Well...what a start to the monsoon in Chennai!!! Its been an ocean so far and all hell has broken loose as usual whenever it rains in this city. Water water everywhere...and not a drop to drink. Im not here to talk about the worst shower or the best monsoon spell...im just here to tell you about how it feels to be in Chennai at such times...
Firstly, a rain drop in chennai is like a start to a major celebration and covers the Headlines of the newspapers and the top stories in news channels. People hit the streets and venture to experience the monsoon breeze and smell the wet sand that evokes a lot of sentiments. Its basically a festival short of Diwali for a celebration even if it drizzles in Chennai...you can imagine the festivities when the monsoon sets in. Its such a relief and makes life just lighter and a gives us a little something to celebrate about. For people in Bangalore, its like a daily ritual...boring...hahaha (okay okay no backlashes)
Secondly, Chennai is one of the most toughest places to be when it rains (I am not competing or comparing to Mumbai). To be honest, walking around or even driving around is a nightmare...but again, the show goes on. Ranganathan Street is a good example. The best place to be in such times is in office or at home. The perfect moment being sipping a hot cup of tea and a bowl of pakoda...what can I say...just perfect. If youre in office, unwind, daydream of duets or walk around to enjoy the weather...the boss can wait for a while according to me...try this out, youll not get fired. Thinking about crushes, love, friends, hits and misses blah blah...wherever your mind and heart can take you. Sales guys can have a break at the nearest Nair Tea kadai! Others can go to the Vending Machine.
Next, the best way to travel in Chennai at these times is by our very own PTC or MTC - the bus. The monster vehicle that makes its way in all the sea of water and vehicles to reach its destination with ease and elan...Never in chennai should you take out your two wheelers...the moment you do so...youre doomed. The abuses we give and take are in the air and no ones listening. You cant see your vehicle's tyres and you dont know where the next pothole is. The buses are the best, but wait, theres a twist here too. I am not the only person thinking of doing this...its the whole city. I must admit, we are quite united in what we think as the best way to get out of a mess. We do it as a team. The whole city rides on the bus and makes it virtually impossible to even hold on to a railing of the bus (leave alone getting in). The bus is at a mighty tilt and rides brave through the storm and comes out victorious (how inspiring to see such a beast beat the people's misery to pulp). Few days back, the ride that usually takes 30 mins, on that rainy day took me 2 1/2 hours ( i had to change buses too and take a different route).
The drainage system in the city is so bad that what is supposed to lie beneath is up on the surface, ending up with all the water that comes from the left, right, centre and above. I wouldnt want to accuse the government of doing nothing but of the contractors who failed to secure the city from such disasters...wonder who ate the money...something to think about. The incomplete constructions and destructions also add up to the agony of the city and makes life even worse in the eyes of the senior citizens. Yelling cops with knee boots dumping some sense into pedestrians to walk safe...the point is that the footpath is as distrought as the roads. Too many corrupt compromises have resulted in a literally hollow city with too many loopholes. Enough of my ramblings of a fed up citizen...
Finally, some fond memories. I still remember our PT Class getting cancelled due to the rains, the government declaring a holiday fearing rains on a day when theres sunshine, swimming our ways to school on a working day when it poured, hoping some of our teachers would be absent, playing cricket on those wet roads, catching a cold, jumping on the pool of water near our walls, paper boat competition, playing trump cards etc. The monsoon does bring back a lot of memories. There are surely many more than what I have listed.
Make sure you enjoy this monsoon, because it will take another year till we see another. With the change in the climate, we dont even know when it might arrive and with what it might come. Be aware of your surroundings and stay safe. Beware of cut wires, bad roads and dug corners. Take precautions and enjoy the weather. Smile people, this is Chennai's moment of glory...
October 23, 2008
October 10, 2008
Jam Packed
Imagine you are on a corporation playground on a festive weekend where there are about 20 - 25 cricket matches being played where there are energetic little boys from 10 years onwards to the huffing and puffing 40 year olds...this is as close to getting slammed smack in the middle of a T.Nagar traffic jam. I'd doubt if you can make through this mess, finding your ways out to a peaceful exit. Welcome to Chennai's own cricket mania on a weekend - worse than a traffic jam or a festive shopping season (debatable though). I do not aim to defy any city's passion for the game especially competing on the number of matches per ground - this is just to give a perspective on Chennai's craze for the game...
