr.

The questions and the answers:

1. What is your first name?

Rahul.

2. What is your favorite food? Right now?

Caesar Salad.

3. What high school did you go to?

Dhami.

4. What is your favorite color?

Black. So obsessed that I want to paint the walls of my room back home black.

5. Who is your celebrity crush?

Carla Bruni. Sigh!

6. Favorite drink?

Vodka with Ice.

7. Dream vacation?

A&N Islands.

8. Favorite dessert?

Rasmalai.

9. What do you want to be when you grow up?

When I grow up? I am already!

But I want to be a traveler-cum-writer-cum-learner.

10. What do you love most in life?

I don't know.

11. One word to describe you.

Curious.

12. Your Flickr name.

In Search of I.

obsessions...

She had this charm, this joyful air around her he could not resist. How fickle! Soon, she took him away from me.

“Amit! Shall we go for coffee?”

“Oh sorry, you carry on! I am helping Suruchi with her review reports.”

“Amit! Can you drop me home?”

“Can you take an auto today? I will have to stay late. Suruchi has to finish her deliverable by tomorrow and lot of work is pending.”

“Amit! Where are you?”

“Suruchi and I are in a movie! I’ll call you back later.”

“Hi Amit!”

“Hey! Can you put Suruchi on line? I need to talk to her. I think her phone is switched off.”

This went on. For weeks. Or may be months. I don’t know. But, something was happening inside me.

This morning Suruchi asked me: “Do you think Amit likes me? Do you think he will propose to me?” I had said I don’t know. Later Amit had asked: “Do you think Suruchi likes me? Do you think I should propose to her?” I had said I don’t know.

I had been accumulating emotional ammunition. I had turned into an explosive filled with shrapnels of anger and obsession.

Later in the evening when I entered house, I saw her door was left ajar. I found them both in her room; they were lying naked in bed, sleeping, which seemed like after long hours of love making.

My mind went numb.

Suruchi was such a warmhearted person… irresistible… This spring she had arrived at the city, joined the company and was looking for a place to stay. We both were in the same project. I offered her to stay in the vacant room of my apartment. I remember when I asked her to stay with me she had exclaimed with joy... or perhaps surprise... “That would be superb, wow! Thanks… Thanks a lot…” with those big beautiful black eyes widening and her cute little mouth agape. Those eyes, her hair, and her tall slim physique - I had felt jealous the first time I introduced her to Amit.

There was a sense of foreboding from the beginning.

Amit was the technical lead of our project - charming, handsome guy – so outwardly sophisticated that any girl ordinary could fall in love with him at the first sight and so inwardly ordinary that anyone sophisticated could understand his true nature at first glance. I knew him more than anyone else. I knew him more than he knew himself. Staying late nights at office, dropping me home, those hours of talking on phone, hanging out on weekends – we were more than just friends but less than lovers. At least that’s what I thought, until she came. And robbed me.

How can she? How can he? How dare them?

They looked content and peaceful – Amit with his charming face and strong shoulders and she, with her hair scattered on Amit's thighs and black beautiful eyes staring right at me. Only those eyes were now devoid of life. I had killed them both. I took my kitchen knife, made its blade red hot on the gas burner and sliced their throat while they were asleep.

I had exploded, and they became victims. It wasn't easy for me. For them too...

choices...

Dindu was aware of his emotional insecurity. Frequently he would fall into his negative self and lose all his energy to fight back. Handling emotions had never been easy for him especially when he grew up and emotions started becoming stronger and choices more complicated. Relationships and family meant nothing more than an emotional liability. He could never draw strength from his family and was mostly left alone in making important choices of his life, the choices he thought he would never have to make. Somehow he was surviving, but he barely felt alive.

Jay had come in his life a year ago. She was a pain in the beginning, with all uncomfortable questions and those curious, honest eyes. But slowly a bond started building between the two. Dindu could speak openly to her, which evaporated his hardened feelings and his heart felt lighter. Jay was always happy to be a listener. After a few months, Dindu had reached the threshold where friendship starts transforming into a relationship. He was feeling emotionally more stable and alive for the first time in many years. He had decided to let her know how he felt about her.

