I talk to walls
and streams and waterfalls
on such days as these
And the great divide
between what’s wrong and what you fight
wider, deeper still
the distance between my voice and your will
The forests hear, nod sympathetically
empathetically
Yet rooted to the ground
what know they of the unbound
the little joys in being
in understanding
feeling
There are more things than you readily comprehend
There are more tales than you can satisfactorily end
There’s strange comfort in becoming what you pretend
I stand silent, these thoughts in mind
waiting another turn, maybe another time
Permission I seek
permission to speak
permission to even a score
and how come nobody listens anymore?
Friday, January 19, 2007
Thursday, January 18, 2007
Just another sleepless night
Just how the fuck does anybody in Bhutan ever get anything done online? I’d really like to know. I have to connect and reconnect a thousand times just to check my mail. And each time I connect the modem makes these funny noises I’d forgotten existed. It’s like going back into the dark ages. They say they’re getting broadband round here soon, but I expect it’s going to cost the moon. What I’ll do when I’m back home for good, I don’t know.
On the snow front, it’s been three days now that the Gods have been teasing us. It looked like there was definitely going to be some action today, and then- nothing. Again. Why can’t it just goddamn snow already?
One thing I haven’t posted about yet is my sister’s upcoming marriage. Home is full of plans and preparations, even though we’re keeping it a low-key affair. The interesting part is that we’re Hindu, and the guy she’s getting married to is Catholic, so there are going to be two ceremonies- the Hindu ceremony here in Thimphu, and a church wedding down in Bangalore. Should be interesting. Will keep you all posted.
PS: for those of you accusing me of voyeurism, it's a big deal even getting through to your page in the first place, so commenting is almost impossible. Apologies.
Waah, me wanna to go back Bangalore!
On the snow front, it’s been three days now that the Gods have been teasing us. It looked like there was definitely going to be some action today, and then- nothing. Again. Why can’t it just goddamn snow already?
One thing I haven’t posted about yet is my sister’s upcoming marriage. Home is full of plans and preparations, even though we’re keeping it a low-key affair. The interesting part is that we’re Hindu, and the guy she’s getting married to is Catholic, so there are going to be two ceremonies- the Hindu ceremony here in Thimphu, and a church wedding down in Bangalore. Should be interesting. Will keep you all posted.
PS: for those of you accusing me of voyeurism, it's a big deal even getting through to your page in the first place, so commenting is almost impossible. Apologies.
Waah, me wanna to go back Bangalore!
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
Catharsis
Wow I definitely deserve the Blogger Award For Most Unentertaining And Unnecessarily And Unreasonably Bleak Post Of The Year for that last one, eh? However, my least favourite post did get me some of my favourite comments yet. Lots of good advice there. Thanks, you all, especially Ame- you had me all cracked up. I couldn’t follow your advice though- I’ve been avoiding getting anywhere with girls since my last break-up a year and a half ago. Too bad, huh?
So anyway, what I have been doing is travelling- for real. And some travelling it’s been. Fifty-four hours on a Guwahati-bound train doesn’t feature on too many “Things To Do Before I Die” lists, and you can take my word for why. And try lugging along a Labrador if you decide to try it. Poor Yoko had to travel in a small dark and dirty cage at the back of the train. Thankfully she’s of such angelic disposition that she took it all in good humour and was most understanding about the whole matter. Now for those of you not privileged enough to have been in India, trains around here are not the romantic “Oh how lovely!” affairs you’re used to. Our trains are dirty, smelly and uncomfortable, with mostly irritating and uncooperative co-passengers, and officials hawking for any chance to make a few extra hundreds.
We were doing fine, my sister and I, and then at the Howrah station her wallet got stolen while pushing through the crowd. There you go, that’s Kolkata for you. She lost all her cards and almost all the cash we were carrying. A quick look into my wallet, and we realized we had all of two hundred rupees to get us to Thimphu. Great.
The train always gets us to our station somewhere in the middle of the night. This time it was 12:30 am. It takes us another ten hours to get home from there. Dad had sent a car with the driver to pick us up, and we were just so glad to be off the train that in a gross misplacement of common sense and rational thinking, we decided to make the four-hour journey to the border town Phuentsholing immediately.
Now the area we pass through to get there is notoriously rife with bandits, armed rebels and such-like. Vehicles with Bhutanese license plates have infamously been their favourite targets, I suppose owing to the generally larger takings. To make things worse, there was one factor we had not considered- the fog. Fog that reduced visibility to little over a metre at some points. (I’m sure my English friends can fully appreciate the situation, can’t you now?) And the car didn’t have fog lights. We regretted leaving at night, but we were on the highway already and we had to make it all the way now.
The visibility was so poor that at some points we had to lean out of the windows and actually look for a road to drive on. And then, halfway through, the driver started complaining of a bad headache and nausea, and he almost dropped off at the wheel. The solution? Utsav to the rescue. The other problem? I’ve never driven on a busy highway at night in such weather. Nor do I have a driving license. But better an inexperienced driver than a sick one, we decided. Thankfully the fog cleared after a bit and I was left with a clear road ahead.
