Probably Not.

And I write, once again.. again there is fuel, to the fire - enough for many lifetimes this time - and yet one life which may yet be cut short - ahead of its time. 

I feel, once again - no longer a rock, an island - but a whirlpool of emotions - at the edge of sobbery - waiting to burst into tears.

Helpless at not being able to help the one person in this world who helped me the most, always, unconditionally and without limit. Helpless at the sheer irony of it all. Helpless at the pure liquid anger of it all. 

Sitting in silences, waiting for an inevitability. Dreading the actuality of when and not if. 

No one should experience this, and yet so many do - so many - all over - everywhere. Makes my fundamental atheist heart glad. There can be no god. Not for this world, of sorrow and misery and helpless ironies.

And yet, one has had time to come to grips with the helpless eventuality that is. As much of a grip as one can get with something like this. It is a gradual slide in despondent misery, but yet let us be glad of its gradual slide.  

And yet, it seems almost unreal, until it is. And when it will be, would it have helped that it was gradual. Probably Not. 

Maan Ne Kahaa Chhaae Ghataa 
To Barase Paanii Ye Paanii Magar
Aankhon Mein Kyuun Aa Gayaa
Baadal Kahaan Chhaa Gayaa*

*Maa Ne Kaha - Zakhm - Lyrics by Anand Bakshi 1998

Chaos. TravelBlog. Feb 2015.

Chaos. TravelBlog. Feb 2015.

PERSPECTIVES. MIXX NIGHT CLUB

THAINESS PARADE 2015

 THAINESS PARADE 2015

THAINESS SHOW LUMPHINI PARK 2015

THAINESS SHOW LUMPHINI PARK 2015

 

 MADE BY LEGACY. HIPSTER MARKET. 

 MADE BY LEGACY. HIPSTER MARKET. 

Chaos. TravelBlog. Jan 2015.

Chaos. TravelBlog. Jan 2015.

                                        GRAND PALACE, BANGKOK, JAN 2015

PAGODAS OF THE RAMA KINGS

TEMPLE OF THE EMERALD BUDDHA

MINI ANGKOR WAT REPLICA

DEMONS HOLDING THE GOLDEN PAGODA

HIDDEN ROCKERY WITH MINIATURE TEMPLE

 THE RECLINING BUDDHA

GUARDING THE TEMPLES

He Travels Farthest Who Travels Within...*

*Rf: Anahat Arora 2012

Atlas Shrugged!

Buy Atlas Shrugged Merchandise and promote the movie!

Excellent Post about how the book changed my life and ho ive been dying for the movie to come out coming soon!

a higher purpose...

The complacency of laziness – the art of laziness – relater – one who feels and finds solace in his comfort zone - in the home we have built for ourselves – in the rented space we seek to make ours for this brief time – we frame our pictures and hang them on walls and create a sense of ours – we seek to cover our lives in a layer of soothing familiarity – to escape from the fact that nothing is familiar – a new life a new home a new us – inevitable change defeated by framed movie posters and a collage of black and white still photographs – yet the unfamiliar isn’t altogether frightening – in fact it has become the perfect oasis of comfort – my new comfort – my beanbag replaced by an expensive couch and my sheesha and flat screen is now ours – individualism subverted for a better cause –a higher purpose – companionship – the kind that smells of fresh pine and freshly baked brown bread – the kind that you come home to each evening – and collapse in its manifold seductions of tranquility and belonging – and now you truly know what it means to come home – what home is – not just a collection of ikea – but a person with whom – home truly is – and then you realize that is isn’t about brick and mortar at all – but about who you share the space with – and then it doesn’t seem so criminal to think of moving on again – because you aren’t really moving on you’re just occupying some other space somewhere else – with the same person – home is where the heart is – home is where my heart is – her.

We keep our promises...

www.facebook.com/tajmahalmumbai - the promise was to rebuild brick by brick and we keep our promises - The Taj Mahal Palaceis ready to welcome guests starting August 15

Homes...

mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,

be it ever so humble, there's no place like home*

Home.. it's a very emotional word.. almost sacred.. in many ways... I have no home.. not in the physical sense that most people are used to... this is yet the story of my many homes.. the bundle of emotions that come with that and expectations of the future...

may be surrounded by
a million people I
still feel all alone
just wanna go home...**

The home I first remember had bee hives and plastic pools and a vegetable garden, I have vaguememories of picking beans and uprooting radish... The rest fades away in a sense of swirling brown furniture and some white walls... I don't know what became of it.. maybe someday I'll go back to it... 