He still remembered the morning he had thought he would let her know. A strange aura had descended on her face that day. She looked beautiful, much prettier than she usually was. The same morning Jay had introduced him to her fiancée. Dindu remembered that he had managed to smile and congratulate them both and wished them luck. They got married a few months later. Dindu had excused himself from attending the wedding because he had been transferred to a different city. The day before he left the city, he wrote in his diary:

May be the real question is ‘When it will be’ and not ‘Who it will be’. It will be hard. It was a tough choice…

changing times...

“You always have to have everything your cousin has. Don’t you understand that your uncle is a police commissioner and your aunt is a manager in the bank? Your mother is just a housewife and I am a junior engineer in the electricity board. We don’t earn as much as they do. We must save money for the future. We are not same! Don’t ask me ever again to get you something which you saw your cousin has! Learn to control your feelings!”

It was almost 10 years ago. Dindu had asked his father to buy him a computer to help his studies at the college. He always got similar answers - when he had asked for a cricket bat, video game or a fountain pen or when he had asked his father to take them to a new place for summer holidays instead of going to their uncle's house as they did every year. After that day he had stopped asking.

Dindu was lying on his back in a lonely corner of the beach - his eyes focused on the infinity of the sky, a cloud intercepting the infinity every now and then. Earlier that evening Dindu had a conversation with his father. His father called him from the village saying: “Look at your cousin. Learn something from him. He has got a better paying job, he married to a beautiful wife and now soon they will have children. I had saved some ten lakh rupees to spend on your marriage, but you never listen to what I say. You don’t care about your parent's feelings.”

Dindu didn’t know whether he felt surprised or betrayed. It was almost dark. He realized, it no longer mattered whether he kept his eyes open or shut. He picked himself up and started walking towards his home.

epiphany...

You can never be perfect, but you can always be a perfectionist...

believe in me...

Some people can never believe in themselves, until someone believes in them... -Good Will Hunting.

kite...

Life is not only about those moments when everything was beautiful, everybody was smiling and you had camera in your hands.

on adoption...

Apparently Priya was floored by a movie dipicting the cause of adoption, that is, a family legally taking the responsibility of a child who does not belong to them biologically. Keywords here are 'family', 'responsibility', 'child' and perhaps 'belong' too. Priya has written earnestly about the subject in her blog, to which I am adding a few points from my judgment. (Note: I, also, recently happened to watch the movie 'Gone Baby Gone' which is a very intense depiction about the similar subject, but may be from a completely different angle).

First question that comes to my mind is - 'Why does a child need to get adopted at the first place?' Natural disasters (Tsunamis, earthquakes), I think, are the primary cause of leaving behind in their wake deprived, orphaned children. Other causes can be parents meeting an unnatural demise, or parents abondoning their child because they don't have resources to bring up the child.

Then the next question is 'Whose need is it getting fulfilled by adoption - the child's or the parent's?' I think, answer here would be both sides, child's being a little overweighing because of its susceptibility and vulnerability.

Then 'Why is it always parent's responsibility to take care of every need of the children?' I think, children must be the responsibility of the community first, then family's. Why are we so sure that without a family a child can never have a good life? Why is community so prejudiced when it comes to giving and so open when it comes to taking? Community must provide every child the basic resources and values, parents should be there to monitor the day to day growth of the child. 'Community' here can be a very confusing term open to all kinds of interpretations. But, for a moment, just honestly think about it with an open mind - think of five families together taking care of a child and the amount of affection and knowledge that child gets entitled to.

Then 'Why do couples seek children?' If it is because of social pressure, or following the crowd routine, or i-don't-know, then those couples don't deserve to be parents. Such people look for an emotional crutch because of which they get married to each other, and later have children. Such relationships always end up in a disastrous failure.

Genes are really very important here. Genes are the building blocks of an individual. And if there is any fault in them you cannot really do anything about that. Anyhow, that is beyond the control of man, so we can only respectfully accept the fact. But labeling the genetic fact as 'good blood' or 'bad blood' is the result of many bright years of bollywood and cable TV - it's not a gospel coming from heavens. The great Mrityunjaya (Karna) of Mahabharata is still struggling to find a place for his talents, but always gets judged by his cast.

