between logic and emotions...

Vulcans : as Sarek tells Spock about them, “Emotions run deep within our race, in many ways more deeply than in humans. Logic offers a serenity humans seldom experience, a control of feelings so that they do not control you”. Even Kirk needed Spock when it came to warp the Enterprise out of a crisis caused because of his own emotions.

Where do the two originate from - logic and emotions...? Aren't they both from our own thought-processes?

Then why, I wonder, is it so difficult to be rational for humans! Whether it is about asking why tears roll down when the hero of the movie is dying in his mother's arms, or when it is to convince someone to see the rationale behind certain decisions, humans prove Sarek right, time and again. Feelings have taken control of the mind to an extent where they are merely uncontrolled expressions. Seldom does one manage to check these expressions. It simply doesn't seem to work in humankind that the mind can rule over matter... where the mind is the master, and not the slave. Keep the doors open for this to happen, but still, the choice for humans, is to pick the mind being the slave of 'feelings'., and of the surroundings. And for those who choose to control rather than be controlled, are Branded. They are stereotypes who don't understand, are stubborn and determined to be against others.

However one chooses to control feelings, On Vulcan, would have had it taught from childhood. Here on Earth, it's well nigh impossible. One has to find one's teachers... or find other green-blooded hobgoblins. I'll consider myself fortunate for having found not one, but two of them. They help me find rationale when I fail to. While one's way of conveying is by making me realize the 'flow' of things, the other conveys by apt words when I fail at them. One's practical, while the other's words of lesson. One lends experience, while the other lends ideas. It's them that, when I'm unable to check on my emotions, reason me out and make me see logic.

For this, shall this be a "thank you note" to the two... to Music, and to Poetry.

rain, rain, come again...

A boy of about 4 or 5 years, he'd probably just learned to happily sing

"Rain rain go away, little Johnny wants to play...".

but stood at one window of their house in the quarters, sad and disappointed; punished for doing it despite having forbidden to... twice!

It was an early summer day; those days when his place had seen rain with hailstones; and this was one of them. Just as it started pouring down, and the hailstones clattered onto the streets, he'd wanted to run out of the house. He wanted to relish 'Ice'... luxury then. A cautious mother who'd already warned him against going out if and when it rained was busy washing laundry.

However, a few minutes into his hailstone-hunting, she probably realized something was out of place, and went to look outside. Summoned into the house, his head was dried and all the 'Ice' he still carried were poured down the sink. After some chiding, he was given dry clothes to wear, and Ordered (with a O) not to go back into the streets until the rain stopped.

Did she know that was exactly what he would do? For, he was back on the streets and out in the rain, in no time. This time when she found out, he was dragged in, scolded harshly, made to undress and stand waiting for dry clothes, so that he wouldn't go back to the streets. He would have to remain so, until the rain had stopped... and that was her way of keeping him from falling sick.

And there he was, standing at the window, hopelessly staring at the street as the silvery white stones melted away. Little did he know either, that he had already fallen in love with Rain.

As years rolled by, he had forgotten this story, his little love affair with rain. But he never missed a chance to get drenched when it rained. Whether it was on his way back from school, college, the library or office, or anywhere else, he found opportunities to wet himself tip to toe in rain water.

"But now, he's 'Grown-up', and has so much to take care of... a family, his work, friends, society and what not!". Such thoughts seem to have gotten into this puny little thing of his, called the brain, which sometimes works, leading to what the learned ones call 'worry'. His worries and bothering of no apparent origin are taking a toll on everything he's supposed to take care of.

Along came another day, when it rained; just before the onset of another summer. He's just got the chance to savor another shower of rain on his way back home. Again ordered to dry himself (as always, by his mother...), a cup of tea is offered. He picks it up, and walks to the gate wanting to be out there, but is stopped by her once again. 

The craving to go and stand under the bursting clouds is pushing him. Quickly finishing his cup of tea, he runs up to that attic of his house. Just about to enter, he stops, and looks up to the sky. Drops of water force him to close his eyes, but he doesn't bother anymore. He's out there; letting the rain do what it does best. As the drops hit his face, he smiles for the first time in a while. And with the smile, come back sweet memories of how he'd once done the same thing as a little boy.

He had come to peace with himself, and when rain drops trickled down the neck, they washed down all worries with them... at least, for the moment.

ye dost bhi...

