Relocation

I have always been a big fan of blogger but since I do like change: change and I have a mutually respectful relationship and I do like to give into change's whims and fancies.

I am reviving this space at arkatva.wordpress.com, I hope I do delight you and surprise myself with non-pedestrian writing at a consistent frequency.

And yes, I did miss it. Change? No. Writing, Yes.

To newer adventures.



The Knight Rose?

I must mention beforehand, that I am a big fan of the concept of superheros, which is largely a westernized phenomenon, though I am not a comic book nerd, simply because most of my childhood was spent reading European spiel about a blonde boy and his fox terrier, a bunch of cousins and their dog, two unlikely heroes who travel the world, drink cool potions and kick military ass, along with a little dog. I hardly had time for the x-men, batman, superman and the marvel franchises of course, apart from the random cartoon shows on TV.

There were a couple of superman movies in the late '70s featuring Christopher Reeve, which descended into direct to dvd type stuff by the time the fourth installment was released. The '80s and '90s saw a number of smaller less popular superhero features releasing, but none making an impact whatsoever. Of course, there were no marvel features then. With Bryan Singer's X-Men and Sam Raimi's Spiderman, the foundation was set for the superhero summer blockbuster. This time, the auteurs were aided with a lot of money, advanced technology, a more accepting audience and computers for state of the art visual effects. What followed hence forth is there for everyone to see, with the latest being The Dark Knight Rises, which released last Friday.

I have actually enjoyed Christopher Nolan's take on the Batman, giving him a more human facade, incorporating a grim, darker tone exploring diverse emotions, three dimensional supporting characters and a storyline that does not take our sensibilities for granted. However, I must say I was a bit let down with the third installment, which has largely to do with the fact that expectations were sky high following the phenomenal success of the dark knight.

I attribute it to what I call " the second helping" phenomenon. The Dark Knight Rises is like eating a second slice of a rich chocolate cake, layered with all the goodies one can think of. The first slice was out of the world, simply the best 15 spoonfuls of bliss in the past few years. You want to have the second piece, you know it will be as fantastic as the first, simply because it is another slice of the same pie. But what happens is increased sensitivity of the teeth, a nagging pain in the stomach and suddenly the cake does not seem good anymore. You realise it but you do not want to admit it because of the simple fact that the previous helping elavated your experience and you want it to be that way. You’d rather believe it was just as awesome, despite realising that some of the nuts are rotten, including the stubborn one that is stuck between your implant and the penultimate molar, the chocolate icing does seem uneven and the glazing a little too sweet.
 

Why this Hypnotic State, di?

If something or someone does manage to occupy your thoughts, the morning after, then it must have been good. I recently watched a movie called Mayakkam Enna, where the protogonist ( played by Dhanush) is a wildlife photographer, immensely passionate about his work, but is taken for a ride. He loves, he hurts, he regrets, he repents and he is incapable. People cannot understand him and he does not realise that.  His angst, passion and rage at his inability to succeed takes a turn when he falls for his best friends girlfriend. A girl who understands his frustrations and is there for him through thick and thin, until the very end.
 
The movie is highly performance driven, with the protogonists occupying much of screen time and doing justice to every minute of it. Though there are gaping anachronistic holes, I am sure most people would not notice it or at least tuck it under the pillow, while gushing over the performances. I thought the background music and the cinematography were strong supporting pillars for the motion picture.
 
The movie was layered in that  the story was not linear and during the course of the narrative, is peeled to reveal different aspects. For example, the movie starts out as Karthik, the photographer lamenting about his life and the new woman who comes into it, eventually we come to relate to the story from the girls perspective, and then you start understanding Karthik's relationships with his friends and then, towards the end, there is a study of the relationship between the siblings.
On the contrary, the ending was quite abrupt,as  there was a lot invested in studying and analysing Karthik's misery and then suddenly, he is a world famous photographer and all ended well. I thought it sort of made the whole struggle of the protogonist's wife sort of insipid.
 
What I find exciting is the fact that the story is quite true to life. These are some of the people you might meet in daily life. Flawed, emotional, bitter, concerned, opportunistic individuals who could be be crossing your path on a daily basis. This movie unravels like a book and actually makes you relate to the character in every possible way. The hero is the asshole and he does realise it towards the end, but that does not elevate immediately to the “ I think I am a much better man and you have to love me now” status.
 

