Sunday, November 27, 2011

Some new ideas

There are a few ideas that are crowding my idle brain. A crowd is definitely chaotic, and more often not controlled.

My idle ideas have been known to many, but the attempt to blog them for my friends was one such idea that became a big success once upon a time. Not sure why, this idea of communication was perhaps the best during those days. So were the ideas to blog, and one among many that came and went.

Mostly, there have been such instances when the crowded brain has successfully manouvered itself to creating something meaningful. This blog was one such instance, when the urge to write something was doing the rounds.

What happens when ideas come? when does an idea get reflected in action? I do not remember all that came to me as ideas, but the idea to blabber something remained one of the most successful ideas that I have nurtured.

Men dream science, arts or some technology. I dream exchanges, communication and ideas. That's roughly the difference I have with many fellow men. Whatever that is, the difference has been very typical, and difficult.

So, some more ideas have come. And I can bet that there won't be many to see those. Only a handful of those ideas get to see the life the way I lead.

I may also need to reach out. To all those who came, waited for my writing and then left disappointed. My apologies, the writing on the blog was getting a bit difficult for me to practice.

This much for now ... the ideas will stay for some time. I may use one of those ideas in these blog pages, or may be I will not. Also, I will need you to be part of the idle ideas that remain my forte.

Still, the dilemma remains ... and as one would have it, the very basic confrontation that I always have to make an idea a reality.

Hang on there, idle! let the readers talk.

Tuesday, April 5, 2011

If Cricket was Life

This last week was a fantasy re-lived.

I was in the final years of my school when the Cup last came to India. The Devils of Kapil were on a rampage ... mowing down opposition with absolute finesse. The same has happened again. This time Dhoni and his brigade made that happen ... and we are all ecstatic again. The Cup is ours!!

Almost three decades of an endless wait suddenly got over. Sitting at my colleague's house in front of the gigantic screen (yeah, we played the matches from Quarter finals in a giant screen), history seemed to haunt me. Last time, my dad and me were glued to the radio commentary as India made history. Television was definitely in, but not so popular. Not anymore, now radio is history and Cricket Live is the most happening thing.

Next best to being inside the park!

Don't know the technology that will be prevalent when India wins again. May be the hi-definition, tablet ... iMotion ... I keep thinking of so many possibilities. Let us see it on 3D the next time we play the finals ... it will be another milestone in technology. Celebrations are natural when such a momentous occasion arrives in the history of a sport.

I am not an avid fan of cricket anymore, just happen to enjoy these moments. There was a time when I breathed cricket ... it is now a wonderful memory. The sport has definitely improved, but with the emergence of a strong Team India, I have almost reclined to some complacency.

Loved those times when India struggled to make it big. There was nothing, no academy, no sponsors ... nothing. Yet we came from behind to lift the Cup. I still cherish those moments of cricket history. Most of it was unexpected, and we were definitely not even underdogs.

In this land for 121 crores (latest from the Census), such an event will last in the memories of those who strive for the battle of the bat and the ball. The state heads give a reception, the board presents a bounty and the city mayors hand over replicas are so grand in their recognition of the honour our team brings to the nation.

Now cricket is an euphoria, and the lives of so many hapless Indians energized by this game. Standing in front of the giant screen, I kept thinking of the strides that we made in technology and sports that makes us feel proud. We have moved on ... and with dignity.

Cricket is now diplomacy, cricket innovates technology ... cricket is life. We have started to announce cricket as the next best thing that can happen in life. The entire nation stands still to watch a match which changes history. Cricket brings them the cup of joy!

How I wish if Cricket can share. With cricket being so popular, it can help us in encouraging philanthropy, in development of infrastructure and in the realms of education where we still struggle to unite. Cricketing bodies can organize money-spinning events that can garner enough revenues to help the residents of chawls and slums live with some dignity ... and not just survive.

