Happy Women's Day (HWD)

It seems that while presenting the budget, Mr Chidambaram cut the ribbons on Women’s Day celebration a tad earlier. By announcing the launch of a 1,000 crore ‘by the women, for the women’ bank. Time will tell, whether this is turning economics on its head. But I guess the feminine power and touch will likely ensure this to be no-scam-high-governance bank!

Cut to 8th March. So when the HWD finally arrived, the mood seemed feisty. Happy Women’s Day! The greeting rent the air, and the din of the celebrations vaulted higher and texture of the ritual shone brighter, perhaps bordering on brash. The HWD was embarrassingly conspicuous and noticeably loud. You have to be brain dead to have missed it! Celebration hung all over. The air was pregnant with a certain feminine boisterousness and playfulness. The pink seemed to be topping the fashion charts, a la Valentine’s day.

With such celebration of and for the fairer sex, men could feel utterly left out. I unloaded my angsty feelings to my friend. Hearing my thoughts (interpreted sexist!), she suddenly hurled ‘you are such a sperm’ at me. That sounded like a full on expletive against me and the male gender. I retreated, cowed and cowered. It was clearly not the man’s day! He was suddenly irrelevant, inconsequential and insignificant!

***

On a serious note, it felt that the force of the ‘HWD’ has achieved the critical mass, and has lots going for it. It can achieve a very meaningful success, further multiplying the feminine force. But there is also an equally high chance of it becoming or descending into farcical, ritualistic, and symbolic. Rituals are essential, as they have a very reinforcing vitality. They send powerful visual imagery and words and slowly altering the soft layers of psychology and thoughts. But subtlety of elegance and meaningfulness is essential. It is essential to save it from becoming a race for symbolic celebration. It is necessary to guard against the might of the marketing machinery taking over the celebrations, and to be exploited by peddlers of the merchandise. It should not turn into a make-me-feel-good-pamper-me day. Too much celebratory joy and happiness will hang in the air, over a lost cause!

***

The reason in me made one last valiant attempt - without men, can there be Women? But ofcourse the reason reasoned back - without Women, can there be men? 

 

Ahh.. what does seem inevitable is for the man to wait and watch out for the artificial sperms to roll out off the assembly lines of genetic plants. He could then be happily banished to the gulags in cold Siberian desert. So much for the man but for whom, could there be a Y chromosome?

--La fin--

With Wishes, and Cheers,
mg
net.mail.in@gmail.com

All views are personal. Intellectual property rights reserved.

Revolution - It's here!

 

 

 

  

Prologue

Revolution is not something fixed in ideology, nor is it something fashioned to a particular decade. It is a perpetual process embedded in the human spirit

-Abbie Hoffman

 

Our evolution had always been littered with multitude of challenges including those of social and cultural variety. Equally numerous have been, and to this day continue to be, the struggles to banish such ills and evils that - to any sane person - should not find place in our current modern world. This is inspite of we having arrived in a modern world, and most of the nations having become independent!

The underlinings of the fabric of an otherwise even a visibly free society strains because of various ills that political, societal and cultural defects and upheavals bring. Bloodying and bruising the destinies and shaking the faith and trusts of many a citizenry. And there is a constant struggle against these. The struggles take various forms and shapes. It could be class struggle, poor vs rich, struggle against apartheid, dalits v upper class, struggle of women for equal rights, or just for the right to be educated, and many such.  At some point of time, the common struggles of many converge, sparking collective fury. This collective fury and angst has set off many a Revolution. Is it onset of a Revolution? A Renaissance? Is it a juggernaut in motion – the unstoppable juggernaut of Revolution?

 

1

The sadness of the women’s movement is that they don’t allow the necessity of love. See, I don’t personally trust any revolution where love is not allowed

-Maya Angelou

A few days back, rummaging through my mailbox, I clicked on the latest from my dear ‘overseas’ uncle, who seems to like following the big news and events of this country. It had a news article, long one actually. The 1st part dealt with the grave ills and challenges and crises facing the humanity, particularly of the social kind, in various forms and shapes, and ending on the excesses being committed by the men against the women. Particularly the incidents of rape and violations that have raised outcries in various parts of the world, including the recent one in India.

But it was the 2nd half of the article that caught my interest. Reportedly a billion people, from across the world, comprising of women, and men who love them, were planning to dance their day away on the Valentine’s Day, as part of raising awareness and protesting against the sexual assaults on women-kind.  Now we could not have imagined a protest of this kind. Novel method indeed! I was intrigued – here was a Revolution being shaped in such a ‘loving’, ‘moving’ form. I could even draw parallel with the very different non-ahimsa movement several decades back led by a man in a loin cloth, our Father of the Nation. And it led to revolutionary change!

2

I began revolution with 82 men. If I had to do it again, I do it with 10 or 15 and absolute faith. It does not matter how small you are if you have faith and plan of action

-Fidel Castro

 

Is the Humanity caught in the cross fires and overflowing gushes of Revolution? A concept that seemed quaint, arcane and belonging to a different era and from bygone centuries, is suddenly upon us and around us. Everywhere. Engulfing us. A series of Revolutions have suddenly been sparked and lit, like the myriad sounds and lights of Diwali fire crackers.