Whether a child must know that he or she was adopted? Well, ofcourse! The problem with parents most of the times (especially with Indian parents) is that majority of them don't talk to their children with honesty. They always believe that things must be understood without stating them. That's impossible. This gap between parent and child has to be removed. They don't reason with their children, they think that authority will do its work all the time. But then children grow up and authority goes away. We really need reasonable people who can be reasonable parents.

Then issues like 'incapable parents, after adopting a child magically get their own biological child' or 'the biological parents of the child are still alive, and the child wants to meet them' are more related to the individual's intelligence about dealing with complicated relationship problems rather than adoption. We can see real life examples around our neighborhoods, of two biological brothers being treated differently, because of the immaturity of the couple. Children don't want to see their own father and mother. Such issues have never ceased to exist and will continue unless people wake up and see for themselves what is good and bad for them, and not what others think about what is good and what is bad for them.

First lines from Gone Baby Gone:

I always believed it was the things you don't choose that makes you who you are. Your city, your neighbourhood, your family. People here take pride in these things, like it was something they'd accomplished. The bodies around their souls, the cities wrapped around those. I lived on this block my whole life; most of these people have. When your job is to find people who are missing, it helps to know where they started. I find the people who started in the cracks and then fell through. This city can be hard. When I was young, I asked my priest how you could get to heaven and still protect yourself from all the evil in the world. He told me what God said to His children: "You are sheep among wolves. Be wise as serpents, yet innocent as doves"

el laberinto del fauno...

Wo! You sit down with an expectation, you stay surprised what's happening and at the end you realize you have been struck by a thunderbolt. I thought I was going to watch an oscar winning

fairy tale, I was surprised to see a civil war coming along and at the end I was dumbstruck to see what happened. Whatever age group you are, the movie grabs you, tightly cusping your attention in its beautiful narration, and it strikes that old forgotten innocent memory of yours which you feel has been erased by the fast paced world. Only problem is if you are a non-spanish, you will have to let go the intensity of the tongue in which dialogues are spoken. For the interest of those who want to watch this materpiece and have fast internet broadband connection here is the link with english subtitles.

Ravi – Lost and Found...

From 2005, on demand by Dindu:

(Undecipherable noise… Many men talking at the same time…) ‘Excuse me friends! It is not making any sense. I must insist that we all stop talking together and speak one by one. That way we can express our individual views with more clarity and in the end whatever time remains we can comment on others’ views. (Noise continues…) (Shouting Angrily…) HERE YOU IDIOTS! (Sudden Silence…) You hear what I am saying or I will KICK the SHIT out of you all one by one!!! (Silence in the room…) Yeah, that’s better. Now listen! We have been given a topic to discuss here and we are supposed to express our views within this limited time frame. If all of us start talking at the same time nobody will be there listening. What we are supposed to do is, bring out an agreement on the subject given to us. Let me start by expressing my views and then clockwise we can continue expressing our views. Is that fine will your all? (Silence…) Mr. Assamese! Is that fine? (Assamese nods with a shiver…cooler voice…) Fine! I take that as acceptance. Let me begin then. (Pause…Lets out breath…) Gentlemen! My view is military training should be made mandatory for all the young people of India, who are physically capable of going through its rigors. This will bring discipline in their lives; they will be strong to face the real life and will take up their social responsibilities well. A sense of national responsibility can arise in today’s youth, only when one goes through the troubles of such trainings and serves his country for at least a small period of five years. And as our friend from Assam has earlier pointed out, it will make the world better. I have discussed it with Mr. President and he has given his warm acceptance to this idea. Facts, gentlemen, Facts!!! These are the facts I am telling you and there is no better solution than this to make our nation better…’ (Claps…Darkness…)

(Light… Interview panel… an interview going on…)
‘Mr. Ravi! Welcome to Rurakee campus. Tell us something about yourself…’

‘Thank you first of all. Well I am a complicated person. Till now even I am not able to understand myself. I am a person who lives on some basic terms and principles. The punch line which guides my life is “I don’t know where I am going, but I know where I have been. I don’t know what my vision is, but I know what I have seen…” Though I belong to a very modest background yet my ambitions are high and my instincts strong. I want to bring a positive change in the outlook of this world by taking up a work which can bring smiles to many faces.’

‘And what that work would be, Mr. Ravi?’

‘Well, I want to be my own master. I will start a food chain, with branches all over India or perhaps even world. I tell you gentlemen, there is nothing more satisfying than satisfying hungry people with good food.’