Firstly, the craze in Chennai is about the street cricket scene where we play with the tennis ball...to be honest...this is more tough and competitive than the professionals can handle...(that was a little blatant...) and since we all cannot afford the gear, we take up to this weapon of choice on which theres even a movie made as a tribute to those who have donned the streets of Chennai. Now, each corporation ground has a lot of other sports facilities in place, but this doesnt stop some of us from assuming every post and pole as the wicket and any straight patch of land which is barren enough to be called a pitch...now you can imagine...masters of economy in space...
The funny part come right in the morning where we have to literally invade in order to book the pitch and scout for your rivals around. Next would be set the boundaries which invariably keeps getting moved around because most of them are moving objects...including huge block of stones which invariably get used as wickets for a lot of the deprived...after everything is set and all ready to start...we have multiple matches running into their starts and ends...all of this is as early as 5.30am to 6am...
Match begins in all the frenzy and all the hue and cry...foul umpire calls, crazy ass fielding, big hits, flying wickets, fast bowling, cracking jokes, master local sledging, field setting, drop catches, wandering cattle and the stray dogs, one off audience and last minute inclusions. At this moment...there are at least 300 people packed in this ground and it is impossible to spot your game ball and the respective fielders...this is now the act of camouflage and its guerilla warfare time. Being a fielder is funny now...distractions in plenty...you have no clue who might be appealing and going for the run...at times...watching other matches are just as nail biting and worth watchin than fielding for a match thats almost a goner...here is where the ball slips past our sight and heads towards a boundary...incoming abusive moments follow as well...bumping into many of the players in the field and then theres something that hits us...the game ball...both doubt where it belongs or where it comes from...sometimes we get hold of the wrong game ball which might be heading towards the boundary and throw it to our boys...one good reason to start a fight...as we know...the Chennai crowd is educated and a quite a sport...but when its fight-time...theres no mercy...
Win or lose...at the end of the day, in all the mayhem, having fun is the ultimate objective. The ultimate moment in such a field is the organized chaos that surround us and in that whirl, makes us forget our woes and worries...no wonder even married men and boys with arrears tread these grounds...this part of the planet for many of us, is the holy ground where every moment is festive where the spirit of the game is alive and roaming in all the madness...this is life...
Ever wondered how this is more chaotic than the traffic zones in Chennai but still destined to generate more fun...pay a visit to these abodes and youll know for sure...if you can survive without being bumped by another or bumping into another...youve certainly won your ground and gained your way to peace and well being...on and off the roads.
Firstly, the craze in Chennai is about the street cricket scene where we play with the tennis ball...to be honest...this is more tough and competitive than the professionals can handle...(that was a little blatant...) and since we all cannot afford the gear, we take up to this weapon of choice on which theres even a movie made as a tribute to those who have donned the streets of Chennai. Now, each corporation ground has a lot of other sports facilities in place, but this doesnt stop some of us from assuming every post and pole as the wicket and any straight patch of land which is barren enough to be called a pitch...now you can imagine...masters of economy in space...
The funny part come right in the morning where we have to literally invade in order to book the pitch and scout for your rivals around. Next would be set the boundaries which invariably keeps getting moved around because most of them are moving objects...including huge block of stones which invariably get used as wickets for a lot of the deprived...after everything is set and all ready to start...we have multiple matches running into their starts and ends...all of this is as early as 5.30am to 6am...
Match begins in all the frenzy and all the hue and cry...foul umpire calls, crazy ass fielding, big hits, flying wickets, fast bowling, cracking jokes, master local sledging, field setting, drop catches, wandering cattle and the stray dogs, one off audience and last minute inclusions. At this moment...there are at least 300 people packed in this ground and it is impossible to spot your game ball and the respective fielders...this is now the act of camouflage and its guerilla warfare time. Being a fielder is funny now...distractions in plenty...you have no clue who might be appealing and going for the run...at times...watching other matches are just as nail biting and worth watchin than fielding for a match thats almost a goner...here is where the ball slips past our sight and heads towards a boundary...incoming abusive moments follow as well...bumping into many of the players in the field and then theres something that hits us...the game ball...both doubt where it belongs or where it comes from...sometimes we get hold of the wrong game ball which might be heading towards the boundary and throw it to our boys...one good reason to start a fight...as we know...the Chennai crowd is educated and a quite a sport...but when its fight-time...theres no mercy...