The Arab Spring or the Jasmine Revolution is something that instantly flashes in the mind. Back in August 2012, unimaginable events happened in the societies of the Middle East and Mediterranean countries. Totally incredible, that such events could occur in such places. The flares first erupted in tiny nation of Tunisia. Overnight, hundreds of thousands of people – people who felt repressed and stifled over the ages - descended on the streets, demanding better governance and new government, and a bundle of rights. Rights which form, or rather should form, the bedrock of human society – free speech and expression, democratic process, and the like. The tidal waves of Revolution then swept several neighboring and nearby countries, and they continue to lash against their establishments. It has become darker, bloodier, more intense in some. And the Revolution is claiming lives, as it always does.  But it is refusing to die down, as it does. It won’t be trampled and snuffed out. Till probably it has achieved what it wills to.

3

It is well enough that people of the nation do not understand our banking and monetary system, for if they did I believe there would be a revolution before tomorrow morning

-Henry Ford

But before the scent of Jasmine Spring started wafting through the bloodied streets and roads of those kingdoms and banana republics, another event proved to be the stones igniting the fire in the aftermath of Financial crisis. When the Capitalism almost tumbled deep into abyss, taking the World economy down on a tail spin. The sledge-hammer blow that Lehman and AIG inflicted. The weight of sub-prime that almost crushed the US economy. Spooked and shook the global financial system. It could have sunk the economies so deep that we would have returned to Stone Age of financial kind.

Revolution rose in the form of ‘Occupy Wall Street’, the 1st in the series of ‘Occupy’ing financial districts. Overnight huge swathes of people, the so called ‘we are 99%‘, arguably the victims of the Financial Crisis, rose in protest against the demi gods of capitalism, marquee financial services entities and investment bankers, and their allegedly greedy ways, corrupt practices, and last but not the least, fat wads of salaries and bonuses, earned selling – arguably - unsuitable and risky products. And, yet another fire kindled!

The OWS movement caught the imagination of populace across the middle and sub-middle class western world, and quickly spread across various other financial centres, within and outside of US of A. In London, it metamorphosed into ‘Occupy London’ under the banner of ‘The European Spring’. The incredible part seems that the citizens from beacons of democracy seem to be borrowing the idea of Revolution from the so un-democratic, Jasmine Revolution nations!

Is this another Revolution brewing here that is aiming to strike at the ‘abhorable’ practices of the capitalists?

4

For a successful revolution, it is not enough that there is discontent. What is required is a profound and thorough conviction of the justice, necessity and importance of political and social rights

-BR Ambedkar

Revolution hit our home shores last year like advancing forces of gale wind. In our own backyard, the issue of corruption came to acquire the centre stage with ferocity, suddenly out of nowhere. And how? A frail aged Gandhian, belonging to an era people hardly remember anymore, electrified and catalysed the entire nation, both India and Bharat, capturing the imagination of young and not-so-young-anymore. People from yester-generation, those with their greys, having grown up on a heavy corrosive diet of ‘chalta hai’ and having accepted corruption as perfectly legit, couldn’t have ever imagined witnessing making of history right in front of their eyes. The Cause struck the chord, and the Generation gaps bridged. Gen ‘no letter’ bonded with Gen ‘letter’. They infused and entwined into each other! At the altar of a Revolution!

The tidal wave of protests swept the country. It shook the political class. And rocked the establishment. They could have almost come-off unhinged. We suddenly became so much more sensitive of the cancer of corruption, and the way it is mauling the Nation. We badly want it eradicated. Like by yesterday. Unfortunately, the Revolution petered out, losing steam. The politicos and the establishment, who were almost engulfed in its Tsunami, went back to their business as usual. So much so that an anti-corruption law still seems moon miles away.

But I believe the Revolution has ignited enough thoughts and fires, and its flames could start leaping out again. I believe the embers are smoldering still, even if not visible. And it wont’t stop. Just won’t.

5

Those who make peaceful revolution impossible, will make violent revolution inevitable

-John F Kennedy

Revolution in other forms too is on our doors. Looking at the history of Revolutions, the oppressed, the exploited, the deprived, and the enslaved rose in unison. Against the rich, dictators, czars, feudal lords, ruling class and the powerful. They wrested their right - right to speak, to possess, to earn, to live. And the right to be free. Just free!

Unfortunately, billions of us are organized in a humongous ‘matrix’ way – by gender, class, caste, economic  status, social status, geography, and many more. Revolution of one such class or segment of population not necessarily makes the Revolution of or for the other. 

But this Revolution that hit us in the nearest past stood out – it pitted one half of the population of this nation against the other, cleaving it right down the middle. It’s the Revolution of Women against the men. Against atrocities towards them over aeons, exploitation of them in many ways, assault on them of various types - violating them, their feminity and their woman-ness, constantly chipping away at their dignity, shoving them deeper and deeper into the corner.

And it all seemingly culminated on that chilly Delhi night. It is unimaginable that that woman – christened by the media as Nirbhaya and Asmita – when she screamed against her violation, the scream was so intense that it coursed through the entire Nation, shaking up its administration and governance. Kick-starting a massive outpour of anger. Demonstrations made, protests registered, paths walked, candles lit. Shouted on, water-cannoned, caned, manhandled, shoved around, pushed around. But the revolutionary spirit did not flap and did not yield. None and nothing could dampen the frustration and fury that erupted volcanically. This Revolution has come to symbolize everything that the female gender wants. And what they are being denied.

6

This revolution, the information revolution, is a revolution of free energy, as well, but of another kind: free intellectual energy. It’s very crude today, yet our Macintosh computer take less power than a 100-watt bulb to run it and it can save you hours a day. What will it be able to do ten or 20 years from now, or 50 years from now?

