m a n u s c r y p t s

In my mind, I can still hear that Ladakhi greeting, though its been a few days since our return from Leh. There are stories of mountains and mountains of stories I could tell you. Of the trip that almost didn’t start because the taxi service got the day and month right, and booked us a cab for 2010!! Of the Delhi weather which over delivered on the warm welcome premise at 40 deg C.

Of the jovial captain of the Leh flight, who said that one third of our trip cost would be ‘made up’ by the first view of Leh. Of him being proven right by a sight so magical that one could hear a collective gasp as the lofty snowy peaks were seen for the first time through the windows. Of the mountains that for one moment looked the magnificent phenomena they were, and in another looked like clay models that kids made for school exhibitions.  Of another statement the captain delivered on – a free camel ride, he called it – the landing at the Kushok Bakula Rimpoche Airport.

Of being on a high already and wondering whether one would be hit by the much written about high altitude sickness. Of being phlegmatic while popping pills and drinking bitter cough syrup at the first sign of phlegm. Of wandering through streets where tiny wrinkled old people chanted with prayer wheels in hand, and the next generation listened to heavy metal and peddled rock bands’ skull tees. Of wandering up mazes to see the ruins of the old palace and then lazing in the relatively palatial comforts of the hotel. Of waking up at dawn and setting out on journeys in which every view was click worthy, of getting tired of clicking and relying on the video mode far too much, even as the mind captured images. Of the visit to the gurudwara, where one was caught between the twin pleasures of the awesome sweet tea and the warmth from the cup.

Of gazing at the mighty river that spawned a civilisation, and wondering how much has changed for the nomadic tribes that live in tents and roam about with their Dzo (a hybrid of yak and cow). Of the noisy rush of air as one climbed up mountains to gompas (monasteries) that awed you with their silence. Of glass cases that carefully and lovingly stored centuries old manuscripts and a realisation of the tiny timeframe of six years of blogging. Of the excitement of staying in a tent, quickly followed by the realisation of how exactly one could feeze to death, and then feeling an intense thankfulness for one’s supple and warm bed companion, despite the rubbery exterior -the hot water bag.

Of boarding passes that got you to 35000 ft in no time, and mountain passes at half the height that made you crawl for almost three hours to get to them. Of being driven up narrow mountain roads, slipping on snow every now and then, and wondering if your final destination was going to be up or down. Of pitying the military guys who lived in the severe cold, and then muttering at them for making decisions that cost us an entire day. Of creating yellow snow after getting tired of holes in the ground and portable loos that cleared up the blocked sinuses in no time!! Of seeing a lake at 13500 ft- Pangong, shared by two countries, that competed with the sky for the shades of blue that could be displayed. Of a heavy snow fall that forced one to get out of the comforts of the push back seats in the vehicle and attempt to push the vehicle, which pushed back!! Of the disappointment of knowing that nature took only a few minutes to shatter one’s well laid plans.

But most importantly, of the wonderful wonderful person who took it upon himself to make sure that we got to see all the sights we wanted to – Tsewang. He, who confessed after much questioning, that he was having his first meal of the day at 3 pm after driving 9 straight hours through horrible conditions at altitudes above 14000 ft.  And then proceeded to drive up to Khardung La, the world’s highest motorable road at 18380 ft-  all in a day’s work, he said. Nothing I said or did could assuage my guilt. Of begging and pleading and cajoling cops to let us through after the official closing time.

The long journeys through the mountainscape pushed random thoughts into my head- of heaven, and whether living at such high altitudes meant that one was closer to God. Of whether the milieu that nature offered in these places instilled the compassion and concern for fellow humans, that I saw in many around, and if that was the secret behind the peaceful and happy faces, despite the hard conditions and lack of even common facilities in several places. The great heights and its citizens gave me perspectives and a sense of harmony that I still seem to be carrying with me, hoping that the daily grind won’t take it away.

As I looked at Leh before I stepped into the airplane, I realised that this might be the only time I’d visit this place. I also realised that perhaps my memories would fade, and I might forget the images I could now easily recollect in my mind. But I like to think that there’s one picture that will never go away – the lofty peaks of the mighty Himalayas, glistening with snow, and a light breeze that causes the flags at the monastery to flutter silently, all of this can only make up the background for the innocent, peaceful joy on Tsewang’s face as he plays with the Lama kids, and as he sees me approaching, he  asks me with his customary smile, if I’m ready to continue the journey.

until next time, a daily lama

PS. You can catch a few photos here.

Herman Hesse

Somewhere in Pankaj Mishra’s ‘The Romantics’, there’s a conversation about ‘Siddhartha’ and it being a reason for a Westerner’s interest in Buddhism and India. A conversation, not my view That, and the fact that it also finds mention in Mishra’s other book ‘An End to suffering’ is primarily what led me to the book.
The book is best described as the story of an alternate version of the Buddha, and the Buddha features in the story too, including a conversation.
The message is perhaps like a quote I read somewhere, which amounts to “There are many ways to the top of the mountain, but once there, the view is the same”
The arguments are compelling, and makes you think, not just about the end, but also about the ways in which you get there. I especially liked the thoughts on the concept of time, the ‘goal vision’ obscuring everything else, and ‘the opposite of every truth is also true’.
Forget Buddhism, it is an excellent read on life, what we strive for, and my favourite paradox – the meaningfulness and the meaninglessness of our existence.