There was a another home.. it was larger and more airy and I recall harmonium lessons... but that's most of it...

The home I grew up in.. in Jangpura - B is gone.. well it's still there but its been transformed into something ugly and functional... this home... my home went through many physical transformations.. yet it holds the only sense of home for me.. of standing still.. of belonging... I grew up here.. two decades worth of life, school friends and girl friends.. tents and beds, cupboards and wall posters, collages and carpets.. nights spends and days and afternoons, meals and parties.. birthdays and get-togethers.. many years of becoming who I am.. shaped in this abode.. yet.. today it is no more.. it was and will always be only in my mind the way I want it to be.. my home my only real home.. exists now only as a figment of my own mind.. 

After this my life has been a plethora of apartments.. 

Chennai.. three years three apartments.. Wallace Garden, Kilpauk and Harrington Road.. three makeshift lives, in three different stages, no real attachments.. you move from place to place taking with you little symbols of yourself.. books, curios, quilts and other scatterings, trying desperately to personalise an impersonal space.. trying to make it something you can call home.. very personally.. in a strange land.. in a new place.. you struggle to create a space of familiarity.. of comfort.. to come back to..

Bombay.. two years and two apartments.. different stages same building, same job.. you reach the city of dreams.. the one you always were drawn towards.. towards it's soul.. and you create again.. after being uprooted.. a sense of space you can climb into at the end of the evening.. to sink into a large beanbag and smoke a sheehsee and watch tele.. an look around the four walls.. bear now.. company accommodation... where someone else has been and someone else will be.. and while its yours.. you try your best to fortify that sense of mine..

Another aeroplane, another sunny place,
I'm lucky I know
but I wanna go home**

and between Chennai and Bombay... Gurgaon.. a beautiful home.. yet almost a guest house.. no time.. short visits.. by the time the sense of belonging grew it was always time to leave.. year after year time after time.. no time.. a home needs time.. time to belong.. to share.. to experience.. to create memories which you can carry.. on..

Delhi.. home again.. in some ways.. and in many more ways.. back to Nizz and the familiar.. another attempt of transplanting your life form one set of four walls to another and another struggle to adjust... but this time it was different.. human.. there was much more to coming home to this home than ever before.. thank you my hobbit.. for in some ways a real home after so long.. you can try as much as you like to personalise your space with as much of yourself but the only thing that makes it truly personal are the memories and love.. and the memories of love.. and for that.. you need someone.. to share that space with you.. truly.. and that makes it home.. people not just you care about and care for, but those you love, home is about being loved where you are... in some ways...

another year.. more travel, more apartments, Singapore & Ithaca, Nanyang Heights and Maplewood.. smaller rooms, more impersonal this time.. almost transitional almost knowledge that this time don't invest emotionally in this space.. it is transient.. passing..

and into a new tomorrow.. forward always onwards.. to a new home, to create a new home, somewhere else, another little haven a sense of slipping back into the familiar.. into that little comfort zone.. and again with someone.. with love.. with the one i love..

Let me go home
it'll all be alright
I'll be home tonight
I'm coming back home**

so many homes.. and none... homeless almost... but yet hopeful... 

*cf: John Howard Payne, 1823

**cf: Home, Michael Buble

Hotelies With a Heart

 

Hotelies with a Heart is a group of undergraduate and graduate students from the School of Hotel Administration at Cornell University, New York, who share a strong desire to help members of the hospitality industry in times of need.
 
The city of Mumbai, India was witness to a series of horrific terrorist attacks on November 26, 2008. Over 200 people lost their lives, and even more were injured. During the attacks at the Oberoi-Trident and Taj Mahal Palace & Tower, 22 employees were killed in the line of fire; they were killed while protecting their guests.
 
