Swades Mera (Part 2)… India - An enigma of metamorphosis

Yunan, Misro, Ruma sab mit gaey jahan se

Ab tak magar hai baqi nam-o-nishan hamara

Kuch baat hai ke hasti mit-ti nahi hamari

sadiyon raha hai dushman daur-e-jahaan hamara

What was Iqbal thinking when he wrote these lines into the Tarana-e-Hind. Was this poetic catharsis a result of the metamorphosis he felt happening to once what was widely accepted to be the greatest nation on the face of the earth? I have always been intrigued by these lines, for our country has always been synonymous to a golden bird always happily chirping even while having countless enemies. We have charmed many and still continue to, far-away travelers of the yore like Hieun Tsang, Ibn-Battuta, Mannuci, Tavernier who went back, came again and wrote extensively of the beauty and diversity of this country. We have fought off invaders from the River Tigris to the Indus valley and even taught the kings of Mesopotamia and “Great” Britain a lesson in humility over the last 2500 years. Still the country stands today well on its feet, still smiling with folded hands in humility and in state of constant evolution. Yes, we are the “developing” nation and that tag has rather become a sobriquet for India given we have stood up to the incessant plundering of wealth by foreigners and still been gracious enough to provide home to many of them – the Mughals are one just example.

A few days ago while sitting with a few foreign businessmen a friend asked them “Why don’t we get more investment from USA into Emerging India?” To which came the instant reply - “Half the US doesn’t know where your country lies on the map!” Isn’t this very ironical for any citizen of the nation that was discovered by a man who had set out to find India! Probably since he could never find it, the Americans have continued his legacy for another 500 years.

Also ironical to a biologist’s interpretation, sixty five years ago two parts of our country was severed on the pretext of it being the genesis of better for a certain race and of which one has now become cancerous for our very own existence. Were it the wings of Icarus, that were to soar into prosperity but landed in failure?... ironically still, the poetic lines once composed for our one nation were erased by Iqbal himself to be recomposed for the other (Tarana-e-milli) but the rhyme remains well etched in our minds ”Saare Jahaan se achcha Hindostaan hamara”.

The more educated can keep thumping the tables arguing for better governance, a higher rate of GDP or countering terrorism and corruption, while forgetting that this nation has survived the greater tragedies and follies in history. As a larva does struggle inside the cocoon into its becoming, so is our nation, we have had more than our fair share of struggle to which history stands witness and some we will continue to experience. The metamorphosis shall continue, the beautiful butterfly shall emerge, the world shall see…but not yet…

The Sounds of Silence

Remember the acoustic feel of the Simon & Garfunkel hit of the ‘60s? The compelling music draws you to it and makes you listen again... and in silence. Silence is related to in many ways and forms. For most silence is often correlated with solace, stillness, unhappiness and punishment and for some it is a way to seek enlightenment and self-realization. The world we live in continually moves towards noise so much so that it’s deemed pollution. In fact the silence of one person threatens the peaceful existence of the society. Even the observation of silence at unfortunate events becomes discomforting to many. The truth is that both Silence and the absence of it can be accepted only intermittently, the continuity creates a disturbance.

Try walking into a Bahai faith temple and the ubiquitous silence in the hall reveals itself differently, the mind apprehends the vacuum and the changed environment makes you think – here lips are motionless but the thoughts reverberate inside your cerebellum. The vow of silence by Anna Hazare recently created more than the combined cacophony of imposing opponents. The silent approach to the execution noose by Saddam Hussein left people thinking. The “Silence of the Lambs” is actually about the numbness of not being able to scream or cry oneself in a moment where you would want to. Two mute people use the medium of hands and expressions to speak to each other in existence of silence. Thus the sound inherent in the silence becomes the noise and challenges the very notion of “Silence”.

Silence belies the meaning and the reason behind it. You may be attracted to silence but once you are subjected to the state of silence you would probably scream out loud. You shut off the idiot box because you can’t tolerate the rambling on a channel, only to switch it on again when silence engulfs you. You want silence around at your workplace, but the sudden lack of noise as you walk in over to your desk makes you think “Is something wrong around here?” Silence becomes some thing that we long for but we don’t know what to do with, much like the dog that chases each passing car.

…And why so serious?! While you may judge if silence is good or bad, wanted or unwanted, it actually depends on the situation and the subject. Does a stock broker really want silence on the trade floor? His life and wage depends on the incessant clangor, silence would mean a Black Friday!! Music too inherently depends on silence in some form or another to distinguish other periods of sound and allow dynamics, melodies and rhythms to have greater impact. Does it imply that silence too is a sound? Think aloud in your silence….