-Steve Jobs

In the swansong of Revolutions, paying homage to Technology’s crucial and central role is essential…its like these massive jet engines strapped on to the fuselage propelling the plane ahead. Much in the same way, the Technology is propelling the Revolutions. It has become the causative force and fabricating force in some, binding force and driving force in some.  Organizing a demonstration, raising protest, registering your angst, venting your ire, spewing fire on any act of injustice – all those are just a click away. The digital devices, that first empowered us for incoming information highway, suddenly have also become the platform for our cathartic outwards communication.

The power of the bits and bytes are spraying high octane energy to the fires of the Revolutions. I guess we have still not understood, what has been unleashed in the form of breathtaking progress of Technology. It is seeding the germs of the Revolution wider and deeper. Aiding the expanding arc of Revolution’s progression.

Epilogue

In a revolution, as in a novel, the most difficult part to invent is the end

-Alexis de Tocqueville

The naissance and renaissance of Revolution keeps occurring at an un-regular regularity, without giving so much of a dash of hint that it is round the corner. It just erupts once the tectonic plates of emotions have clashed enough, releasing revolutionary energy radiating outwards.

At the heart of each of these Revolutions, the people seem to be still fighting for those same things that ignited and drove Revolutions upon Revolutions of the past – freedom of speech and expression, recognition of democratic rights of an individual, participation in political process, and, and recognizing the basic human right to itself, to things he owns, and to his freedom. In short, seek liberation of soul, mind and body. And allowing him to live. In a just social and equitable manner. With dignity. 

So wait and watch. We seem to have stepped through the inflexion point. And the Revolution is set on a fully strained catapult. It WILL fire!

--La fin--

mg
net.mail.in@gmail.com

All views are personal. Intellectual property rights reserved.

Andaman & Nicobar Islands. Unedited Excerpts from my Travelogue!

Andamans???!!!

 

Thinking of holiday options, Andaman & Nicobar islands (A&NI) as a destination sprang up from nowhere. It was more like a ‘bottom of the heap’ options. But still settling on this option just came easy and naturally. The explorer that I am, and beach & sea loving at that! Another reason that fired my excitement for this place was – well, you gotta wait, till you hear about it a bit later!

Travel to A&NI is kind of undertaking a mystical journey, because you have these images of blue seas, colourful marine life, palms-fringing the beaches and dotting the lands, thick forests touching the shorelines! You could almost feel like Christopher Columbus, setting sail (err... fly) to explore the mystical world.

To get there, you fly for few hours (or you could sail for few days) east-wards from Chennai, for about 1,100 kms over waters of Bay of Bengal (similar distance South-wards of Kolkata), and land into Port Blair, the capital city. Detached from the Indian Mainland, A&NI is a collection of islands - 570 plus - most of them either inaccessible or yet to be accessed. Fewer than 40 are inhabited. And then some islands attract tourists. Port Blair is populated by people from various parts of the country – Tamils and Bengalis forming the collective majority.

Some islands are occupied by natives, exclusively, of different communities and groupings. We heard with bit of awe and spookiness that if you land on some of them, you are likely to be welcomed by pointy tips of arrows, shot at you. Well, certainly not a place to look out for body piercing.

Obviously, automatically, those islands fell off even from my thought process!

***

The City!

Landing in a ramshackle and very ‘sarkari’-ish Port Blair airport, dwarf-ish and grisly yellow-ish, it seemed more like a relic from an era gone by, needing a complete makeover. Stepping into the city and anticipating our usual urban chaos, my view of the city however was quickly transformed in the first few minutes after we hit the roads. The city looked clean, with freshly painted pavements and road markers, in most parts, or atleast through all its main roads, flanked by neat buildings, and the island itself dotted by ubiquitous Palm trees. Though at times, a left or right turn in any alley would bring us back to usual India immediately – chaos, bad roads, and what not, that defines our urban Indian landscape.

***

The digital umbilical cord!

In one aspect, I seemed to have travelled - in one stroke - several years back in time. That is, in terms of cellular connectivity. The question whether ‘2g or not to be’ seemed like an alien concept. The touch-down in Port Blair, and my data connection was knocked-off – well, almost. It oozed at ‘1-web-page-a-day’ / ‘1-email-an-hour’ speeds. And as we ventured further on to other islands, the network bars completely vanished from the phone screen – no voice, no text. My smart phone became completely disoriented and un-smart! If you ever dreamt of connectivity seclusion, dropping off the grid and some such things, this place was all those dreams and things come true!
 

***

Kaala Paani
 

One of the essentials on the to-do list was tour of the infamous Cellular Jail in Port Blair, that stands atop an atoll ironically overlooking breezy and soothing waters of Bay of Bengal. Ross Island and North Bay are visible across the sea. On a clear day, you can see as far as Havelock Island, a distance that is 90 minutes on a catamaran boat.

The Jail complex is large that initially had 7 wings, with the relic now left with 3. Incarceration cells are lined along long depressingly white corridors, arranged in a manner that no inmate could see another, a solitary confinement. The tour of the Cellular jail, aka Kaala Paani, can be over-whelming for some, considering the barbarity of the punishments that this place came to be known for. Complete isolation of inmates, most of whom were our freedom fighters, their tortures and condemnation to death – these are what this place stood for. A banyan tree at the entrance has supposedly witnessed this place since its inception, and infamous deeds that took place there. This building is an important chapter in the history of struggle for Indian independence, which we probably realised and plated as a National Monument only in 1979!