Hotelies with a Heart is raising funds for families of the employees who were killed in the attacks. Our goal is to raise Rs100,000 per employee ($50,000 in total). I invite you to learn more about these heroes, and to help us help their families. Visit www.hotelieswithaheart.com to view videos, articles and guest testimonials relating to the '26-11 Fund.' We are welcoming donations online via our web site.

Each member of our Executive Committee does or has previously worked with Oberoi-Trident or Taj Group of Hotels. We share a relationship with both companies and will present all funds raised to Presidents of Trident Hotels  and the Taj Group of Hotels on April 02, 2009. We appreciate your help in passing this message on to your friends, family and colleagues. 

Word-of-mouth is the most powerful tool we have.

We will rebuild Every Inch!!

On Wednesday 26th November, a large, well prepared and ruthless terrorist gang launched simultaneous suicide attacks on more than ten locations across Mumbai. Such a level of deadly force applied in a sophisticated attack took the whole country and all its agencies by surprise. The nature of the attacks was to indiscriminately take life in a number of publicly accessible places.
These included the Taj Mahal Palace and Towers, other hotels, a restaurant and public transport locations & a public hospital. We would like to express our heartfelt thanks and deep personal respects to all the members of the National Security Guard, Rapid Action Force, Mumbai Police, Marine Commandos & Grenadiers Regiment (Indian Army) who gave their lives or risked their lives as they confronted the terrorist attackers.
Our thoughts also remain with all those who lost their lives during the attacks - our guests, our staff and their families and many other fellow citizens of Mumbai.



The Taj is very much a symbol of India and we are actually seeing a battle on and we will be defiant. We are monitoring the development of the unfortunate situation unfolding in South Mumbai, in and around our hotel and are fully cooperating with the police and the government authorities to ensure the safety and security of all our guests and staff.
That is all we can say at the moment and we would like to channelise all our effort and energy to ensure a speedy normalisation of the situation as best as we can.
We will rebuild every inch that has been damaged in this attack and bring back the Taj to its full glory.
- The Indian Hotels Company Ltd Statement on 27th November 2008.



The terrible wanton attacks last night on innocent people and the destruction of prominent landmarks in India deserve to be universally condemned.
My sympathies and condolences go out to all those who have suffered, been injured, and those who have lost their loved ones in this terrible act of hatred and destruction. It is important that divisive forces were not allowed to weaken the country. We must stand together, shoulder to shoulder as citizens of India, and rebuild what has been destroyed.
We must show that we cannot be disabled or destroyed, but that such heinous act will only make us stronger. We need to overcome these forces as one strong unified nation.
-Ratan Naval Tata, Chairman Tata Sons on 27th November 2008.

When the property is handed back to our full control, we will commission a range of professionals to carry out studies of the structure, services, the extent of fire damage and all other aspects of the condition of the building.
Nothing can compensate for the terrible loss of life across the city of Mumbai over the past few days and the impact on families and loved ones.
But the Taj Mahal Palace and Tower stands as an icon of the city of Mumbai, a symbol of both independence and dignity. It will also stand in the future as a representation of the indomitable human spirit of the people of Mumbai displayed in the face of the greatest adversity.
- The Indian Hotels Company Ltd Statement on 29th Novembe 2008.

The Taj is defiant...

The Taj is very much a symbol of India and we are actually seeing a battle on and we will be defiant.
We are monitoring the development of the unfortunate situation unfolding in South Mumbai, in and around our hotel and are fully cooperating with the police and the government authorities to ensure the safety and security of all our guests and staff. That is all we can say at the moment and we would like to channelise all our effort and energy to ensure a speedy normalisation of the situation as best as we can.
We will rebuild every inch that has been damaged in this attack and bring back the Taj to its full glory.
- The Indian Hotels Company Ltd Statement
on 27th November 2008.




The terrible wanton attacks last night on innocent people and the destruction of prominent landmarks in India deserve to be universally condemned. My sympathies and condolences go out to all those who have suffered, been injured, and those who have lost their loved ones in this terrible act of hatred and destruction.
It is important that divisive forces were not allowed to weaken the country. We must stand together, shoulder to shoulder as citizens of India, and rebuild what has been destroyed.
We must show that we cannot be disabled or destroyed, but that such heinous act will only make us stronger. We need to overcome these forces as one strong unified nation.
-Ratan Naval Tata, Chairman Tata Sons
on 27th November 2008.

awake... and abandon the ego...

