With a Sigh…

I was browsing through Haruki Murakami’s Underground, a book based on the Tokyo Subway Gas Attack of 1995. In the preface he mentions the reason he decided to write the book. Apparently he read a letter that was published in one of the American journals. The letter was from the wife of one of the victims. Murakami uses plain English and puts his views forward beautifully:

A subway commuter, he had been unfortunate enough to be on his way to work in one of the carriages in which sarin gas was released. He passed out and was taken to hospital. But even after several days’ recuperation, the after-effects lingered on, and he couldn’t get himself back into the working routine. At first, he was tolerated, but as time went on his boss and colleagues began to make snide remarks. Unable to bear the icy atmosphere longer, feeling almost forced out, he resigned.

…

The letter shocked me. Here were people who still carried serious psychological scars. I felt sorry, truly sorry, although I knew that for the couple involved my sympathy was irrelevant. And yet, what else could I do?

Like most people, I’m sure, I simply turned the page with a sigh. [My emphasis]

Shocked as I was after reading this, I realised that we go through something similar almost on a daily basis. When we read /watch news about people getting killed in bomb blasts, women getting raped, lower caste people being killed for violating the ‘rules’ of the caste system, what do we do? We just flip and page…or change the channel. With a sigh, of course.

Read Me!

Hello!

Yes?

What, you don’t remember me?

No, have we met before?

Yes, we did.

Really? When? Where?

A couple of months back, at Crossword.

Really? Strange, I don’t remember! Anyway, what are you doing down there below the pile of books?

Mister, you kept me there.

Gosh.

Sob…sniff…That expression on your face when you pulled me out of that godforsaken book stand at crossword. I thought my purpose in life was served. You looked so happy. As if you had been looking for me…like..forever. And then you brought me to your home and placed me along side this happy looking bunch of books. Little did I know that their happiness was fake. They too have been lying here, unread. Like them, you went through the first few pages and kept me aside. What kind of a buyer are you, I ask?

Err, sorry, you did not interest me.

That’s just not done. Do you have any idea about the hard work my author put in to finish me?

I’ve paid your author for the hard work. Now let me go. I’ve work to do. You see, I was expecting a nice and easy narration. Not the heavy worded bombardment of boring ideas that you contain.

Hey wait!

Now shu…let go of my hand.

Wait a minute. See this chapter two. It has some really interesting bits. Go through it, will you? I am sure you’ll like it.

Sorry, gotta go!

Shit. Gone again. Have to think about a new way to get him to read me.

In other words, I’ve not read any of my books for a decently long time now. And they scream out at me, like this one above, every time I go near.

Sigh…what to do?

Lyrics for the moment

I have run
I have crawled
I have scaled these city walls
These city walls
Only to be with you
But I still haven’t found what I’m looking for – U2

An Experiment

Does listening to sad songs when happy / happy songs when sad, change one’s mood? I am not sure it does.

If the Moon and Earth had a bitter argument, would it end with the moon saying, “Go on. I know you don’t understand me, you’ve never seen the other side of me”?

Anyway, that’s not what this post is about.

I will be getting up early starting tomorrow morning. A full hour-and-a-half earlier than my daily timing (8.30-8.45). What exactly I’ll do with the additional time on hand is something I have not yet thought about. Suggestions are welcome. Please keep exercise and any such energy-intensive activity out of the list. That said, I might just go out for a jog.

Lyrics for the moment

Hey johnny, jo aaye tu pale yaar…

Sunday Update

One Word for Gutsy Gibbon

One word to describe Ubuntu Linux’s Gutsy Gibbon distribution: Beautiful!

Some observations:

It’s way more user-friendly than the other OSs I have used (Mac not included). Can be customised to any extent…even by a lay user. Since most of the stuff is not built-in and one has to do some searching on ‘How to’ wikis, there is a personal sense attachment and achievement that develops over a period of time. That’s why I can tolerate not being able to watch VCDs (.dat files), a screwed up flash player, a menu bar that changes its alignment by itself and can still be happy.

This is how my desktop looks after I tweaked it a bit:

Many thanks are due to Santhosh for installing the OS. God bless you!

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Sleepless Summer Night

Too much activity in my brain meant that I could not fall asleep yesterday night. So, picked up my brother’s phone, plugged the ear phones and started the music player. Usually I am very choosy about the songs I listen to, so decided to curb that instinct. And it felt good. Accepting whatever played. Lesson learned:Being too choosy can be troublesome at times.