A light & sound show runs in the evenings – weather permitting, from 7 to 8 pm – that simulatingly re-creates a slice of historical events that took place here. On a drizzling evening, with thin spread of tourists, we lined up to watch an hour long show. As we neared its completion, two thoughts crossed my mind – the show itself was produced very well. The quality of equipments produced clear booming sound of the narration in deep voice, in tandem with very dramatic light effects. But eventually the experience seemed grossly underwhelming relative to significance of the place. I left with a feeling that the significance of the place and events that were tied to this National Monument had not been done justice enough!

***

The Denizens of the Deep

From Port Blair, you can sail to Havelock Island. It is your first brush with very blue and crystal clear waters, breezy white sandy beaches, and palm trees filled landscape. And the place presents compelling water sports activities too.

Watching Discovery and NG kind of TV can propel you towards undertaking risky adventure enterprises that are truly at the razor’s edge. On Havelock Island, that enterprise for me took the shape of Scuba Diving – the thing that I was eagerly looking forward to! At some level, pour moi this was the raison d’etre of this voyage. I firmly pushed the fact off my minds that I don’t swim (because I can’t).

The moment and the scuba diving guide arrived. I sat patiently through the enlightening session. The Guide’s talk took us through the ‘understanding scuba diving’, how to do, what to do, why to do, perils of doing, jargons of scuba diving, its dos and don’ts, culminating in signing a release form, and thus responsibility for me disclaimed!

The talk was enough to create sense of adventurous excitement and trepidation in equal parts. At the end of it you could find several reasons to not do it (you could be left with badly injured lungs to death in the extreme case), and only few reasons to do it (adventure, exploration, thrill). Obviously, the latter won! The anticipation of events next morning set the heart pounding. On the other side of a 30-minute boat ride through gleaming turquoise blue waters, we landed on Elephant Beach at Havelock Island.

Like the new recruit, I presented myself to the scuba diving guide. The prequel to hitting the waters went through like a military drill. More instructions followed, previous instructions re-capped. Hand signs, the only medium to communicate under water, were rehearsed (ok, not ok, go up/down, pointing at a problem etc). Post the sermon-ish instructions, a 18 kg rig was strapped on to my shoulders, whose key component was a large oxygen tank. That grimy looking silver cylinder was to be my existence support system – my life depended on what oozed out of it. I anxiously checked the oxygen level meter, knowing enough that the meter needle should stay far away from the red zone on the dial! The eye mask sealed my eyes and nose from the brackish water.

And then that quintessential diver in me took the plunge! Accompanied by the guide, who in a sense was the Guy on Top. In few seconds, the marine life hit my visual field in full force. Electrifying! Couple of meters under water, and life acquired different forms and shapes. And different colours and ambience. It was like a world bred on hues and their various shades.

A pair of fishes almost as large as my body or even larger passed by, giving a jolt of fear and feeling of incredible-ness. A Shoal was parked nearby – its member fishes cleanly aligned, sparklingly colourful in the background of gleaming crystal clear waters. More fishes – singles to in-bunches, their fluid movements like an acrobatics team doing the tandem dance. Purple, neon-ish green and blue, magenta, sparkling yellow, translucent, iridescent (ok, the last one I made up!). As if the Nature was trying to compensate the grisliness of the underwater world by making its denizens as much spritely, brightly, and colourful. And more variety of animals than I can remember!

And then, sighting the Corals! If you ever need a moment to marvel at Nature, Corals can provide you that right one. Their beauty, intricacy of structure, complex mystical landscape that they form, providing a surreal backdrop to the clear waters and marine life.... well I am struggling with words here.

For those moments, underwater world became my abode, and its denizens my companions. I looked at some of them from close quarters, and some appeared to look right back at me – from frighteningly close quarters!

This marine experience is enough to light up my sensory feelings and visualisations that will last a life time!

***

The Forests of Fangorn

Travelling from Havelock Island to Niel Island, the contiguous terrain along the Sea’s shoreline, densely forested, presented a very mystical and at times eerie landscape. I was awed! It constantly reminded me of the similar landscapes straight out of the famed ‘The Lord of the Rings’ (LOTR) movies, particularly the Fangorn Forest. Peter Jackson could have as well shot LOTR in this part of the World with equal effectiveness.

***

Neil Island

An hour’s ride on a government ferry to the last destination of the trip brought us to yet another island. The Neil Island. The Island got even smaller than the previous one (about 7x10 kms). Number of roads got even lesser – 2 actually. And the waters – they became bluer. The population size was flummoxing – at a measly 5,000 types. As a Mumbai-ite who is used to seeing masses and masses of population constantly, and on whose street itself probably more people live, this number clearly stumped me. But then, this is exactly the kind of place, where you can escape from humans and humanity, if and when you wish to.

Climbing down from the boat on to the basic structure that made up the jetty, I paused, and with a sense of urgency soaked up all of 360 degrees visual of the breath taking landscape – sea almost all around you, donning different shades of blue – warm turquoise to almost cold steely blue. The visible corals and marine life underneath in clear waters! The sparkling water, against azure skies – both stretching endlessly, truly stops you in your tracks! When a canvas like this registers on your visual senses, the experience is energising and invigorating. I fervently wished how to make this view and feeling last and lingering forever. One way I can do was shoot – through my camera. I click, click, click furiously many many pictures. Trying to freeze the ethereal beauty that my eyes see.