I’ve always maintained that even religion should have a shelf life. This comes from a belief that religions were created at different times, basis the prevalent culture, accommodating the scenarios- natural and human created, and lifestyles in those times. The teachings were aimed at a more meaningful existence for fellow human beings, considering their existence then. Religion is a function of time and times.

However, we seem to have held on to the words, more than the spirit, and thus perhaps failed to internalise the messages that are built into the texts. That could be the reason for the strife around us.

Does a new time warrant a new religion? I don’t think so. In times when the mass shrinks and the individual and customisation rises, perhaps the opium of the masses needs to be re-looked at too.  I think spirituality and the connection to a higher force is a deeply personal thing, and should not be subject to the constraints of a religion. It should come from within rather than without, and I think such an understanding might lead to better lessons with a much longer shelf life. These lessons would make us better human beings, with a deeper understanding and compassion for everything around us, and therefore make the world a better place.

Religion is not the path to salvation. A life lived with a better understanding of the spirit of the messages in it, could be. What say you?

until next time, keep the faith

Last week had a very holiday theme to it. Technically, there was only a day off, but the particular day was different for different places..and work places. I had the day off on Wednesday and D had an off on Thursday. Well, a far cry from the good old days, when the Puja holidays was an eagerly awaited annual event.

Its appeal lay in the fact that school books could be ‘legally’ laid aside for a few days. I still remember treating the occasion with all the seriousness it demanded, and even including comics in the book-ban. As i grew older, non-school books were gently eased out of the process. So were many accessory rituals like the early morning bath and going to the temple.

Zoom to now, when the single day off is just another holiday to me. D does try her best to retain the last vestiges of an occasion that now exists only in the memory archives. But the link to the original event is all but severed.

There are two losses that i mourn for. The first is of character – the character that differentiated and defined each of these holidays. The character that made sure each of these holidays created specific memory associations (our memory, i think, used folksonomy long before web 2.0) that would last decades after the holiday was last celebrated in the way it was meant to be. The memories now created are just another multiplex movie and a few ‘upto 50%’ off deals. I think we are celebrating more, only we have forgotten what we’re really celebrating. (pardon the generalisation) The second is of the innocence – individual more than collective. From the child who had oodles of faith and belief in the sanctity of the rituals he undertook, and derived great pleasure from it, to the cynical adult who battles hard to regain his faith, albeit in the form of spirituality.

until next time, keep the faith

There’s a theory about the internet I read somewhere that i keep bringing up in different contexts. It goes that if collective consciousness is the path to God, then the internet makes a great first step. To be in touch with the cosmos is perhaps the ideal state in spirituality, and while the cosmos does extend a lot beyond our planet, we could definitely start with being connected here first. And it is in this regard that I rate the potential of the internet to be very high.

Every time we log in to facebook or orkut or twitter or any social medium out there, we come across people and things we didn’t know about before. It gives us perspective and changes our perceptions about who and what we are. And that reminds me of another quote that I keep using, from the Matrix series “….I do not see coincidence, I see providence. I see purpose. I believe it our fate to be here. It is our destiny…” To me, that rings very true for the web. There is a reason why a tool like this has been brought into the life of arguably the smartest species on this planet, and I for one, believe that its role is to further our evolution and bring back things that were lost somewhere along our ‘progress’ – compassion for fellow beings, and the willingness to contribute to things that lie beyond our selfish interests.

And with that, I end my droning foreword, and would like to introduce to you, this website I came across – Rang De. No, this is not about Bollywood, but about adding color to others’ lives. I’d written about it in my other blog, and finally registered last week. The idea is to extend micro credit from socially conscious folks to the financially disadvantaged. And mind you, its not charity – you get back your money, with a modest interest.

So I’d like to tag you guys on this. If you’re reading this, I request you guys to check out the site, and write about it (if you have a blog) or spread the word in any way you can. I have just used it for the first time, and  just got a report on how my investment would be spent. So maybe you can start with a small amount and see how it works for you. But we do so many trivial tags, maybe we could do one for what seems a noble cause. It will hopefully connect us and give more meaning to lives – ours and others’.

until next time, add some color

Decision making is something we try to be good at, maybe it has something to do with the little bit of a control freak we have in all of us. And we judge some as good decision makers, and some as bad, not pausing to think that the seemingly good or bad decisions can be reversed so quickly by a twist of fate. Of course, there are some who would refuse to attribute even a small iota of it to fate, but then that’s an age old argument, so I’d not want to get in there now.

Meanwhile, though decisions affect any number of people from an individual to nations, depending on who takes them, I tend to believe that the control that we have been given seems to be reducing with each passing period. No, not as individuals, but as humanity in general.