Knowledge has always been touted over the ages as a source of power, even enlightenment, yet over the ages the greatest thinkers, have warned us not to revel in our false knowledge, in individuality and in a sense of our own being.
Indeed they have all advocated abandoning the ego and of discarding the individual as the only path to true knowledge and even nirvana.
Each ancient tradition has discovered its own version of this thought. In our global village we need to discover this Axial ethos again. 'Do not do unto others what you would not have done to you', and each of these minds have discovered their own path to this ultimate religion of oneness and nothingness and peace.

Who verily knows and who can here declare it,
whence it was born and whence comes this creation?
The gods are later than this world's production,
who knows then whence it first came into being?
He, the first origin off this creation,
whether he formed it all or did not form it,
Whose eyes controls this world in highest heaven,
he verily knows it - or perhaps he knows not.*

One day a brahmin, walking down a path found a man sitting under a tree and the sight of his serenity, stillness and self-discipline filled the priest with awe. The man reminded him of a tusker elephant - there was the same sense of enormous strength and massive potential brought under control and channeled into an extraordinary peace. The brahmin had never seen a man like this before. "Are you a God sir?" he asked "An angel perhaps or a spirit?"
"No." replied the man "I am surely none of these, I am merely the best in myself. I have simply revealed a new potential in human nature. It is possible to live in this world of dukkha at peace, in control and in harmony with all creatures. Once people have cut the roots of their egotism, they live at the peak of their capacity" he said.
The brahmin understood, instantly and subtlety all at once, "How should I describe you?" he inquired.
"Remember me," the Lord Goutama Buddha told him, "as one who is awake."**

Centre your attention - Stop listening with your ears and listen with your mind. Then stop listening with your mind and listen with your primal spirit. Hearing is limited to the ear. The mind is limited to tallying things up. But the primal spirit which is within you, is empty. It's simply that which awaits things. Tao is emptiness merged and emptiness is the mind's fast. To know something is to distinguish it form something else, to forget these distinctions is to become aware of undifferentiated unity and to lose all sense of being a separate individual.
Instead of using every opportunity to feed the ego, we had to starve it. Even the best intentions could be grist to the mill of our selfishness.*** - Said Kong Qiu^ (551-479) to his disciples.
One day his favourite disciple came to him, "I'm gaining ground" beamed Yan Hui "I sit quietly and I forget". "What do you mean?" asked his master. "I let the body fall away and the intellect fade. I throw out form abandon understanding - and then move freely blending away into the great transformation"
Kong Qiu went pale with delight, his disciple had surpassed him. "If you blend away like that, you are free of likes and desires and all ego. If you are all transformation, you are free of permanence. So in the end there is only you."****

"Ask questions and analyse the implications of the answers, discover the inherent flaws and inconsistencies of every single point of view. Reject one definition after another. Your aim is not to come up with a clever or intellectually satisfying solution. The admission we seek is that there is no answer. This discovery and confusion is far more important that a neat conclusion, because once you have realised that you know nothing, once you have abandoned the myth of your ego, your philosophical quest can begin" said Socrates.****

When he sees identity in everything
Whether Joy or Suffering
Through analogy with the self,
He is deemed a man of pure discipline******


*Rig Veda, 10.129:6-7 (Circa 1600-900 BCE)
**Angutara Nikaya 4.36 (Circa 450-398 BCE)
***The Book of Zhuangzi 4:26-28 (Circa 400-300 BCE)
****The Book of Zhuangzi 6:93 (Circa 400-300 BCE)
*****Laches - Plato (Circa 400 BCE)
******Bhagvad Gita 6:32 (Cirica 300 BCE)

^Kong Qiu was know as Kongfuzi or 'Our Master Kong' - or in translation - Confucius

Overriding Credit: The Great Transformation (the beginning of our religious traditions) - Karen Armstrong 2006

within...

i am a rock... i am an island...
and rocks feel no pain...and an island never cries...*

the truth of it all is there is one.. a truth...