Win or lose...at the end of the day, in all the mayhem, having fun is the ultimate objective. The ultimate moment in such a field is the organized chaos that surround us and in that whirl, makes us forget our woes and worries...no wonder even married men and boys with arrears tread these grounds...this part of the planet for many of us, is the holy ground where every moment is festive where the spirit of the game is alive and roaming in all the madness...this is life...
Ever wondered how this is more chaotic than the traffic zones in Chennai but still destined to generate more fun...pay a visit to these abodes and youll know for sure...if you can survive without being bumped by another or bumping into another...youve certainly won your ground and gained your way to peace and well being...on and off the roads.
October 7, 2008
Silence is Loud
It was a bustling junction at Luz, entering my haven at Mylapore today. I was pounding Megadeth in my MP3 player because i felt it was better to listen to some metal than hear the mindless and merciless motorists who keep honking for every inch they move. Amidst all this noise and haste, I was struck by the sight of 3 young people just before they were to cross the road at my signal stop. They were engaged in a very animated conversation and were trying to explain to each other about some issue that was bothering them. I was wondering what they were signalling to opposite the road until I turned my head to see a local party hoarding depicting a dhoti clad politician with his hands folded. What amused me was that the party president's picture was an inset on the hoarding as if he was overseeing what the situation was like.
After observing all this, I turned back to see the three boys getting even more animated and getting even more fenzy. It was then I observed that the lanes opposite the junction were blocked due to the party meeting and seemed they were discussing the results if they crossed the line without permission. One of them was depicting that the party people would chop their limbs off if they did and the other was trying to explain that they would hold us and beat us to numbness if we did so...and the last one said that none of them would hear or understand us. The three fell still for a while and guess they got the message. Something amazed me after that...it dint stop them from discussing them further. It was then the signal was about hit Green for us and one of them told the other that we've waited enough so lets get going and cross the junction. After all of this, it then struck me that all 3 of them were bound by silence and gagged by sound. Their eyes and hands was all that did the talking.
All of this happenned in a span of about 3 minutes. I was simply stunned by what I could observe and understand in such silence amidst all the noise and haste in that limited time. Their action, hand and eye movements and gestures were like poetry in motion, like they were dancing to their own music. In all the silence and still observation, there was so much that was spoken, heard and understood. Their smile, stares and grins were quite a sight in all the maddenning traffic zone that drove me insane. It doesnt take an MP3 player to give you the feeling of listening to music, it doesnt need words to convey what you desire to communicate. All it needs is a little understanding, observation and a little consideration.
Sometimes it hits you when you realise certain truths that come in the form of small real life skits like these where actions speak louder than words and silence is louder than speech...look around to find tales and feathers like these to enjoy the simple joys of life. Its as simple as that and it takes less than 3 minutes like it took me today. The last 5 minutes of my ride back home were filled with a light feeling that comforted me. I was breathing...
After observing all this, I turned back to see the three boys getting even more animated and getting even more fenzy. It was then I observed that the lanes opposite the junction were blocked due to the party meeting and seemed they were discussing the results if they crossed the line without permission. One of them was depicting that the party people would chop their limbs off if they did and the other was trying to explain that they would hold us and beat us to numbness if we did so...and the last one said that none of them would hear or understand us. The three fell still for a while and guess they got the message. Something amazed me after that...it dint stop them from discussing them further. It was then the signal was about hit Green for us and one of them told the other that we've waited enough so lets get going and cross the junction. After all of this, it then struck me that all 3 of them were bound by silence and gagged by sound. Their eyes and hands was all that did the talking.