Schools and colleges of the nation can entertain much more so that entire population grows to be educated. Cricket can share some to encourage the growth of academics, it can also help us develop the system that is so decadent all around.

If there was an Indian Premier League which did not fill the pockets of the few, I would have been very happy. If such an international tournament can be used to earn money for bridges, highways and good living conditions for millions, that would be super. I wish cricket grows big, much bigger than the needs of this nation which wants to develop. The cricket loving population can encourage the administrators to use the riches and the popularity to help India grow bigger and better. With every passing World Cup, I wish to see India grow.

The lovely population that watches cricket with utmost admiration must use this sport to fulfill the aspirations of the countless Indians who still survive amidst abject poverty. As the car company keeps showing in their ads, we must open up cricket to 'new thinking and new possibilities'.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Lemme live the way I want

Welcome to this world! This is the era where we all are running behind the sole purpose of selling ourselves. To live is to sell, to love is to sell … and to die is to sell our being. Selling is everywhere, a ‘USP’ is what we strive to live for.

Selling for money, selling for glory.

A renowned percussionist was talking on a television channel last week. He is a classical musician, but has recently turned into a band activist. He was stressing about singing loud on the stage, making animated gestures to the best possible extent … the intent was to make every pair of eyes in the audience notice you, and only you.

You need to sell yourself, artist! … just that only art never sells.

To sell your own self is to make you always aware of – you only. Just think about yourself, and yourself only. Very recently, a lady came for an interview in our office. While I asked if she was comfortable to stretch beyond normal hours occasionally, pat came her reply – ‘Though I have a 2 months-old kid, but my work is the most important. I can stay back any day as you want’.

Reason – self growth, even if that means demeaning a child that has just been brought to this world. I am getting used to such colleagues.

Man has his goals defined, and he is running after it. Women have their aspirations, and they are pursuing it. After a relentless struggle the entire day, there is not much left to pursue. Interesting still, a newly-wed couple in the neighbourhood has the guy leave at five in the evening, and the wife leaves for work at nine in the morning. Both meet after midnight, when the guy returns home and just hops into the bed.

Marital bliss? I suppose it doesn’t matter, since no notes are exchanged for the entire week! The weekend is for rest, so no possessive demands are recorded.

We just possess ourselves, and the rest is all Maya!!

There is no society, no parents, no siblings … no love and nothing else. The entire world is made of just one individual – ME. I just think about my way of living in this world … my visions and my achievements.

At this point of Mother Earth’s heavenly rotation, we have started to think independently. We think about academic courses, based on the passion that we share. The idea is to get into MY dream job.

Parents and elders are mostly eye-witnesses when the citizen of ‘Youngistan’ is making a choice.

An exception to this is being a primitive citizen.

Setting priorities and accomplishing them is a not a group activity anymore. ‘I know what my priorities are, you take care of yours’ is the normal hype. The funnier part is none bothers to get involved in the decision making faculties of their peers or relatives. ‘To each, their own’ is the mantra.

Newer definitions of life has started. Parents are defined as those individuals who are sponsors of ‘my’ education until ‘I’ find some work. Friends are those who share a common business / academic interest with ‘me’.

The spouse and I live together, she is independent of her and so am I. She is free to live her life, so am I. We don’t demand, neither possess nor share. There are no disclaimers, no strings attached to life’s togetherness.

I have started watching this life with interest. There are so many singleton sets, each filled with just one individual. Their Union is unknown, the Intersection undefined.

Sorry for blabbering mathematics, such are the ways of this world that I fall short in English.

P.S: The heading of this blog is a weak translation of a Bangla film song that is getting popular these days as the ‘song of life’.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

To my lovely Valentines

They say that life moves on ... or does it? In these troubled days, life just doesn't move. It may rather take the snail's pace to start ... determined never to reach the milestone. I had confessed that love is all that needs a winter to unite. Come February, and I am already gasping in that splurge of no-nonsense heat.