I did manage to get us to Phuentsholing safe and sound. Rested there and made it up to Thimphu later in the day. And even as we entered the city limits, we were greeted by the first snowflakes of the season. Great way to end a crazy journey. Sadly though, it didn’t blanket-snow. A few flakes fell today too, but no real snow. A couple of days, I suppose. It’s freezing cold, though. Right now it’s 3 am and I’m sitting half-awake typing this, in front of a searing heater just so I feel my toes still belong to me. Damn connection is a dial-up (yes, even in 2007), so it takes me forever to open one silly page, and that if I can stay connected for that long. And they charge by the minute. Bastards.
So anyway, what I have been doing is travelling- for real. And some travelling it’s been. Fifty-four hours on a Guwahati-bound train doesn’t feature on too many “Things To Do Before I Die” lists, and you can take my word for why. And try lugging along a Labrador if you decide to try it. Poor Yoko had to travel in a small dark and dirty cage at the back of the train. Thankfully she’s of such angelic disposition that she took it all in good humour and was most understanding about the whole matter. Now for those of you not privileged enough to have been in India, trains around here are not the romantic “Oh how lovely!” affairs you’re used to. Our trains are dirty, smelly and uncomfortable, with mostly irritating and uncooperative co-passengers, and officials hawking for any chance to make a few extra hundreds.
We were doing fine, my sister and I, and then at the Howrah station her wallet got stolen while pushing through the crowd. There you go, that’s Kolkata for you. She lost all her cards and almost all the cash we were carrying. A quick look into my wallet, and we realized we had all of two hundred rupees to get us to Thimphu. Great.
The train always gets us to our station somewhere in the middle of the night. This time it was 12:30 am. It takes us another ten hours to get home from there. Dad had sent a car with the driver to pick us up, and we were just so glad to be off the train that in a gross misplacement of common sense and rational thinking, we decided to make the four-hour journey to the border town Phuentsholing immediately.
Now the area we pass through to get there is notoriously rife with bandits, armed rebels and such-like. Vehicles with Bhutanese license plates have infamously been their favourite targets, I suppose owing to the generally larger takings. To make things worse, there was one factor we had not considered- the fog. Fog that reduced visibility to little over a metre at some points. (I’m sure my English friends can fully appreciate the situation, can’t you now?) And the car didn’t have fog lights. We regretted leaving at night, but we were on the highway already and we had to make it all the way now.
The visibility was so poor that at some points we had to lean out of the windows and actually look for a road to drive on. And then, halfway through, the driver started complaining of a bad headache and nausea, and he almost dropped off at the wheel. The solution? Utsav to the rescue. The other problem? I’ve never driven on a busy highway at night in such weather. Nor do I have a driving license. But better an inexperienced driver than a sick one, we decided. Thankfully the fog cleared after a bit and I was left with a clear road ahead.
I did manage to get us to Phuentsholing safe and sound. Rested there and made it up to Thimphu later in the day. And even as we entered the city limits, we were greeted by the first snowflakes of the season. Great way to end a crazy journey. Sadly though, it didn’t blanket-snow. A few flakes fell today too, but no real snow. A couple of days, I suppose. It’s freezing cold, though. Right now it’s 3 am and I’m sitting half-awake typing this, in front of a searing heater just so I feel my toes still belong to me. Damn connection is a dial-up (yes, even in 2007), so it takes me forever to open one silly page, and that if I can stay connected for that long. And they charge by the minute. Bastards.
Friday, January 12, 2007
Filler post
Title: Blog update- Edit #100, maybe more.
Subject: Incoherent lashing out
My brain refuses to work. There's a fine pink mist clouding it. This might just be my most incoherent post yet- hooray! No I'm not drunk- that I was yesterday. Exams are over. I should be a happy man. Life is normal again. Maybe too much so. No special rules apply anymore. No excuses. The world hits me with all its ugliness afresh. All this time there were other things to look at- equations, circuits, pictures of radars (oh yes, the last one was porn). So I dug a hole and hid in it. I became Travis Bickle's rain and washed away the scum. In my mind. All in my mind. The filth doesn't go. It just piles on and on. More shit by the day. Shit in the streets, shit in our lives, shit in my life. Ghosts come to haunt. Ghosts from the past. Music hurts my ears. I'm not going crazy- I'm just de-stressing. But I need the stress. Ordinary life sucks the vitality out of me. It makes me level with the world, which I am, but I would rather not believe. Isn't this blog called Illusion something anyway? A few days, I'll be fine. I always am.
“One of these days I gotta get myself organizized.”