All of this happenned in a span of about 3 minutes. I was simply stunned by what I could observe and understand in such silence amidst all the noise and haste in that limited time. Their action, hand and eye movements and gestures were like poetry in motion, like they were dancing to their own music. In all the silence and still observation, there was so much that was spoken, heard and understood. Their smile, stares and grins were quite a sight in all the maddenning traffic zone that drove me insane. It doesnt take an MP3 player to give you the feeling of listening to music, it doesnt need words to convey what you desire to communicate. All it needs is a little understanding, observation and a little consideration.
Sometimes it hits you when you realise certain truths that come in the form of small real life skits like these where actions speak louder than words and silence is louder than speech...look around to find tales and feathers like these to enjoy the simple joys of life. Its as simple as that and it takes less than 3 minutes like it took me today. The last 5 minutes of my ride back home were filled with a light feeling that comforted me. I was breathing...
October 5, 2008
Are we heading this way?
I have been flipping news channels and newspapers and all I see this so called secular country in total disgrace. Just looking at the fanatics running amuck and committing atrocities by will and all our government can do is just shoot statements and create quotes that are worth penning in books and not the impression in the life of those who are in the eye of the storm. I mean, where in the hell are we heading with all of this? Innocent people amidst the most wanted people are targetted with utmost dismay, disrespect and disgrace. Why are we playing god when we are just mortals? Sad acts like these will only be treated like forgettable tales but remembered as a friction strike for future reference. Where do in the pages of any scriptures has it been written that we should take lives in the name of god and for the sake of the purity of this land? I mean, arent we a congregation of races and religions since existence? Hasnt this been hailed as one of the most unique cultures in this world? Why are we then burning this legacy?
There certainly seems to be a deeper past and a much intense issue to all of this happenning...but a lot of fanatics are mistaking this to a propaganda and taking this to the streets and burning bridges to ashes. We might need to go back a thousand years to understand this angst and agony to which people fall prey to. Mankind has itself taken so many decisions to which the current generation is unable to fathom. Guess this is just a carry over from all those fossil remains. When are we going to turn a new page? Are we settling an old score? So much vengeance and hatred...
"Ignorance is Bliss" - an inexplicable and diabolical anonymous quote - are we being fooled by just being ignorant? Avoiding the truth gets us nowhere and will not bring us peace because it will be multiplied when we realize for real that it was too late to even heed what happenned in the past. What was just the strike of a match, might be the rage of the wild fire. We never know when an angry mob can walk down our streets and question our beliefs and our identity and by their will...weild their weapon of choice upon us. Its time to look up and see whats happenning around us and and not just read the papers to keep ourselves updated.
I can take a lot of recent and past incidents into account on what has been happenning in India for the last several decades (especially in the current decade) but I do not want to look into the past anymore - it would be like beating the dead rat - needless to say I am indeed aware. What was done has been done and nobody can change that. It has now been etched in the books of mankind's history - be it for fame or shame. I am thinking of living today and dreaming of a tomorrow. A world where we are about to see and are building with our own hands, blood, sweat and tears. Billy Joel once sang the memorable lines - "We dint start the fire, it was always burning since the world was turning..." - he was looking at the past and how we are victims of the past. But, according to me, if this fire continues, mankind will be razed to the ground. We will be on the brink of self destruction if this wild fire continues.
Can we not educate our children and the younger generation about the existence of Mankind as a single identity. Can we not explain to them that religion is a way to a belief which is unique to each believer? Telling them that violence is not the way to victory but it is in unity and acknowledging the fact that taking lives is not in our hands. I think its high time that the smarter generation across the globe, put aside those differences and past tales of shame and shambles and reconstruct the world for them for a better tomorrow.
As they say that "Charity begins at home". If each of us can take this simple yet deep message to the ones we know and to those who matter the most, I think this would be a starting step to seeing the past through and demonstrate the true meaning of peace. Let us spread the message and be more aware of our country's actions as it certainly has a promising future.
I wouldnt be surprised if this small effort can turn into a giant leap...
DarkKnight...
There certainly seems to be a deeper past and a much intense issue to all of this happenning...but a lot of fanatics are mistaking this to a propaganda and taking this to the streets and burning bridges to ashes. We might need to go back a thousand years to understand this angst and agony to which people fall prey to. Mankind has itself taken so many decisions to which the current generation is unable to fathom. Guess this is just a carry over from all those fossil remains. When are we going to turn a new page? Are we settling an old score? So much vengeance and hatred...