Networks

People intrigue me the same way they puzzle me. Life, I guess, is all about the connections. Right from the umbilical cord to the last breath, it is the connections that keep you ticking, literally. Detachment is in itself a form of connection, I would suppose, to one's self. Which is probably why it is a good idea to be detached once in a while.

What are the connections we hold on to and what are the ones we let go? Why do we do so? Is it because we need security and a blanket for our fears and insecurities? or is it because we are influenced by other factors?

In many ways, these connections shape and mould us. We are inspired by them and our lives are enriched by them. And there are the drains, the ones that sap your resources. And the sounding boards, the ones upon whom we direct our anger, hatred and pain. Are we being fair to ourselves and them, in doing so?

I do not know the answers to a lot of these questions but I do know that I am very thankful for all my connections. In a way, I am who I am now, because of them and I do hope that I would be able to enrich someone's life the way a lot of them have.

Full Stop

So long and thanks for the ride.
New journeys beckon! Watch this space.

Cut+Copy+Paste
2006-2011

Suominy Things

Officially two months in this wonderful country, I feel at home.
I get to spend time at lovely cottages in the countryside, filled with warm people who invite me to come again.
I have wonderful colleagues who promise me rides on their motorcycles and bring an extra helmet to keep at work, in case I forget.
I have good friends who share their Maca tea with me and spiritually heal me when I fall sick.
I work with people who respect your ideas and actually think you can be productive.
I live in a city that has character, history and passionate people, who consistently think about and talk of growth, change, diversity and faith.
I have gym instructors who call me by first name to correct a technique I have been screwing up.
I am experiencing a culture where people actually take time to smell the roses or burnt wood in the sauna, enjoy the little pleasures in life, may it be a bite of breadcheese, a cup of tea or a simple stroll down Alexsanterinkaatu.
I celebrated India's world cup win in a strange land, with a bunch of passionate cricket fans of different nationalities, in a bar run by Australians and Kiwis.
I love how the Finns love their Indian food without having any clue about what they are eating and enthusiastically lap your descriptions about the Malai koftas and the lentil based cuisine of South India.
I love how being fit and healthy is wired in their heads in tandem with their love for beer and spirits.
I am not kidding when I say my favorite part of the day is when I am sitting naked, dripping in sweat, in silence, in a closed chamber heated upto 80 degrees with other hot, naked people.
Just sitting there.
hyvaä

The End

Where is the end?
When is the end?
Why is it the end?
Will it end?
I hope it ends.


I am glad it did end.

Songs At My Funeral

Hypothetically, If I were to die tomorrow, I would want these 5 songs played in no random order. Songs that have been part of some of the most intimate, entertaining, emphatic, introspective and craziest moments of my life, thoughts and routine.

1) Musafir hoon yaaron from Parichay



Manali, M, cutting chai, campfires, weaved toucans.


2) தேனே தென் பாண்டி மீனே  from Udaya Geetham



The very first song I actually tried to sing. As a baby, I used to be enraptured by this song and ensured in my own way that it was played on repeat mode.


3) Take It Easy by the Eagles



One word-Manipal. Late night bike rides to Kapu. Jamming with Roshan and his guitar at the Bhatta's adda. Stag dancing at the Sphinx. Late nights at Kamath Circle. Library nights. End Point. 

4) Jhumma Chumma from HUM




I had always been a big AB fan, probably one of the very few people to buy his album Aby Baby (along with Bally Sagoo), choosing to watch Bade Miyaan Chote Miyaan instead of Kuch Kuch Hota Hai (which was one of the best decisions made, IMHO) and grooving to this song. I absolutely loved the energy and the beer mugs in this number. Bonus points to someone who can repeat the coin dance that is featured.


5)  Walk of Life by Dire Straits 





Dire Straits and RP go hand in hand. 
My brother, the one who did not care if the world was laughing at him or scorning him. The one who I looked up to and the one who looked out for me. 


A little extra if there is time.


There is always some time for the superstar.