ये दोस्त भी अजीब होते है, देने पे आये तो जान दे दे...
लेने पे आये तो हसी तक चीन लेते है!
कहने पे आये तो दिल के तमाम राज़ बोल दे,
छुपाने पे आये तो ये भी न बताये कि आखिर खफा क्यों है!
नाराज़ होगये तो सांस तक ना लेने दे,
मनाने के लिए अपनी साँसों को भी वो वार दे!
इसी लिए कहते है, दोस्त ज़िन्दगी में नहीं मिलते,
ज़िन्दगी दोस्तों से मिलती है।

                  -Anon

What men want... and what they get!

When some people hear you describing stuff, they turn out with their own versions of it...
here's one that says about women... of all those types that strike, sometimes a chord, in the hearts of men...

kuch ladkiyan hawa ke jhonke se hoti hai,
bas gaalo ko choom ke guzar jaati hai.
Kuch aur ko wo jhonke yaad dilaati hai,
jinhe soch dil se ek muksaan nikalti hai.

aur kuch hai jo yaado me bas jaati hai,
firaq bhi jinhe hum se door nahi kar paati hai.
par jo sapno me aake neend cheen leti hai,
rishte se wo biwi kehlaati hai.

-Anon.

Last days and a lonely ride 5

Day 3 : The lost piece...

A "Paanch Samosa Pineapple Pastry"... after an exotic snack as that, the junta disperses in bits and pieces. For the two earlybirds that left without a taste of it, parcels are prepared, but end up dumped in a bin., courtesy, the shadow on a bicycle that frightens the delivery-girl. (Aparna, I never thought I'm so frightening...):

Day 4,5,6,7 : Adventure is out there!

A 0730Hrs departure plan gets me saddled up by 0650Hrs. A wait for breakfast company till 0830Hrs, Suri is finally there, and we have breakfast till 0925Hrs. The next 35 minutes are for the Three Musketeers. All of what was spoken shall remain unspoken, and a lot that had to be spoken remains unspoken. It's 1000Hrs., finally and an adieu for the moment.

A few minutes into the journey, the cellphone and watch are dumped deep within the backpack. "Dear world, I'm not a part of you until I'm back home, and I shall live the moments that shall come by at my own pace."

A few starting glitches, loose nuts, all fixed, the journey has begun. It's a whole new world out there. Ups, downs, sweaty brows... I'm getting exhausted faster than I thought I will... packs of re-hydration stuff, quick calories, they're becoming more essential. My first pit-stop is sooner than I thought.

Barely 20km into my journey and about two and a half hours of non-stop cycling, and I'm physically giving up... there's a tree near one school, and kids playing nearby. I stop for a while, where one of them, I make friends with. He gives me the most profound lesson of the journey. "Take more short breaks instead of few long breaks."

Next, it's a stream, and the sun's blaze suggests it's around 1300Hrs. A good time to spend in the cool waters. Another break, and the journey continues.

My greatest challenge shows itself up by 1600Hrs. Agumbe-ghat takes me over four hours with three long breaks to gain the 550-odd meters of altitude. The security at the checkpoint is fancied by my adventure and lets me pass, despite his hunch that a pack of glucose could be drugs... :D

Here on, I don't want to keep track of the journey either... just to live the moment.

The eighty four hours and six minutes of cycling that take me from the MIT campus in Manipal to my home in Bangalore... those few hours of my life teach me more than I could have ever imagined... a lot of them coming from enlightened minds I meet along my journey.

"Don't just love your family! Care for them. Don't just care for the 'Green' of the Earth, learn to love it."
"Money is the last thing needed for someone to be happy."
"Don't be irreplaceable. You will be stuck in the same place forever, like a tree."
Think simple... like the school kid. Greater challenges become trifles.
I'm willing to chase a dream. A lot of people can't sleep.
Be carefree about what people think.
*wants* should come only after *needs*, and *cans*.
...

Oh! This list could go on, all the way to death. "Lectures on philosophy", I'll title the book if I write any about it.

It's 2206Hrs on Saturday, when I unlock the doors and enter 'home sweet home'.
Wow! I've actually cycled all the way back home. It's a sense of amazement about what a little frustration and *mind over matter* can do together...

I'm unable to understand what emotions I'm going through. I'm not tired, or excited, or happy... or maybe I'm experiencing all of them together... maybe, it's just those three sleepless nights and I'm hallucinating... just again, maybe, the pack of glucose was indeed drugs... :P
I leave a message for those whom I'd promised I would. I've had a long shower and the last of my left-over chocolates... staple diet in all my journeys.

I think I should be off to bed... a good sleep is what I need... I'm lying on bare ground, recalling every moment of the past week as they unfurled and decide to put it up on my blog. I'll want this recorded... just for me, and not anyone else. But I guess the mind finally gave in to the body sooner than usual.