an objective reality... a singularity... and it exists paradoxically and simultaneously and effortlessly in the last place you'd expect the perfect manifestation of it..

and therefore, to be truly free is also possible...

yes, we do live in a complex web of social order and acceptability... so to be truly free you must truly be alone.. where your actions have no reactions.. where there is no causality.. no hint of judgement... and that's only in one place...

your own mind..

there is only one person inside your head... know this.. your masques are not for you.. you know they're masques... that's the very nature of them.. they're for them.. all of them.. you know who you are.. in corners and dark lonely walks home you know what you want and how.. in wisps of fantasy you'll never articulate.. you know.. in deeds of freedom you try and express this... fleetingly...

yet there are also infinite possibilites to that existance... and that is the absolute marvel of it all...

within... where you are emperor and sinner.. where time and space collapses into a little pile of immaterialism.. where you are yourself and not...

within... where you can go a hundred places and through time.. where you can smell the fresh air of cities never visited and live lives never lived in times gone by and times yet to come and be heroes in epics never written... where all that separates babylon and bombay is a thought... where sounds are as real as real can be... where music is omnipresent... where anything is possible.. if god does truly exist she exists as your own consciousness... nothing more nothing less.

within... where there are no constraints or obstacles except those that you create.. where the most buried of emotions..and deeds can come to you anytime and consume you... where you can laugh and cry and care and not.. without reason or justification.. where justification is a myth and reason a slave of you..

within... they travel the most that travel inwards.. outward pleasure and pain and success and all these meaningless yardsticks are just that.. meaningless... fleeting glimpses of that which you already have within...

within... where you can be all people, just yourslef and your own personal deity... where there is nothing but you...

na deen hai na duniya na insaan na bhagvan sirf main.. sirf main...**

yet we go through our entire lives fighting this very concept.. we quote quantum theory and the idea that there is no individuality... that all else is only as it is because of everything else.. that enactment in its very nature makes you part of the whole.. we abhor individual genius and we tag miserable tags... we hail individual achievment yes.. but only within the context of a larger set... we despise those who are at peace with themselves and have abandoned the ego... those that have realised that the key is not to scale the highest mountain but build your own...

we seek chaos to define us.. we reach out for this sense of the butterfly effect and believe in this intermingling infinite web of connecting ether... we yearn to enact our part in this play... but we don't need to..

we go through our lives fighting this very instinct.. we use people.. situations and feelings and relationships, we grasp tightly onto associations and seek to be defined by being part of something larger, not one.. but two.. or three or seven billion... we try... to shield ourselves from this eventuality... this objective reality... this truth... and we fail miserably...

and we don't spend enough time on that which can save us.. in any situation.. instantly...

where all things must end.. where life begins and maybe... just maybe ends.. maybe...

within...

*cf: I Am A Rock, Simon & Garfunkel
**cf: Raju Swami in Vijay Anand's Guide

be life...

thag lenge, naina thag lenge...
jagte jadoo phookenge... neenden banjar kardenge...*

its been ages since i've blogged... really said anything left unsaid...

naina ko to dasne ka chaska laga re...
naina banwaran kardenge...*

theres a reason... its that i need severe emotional trauma to spew out my stream of consciousness dribble crutch aginst the reality of the pain which is... and i havent had any... since my life has been balanced by the last wanderer.. who i assume has stopped wandering.. ? no clue...

naino ki zuban par bharosa nahi aata... likhad pardat na raceed na khata
bin badal barsaen sawan... sawan bin barsatan...*

so i have come up with a new reason to write.. i wrote for myself.. i can only write for myself... but now ill write.. to myself.. oh the vainty.. the simple plain feel of the perfect pinot noir on your tongue... the smell of the night after the rains in the pine and cannibus laden hills of himachal... the first ray of fresh sunshine on a dreary cloudy day...

i watch from behind these cold hazel eyes.. an air of superiority.. undefined.. like a wisp of smoke.. in the air.. solid until you touch it.. it runs through your fingers like a dreamy snake, like water... it flows... away... i see scenes in front of me... i hear voices.. some old and long forgotten screaming to be heard again.. some new.. unfamiliar but with promises of the alluring freshness of a ripe peach... they speak to me.. all of them.. through the wonders of technology they pervade my space... they force themselves into my nonchalant existance.. claiming rights understood but never explicitly given...