You and Me

I walk into the house. You are still asleep.
I tread cautiously. You murmur.
I dim the light. You are undisturbed.
I eat some food. You open your eyes.
I look at you. You seem lost.
I walk towards you. You are unaware.
I reach out to you. You flinch.
I hesitate. You turn away.
I try small talk. You are preoccupied.
I hold your hand. You pull away.
I retreat. You do not care.
I am lost in my thoughts. You eat.
I try a conversation. You make no sense.
I get up to leave. You tug my sleeve.
I look at you. You reach out to me.
I take you in my arms. You widen your eyes.
I pull you close. You coo.
I hold tight. You rest your head on my shoulders.
I pat your back. You dribble on my shirt.
I am powerless. You conquer me.
I have to go. You are stopping me.
I do not have a choice. You do not seem to mind.
I will be back. You need to be here.

Papa Kehte Hain

Appa can make your world turn rosy in a matter of minutes and a volley of words. From last night's conversation:

a) As usual, When I have some interesting moments, God will cut it. I have to go to office early today ( Expressing his disapproval on his crazy schedule and the fact that he got to chill with both M and me on an early Monday morning)

b) Enjoy work, Be fit, Think Positive, Remember us. ( His usual "sermon" as he calls it, which is routinely delivered every time we call home, irrespective of time and mood)

An endearing conversation with the family after such a long time made me realize how much I miss them. There have been weeks when I have been immersed in my own world and forgot about them, they did not have problems. Their support in their special ways have shaped both M and my personalities. Walking through the corridors yesterday, I noticed a colleague talking his family around the work place. He was animatedly discussing the work and the labs and his dad was listening to him intently, eyes wide open, curiosity spattered on his face and the radiance of happiness exuding through every pore of his skin. I am sure he did not understand most of what his son was talking, but still the pride, veneration and sincerity was . 

During these dreary times, it feels wonderful to lean onto the ones who love you unconditionally. A shoulder, A hand or just a simple word does make a whale of a difference.

Anatomy of a Workout Part 2

6: 00-6: 20 PM:

Day two. 7 ladies and 3 men. Madge asks me if I can live up to their expectations. I answer by sprinting across Canal street, crossing the heavy bus traffic at Haymarket onto the parks at the North end of Boston. John makes us warm up here, combining stretches with calisthenics. We butt kick, high knee, squat and hop up and down the length of the park on a frigid day as the sun goes down. A quick sprint to the Christopher Columbus waterfront park near the long wharf and we line up, blissfully unaware of what the day is in store.

John sets 4 posts of varying distances and makes us do sprint bursts, meaning that we need to extend our sprint by each pole for every lap. This is repeated thrice, followed by crawls, frog jumps and squat jumps.



6:20-6:40 PM:

John instructs us to run along the length of commercial street by the waterside, three quarters of a mile later, we pull up by the Langone Park baseball field. On the field, we perform a circuit of dips, pushups, leg raises and stationary squats. Across the street, John instructs us to run up and down the flight of stairs five times. The cold bites and we are drained.

6: 40-7:00 PM:

We run around commercial street to hit Snow Hill road. Three laps up and down the hill and we then continue jogging back to Causeway street passing by the Zakim and the Charlestown bridge on my right. The end is near in sight, only after another circuit back at the base of the bootcamp incorporating some core strengthening techniques.


Anatomy Of A Workout


Preworkout blues: Shoes. check. propel check. Jitters check. Change in the locker room. Stow your stuff. Smile at the cute girl waiting outside the door. Make small talk. Turns out this is her first outdoor session. Winner. It also turns out she did three of the indoor sessions earlier. Bummer.

6:00-6: 15 PM: Assembling at the entrance to the gym, John calls out to run towards the courthouse. A slight wind chill permeates the north end as the 12 of us jog in place not to lead the cold get the better of us. John leads the way, breaking into a slight jog down Valenti way, crossing Merrimac street, as we enter the courtyard of the courthouse. A sheen of sweat appears on my arms as John makes us line up on the grass to commence our warmups. Buttkicks, Squats, hops, stretches and fast paced walks follow.


6: 15-6: 30 PM: John instructs us to run to the Boston Commons. Running along Cambridge Street, my breathing quickens while turning onto Tremont Street. As my heart starts pounding harder, I gaze at the ugly excuse for the Mayor's office, while avoiding the people on the streets. The run is harder than expected, I think, as I cross the Granary burying ground, where Benjamin Franklin was laid to rest and gaze at the lights of the Beantown pub across the street. I feel the beginnings of a snitch on my left stomach, but I keep running. I cross the lights at the intersection of Park Street and Tremont St, almost getting hit by an eager denizen on his way home.