Last days and a lonely ride 4

Day 3 : ... a bicycle story and paanch Samosa

One final get-together since most of us had decided to pack our bags the next day. At about 6PM, an SMS drops in... "Come to Crumbs by 7:30". One chunk that had gone outing, another that had gone roaming, and me... so it turns out, that I'm the only one who's to go from campus. What had been an impulse, is time to show off. That I am going alone gives me reason to ride out on my brand-new bicycle.

7:30pm, and nobody is yet there at Crumbs. A wait of over twenty minutes finally bears fruit, and we're all gathered at the stairs. I murmur into the one standing beside me pointing at one car, and

"What the #$%^. Seriously?"
"Yeah. See for yourself." ...and I hand over the keys.

Unable to understand the reaction, everyone turns towards her...

"He's bought a new bicycle it seems..." a pause until everyone digested the news...
And then, "I'm riding it to Bangalore tomorrow."

Hitesh is the first to speak. "He's cool..."
"Paagal!"
"Hucch hididaiti? Illind benglurig cycle-daag hogti?"
"Tu bangalore jaane ke liye cycle khareeda?"
"Good luck with your adventure dude."
"Haan. Issi liye to Sunday ko tum logon ko baar baar call kar raha tha..."
"Hey, give me one ride no..."
"KC, be careful. Aparna doesn't know how to brake..."
"Are Aparna, tumhare pair neeche tak pahunchte nahi hai... be careful!"
...
...
People wanting to, take turns in riding, and then we go inside.

Some pastries ordered, a couple of sandwiches...
"Why don't we celebrate?"
"Okay... How about cutting a cake?"
So we decide it is pineapple pastry, but nobody is sure what to ice it with...

In the meanwhile, Irfan comes back asking for seconds... His order is for 5 samosas, and another muffin.
Orders billed at the counter...

"So what do you want for icing?"
"Abe, koi kuch to bolo..."
after a pause, when there are no suggestions, "Jo order diya, ussi ko daal de!"
"Theek hai. You can put 5 samosas on it."

All said and done, Crumbs wasn't going to fill our stomachs, and we decide to go elsewhere.
Scirocco comes up as a suggestion, and the choice. We go there, order some mocktails, which are a literal mockery of their names... (the food was okay, though!) about ten minutes to ten, two of them girls stand to leave for hostels, when we're still waiting for the cake we'd ordered. Finally, the *Paanch Samosa* arrives at ten past ten. This is got to be the most memorable cake for all those present on that day. After all, who would ice a cake with five Samosas?

We ask the couple (Bhautik and his wife, Dipali) to cut it on our behalf, and for the first time, we all tasted a pineapple pastry with 5 Samosas on it... Try it sometime... ;)

Last days and a lonely ride 3

Day 3 : Good-byes and...

It was most certain we wouldn't be meeting again... 'cos I'd decided so. (though 'Time' had something else in store). I'm wanting to say one last goodbye to my musketeers. They've meant the world to Monsieur d'Artagnan when he was away from home... and I'm grateful to them for all that they've been.

Though I get a very short time out of their busy day., those few minutes, as they say, "Time had no meaning." in my world. Ab Lincoln has apparently said "If your biggest weakness is your friends, you are the strongest person you know". I don't know how true the second part of his saying is, but I sure realize the weight of that first part. Yet again, those whom I open doors for, are bidding goodbye.

"What is this?""Just a something for you, and this one for you" ... "You're not supposed to open them now."
"Why?"
"Just so... Please, not now. You can open it after we leave."
"Are you sure?"
"More than sure."..."And that's for you... Does that compensate for the three Roche I owe you?"
"Ya, Ya..."
"By the way, I got something more for you... I'd promised you this one..."
"Yeh to iska ************ hai. Dekh ke hi pata chalta hai."
"Seriously?"
"Yup."
"SERIOUSLY?"
"Yup. You'll have to spend about *** rupees to get it back in good shape. I can help you with it if you want me to."
...
"want to join for breakfast?"
"Nope... got other plans... and I know you want to open 'em too..."
... and then we all leave the place.

(Every so often, I spend nights at the MIT ground... replaying every moment of that day as it unfolds...)

After what's been a wonderful adventure, Monsieur d'Artagnan is alone on his path now... 
And the musketeers...? Well, that will only be written "twenty years later"... ;)

Praful, Tübs, Buzz... just as much as I can say...
"Na saathi hai koi, na hamsafar hai koi...
Na hum kisi ke, na hamara hai koi.
Par aap ko yaad kar ke dil kehta hai...
hamara bhi is duniya mein ek pyaara dost hai koi."    -Anon

In the hope that Monsieur d'Artagnan will see his three Musketeers "Twenty Years Later"...,