"Ignorance is Bliss" - an inexplicable and diabolical anonymous quote - are we being fooled by just being ignorant? Avoiding the truth gets us nowhere and will not bring us peace because it will be multiplied when we realize for real that it was too late to even heed what happenned in the past. What was just the strike of a match, might be the rage of the wild fire. We never know when an angry mob can walk down our streets and question our beliefs and our identity and by their will...weild their weapon of choice upon us. Its time to look up and see whats happenning around us and and not just read the papers to keep ourselves updated.
I can take a lot of recent and past incidents into account on what has been happenning in India for the last several decades (especially in the current decade) but I do not want to look into the past anymore - it would be like beating the dead rat - needless to say I am indeed aware. What was done has been done and nobody can change that. It has now been etched in the books of mankind's history - be it for fame or shame. I am thinking of living today and dreaming of a tomorrow. A world where we are about to see and are building with our own hands, blood, sweat and tears. Billy Joel once sang the memorable lines - "We dint start the fire, it was always burning since the world was turning..." - he was looking at the past and how we are victims of the past. But, according to me, if this fire continues, mankind will be razed to the ground. We will be on the brink of self destruction if this wild fire continues.
Can we not educate our children and the younger generation about the existence of Mankind as a single identity. Can we not explain to them that religion is a way to a belief which is unique to each believer? Telling them that violence is not the way to victory but it is in unity and acknowledging the fact that taking lives is not in our hands. I think its high time that the smarter generation across the globe, put aside those differences and past tales of shame and shambles and reconstruct the world for them for a better tomorrow.
As they say that "Charity begins at home". If each of us can take this simple yet deep message to the ones we know and to those who matter the most, I think this would be a starting step to seeing the past through and demonstrate the true meaning of peace. Let us spread the message and be more aware of our country's actions as it certainly has a promising future.
I wouldnt be surprised if this small effort can turn into a giant leap...
DarkKnight...
October 2, 2008
A decade of poetry - I
This has been an unfathomable journey and it has taken a decade to realize how far I have come in this chosen path. A journey that has taken me to places never imagined before and meeting people I had never met before and getting to know people better than I knew them before. This path has put me on situations and has tested my wit, wisdom and my will and has put me from an unidentifiable soul to at least the one whose word is at least read and heard.
For the last ten years, there has been a life that I have never dreamt of. I began with a self motivated push and it came in the form of an exercise post a lesson in my English Class way back in the year 1998. I still remember it was Ogden Nash's poem on a patients ordeal with his bad tooth at the Dentist's place. It was titled "This Is Going To Hurt Just A Little Bit". There was something about the dark humour in the poem that tempted me to give it a try and it was then that I gave it my first shot at my first poem. In all the cliché to it...there was no more looking back.
It was the likes of Robert Frost, Rudyard Kipling, Samuel Taylor Coleridge that further motivated me to take this direction and pursue the craft of poetry which is seemingly becoming a dead art like the language of Sanskrit. I am not telling that it is dead...just that it has taken a lot of derivative forms that the purity has been almost wiped out. Of all the people I have met, I havent yet met the right publisher. Even if i met one, all they said was - "Sorry, Poetry doesnt sell, so we cant take your material" . And this was what prompted me to write for the art and for my writing pleasure.
Writing was one of the biggest revelations in my life. It helped me cross the trivial pressures and the confused state of mind of a teenager. The art was my saviour and put me on a course that was charted to some destined destination. When I was in Delhi for my schooling, I surely was the most recognizable, but for all the wrong reasons. I was called Madrasi and was treated like a guy from Africa because of my complexion. Well, this did build a lot of internal pressure and stress and by discovering the art of poetry, I saved myself from the violent arms of the disturbed mind. The writing did the trick and I soon found my way out. In the last 4 years of my schooling, the first 2 years were hell...after that it was a comeback of sorts - my knowledge of weilding the power of the pen than that of the sword, paved my way to some recognition and saw the same guys who took me down, see me in the eye and just wishing me well. That was my first ever victory...I knew it was just the beginning...