We arrive at the base of the Soldiers and Sailors Monument, where John instructs us to drop down and give 20 squat thrusts and then run on top of the hill to do 30 jumping jacks. This is followed by mountain climbers, pushups, dips and other profanity spewing workouts which pump the juice out of your joints with every step up and down that hill.

We pause for a water break. A long 30 second break to replenish lost fluids. We file up and jog around the corner along the length of Park Street where we do army style sprints. Your lungs fill out as you huff and puff and my legs are about to give up and I can taste the bitter bile at the back of my throat, then its my turn to sprint.

6: 30-6: 45 PM: We cross the Boston common to Walnut street and run up the hill. My snitch is getting worse as I cross the state house and descend on to Cambridge Street, where we turn left and reach St. Russell Street. 3 runs up and down the steepest slope of the hill leaves you wanting for more.

6: 45-7: 00 PM: We run across Cambridge street back to the court house where we do two laps up and down the 4 flight of stairs. We reconvene at the base to do another high intensity squat thrust routine and stretches before  John tells us how horrible a job we have done and asks us to scram. I scram, my lungs hurting, my legs heavy and a heady feeling of accomplishment. 

Mantra

To be fit is the mantra.

I want to be fit: 

To die strong.
To be independant.
To sleep well.
To wake up.
To be awake.
To be woken up.
To think.
To act.
To fill my lungs with oxygen.
To get that pump inside my chest lubricated and running.
To push myself to the limit.
To have great sex.
To look good.
To feel good.
To be inspired.
To inspire.
To never take life for granted.
To enjoy what I do.
To do what I love.



Yeh Dosti Hum Nahin...


Visuals of Amitabh Bachchan and Dharmendra on that Bullet with a side car attached, humming this very popular number rendered by Manna Dey and Kishore Kumar move at the speed of 60 frames per second as I write this post. An iconic image from an equally iconic movie, which set the cash registers ringing, replete with unique characters, the biggest villain Indian screens have seen, the most creative use of a water tank and alcohol and the decisive two headed coin.
Sholay set the standards for masala movies and made Amitabh Bachchan, Dharmendra, Hema Malini and Sanjeev Kumar superstars overnight. Need we say anything about Amjad Khan?

The reason why this song came up was a post on facebook I saw between two close friends, people who have been staying together for a number of years. One did not know the other was pregnant while the other did not know the former got married a month ago. It was sad to see themcongratulate each other on their respective walls. Their friendship had reduced to indifference bordering on formality.

My entourage runs eclectic and deep. Theres the bunch I grew up with, the idiots from kindergarden, Her from 5th class, the boys from middle school and the monkeys from high school. College happened with the pookies, tinku, BP, Paddy and KMC. Significant individuals, so near yet so far, who have made life a whole lot different in so many ways.

This is a first in a series of posts dedicated to these wonderful people who are still a very integral part of my life. 

I look at it as my way of humming those lines from Sholay..:)

Tintin Boy

I was an enthusiastic little kid in my kindergarten, reading a lot, running around, stealing lunches and making them ladies cry. The teachers hated me and punishment was sitting in the front row, which I detested. Tintin boy joined us in 2nd grade and one day when I was all over the place during hindi lessons, I was pulled down to earth by my left ear lobe and made to sit next to him. He was the smartest kid in class and knew everything, I fell hook line and sinker and we hit it off. His mom and dad ensured the best for him and his sister loved him dearly. We used to spend Sundays at each others place, where lazy afternoons were spent reading Tintin and the Hindu newspaper. His dad transferred to Delhi and they moved. We tried getting in touch with him but in vain. A few months back, Moviegirl and I were talking when she mentioned about Tintinboy. I got his contact details from her, wrote to him immediately to find out that he finished a Masters degree in Biomedical Engineering and is currently working at a Neuroscience Startup in California. Our man recently got hitched and is as enthusiastic as he was in the 2nd standard. 