Reading mythology, Indian and otherwise is taking its toll on me , so humour me. Every civilisation speaks of gifted individuals, and several of them who could cause epidemics, control the elements of nature, and change things in a way that would be inconceivable to us (that a human could do such things) Our mythology (which I believe to be history as opposed to myth) has a liberal splattering of sages who could give curses, heroes who could change the course of battles with a single weapon and so on.

Stories, you say, but do you think that at some point of time, a higher power trusted humans enough to give them the liberty and the ability to do such things, and because of what we have done to ourselves, it has been taken away from us?

until next time, fall from grace

… and the song that was playing on TV when i switched on the comp to check the feeds happened to be Joan Osborne’s ‘One of Us‘, a personal favourite, mostly because of the lyrics. And one of the feeds that popped up first linked to this, a mail from God.
Now its very rarely that I have posts that links to things that make a good forward but there are times when that cool line from The Matrix Reloaded, which i keep mouthing regularly, is made believable – “We have not come here by chance. I do not believe in chance. …….. I do not see coincidence, I see providence. I see purpose. I believe it our fate to be here. It is our destiny.” And so, I thought i should do my bit by spreading the message.
The reason I like that mail is because it keeps things simple, and brings up a point that I’ve increasingly come to believe in – the overbearing influence of money, on society.
Before you write it off as a pro-socialism tirade, I do believe that as a tool, money has immense amount of benefits, but when the accumulation of money becomes a purpose in itself, we become the tool, and that’s what’s increasingly happening.
Meanwhile, on a sidenote, the message also perhaps answers austere’s recent question. Death is quite possibly God’s way of saying ‘long time, no see’

until next time, counting my blessings

So, how did it all start off? An understanding that there was a higher power that controlled destinies and the world around beyond any level that a man could aspire or imagine ? A need to connect to this entity and lay out the easiest way to do so? A way of bringing together people and making them work towards a common goal? A physical platform to relate to the belief in a metaphyical entity? Perhaps, and perhaps not.
Somewhere in between, came the ones who claimed to have gone much closer to the entity than their peers. And they formed the higher power through prisms that were based on their individual realities and expectations, and their peers, who at best, were a confused lot, followed. Faith became religion and from a thought, became a set of practices, and from us, we became us and them.

And that makes me wonder whether He, any He, feels the need for religion. And brings me to an unintentionally hilarious but profound statement from an old Malayalam movie, where the character states, in all seriousness to a priest, ” In religion, and in sex, I don’t feel the need for middlemen”

until next time, profundity or profanity?

The church wasn’t a large one. But we reached early, and so its emptiness gave it a magnificence disproportionate to its size. The empty pews and the stained glass added to the effect. The bride and the groom exchanged rings and took their first steps into holy matrimony. It’d been a long time since I’d been to a church wedding and thus it made a great experience.

saw the movie last weekend and immediately decided to revisit a certain mr.asimov…. once upon a time i was an asimov freak, more into the foundation series than the times and therefore works before the foundation..so “i, Robot” was just one of the books i read because it so happened that it was written by asimov and i couldnt find any good ‘foundation’ book in the library… ah, those were good times, times i spent in cochin, rainy days spent reading books and listening to music.. but thats another post..:)
without revealing the plot and suspense, asimov discusses a future with robots able to do a whole lot of stuff humans did and even further, when “random bits of code got together” and developed emotions in robots, to the level where they decide to protect us from ourselves by making us, their creators, virtual prisoners…
so i ask myself, am i my creator’s robot, who has developed feelings and emotions over time….
because i am but a mass of flesh and bones much like the metal that constitutes a robot’s body..when my creator says deactivate, i die, much like the robot which responds to the human ‘deactivate’ command…
have i evolved to this state because of random bits of code, in my case, genetic matter, which got together, over centuries to become what i am now…millions of centuries from cell to plant to animal to a thinking, feeling human who can record his history and develop a feeling that there is someone who made him, and then debate that belief.. one who can stare at the night sky and wonder about his existence….
will my future generations discover god , physically, and further on decide to protect him from himself and also decide to write their own future, make their own set of robots who will ultimately do to them what they did to their creator? will i see it happen, from somewhere?
maybe, but what you can definitely see now is
manuscrypts trivia
a good forward
Marriage
after the wedding, the groom lays down the following rules:
“I’ll be home when I want, if I want and at what time I want-and I don’t expect any hassle from you. I expect a great dinner to be on the table unless I tell you that I won’t be home for dinner. I’ll go hunting, fishing, boozing and card-playing when I want with my old buddies and don’t you give me a hard time about it. Those are my rules. Any comments?”
His new bride said, “No, that’s fine with me. Just understand that there will be sex here at seven o’clock every night…whether you’re here or not.”
Marriage (Part II)
Husband and wife had a bitter quarrel on the day of their 40th wedding anniversary!
The husband yells, “When you die, I’m getting you a headstone that reads,’Here Lies My Wife – Cold As Ever.’
“Yeah?” she replies. “When you die, I’m getting you a headstone that reads,”Here Lies My Husband Stiff At Last.’”