The unique thing about the beach, which we trekked to to watch the sunset (and thus christened the ‘Sunset Point’), was that you see the sun setting in the sea on the West, and you also see the moon rising from the sea on the opposite side – due to that strip of protruding land flanked by waters of Andaman Sea. I so much wished that I could capture both these celestial events on to a single camera shot. I guess I will have to wait for the photography technology to progress further.

The beach is built up of pristine fine sands, almost white, soft to hold and silky to feel. You want to walk on these sandy beaches like endlessly. Corals of different shapes and sizes and intricacies, washed on to the shores, are scattered all over. I would have loved to pick up many, but for the local law that prohibits to take anything out of this island territory. Yes, that’s true. You could be incarcerated, if caught, unless you have shopped them at a store with a proper invoice.  Remains of some trees, fallen over, reduced only to the woody left over trunk and hefty branches, formed beautiful abstracts of the beach landscape.

Well, you just can’t get enough!

***

The End

In an insane way, I can only wish that if ever in my life, I were to be stranded on an island, it must be a Havelock-ian or Niel-ian kind. Such a grain sized land mass, almost invisible on the map unless you have zoomed enough, and so much enchanting! I can recommend it to the Explorer in you! These are jewels of India, waiting to be explored and developed. Once we are there, it can give it a run for the money to any beach destination in the world.

***

Cheers, and Wishing you a very Happy 2013.
mg
net.mail.in@gmail.com

All views are personal. Intellectual property rights reserved.

The Mayan Apocalypse and New Year Resolution

 

Pre-Mayan Apocalypse era:

 

The year-end brings in its wake its own rituals. As we hurtle towards the end-of-year mark, there is a pressure of another kind piling up. To decide on a New Year Resolution (NYR).

 

I am glum right now to the extent of being philosophical. I am talking to me, explaining to myself the clear and critical need for a Goal in a man’s life. I need to get on the NYR gravy-train like yesterday, like real fast. So that I can feel like a complete man.

 

But moment of truth - for those like me, making of NYRs is a very slow burn torturous exercise. I strongly suspect Michael Jackson crooned ‘Man in the Mirror’ in such humbling circumstances – seems he just wasn’t able to decide on a NYR!

 

I have decided to continue to be in totally spiritual yogic mode. Deep diving in my mind, attempting to mint the best resolutions in town. The type that assures me passage to nirvana, raise my development index, make me feel complete (even if I don’t wear Raymond!). You get the drift?

 

I pull some fast ones, from the accumulated wisdom of years. I am eyeball to eyeball with usual NYR choices:
• I am going to start – a/ walking b/ yoga-ing c/ swimming
Hmmm. I need something more me-worthy:
• getting rippling muscles like Arnold Schwarzenegger (but from my paunch to Arnold-esque muscles, the distance seems exactly as far as Mars is from Earth).
• PADI certification for scuba diving (I don’t know but swimming yet, except for managing to cycle my legs on the fringes of the pool).

 

And verb of each of the activities is being considered with liberal usage of far future tense. Mind is galloping, sifting through probable activities, identifying potential goals, and discarding each of them, serially.

 

And then it hits me like a crashing meteor. I have heard about this Mayan prediction, that end of the World is near. In fact back then in their primitive existence, they managed to put an exact date to it – 21-12-2012. It appears a proclamation emerging from someone’s fixation for the binary.

 

A gleeful smile courses through me. Now wouldn’t it be plain idiotic spending the last few days on this God’s Green Earth, under the rigour and discipline of a NYR, when all we should be doing is having fun, spreading love, and executing our bucket list. I start relaxing, suddenly unclutched by burden of NYR. But my years of indoctrination of Corporate kind has brain washed my psyche. I can’t have a Plan A without a Plan B. What if Mayans were wrong, and Humanity does manage to leap across this Mayan pronounced apocalyptic date line. Seems I am after all going to need a NYR

 

I am quickly back to where I started. A intervention of Divine kind and an inspiration of spiritual kind is now needed. 

 

I start speed-considering them sequentially:

 

Trekking for fitness & hobby?
...hmmm, self visualisation of me climbing mountains, and trekking and walking, carrying immense mound of myself breaks me into cold sweat.

 

Foreign holidays twice a year?
...well that can be when I start getting telephone number size salary. Ok, then once a year? With that expense, I may not be able to get to telephone number size salary!

 

Something to do with Punctuality?
...the pain of being tied to the clock, bonded and slaved to its chronological will appears unpleasant proposition for my liberated soul and free will.

 

Doing something Faster
...mbps size speeds and gigabyte size workloads are already tearing apart my body fabric. Cleary that won’t work.

 

Buying something nice and big and shiny
...hmmm. Apple Mac? BMW X1? Penthouse? But that seemed to be going into evolution in reverse for someone wanting to speedkick to evolve into a higher being, replete with verdant Spiritual greens? Apart, telephone number size salary constraints also exist – please refer above.

 

Drink less... Alcohol. Drink more... Water.
...now this one makes my grey cells bit hazy. I mean I can definitely increase water intake, but what's wrong if there is some amount of distilled barley at the bed of it. I am in deep yogic thoughts .... Hmmmm. Apocalypse will be more certain to arise if I give up my barleys and potatoes extract. And at this age, more water could only mean more pee trips. And that involves more walking. And that means... I am embarrassed spelling out even to myself.

 

I am crest fallen. I am unable to find a bespoke NYR - one that fits me as snugly as a kolhapuri chappal. I am now going through a very emotional despondency filled moments, that can rival the PMS-ing cycle.