words from songs.. that tug at the familiar.. the sense of who i am and where i come from.. swades...

philmon ke gaano main... koi to chal zid phadiye.. **

and the feeling is one of euphoria.. of an extasy.. not felt.. only experienced.. known.. wanting to be known...

the dhol... pounding in your brain.. talking of all before them who have played out this song.. far from home..

what do you hope to gain.. what speicfically do you want.. does it all come down to vain success or is there more to it.. look at her.. content in her hilly dream.. him.. with his dreams a reality.. all his dreams except the lonliness of being alone..

see them... and what do you think.. better.. worse.. doesnt matter.. not comparable.. different people different paths to nirvan.. each to his own.. bullshit...

pathar ke in ratson pe, phoolon ki ek chadaar hai...
jab se milen ho humko, badla hai har ek manzar hai...
kya mujhe pyar hai, asia khumar hai...***

is life a comparison.. who where how much... or is it more simple than that.. is it about feeling...

is life not but a series of experiences.. pain and joy.. thats it.. in its many guises in its many aliases.. in its many degrees and directions.. in its many forms and conduits.. pain and joy..
if so why be afraid of them.. they are enduring.. beyond all others.. beyond everything..

na deen hai na duniya na insaan na bhagvan.. sirf main.. sirf main..****

agony and ecstacy... the polar opposites on which this mortal existance of ours revolves.. spins.. uncontrollably..

do we accept this absolute calvanian view of inevtability.. isnt there somethign sacred..? something personal.. something.. mouldable by the self.. a reflection of who we are.. ours.. a legacy.. some thing to say that yes.. i am.. and i did.. and somewhere someone is affected..

or does it go deeper than that even... baser than even base.. underneath it alll... why the pain.. or the joy.. if its just a shuffling of the deck.. then.. why worry.. just be.. live..

drain.. and expereince.. and drain every experience.. take it in.. let it out.. be it.. be them all.. all the forms.. and shapes and conduits.. let them all come to you.. and from you.. and become you...

life...

the magical undefiend force that is beyond even experience.. even base.. life.. eternal and giving..

be life...

today.. and forever.. pledge to just be.. be... and all else will come and go and change.. you just be..

be....

*Niana, Ost - Omkara
**Chak De, Ost - Chak De
***Kya Mujhe Pyaar Hai, Ost - Woh Lamhe
****Guide, Vijay Anand

an eventful night...

as all good tales must be, this too is set in a mystical land.. a place called new york... one arrives into this cocophony of life and is at once unsettled and elated by the sheer magnitde of it all.. the scale.. larger than life.. the big apple...

the story though, unravles thus... a dinner... filet mignon and brooks pinot noir.. one seamingly made for the other... a leisurely meal.. nostagia and updates... time flies.. a quick cab ride.. horus.. mint green tea and sheesha... more stories.. some bitching and an introspection of who we are and how happy we are to be with who we are... more sheesha... more conversation.. flowing like the old.. accustomed... familiar...

back home.. hospitalty and lucidity... more endless conversations about agartala...

a sudden realisation.. some panic.. to distanced yet.. not real..

check.. re check.. re re check.. hope.. pain... futility... not there...

a few frantic phonecalls.. not there...

a few more.. not there...

that difficult call.. admiting.. self blame.. why me... not again...

helplessness.. tears.. pain.. futlity... absolute disgust...

rethinking.. going over it again and again.. dsecting.. redisecting.. conjecturing...

hoping against hope.. against santiy.. this is new york... no way anyones gonna turn it in...

still hope...

sleepless nights.. playing on repeat.. in superslow motion..

agony.. exhaustion... seven am... sleep...

eight am.. call to action...

nypd.. 17th precinct.. 26 federal plaza... 86th st... helter skelter..

one innocuous call... a message..

more calls.. high connections...

the consuate...

a call.. yes we do.. yes you can.. ill b right there..

smile.. breathe... exhale.. finally... run.. cab.. pay... feet tapping.. heart racing.. in my hands...