The fusion of songs and thoughts went something like this:

Dus bahane karke le gaye dil…oh le’s change this one…no, don’t pick that stylus…let the song play…stay away! darn…ok.

When will I start writing the way I want to…Mahi we, teri yaad aati hai re…hmm good song…shall we jump to the next one? No, remember the resolution.

Maula mere maula mere…beautifully sung chorus, but Roop Kumar Rathod’s voice sounds constipated, shall we jump? Stop being too pesky.

Yaaron, na fikar the parvaah, bah! this one’s by that copycat Pritam…and it has Sonu Nigam to add to the woes…let’s jump this one…please! No way…a word is a word. Sigh…OK…

Kya mujhe yaar hai…mhmmm used to like this one. not bad..let it play…

Ae mere humsafar…ahaa…those good old days

And so it went on, though my ears were beginning to hurt. Turns out I listened to no less than 29 songs on the trot…fell asleep listening to Rahman and Fateh Ali Khan’s Gurus of peace…woke up with Only you from the same album. Unplugged the head phones. Had a blissful sleep.

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The Sunday Bath

This is the third straight Sunday I’ve had to take a bath. Two weeks back it was Gudi Padwa, then it was Sriramanavami and today it is my dear God Hanuman’s budday. Sigh…can’t they spare me a bath on Sundays?

Anyway, heard this song playing at the nearby Hanuman temple: Aaj Hanuman Jayanti hai, aaj Hanuman Jayanti hai, aisa lagta hai jaise saari jahaan mein masti hai, aaj Hanuman Jayanti hai. Tune borrowed without permission from the yesteryear marriage anthem, Aaj mere yaar ki shaadi hai. These bhakts I tell you….That apart, my good old friend, Sumit Kale is getting married. The dude had a tough time finding a job of his choice till about an year ago…now he’s got the job and a girl too. And here I am, single and ready, and no girl gives a darn. Such is life.

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Take Me With You

My niece came calling yesterday. I was about to leave for work. She came up to the door to say bye bye. The sun was shining down on her face and the shadow of the grills on her face made a pretty scene. I stopped and clicked.

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Chargers Take on Riders

The IPL is on. Deccan Chargers play Knight Riders. it’s 47/2. Gilly and Monkeyman Symonds are out there. I hope they kick the Riders’ ass. At least that will make the other monkey, SRK, quiet.

———–end of update————-thank you for reading————-

Lyrics for the moment

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
‘relax,’ said the night man,
We are programmed to receive.
You can checkout any time you like,
But you can never leave! – Eagels, Hotel California

Nothing has Changed

Sixty years ago:

Jawaharlal Nehru wrote about the caste system in India in The Discovery of India:

The caste system does not stand by itself; it is a part, and an integral part, of a much larger scheme of social organisation. It may be possible to remove some ot its obvious abuses and to lessen its regidity, and yet to leave the system intact. But that is highly unlikely, as the social and economic forces at play are not much concerned with this superstructure; they are attacking it at the base and undermining the other supports which held it up.

The first question that struck me when I read this was: have things changed? The answer was an obvious no.

This was written at a time when India was knocking on the doors of self-reliance. There were leaders like Dr BR Ambedkar changing the fates of people oppressed by the caste system. India has since been able to overcome (to varying extents) so many of it economic problems on its own–poverty, lack of industrialisation, food security and so on. But the caste system (i.e. its evils) continue to thrive. If anything, today’s India is more burdened by them than the one 60 years ago.

Today:

Reservations on the basis of castes in government organisations are omnipresent. Politicians continue to exploit people on the basis of their castes to garner votes. One of the shining examples of this is Maharani Mayawati. She unveiled her own statue a couple of days back. Rahul Gandhi, the heir apparent in the backbone-less Congress (I), is going from one Dalit village to another trying to woo them. None of them have done anything to remove the evils of caste system.

Yet, it would be safe to say that in many parts of India, the caste of a person does not matter much, especially in the big cities and in the private sector. Things have indeed gotten better for the dalits, but only the ones who have educated themselves / their next generation.

The status quo from 60 years ago, remains.

Lyrics for the moment:

Hairat ho sabko, aisa ajooba hai mera jahaan.