‘But I suppose you are currently working in an IT industry. How then you think you will go about it?’

‘Frankly speaking, joining IT was a big mistake. But as I have already said, I know where I have been. I learn from my mistakes and I learnt from this mistake. IT was not my cup of tea. I don’t say it is a problem in IT. There are people who enjoy that work too. But I didn’t fit there.’

‘What made you feel you were different from those people?’

‘Well, there is a lot of complacence there. Dreams are rarely seen. I found out that there isn’t greatness in being a buffalo-with-a-dream in a large buffalo herd. The owner will tell eat, you eat; he will tell drink, you drink; he will beat with stick and twice a day he will take away milk. And all you can do is just keep shitting around yourself. I can’t live like that. I want to be free… At my own… That’s my dream… To live free… To bring that desire to be free in everyone around me… Yes, I have been strayed. And I will start afresh. For that I am looking for an opportunity and I am sure you will consider my passion.’

(Healthy silence in the room…After a pause…) ‘Very Impressive! Congratulations Mr. Ravi! We offer you a seat at our institute if you are ready to take it up…’

In a fit of excitement Ravi jumped from the seat and fell on the table…

‘O Mr. Ravi! Please get up… get up… get up… get up…
(Darkness…)

(Light… Engine noise… People shouting “GET UP!!! GET UP!!!…)

When Ravi opened his slumberous eyes he was lying on the alleyway between the seats of the bus and passengers were shouting “GET UP! GET UP!” Bus was zooming at the speed of 70 mph and driver hadn’t bothered the speed breaker on the road. As the fast moving vehicle slid past the speed breaker, it flew into the air for a while and came down thumping, teaching a lesson on Newton’s first law of inertia to all the passengers inside. Ravi had fallen down from his seat unaware of the Newtonian force responsible for the fall. He was dreaming, and it took him a while to come out of his reverie and smell the humus. Had Sigmund Freud been given the task of interpreting Ravi’s dream, he would have jumped with joy, because this dream was totally in accordance with his wish fulfillment theory. Two different dreams joined together to indicate an unfulfilled wish. And the last moments of the reverie he would have attributed to the external stimuli responsible for the images produced in dream. But ironically, not for Freud, in reality everything which happened in dream had gone exactly the other way round.

Ravi was returning to Delhi after going through his GD/PI (Group Discussion and Personal Interview) at Rurakee College of Business Studies. After boarding the bus, he had taken a nap while the bus strolled slowly through the crowded city roads. But as soon as it had entered the open country highway, the driver unleashed the entire throttle which ultimately brought Ravi back from the world of dreams. It took him a little while to realize how fast the undulating sugarcane fields were running past him. Just half a day past his life was in the hands of interview panel, and now it depended on the right foot of the driver, who was showing no mercy on decaying frame of the bus. The bus crossed another three speed breakers at the same furious speed, and each time Ravi jumped so high from his seat that his hair remained just an inch below the roof of the bus. He called the conductor and said: “Bhaiyya! Driver KO thoDa acchhe se chalane KO boliye Na!” The conductor looked at him with surprise. Expression on his face was like that of a commuter of Mumbai locals to whom some new Mumbaite had asked not to push his way into the local. “Yahan bus aise hi chalti hai bhai sahab!” was all, that conductor could manage say to hide his surprise.

Under his shallow breath Ravi prayed to God for safe journey till Delhi. He kept his bag at one side and tried to return to his reverie which refused now to come back to his memory. That dream now became a sweet nostalgia, and for a moment Ravi wished if he could have really lived that dream. After all, he had nothing to lose. His waking consciousness was back and he started thinking about his future, his present and the deep dark valley in between. He wanted to do an MBA. These two years of IT life had sucked like hell. As a fresh graduate from a good engineering college he had dreamt many a dreams when he joined a prestigious IT firm. But as he got into the rabbit hole of IT reality, he found out that he is getting lost in some desert. In the beginning of career he worked during nights. Worked like a typist. He got so pissed off with his job that he could have done anything to get out of this. But the company had taken away that chance by making all fresher employees sign an agreement to work for at least two years. In case of breaking this agreement employee had to pay two lakh rupees. Well that was a big sum and two years were at stake. Amidst this dilemma of choices, ultimately he found himself trapped in a sort of cage where, neither he could like what he got nor he could get what he liked.