Repercussions

"Character is easier kept than recovered"-Thomas Paine

A quote put up at work got me thinking about character. We grew up being what we are thanks to our parents, the environment at home, our friends, teachers, neighbors and the community in general. These inputs shaped our character and aided us in believing and doing the right things which included its subset of doing things that we thought were right.

Somewhere down the line, A lot of us end up compromising on a lot of things we believe in for a variety of reasons, good or bad. There could be a million reasons, which I will not delve into, but at the end of the day, we do end up losing sight. Does this make us necessarily out of tune with our character?

As long as we are aware of the choices we make and know that they will not affect our relationships with the ones who matter then I think, we are on steady ground.

As for yourself, you have to deal with the repercussions. Alone.

At The Crease

I had this intriguing conversation with a friend a couple of nights ago. She was lamenting about how she threw away her last 10 years of existence and that her goal is basically redemption. Her state of mind was such that anything I would have said would not make any sense. I let her be.

Thinking about the last 10 years of my life, I finished my boards respectably, threw away two years of preparation to pursue a dream that did not materialise. I chose a field that was not approved of, was kicked out of my own house.I worked hard through college, managed reasonable grades, met some wonderful people, laughed, cried, loved, fought, made up, broke up,  revelled and regretted. I flew west and unavoidable  circumstances made  me make some choices that ended up being inevitable. I moved up north, was taken for a ride, by  eminent faculty, almost died, obtained security clearance from the US government and experienced being part of a great team. There have been days, all kinds of ones, but they were such learning experiences. 10 years from now, I can always look back and smile. 

Life throws different balls at you when you are at the crease. There is the googly  which turns in the other direction, There is the fast beamer, that makes you duck for cover, the outswinger that just misses the edge. There are the balls that can get you dismissed-the  impeccable ones that you really cannot do anything about and the crafty ones  that  get you to  play the wrong shot. You wait for the odd wrong ball to hit it out of the ground, and if you watch carefully, you drive that  perfect good length delivery right to the fence. We need to keep running to collect those singles in between.

All that matters is you staying in front of those wickets and facing the deliveries and look back at an innings well played.


Addendum to Loneliness

Afterthought: no one should be lonely. Companionship of any sort is required for sanity. Else, its very difficult to fight the feeling which eats you up from the inside, turning you into someone you are not.

Reach out. Be there for yourself and for others. Do not die a slow death, one that consumes your entire life and kills you before your body gives up.

Words

Sometimes words are all that matter. In fact, most of the times. A right word at the right time can bring a smile on a face or make eyes well up, clear the clouds or make life murky, be a ray of light or a thunderbolt.

Conviction, belief, trust, love and respect need to be attached to words and thats what transforms words from just being words to being meaningful. Without meaning, everything else falls flat.

I aspire to lead a meaningful existence. I have had my setbacks. I learn from them and keep working hard.




Being Alone

Over the last few days, a lot of thoughts and a whole spectrum of discussion has been over the aspect of loneliness. I have had friends tell me that they would be so happy if all they had was someone to sit with them and just watch movies at home. I know colleagues who drown in alcohol just to escape the reality that they are lonely. On the other hand, I know people who actually drive away kids from their door during Halloween because they do not want to be disturbed.

Deep down inside, people are lonely. Man has been a social creature since evolution and needs people around him to make him feel confident, secure and independent. When one does not get the external stimulus, it tends to affect his psyche and he withdraws into his shell. It is perfectly a balance that nature intends because as much as we are social, we need a little time by ourselves to revitalize and rejuvenate.

Its all in the mind. One can choose not to be lonely if they want to. It could be a manifestation of their lack of social skills and they tend to look at it this way. Its a choice of life for a lot of people, but that does not make them any lesser mortals. This conundrum is open to interpretation in a ton of ways and naturally, it has been beaten and trod upon and in general, done to death. My only take on this is that at some point, one would know how much the presence ( or the lack of ) people in their lives affect their wellbeing and psyche. Once that realization falls in place, its in their hands to make things work their way. Being lonely isn't some sort of a debilitating disease or a mental disorder. Its just a choice, a conscious choice for some and a temporary subconscious choice for the rest.

Disclaimer: Lines above are mere observations and are not intended to impose views..:)

Less

I was told I write too less and I should post more.

I am inspirationless, because I feel I am sucked into routine. BUZZZ. Wrong answer.

You are your own inspiration.

Write.

You love it.