Writing was a very enjoyable experience at this stage because it was all about the discovery the art and it was a very innocent stage where even the silliest rhyme would sound like the chime of the bells. Without a proper guide or a person to keep pushing me to be good at it, I took it as a mission to do what was necessary. I would take up words as titles...just plain words...and write about them - for e.g. Books, Winter, Time, Music, Love etc. and endlessly tear down the drafts till they sounded right to enter my first ever collection of my poems. This wasn’t however very easy to do, as it involved a lot of patience, persistence and a lot of practice. But it finally paid off as it took at least the first 3 years to bring about 75 of my first poems into one solid collection.
This would go on to become the first of many ventures and thematic expeditions I had set upon. I had finally found my muse. The identity I had taken was what I called the DarkKnight which defined my struggle and the battle I waged to overcome my barriers and defy what was impossible with my only weapon of choice – and hence the reference of the Warrior Poet as a model of my existence and purpose and hence the deep and dark sides of the Knight in me who rose in the darkest of moments.
Please Note – the pseudonym might be a direct parallel to The Batman's tale of emergence but is not derivative of the name. It was just mere coincidence, like it was all meant to be, like it all fell in the right place.
More to come on Part II
For the last ten years, there has been a life that I have never dreamt of. I began with a self motivated push and it came in the form of an exercise post a lesson in my English Class way back in the year 1998. I still remember it was Ogden Nash's poem on a patients ordeal with his bad tooth at the Dentist's place. It was titled "This Is Going To Hurt Just A Little Bit". There was something about the dark humour in the poem that tempted me to give it a try and it was then that I gave it my first shot at my first poem. In all the cliché to it...there was no more looking back.
It was the likes of Robert Frost, Rudyard Kipling, Samuel Taylor Coleridge that further motivated me to take this direction and pursue the craft of poetry which is seemingly becoming a dead art like the language of Sanskrit. I am not telling that it is dead...just that it has taken a lot of derivative forms that the purity has been almost wiped out. Of all the people I have met, I havent yet met the right publisher. Even if i met one, all they said was - "Sorry, Poetry doesnt sell, so we cant take your material" . And this was what prompted me to write for the art and for my writing pleasure.
Writing was one of the biggest revelations in my life. It helped me cross the trivial pressures and the confused state of mind of a teenager. The art was my saviour and put me on a course that was charted to some destined destination. When I was in Delhi for my schooling, I surely was the most recognizable, but for all the wrong reasons. I was called Madrasi and was treated like a guy from Africa because of my complexion. Well, this did build a lot of internal pressure and stress and by discovering the art of poetry, I saved myself from the violent arms of the disturbed mind. The writing did the trick and I soon found my way out. In the last 4 years of my schooling, the first 2 years were hell...after that it was a comeback of sorts - my knowledge of weilding the power of the pen than that of the sword, paved my way to some recognition and saw the same guys who took me down, see me in the eye and just wishing me well. That was my first ever victory...I knew it was just the beginning...
Writing was a very enjoyable experience at this stage because it was all about the discovery the art and it was a very innocent stage where even the silliest rhyme would sound like the chime of the bells. Without a proper guide or a person to keep pushing me to be good at it, I took it as a mission to do what was necessary. I would take up words as titles...just plain words...and write about them - for e.g. Books, Winter, Time, Music, Love etc. and endlessly tear down the drafts till they sounded right to enter my first ever collection of my poems. This wasn’t however very easy to do, as it involved a lot of patience, persistence and a lot of practice. But it finally paid off as it took at least the first 3 years to bring about 75 of my first poems into one solid collection.
This would go on to become the first of many ventures and thematic expeditions I had set upon. I had finally found my muse. The identity I had taken was what I called the DarkKnight which defined my struggle and the battle I waged to overcome my barriers and defy what was impossible with my only weapon of choice – and hence the reference of the Warrior Poet as a model of my existence and purpose and hence the deep and dark sides of the Knight in me who rose in the darkest of moments.
Please Note – the pseudonym might be a direct parallel to The Batman's tale of emergence but is not derivative of the name. It was just mere coincidence, like it was all meant to be, like it all fell in the right place.
More to come on Part II
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