There were dreams of course. There were dreams of better life, challenging work and urge to do something important, something different. But during the last days of college, when the entire herd was running after big paychecks and big names, he was also taken over by the placement pandemonium. When someone starts running after something, at the same time he starts running away from something. Ravi realized he had been running away from himself all these months. And now time had come to stop running towards something which never existed for him. Time had come to revisit his foundations and realize his forsaken dreams. Time had come to ask himself the inevitable questions – “What do I want? How will I achieve it?” for which only he could find the answers. It was not late and he had lost only two years. He could start fresh, there was hope. He had come far from where he wanted to be, but he wasn’t lost.

Amidst the flying stunts of Uttaranchal Road Transport bus, he was thinking all this when suddenly driver slowed down the bus for a pleasant change. Ultimately he stopped the bus in front of a small dhaba. Driver and conductor got down. Ravi also thought of relieving himself from the pressing thoughts by paying off the nature’s call. The place was smaller than a small village. There were just a few shops standing parallel to the main road where vehicles were zooming past intermittently. Beside the shops there were sugarcane fields. The air was filled with the smell of sugar factories. If one inhaled too much of that air, he could even have caught diabetes. Ravi kept his bag on the seat, took his knapsack along with him in which he carried his certificates and got down from the bus. After traveling at almost quarter a mach (one fourth of the speed of sound) getting on the inertial frame of reference was a relief in itself. He felt that he had grown heavy. He stretched his body and headed toward the sugarcane field to micturate.

‘Why can’t I just run into these fields and get lost? Damn! This world is a big septic tank and I am a small piece of shit in it! Why can’t I live it my way? Why can’t I run away to a place where I breathe fresh air, eat healthy food and work something sufficient to satisfy my needs? I can live on chewing this sugarcane rather than eating over-oily tasteless curries in the city. Ah! Money! I need money! I need a lot of money to have financial freedom! Then I can think of such adventures. How will I get the money? Oh! I need to do an MBA for that! I need to do an MBA. But will that bring me money? Oh man! It sucks…’ He peed and wished these thoughts could also go out from his body along with the urine. Mind felt a little relieved now and he returned to the stop to get back on the bus.

The thin stream of thoughts still kept dripping on his mind as he returned. ‘Man! Everything sucks up here… Now this crazy driver… He is driving the shit out of… HOLY SHIT!!! WHAT THE HECK!!! WHERE IS THE BUS???’ The bus was gone, as gone as the proverbial horns on a donkey’s head, and for a moment he stood petrified, feeling his feet getting cold like Himalayan ice. He wished this too was some dream and soon it will get over with someone shaking him on a soft warm bed. But nobody came to wake him up from his dream and it turned out to be a living nightmare. The event of the whole day went flashing out of his eyes. How he was getting nervous before his GD, screwing up of GD, how he wished to punch that Assamese guy, the interview panel, their crazy questions, his crazy answers, finally that wicked smile on their face when they asked him to leave. And now he was standing like a frozen statue in a small village with his bag in the bus which had left him forlorn in this barren land. He rushed to one of the shopkeepers and asked where the bus was. Shopkeeper said as indifferently as it was desperate for Ravi: ‘Bus to chali gayee Saab.’

Ravi had to decide and decide fast what to do. So he rushed toward the middle of the road and like a mad man started making gestures, asking for a lift from almost every passing vehicle, sparing only the bicycle riders. Vehicles zipped past him, some with an indifferent horn, some shouting back the abuses ‘MADAR CH*#!!! MAREGA KYA!!!’ Time was running wild, and the bus would have gone at least 10 miles by now. He didn’t know the bus number but he knew that his new dress, new shoes which he had bought specially for the occasion were in the bag, which was also about 10 miles away from him. While keeping the major part of his waking conscience busy making gestures for lift from the vehicles, he roughly calculated his loss that came to around six thousand rupees.