Subject: Incoherent lashing out
My brain refuses to work. There's a fine pink mist clouding it. This might just be my most incoherent post yet- hooray! No I'm not drunk- that I was yesterday. Exams are over. I should be a happy man. Life is normal again. Maybe too much so. No special rules apply anymore. No excuses. The world hits me with all its ugliness afresh. All this time there were other things to look at- equations, circuits, pictures of radars (oh yes, the last one was porn). So I dug a hole and hid in it. I became Travis Bickle's rain and washed away the scum. In my mind. All in my mind. The filth doesn't go. It just piles on and on. More shit by the day. Shit in the streets, shit in our lives, shit in my life. Ghosts come to haunt. Ghosts from the past. Music hurts my ears. I'm not going crazy- I'm just de-stressing. But I need the stress. Ordinary life sucks the vitality out of me. It makes me level with the world, which I am, but I would rather not believe. Isn't this blog called Illusion something anyway? A few days, I'll be fine. I always am.
“One of these days I gotta get myself organizized.”
Friday, January 05, 2007
Elsewhere, In The Real World Today
I stare at the question paper, it stares back defiantly. "Solve me," it challenges. I take it on. I lose.
I'm out early. Too early. Don't ask me why there's a Douglas Adams book in my bag. There just is- I'm the one telling the story, yeah? So I sit alone in the sun and laugh my head off as Arthur and Ford chase a sofa through medieval earth only to find themselves at the Lord's cricket ground. I can never get enough of that book. People walk past me with at least one raised eyebrow. Someone passes by saying "Stop smiling at the book!" Thank heavens for alternate realities.
Bus ride home. Driver wants to know if I'm Mauritian. No I'm not, thank you very much. Classmates are in a celebratory mood. The best part about the department is its sense of humour. We laugh the most when we're dealt the worst papers. Cries of "Inquilaab Zindabaad" ("Long Live The Revolution"- the defining chant of the Indian Freedom Struggle) were heard earlier, while we walked into the exam hall.
Home. Mauled by Yoko upon entry as usual. Her bowl of food lies untouched. I go buy her roomali rotis and chicken curry. She wolfs it down. Ever wonder where the expression "lucky dog" came from?
Computer. Imogen Heap. Loud. Notepad. Blogger. Ah, now I'm home.
Coming up soon- tea, bed, tea, Radar Systems, tea. Just two more to go now.
I'm out early. Too early. Don't ask me why there's a Douglas Adams book in my bag. There just is- I'm the one telling the story, yeah? So I sit alone in the sun and laugh my head off as Arthur and Ford chase a sofa through medieval earth only to find themselves at the Lord's cricket ground. I can never get enough of that book. People walk past me with at least one raised eyebrow. Someone passes by saying "Stop smiling at the book!" Thank heavens for alternate realities.
Bus ride home. Driver wants to know if I'm Mauritian. No I'm not, thank you very much. Classmates are in a celebratory mood. The best part about the department is its sense of humour. We laugh the most when we're dealt the worst papers. Cries of "Inquilaab Zindabaad" ("Long Live The Revolution"- the defining chant of the Indian Freedom Struggle) were heard earlier, while we walked into the exam hall.
Home. Mauled by Yoko upon entry as usual. Her bowl of food lies untouched. I go buy her roomali rotis and chicken curry. She wolfs it down. Ever wonder where the expression "lucky dog" came from?
Computer. Imogen Heap. Loud. Notepad. Blogger. Ah, now I'm home.
Coming up soon- tea, bed, tea, Radar Systems, tea. Just two more to go now.
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
New Year, Oh Dear!
So the planet survived another swing across ol' Sol. Just one more excuse for six billion people to act silly. If anyone, it's the Earth who should be celebrating not having to sleep under a cozy nuclear blanket one extra year. Or maybe I'm just grumpy from the VLSI paper today. I'm still to find one person from my department who did it well. Either way, I spent my New Year watching NDTV 24X7. At least they had the pretty Smriti Rao handling the proceedings and saying something to the effect of, "If you're watching this, it probably means your party plans didn't quite work out." Heh heh, you have no idea.
My resolutions this year, in no particular order (or maybe in some vague semblance of one)-
I shall:
1. Stop goofing around with my guitar and seriously learn my scales and modes. No more picking up licks and riffs from here and there and everywhere.
2. Buy and teach myself to play the harmonica. Ideally I'd like to have learnt the piano, but compromises must be made.
3. Visit Goa and drink myself senseless there before I leave India. My course finishes in June and it would be sacrilege to leave the country without having been to Goa even once.
4. Work on improving my writing by err.. writing. [Read: blogging regularly and religiously]
5. Watch all the Star Wars movies and see what the fuss is all about.
6. Watch all the LOTR movies and see what the fuss is all about.
7. Not write an 8 point resolution at the end of this year and instead welcome 2008 very drunk.
So, in a dramatic change of mood, here's wishing a Happy New Year to everyone, and especially to the friends I've made here the last few months. You know who you are.
Now to go get myself an hour's worth of sleep, more subjects lined up in the next few days. I'm so sleepy it's almost like typing in a haze. I hope I made enough sense above.
PS: It's nice to have the rare combination of a day off and a working internet connection. Thank you, Sify for giving me such wonderful service. If it hadn't been for that exorbitant installation fee I had to pay you....
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