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.