 

But the Phoenix in me is determined to rise! On the other side of despondency lies the eureka moment. I am suddenly hit by mine. I am basking in the glory of ‘no-one-ever-thought-it-before’ moment.
Unique!
Totally!!
How about NYR to reduce my carbon foot print! Now I am all for ‘save the environment’ initiative. Green Peace has some very beautiful souls. But like an over pumped tyre going burst, the self-actualisation hits me even faster. Cutting carbon foot print is like starting to walk back towards the point from where we started evolving. It will mean cutting on electricity, and doing activities more of mechanical type, and harnessing the labour in me. That involves pain and suffering of physical or mental kind to SELF. I soon figure that I have got this one so totally wrong. Bubble of euphoria bursts.

 

In following moments, many many more noble deeds and acts are considered. Each one has the potential to transform me into some freshly minted shiny penny. But each are instantly discarded as not fit or desirable for achievement within the circumference of my existence.

 

I have now postponed NYR making. I have fallen back in Mayan comfort of apocalypse-near-us. Mayans were, after all, a primitive tribe, but who managed to schedule arrival of Apocalypse few centuries out. But still, considering the basic and rudimentary tools that they would have worked with, they could have been off the mark of this date by weeks or months or even years. I plan to definitely adopt few resolutions. But only once I am sure that we are gonna survive!

Cheers,
mg
net.mail.in@gmail.com
All views are personal. Intellectual property rights reserved.

Guns N Roses – The Maximum City Concert.

 

 

 

 

Music is in the air. The Heavy Rock variety. Guns N Roses variety, to be more specific. The God of Rock is gonna perform in Maximum City - LIVE. IN THE FLESH. For an entire generation, it is like a concert 15 years in the making.

 

I arrive at the concert locality, hunt for the venue, go through the motions of parking, ticket shicket and what not. Since there is a larger noble purpose that I am on today, I am not going to be bothered by these petty inconveniences. 

 

I join a mile long queue to the admission gates. That’s when I let my body breathe easy. And I start to look around. You suddenly feel you have arrived on a different planet. You are seeing a different civilisation here, and all united in its 'Rock' solid objective. Goatees, black vests, shaved heads, waxed legs, gelled hair, tattooed bodies, pierced body parts, pony tails, mascara-ed eyes, and what nots. It's a heady cocktail of personas, fashion, weird and whacky. This Rock music fraternity could be sighted as far away as from Jupiter. The collective twinkle of their eyes could light up the city tonight. The only connect to Earth seems A 'tea stall on cycle'-wala who is hawking chai n kapee to these urban sophisticates.

 

As the beautiful ochre glow on the horizon starts to retreat behind a curtain of dust, I enter the venue. Find my prime piece of half square feet. A few feet away from the stage. I feel like I am in my temple of Zen from where I will get glimpse of the God and hear Him chant.

 

Giant column of speakers are clearly telling you of what is about to be unleashed. Earthquaking sounds! Giant screen panel on the stage with fast moving images. Psychedelic laser beams of mesmerising hues dancing and twirling all around us to the collective rise and fall of musical strains. Light pods beaming rows of cool white lasers in sky unto eternity.

 

The warm up Opening Act is now on. The mind is drifting fast to Rock Land. I am on auto drive. Foot tapping, body swinging, head shaking in sync with bass guitar, drums, thick metal vocals. The fans continue to fill all around, and behind. Their collective energy seeking a release. In nirvana of rock.

 

The Opening Act lead vocalist just ended a brilliantly performed number. And then he announces he wants to do a dance number! Now this seems to be a looney thought, as swear words immediately fill the air. Some devotees of Rock are ready to get into fist fights with him. I mean we are on serious heavy rock business, mister, and you are talking about dance number. No sacrilege please, we are rock fans. I don’t remember what Opening Act did, it wrapped up quickly after that.

 

There is a certain calm now. Because thunder is expected next. Stage is being given last minute finishing touches by the firang crew. Equipments are being put through final testing that is equal in rigour of next rocket undergoing NASA pre-launch checks.

 

The crowd continues to swell, everyone is surrounded by a sea of rock fans. Some want to ensure that they go through the ritual - of inhaling whatever they want. Columns of aromatic trance inducing smoke here and there is gently riding up on mild winter breeze. Sweet dense heady aromatic fume hits my nostrils. The secondary fume is itself potent enough to uplift me miles high above the ground.

 

While I am seeking fulfilment, at that very moment, the lightning struck, and the earth shook. The symphony of music roared. The blast of music arrived like a deluge sweeping everyone in its wake. The thunder of drums, heavy strains of bass guitar and Axl Rose's signature vocals filled the arena. My Life suddenly seemed to have achieved a higher purpose. Here. Tonight.

 

For the next 3 hours you are hit by wave after wave of pulsating oncoming pure unadulterated rock music, that keeps rising to Anthem-ic proportions. The crowd is in deep trance - punching their hands in the air, the shake of their heads punctuated by each bang of the drum. Bodies swinging as if possessed. It's the fanatical tribal like celebration of Rock music. Powerful color beams and bundles of streaks, kaleidoscopic, pulsating and throbbing, enveloping everyone, booming in unison with the music.

 

The band keeps whipping up the frenzy. Every few moments, crowd is enticed to do sing alongs. The collective pitch of vocals could make Richter scale hit highs. Amidst this, Axl Rose finds time to pronounce dedicating the concert to Mumbai, India and Freddie Mercury. Exactly in that order. More approving and applauding roar from the crowd!