"IF"

“If” - The beautiful poem on the entrance of Wimbledon courts by Rudyard Kipling.

If you can dream - and not make dreams your master;
If you can think - and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it...

“IF” is most likelihood the most exciting word in true sense that comes out of the dictionary. “If” rides in with such possibilities that otherwise may create nondescript landscape. What if the word “if” and its reason never existed? We would have lived a life without options, alternatives, retrospect, introspect, and maybe any thought into the future. Our actions would never be evaluated and there would be no judgment. Statisticians like me wouldn’t have existed because the entire concept of probability rests on the two letter word “IF”. Now that opens up the bag of thoughts, let me leave aside myself for a moment (when I am maybe only a proton in size compared to the larger scheme of the universe) and think WHAT IF the following never happened:

WHAT IF God had not created Eve…?
WHAT IF both earth and sun revolved around each other…?
WHAT IF you could sleep and wake up at your will…?
WHAT IF you could travel time and see the future…?

Doesn’t life suddenly become eventless, unexciting and predictable? Because there is an “If”, we live with endless possibilities and boundless energies. The last question is most often heard of, and if you ask me it is a waste of thought, the reason being if you could see your future you would try to correct it now and change its course but if that’s possible then the future you saw initially was never true. Why would you want to believe in the future you see when you know you could change it…? If we get to see the future perpetually then we would never look into it. It’s just like a toy a child wants badly until he has it, once he gets it the enigma is solved and life with it becomes uneventful.

WHAT IF I could be perfect? Sounds wonderful but perfection isn’t valued for long, it is the eccentricity and idiosyncrasy in world that defines it. We exist to make things happen, my friend’s 5 year old son once asked his mother “What if all the students score the same in the class examinations, who comes 1st then?” I cannot explain and find a reasonable conclusion. The dilemma wins the war over the clarity of thought. A single instance of putting a “What if XYZ event in the history of the world happened differently” can steer the entire sequence of events into a new universe of possibilities. “If” is indispensable because it brings us into the face of reality, at the same time “If” moves us into a diverse range of potentials. Place an “If” before your future actions and not before your past actions… live in the moment, rise to the challenges “if” poses to your being. WHAT IF brings worry, caution, fear, sadness when you reason but explodes you into an enchanting realm when you dream…. Realize the madness and happiness even if unrealistic and temporary it brings…

Dream today, “what if” tomorrow is not the one you want to be in….
And seize the day, “what if” tomorrow never comes!!

Dewdrops and a little bit of life….

The refreshing splatter of the first monsoon rain drops on the window by my office desk, the cloud cover causing the opacity in my view of the Powai hills, country music playing on my blackberry and the sudden cheerfulness around was enough to push me on to a cup of Java and a new word document. I had this sudden impulse to express so much after the inertia that had lasted on my blog for close to 18 months. Nothing goes without a reason and this inertia too was due to a transitory phase in my life, Delhi to Hyderabad propelled me to start this writing sojourn, Hyderabad to Bombay was a jittery road and now that I know Bombay to Delhi isn’t happening soon I feel that I need to release the inflexibility of my mind. I have changed from loathing the city during the first one year to actually start exploring and enjoying it in the next one.


A lot of this change is also due to the 5 weeks I got to spend in US last year and upon return suddenly my life and the prevailing circumstances weren’t what they used to be. NO, I didn’t change much, nothing accentuated but the situations around and people who made up my world changed. Initial jerk was way too much to bear but doesn’t that always happen when you are in the backseat of your car and trust the drivers skills on a darkest stretch of road, he is speeding and you’re sleeping just when he hits the speed breaking rows of cat-eyes… each organ in your entire system rolls up and down like a slot machine. I too woke up with such a shake from my slumber as if slapped hard as well poured on with a bucket full of chilled water. I tried to walk but stumbled like a baby trying to make his first steps unassisted. This inebriated state of my mind I tried to camouflage using actual stimulants, alcohol justified the situation to the bystanders but I knew the actual drug was the one in my mind and rolling down from my eyes….

The mind knows when the drug stops working on you, the world can smile at the joker on the street each day but cant bear him crying the second day… they move on leaving him unnoticed. It was my turn to move on without looking at the empty backpack left… when I let it go I knew it was a little more than I would have wanted to carry on with me, in fact I could give a little rest to myself leaving the baggage away for a while and walk alone… the walks that started in a group of many and had outpaced me now challenged me to run and catch up with the herd. The desire to outrun begins either when you are nearing the finish line and you realize the potential or when the space between you and your opponent is nothing but a drop of time. I took the reins to my life, got back in shape and believed that when you are in a race of 300 circles losing one doesn’t matter because in the end its persistence and not strength that wins.