Eventually a middle aged person stopped by him who was on a Bajaj Chetak. Thinking that it is better to have a kerchief of a running thief Ravi decided to chase the bus on the Humara Bajaj legendary stead. In a single breath Ravi explained his plight to this person, and pleaded him for the lift. The generous man agreed and Ravi started following the 70 mph bus on a 30 mph Bajaj Chetak. Ravi calculated that if he followed the bus like this for an hour then bus will move further 40 miles away from him. Neither dare he ask the person to driver fast nor could he keep himself from thinking about the Lee Cooper shoes which were continuously rolling away from him at 40 mph. ‘What if he asks me to get down right away? It’s already evening and after a couple of hours night will arrive. No! Let me win the race the turtle way’ he thought. Meanwhile he kept explaining to this person about what had happened. Those forty five minutes on scooter seemed like a whole era passing through his eyes. ‘Bus will be around 30 miles away from me now or even more’ he thought ‘but it might even be 75 miles away given we are moving away from each other!!!’ Preparation for MBA had made his math sharp and given him a habit of thinking about all possibilities. ‘SHIT!!! I NEVER ASKED THIS MAN THAT I WANT TO GO TO DELHI!!! WHAT THE HELL!!! AM I GOING BACK TO RURAKEE???’ But he didn’t ask the person because making mad gestures, asking for lift nowhere in the middle of the highway was the last thing he wanted to do.

After a few minutes, when they reached a busy traffic signal where many vehicles were stopping, the man spoke pointing towards a bus ‘Bhai Sahab! I will not be going to Delhi, but this bus will take you there…’ Ravi jumped out of the scooter and rushed into the bus without even thanking his savior. Later he realized he owed gratitude for the scooter rider and to some extent for Bajaj Auto Ltd as well. He explained the whole story to the conductor of the bus and the conductor told that he could get his bag back given he knew which depot the bus belonged to or the bus number. Ravi knew neither of them and there remained only a bleak hope in his eyes for reuniting with his bag. By repeating his story to all the passengers aboard, he had aroused sympathy for himself among the passengers along with praise for the intelligence of keeping his certificates with him. One auntyji sitting next to his seat kept drawling time and again ‘BETA! Bhagwan kare aapko aapka bag mil jaye!’

Meanwhile Ravi was thinking what was more disturbing – losing or being lost? Was he worried because he had lost his bag and other valuables with it or was he worried because he was lost? If he had nothing with him at the moment he found his bus missing, would he have tried to stop every vehicle like a mad man? If he was all alone, wouldn’t he have ventured into the sugarcane field seeking an adventure? A person who has nothing to lose cannot be lost. A person who knows where he is heading cannot be lost. Well, it is possible that he can get out of his original track for a while but that doesn’t mean he is lost. Maximum a man can lose is his will to try again, to try one more time.

Amidst these thoughts he alighted in Noida and boarded another bus from there to ISBT. To give a final try, he looked for the bus which had forsaken him in a barren village. He asked the people at ISBT about where the buses coming from Rurakee stop. After a few directions he finally found the conductor and the driver, the bus and eventually his bag. There was no point in arguing with the two caretakers of the bus now and so he left them behind and started his journey ahead. And for the first time he heard something repeating within himself. The same lines which he had unknowingly spoken while giving interview in his dream:

“I don’t know where I am going, but I know where I have been;
I don’t know what my vision is, but I know what I have seen…”

no reason...

From House MD.

JM: If I had killed you, would it have mattered?
GH: Not to me.
JM: You don't care if you live or die?
GH: I care because I live. I can't care if I'm dead.
JM: I don't want to hear semantics.
GH: You anti-semantic bastard.

JM: Would anybody care that the world lost that wit?
GH: [Writing an equation of the wall] Working here.
JM: You don't have to say anything. Just let me soak into your sub-conscious. You think that the only truth that matters is the truth that can be measured. Good intentions don't count, what's in your heart doesn't count, caring doesn't count. A man's life can't be measured by how many tears are shed when he dies. It's because you can't measure them, just because you don't want to measure them, doesn't mean it's not real.

GH: [Looking at the equation] That does not make any sense.
JM: And even if i'm wrong, you're still miserable. Did you really think that your only purpose is to sacrifice yourself and get nothing in return? No. You believe there is no purpose... to anything. Even the lives you save you dismiss. You turn the one decent thing in your life and you taint it, strip it of all meaning. You're miserable for nothing. I don't know why you'd want to live.

GH: [Turning from his writing on the wall] I'm sorry.