 

I am particularly impressed by Richard Fortus's act on Rhythm Guitar. It is just God-esque. He seems the Adonis who learned to guitar. Red trousers, lithe body, 6 pack abs with layers of taut belly skin, sleeveless open leathers, plenty of tattoos, long hairs flowing on the face. He could move, swing, shake, brood, stare, walk, jump, all while strumming his stringed rig. He keeps hitting the high. His body arced backwards. Guitar thrust out. The left holding the guitar, the right doing things with the strings. The kind of things that sends the crowd roaring. Suddenly his hand will rise in the shape of speeding arc, hitting the strings. And then it falls as swiftly, again hitting the strings.

 

Then there is the animal spirit of drummer. His objective clearly is to hurl exploding sound waves. Fast. Rhythmic. Wild.  The Bass guitarist is producing the noisiest melody, pounding on your ear drums. And Axl Rose’s vocals riding on top of all these. The collective sound is taking us Sky high.

 

Watching these guys perform you now are left with the feeling that playing Guitar or being a Rock Star is the ONLY higher calling in a mortal's life, leaving you seriously questioning your existence. Anything else is just a lowly form of life.

 

By the end, I am drenched in the magic, mystique and music of GNR. Sweet Child of Mine, November Rain, Knocking on Heaven’s Door, Paradise City, Don't Cry and the many many more that were belted out, they were sweet as smell of Roses, and as booming as victory Guns. Insanely fabulous, as someone said! And when the show concluded with the thick columns of paper confetti showered on us, we felt truly blessed.

 

PS: We missed Slash, ex-GNR, his signature hat, black glasses, curly hair. But I am told he is coming to India in February. Now that will be another episode to write about.

 

Cheers,
mg

 

net.mail.in@gmail.com

thoughtsrandomlyorganised.blogspot.in
All views are personal. Intellectual property rights reserved.

Crystal Gazing: Car-Tech!

 

 

I recall this famous spat between Bill Gates and General Motors in which Bill Gates reportedly compared the computer industry with the auto industry and said: "If GM had kept up with the technology like the computer industry has, we would all be driving $25.00 cars that got 1,000 miles to the gallon." On that comment, seems General Motors got back with "OK. But who would want a car that crashes twice a day”!

 

Now, before you want to head out to sue me for attributing those mudslinging statements to respected personalities, let me admit that it is an internet humour.

 

But it does seem that the reality is finally catching up with the humour. With regards to their shiny possessions called cars, the humanity is at the cusp of next evolution. They have driven to an inflection point, at the altar of which the driver... (biological name - homo sapien driverus) is going to have to be sacrificed. For the homo sapien driverus, the coming age will be what ice age was for dinosaurs. And With equal impact – ie their extinction.

 

The car makers have finally woken up to tango with the huge advances in the fields of technology and computing of last decades. And in the emerging scheme of things, it’s the driver that is going to get tossed out...of the car! In the mirror of the future, that reality seems nearer than it actually appears.

 

The machine in the car is raring to claim its liberty from human driving inanities. Google has already put driverless cars on streets of Nevada who have logged in hundreds of thousands of miles without any serious incident. And others are in the fray.

 

There are millions of homo sapien driverus out there waiting to rid themselves of banality that driving can be - painful and time wasting at that. Who wants to be constantly on edge because some blond believes that ‘triple parked’ is fine because there is something called ‘double parked’!  Or because someone’s car is being wobbly and headed straight for yours, because that guy behind the wheels is insanely drunk!

 

When future is that clear, I am wondering about the kind of changes that are about to arrive on the scene. Or shall I say on the road! As far as the physical persona of the car itself is concerned, I reckon it will mutate into a single block of cabin with neat and clean contours and design...more like a luxury room. And the engines will be housed somewhere underneath the Cabin totally unseen unfelt and unnoticed. The mechanical parts will be like a separate platform, but solidly fused with the cabin over it, both fused with massive technology, thus making them an integrated whole.

While today, the cabins are designed to allow for mechanical controls jutting inside the car’s body, that obviously will no longer be necessary. With those sticks and pedals and what not having retreated out, the entire cabin will truly be the passenger’s personal space. And this passenger is a person who is on a set of fast moving enclosure, but nothing to do. What to do next? Answer - keep him occupied.

 

So the next logical thing will be that this guy needs to be entertained, he needs a place to sleep, chat, read, and most importantly..connect.

The windscreen as is known now will morph into a piece de resistance, with embedded Augmented Reality (AR) layers, and will reclaim the dashboard instrumentations as well unto itself. The entertainment cum communication hub will be directly etched into the windscreen. The windscreen will mutate into different types of displays depending on context and requirement. It can show all car vitals (speed, fuel and other meters). You can watch movies and TV. Run a photo slide show. Use it as your computer’s screen. Maps will be embedded into it, with real time navigational abilities. Oh no no, you are never ever going to be lost again! Real time traffic updates. A high speed Internet connection will be available on tap.

Whatever you see through the windscreen can be extrapolated on the screen with AR layers. So moment the India Gate is in view, every detail about it will be populated on the screen. You just gotta speak, and it will obey your commands – start music, show the video, connect to your grocery store and buy provisions, book tickets to your favourite show. Totally voice enabled. And touch too.