A new day, a new way with the new year and I chanced upon a new beginning… the catharsis had ended and the reflux of happiness began as I started to become what I was years ago. I made my resolutions and stopped being afraid of myself, this time it was going to be me… I am no more in the pillion but very much facing the wind because I know what lies behind me is lost to me and as they say the greener pastures, fair winds and sunny skies are all for me… Way to go, cheers to life!!

Difficult seas of diversity here….

The diversity of India is seldom only spoken of than realized; it is only when you travel the length and breadth of the country that you truly acknowledge the fact. Well diversity itself can be interpreted in several ways - we are a diverse country by means of culture, religion, region (linguistically decided), wealth and even sexual orientations. What is truly amazing is the fact that all of these diversities seem to coexist and cohabit in such a labyrinth that it is difficult to distinguish them apart, you may find yourself to be a color blind person looking at the rainbow, while you notice some differences you cannot really distinguish.

Past few weeks were spent doing a lot of things that I wanted to – like going out with some underprivileged children to a picnic, going back home to Delhi, reading, visiting the popular places of worship in Mumbai (a long pending task), donating blood etc. As time permitted I could do all this and more, for which I was quite self satisfied in the end.

I started with donating blood at the camp organized at work; after almost a year it actually felt nice as the blood went down the tube into the bag. It was my 12th donation (or 13th including an aphaeresis donation) and I felt as nice as I could have. What did not go well was the experience with the Bombay Hospital doctors and staff who had come over, they arrived late and packed up half hour early leaving more than a dozen expecting to be donors disappointed. No amount of requesting and convincing to stop them even five more minutes. In all my experience of organizing blood donation camps, I never have seen such an instance. More than anything I was disappointed that a lot of these people had mustered the courage to come forward to donate the first time, something now they would not want to try again after being turned away.

Next on the cards was the picnic to Nehru Planterium and Taraporewala Aquarium with the underprivileged children from an NGO A nice day spent together, which enriched our minds with knowledge, and rejuvenated us in the company of these young growing minds it was time to head home. Maybe what will change for these young minds will be the way they will gaze and try to read the patterns in the night sky. One good lesson the narrator conveyed was the humbleness to be felt in each of us after acknowledging the granular existence we have in the world of galactic proportions. The day long trip completed the panorama with the sky above, the land we live in and the sea beneath.

Just before leaving for Delhi, I had long day to finish with nothing to do so me and my room mate packed our luggage and headed out to a pilgrimage to the famous worship places in Mumbai. We started with the dargah of Haji Ali, a serene place to spend your time away from the haggling crowd of people and constant pushing. We also sat on the sea rocks and collected crab shells. The cool water surrounding the dargah is quite relieving. What made me a little unhappy was the commercialization outside the dargah, which had caused garbage littered all around. Next stoppage was Mahalaxmi mandir which was a 1 hour long wait in the sun to reach the temple gates, and in the this time the queue was at the mercy of the Mumbai police who were slapping innocent visitors to make sure the queue was a geometrically straight line. I made sure the havaldar kept his hands away from me.

Similar experience of waiting in lines at the next stop at Siddhi Vinayak temple, though I could have paid 50 bucks to arrange for a smaller VIP queue but chose to be a simpleton. Had a small quarrel with a shopkeeper outside who forced me to buy a basket of offering to the deity saying “This is mandatory, you cannot go inside without it”, seemingly constant bribing thrives here. I was not conforming to the ethos so felt a little untrue in the eyes in my love for the god. I wasn’t poor but there could have been a poor person in my place who called off his visit to the temple incase of a mandatory 51 bucks offering. Anyways after 20 mins of queuing up behind almost 2000 people I had moved about 15 feet and a long zig zag way to go, the priests declared that the mandir was to be closed for cleaning so they removed all barriers and asked the people to rush in for darshan. A queue that would have otherwise taken 1.5 hours was cleaned up in fifteen mins flat, and as I entered the bhavan for about 30 seconds the priest once again declared that one was responsible for their belongings such as purses and ornaments worn. All those 30 seconds I was either thinking out how to keep my purse safe or trying to take back the Prasad from the offering I made to the deity.

It is needless to now express how I felt after it, just looked at my watch it was 5:15 and I had to rush back to the airport. A Taxi – local train – autorickshaw later I was sitting in the aeroplane ready to fly back to home, to family and to another such diverse land. From 27 degrees heat to 2.7 degrees in cold and in less than 2.7 hours, such is the diversity we speak of. All through I retired myself to a book “India – A million mutinies now” by Sir VS Naipaul which is a great work on this subject. I hope I travel more to many a places and experience a little more.