Don't know how do I write even something about the Valentine's day! A few years back, there were people I would discuss my love for writing ... there were moments when a masterstroke of that passion would hit my words. I would encounter a trance, something that would make me devote all my energy to building a virtual relation.

One never knows when the cupid strikes in writing. Every person who wants to write will confess that this four-letter word was all that was needed to accomplish. Almost always, it never strikes ... and even if it does, it is momentary. Sad that love in writing is never treated as romance.

I just responded to a mail that a virtual friend has sent me yesterday.

There's nothing abnormal about it. Just that the last time I mailed her was 2 years back (in June 2009) ... and she responded to that only yesterday. Wasn't that lovely? and she started by writing that she was alive ... how cruel was man's conception of life.

She was almost lost ... among the humdrum of her work, and some other phases in our standard development of life cycle. But then the word 'hellllooooooo' reminded me of her ... the fresh, vibrant and energetic call from among the millions with whom we live, but never get the chance to connect.

Among many instances of loss and grief, the craving of love for the human life emerges nice and fresh. Such lovely relations in virtual space is what I live for. Those messages on the mobile phone, those small chat blurbs ... who said love was lost!

Valentine's Day may be a concept from the west, but valentines are for real ...

Such angels make distances become meaningless. Expressions are real, the urge is ... or to be precise, that age-old passion to hook up with the other. Love is not always a relation to create ... but every creative relation is lovely.

Let me not sound like a maniac though. Love knows no force, no pressure or no compulsion. It's the natural flow ... a passion to be together, just so that there is a confluence of minds to celebrate life and explore creativity. Love never demands, it's just that we humans demand everything out of love.

To those who still love, mera salaam! To those who do not, start feeling the senses around. It is a sensibility that matters, and every person must have that.

We may not dance around the trees in ecstasy, but there are reasons we may feel fresh by sharing a word or two. There are many reasons to stay alive, but there's only one way to feel the aroma of life.

All these days, the love is what I lost. A quest for love that would be spread across the pages that I have created here, and the love that gets carried to me in numerous messages that I get electronically. There is love among the souls who have visited my page, and there's more love in that they have remembered me.

This post is not to reciprocate, but to express my gratitude to those souls who I have grown up with believing that they understand the message of love.

Sunday, January 23, 2011

The Call again!

Never thought I had to stay away for so long.

With the advent of winter, this world seemed to be a tiring place. Friends were leaving me, finding solace in their final resting places up above the world. Nothing seemed normal. I lost a few people who were close to me. At least I was close to them, don't know how they felt about me. Can't ask them now, they have already left for their more "heavenly" abode.

But, I keep arguing, isn't that life?

Lifeless bodies are no good for life. Usually unused, they should be either burnt or buried. It does not make a lot of sense to really crave for their beings now that they do not exist.

But the sun and the moon ... change of seasons ... all seem to be very much there.

Just that little loss ... that pain ... it sort of lingers on. Which makes this planet a boring place to live.

Work kept piling on ... and on. There was not much of a space to breathe creativity. My boss is a young guy, having given birth to his first child only a year back. Lots of energy and youth is still in him. So, he likes to work ... real hard. And he kept me working. Until I seemed to have burnt out ... or what he felt.

Got a nice break during the last week of December. Spent the time among the hills of Matheran. These ghats, and they really made me weak in my knees! The more I see these chain of hills, the more I have this feeling that this life is not so freaking boring as I had felt throughout.

That's exactly where I am. Disconnected though, from my virtual friends. Spending a forlorn life being constantly haunted by deadlines and revenue targets.

Now, I hear the call again. Creativity is a passion, just like making love. The last time I was creating, it was a crazy feeling. Like a person who is getting energy after every bout of venting out. It was a feeling that only few can feel.

She said one needs to be idle to start writing ... and I need an idle mind to pile up my thoughts. I know her, she has been a constant inspiration to my writing.

After all, you need a feminine push to spit the masculine energy. Making love again? don't worry, winters are the best time to unite!!