 

The entertainment and communication technologies will be tightly integrated. Just imagine.. you can look up a friend on facebook, initiate a call to him right from facebook window, run slide show of his photos; if you notice a nice landscape on a photo, query to know where it is located; do a virtual visit to that place; obviously book your holiday for that place. And all these activities happening through one single window - the windscreen.

The Car’s technology will also have a solid overlay of weather information systems. As the sun will melt into the sky, the headlights, with appropriate level of luminescence will come up on its own. Come rain, hail or sleet, the wiper will activate – again all on its own, and at appropriate wipe speed. Weather warning advisories will flash up.. again on that windscreen. 

 

Seating is going to have to be re-designed. In a manner that it can re-shape in a sleeperette – I guess, planes of today are going to be inspiring on this front. And they – the seats - will be embedded with all sorts of massage presses, knocks and punches to relax your (tired?) body. Mood lighting, limousine kinda facilities, refrigerator, bar, what not.

 

Drunk driving will fade away in oblivion. Rather, drunk while being driven could become popular. I mean on a 1000 mile journey, it could be me, car, and the drink!

 

It will be a marriage worth watching out for – of the mechanical with the binary, while discarding our homo sapien driverus! But then, that march of technology will not be able to stop us from humming the vintage John Denver... Country roads, take me home, to the place I belong, west Virginia, mountain momma, take me home, country roads.

Cheers,

mg

net.mail.in@gmail.com

 

PS: All views are personal. Intellectual property rights reserved.

Juvenile Joys. I wanna be…… Everything at Once

 

‘I wanna be…. I wanna be… Everything at Once’! Now who doesn’t. That’s clearly the demand of the times. I am watching the advert crooning this – my mind declares it to be a slick show par excellence. Microsoft clearly laid out the right trap for me in that Windows 8 ad... snaring me in its sensory experience. The music, the visual, the lyrics… it is creating the right kind of pull in me, pushing the consumer and techie in me to ‘covert’.

It is the Metro Tiles styling in the upcoming Windows 8 that cast some kind of spell on my psyche. This was like an acorn planted in my heart and mind, and bursting to grow out. This was like that morning bus that I could just not miss. Even if un-showered. Because I am thoroughly Metro-ed.

Inspite of Dell’s clear advise – that bordered on defamation - that my laptop is not fit to be upgraded to Windows 8, I am still wanting to be a Man. Strike my own journey. Advise be damned!

The day arrived, Windows 8 arrived too. Right on time, at the appointed hour. I am at the site – the dot com one. The page proclaims ‘A Beautiful Start’ – I nod my head vigorously in agreement.

Click, click… like leaping across 4 steps in one go, I figured that the Rules of the game but ….. they are a changing. From the days of handing down you software via floppies, to CDs, DVDs…well, on the evolution curve, now it’s online. Behind the canary yellow page lies my passage to nirvana - in the intangible shape of a 2 gb download. Now will that deter me to get the newbie from Seattle? I am clearly a man possessed. I don’t doubt the courage in me to download this monster size file, even against the headwinds of download speeds that oozes bandwidth.

Material affections and afflictions can sometimes propel you with that same intensity like a nitrogen tank lit under the Shuttle Discovery. With a visionary foresight, days in advance I had cleared all my schedule for this day. Night included! It was SOS, Emergency and everything else declared at one go. Days of pain staking preparation (backing up data, prepping the comp, going thru installation guides on net and what not) finally culminated in the successful – though fairly longgg – download. Gold has been struck in the form of 2 gb worth of executable code. And it is waiting to be ‘Run’. I am all pumped up. Your favorite gig in town, and you already have the admission ticket for the front row!

Run, baby run. That’s what I could say and do. Click, click. I am seeing a variety of graphics in action on the screen – it’s like an advancing ticker tape, giving me a blow by blow account of Windows 8 progress of seeping deeper and deeper into my computer - in its CPU, motherboard and all the innards. Mind is simultaneously also roiling with all imagined disasters that can strike. But they turn out to be just that.. imagined.

Moment of joy has arrived. The final re-boot of the system – the last of many anxiety driven ones – and then a colorful page comes out. Heralding the new age. And I am on the right side of it. Imagine - Ferrari delivered, and now you are dying to floor the pedal. Hear its vrrrooom.

As the whizzing and dancing colorful tiles unfold - it’s like my Tech nirvana moment. Next several hours are spent in test driving. Click, tap, type, see, watch, feel immersed, derive joy, discover the nooks and crannies, at times feel overwhelmed. Remember, Microsoft has given a whole new role to the ‘Start’ button as well – a fresh start to Start. Learning that small piece of big change itself is enough to overwhelm any average joe. But when you are adrenalized, what not you can learn. Even in the dead of the night!

Now its few days later since then. The joy has ebbed… but it still keeps coming back in spurts as my Discovery continues. The apps, the interface, and all various other inane things dazzle my sub-slept eyes. I am drilling deeper and deeper into the app store, extracting all that I can. I am perseverance personified. Mind is completely Metro-ed by the whizzing tiles. My daily fix of energy shot came this time has come in a glass filled with Metro.

I am clearly enjoying this journey to be ‘Everything at Once’! Btw, are you adrenalized enough to be Everything at Once?

PS: Any leap of technology-faith you take under the dazzle of my thoughts is at your sole risk of cost and consequences.  I do not warrant you will get the same experience or any experience at all. It is obviously a function of how evolved you are!


Cheers,

mg

net.mail.in@gmail.com

 

PS: All views are personal. Intellectual property rights reserved.