absolute relief...

never again... never...

dark chocolate mocha and a conversation... peace...

and through it all her constanct support.. unshakeable...

anahat arora lost his passort on 27th and park and found it next morning... a series of very unfortunate events...

life goes on...

five weeks....

as I sit today five weeks into what will undoubtedly be a career and maybe life defining two semesters at the hotel school at Cornell.. I cannot but help think that this may in fact be worth it.. the costs are staggering.. financial and emotional.. this frantic pace if globetrotting which began in singapore and which will culminate there many months from now... will undoubtedly lead me onto experiences i'd never imagined.. yet the journey may itself be as rewarding as the goal.. as many a wise men have said over the course of the eons..

one so often get caught up in the melle of it all that one forgets to enjoy the little moments of pure joy and sorrow.. what is life if not the justaxpositioning of the two basest of emotions...

swimming in the waterfalls and gorges of the six mile creek by my second day in.. catching my first of many wide mouthed bass.. discovering a discreet little tobacco shop that sells al-faker.. wearing the Cornell Hotel Society pin on your lapel.. driving on the wrong side of the road and realising it was indeed the right side no matter how loudly the decades of conditioning were screaming warning signals inside your head..

day trip to the over rated niagra falls.. discovering the iPhone in it's many incarnate wonders.. endless afternoons at college town bagels.. walking the proud and historically rich halls of the statler filled with a sense of pride and belonging... watching the sunset at nine in the evening and discovering bright sunshine and a pretty drizzle at six... the magical taste of ying ling hitting the palette.. the endless nights spent over excel solver and powerpoint... the thrill of winning and the numbing disappointment of defeat... the casual glances and the occasional unashamed racial slur...

being part of something so grand and so welcoming yet being completely isolated in the vastness of it all... being constantly connected via technology and the realisation of the desperate need to be so...

sitting alone and puffing your very being in clouds of sheesha smoke.. grasping the familiar so tight that it slips away... new accents new people new lives.. same me...

in just five weeks.. and there are another nineteen to come... what will they bring...?

magical fingertips...

I write this from my magical fingertips.. With no more excuses for spelling errors and typos.. With my new iPhone 3g.. apples new magical convergence device.. True it does have some bugs that need fixing.. But the simplicity with which you can use the clumsy touch key pad thanks to the built in algorithms is just fantastic.. Enough with clunky laptops and worrying about battery power.. This Is the future it's here today.. Kudos to Steve jobs and his team again.. Another social phenomenon in the making...

I sign off now into another sleepless Ithaca night.. And that is yet another story yet to be told of weather gods with a quirky sense of humour, new york state bar rules, bike rides into oblivion and spin fishing...

But for now.. I truly recommend this little gem to anyone considering it.. And to anyone waiting for it.. Stick to it.. It's more than well worth the wait.. I mean how do you compete with an app that delivers motion sensing light sabre sounds! Come on..

going home again...

another pile of goodbyes.. but this time... its not a little pile but infact a single large one. My suitcase reminds my flatmate of a pregnat woman. now that's something... how I managed to pack everything in it is a tale of wonder.. besides cursing it and zipping painstaking micron by micron I at one time did my best Space Odyssey imitation.. by jumping on the bag like an awakened ape... my Monolith was finally zipped up. The remains of my life scattered around the room.. Let me collect my life into a portable form. Two Suitcases and a Carry bag.. my life.

I'm leaving my super efficient little home for the last 7 odd weeks and heading home.. back to Rajma Chawal and traffic jams... bad driving and dirty air.. hehe.. yeah yeah and I'm so glad... a quick stopover at home.. before heading to Ithaca and another half year of scholarly pursuits... I long to be with the familiar again and it seems so strange that I'm already feeling sad for the little time I'll have... it's almost like I don't have time to be relieved...

But I am so glad for the Fort Palace trip... It'll give us much needed time to be alone.. that day will have to last a hundred and eighty more... It will have to, we must make it.. there's no option.

as I bid farewell to Nanyang Technological Univeristy and Ez-Link cards and OCBC bank.. I feel nothing. as always.. oh u cold cold man... I smile a mischevious smile.. oh well..!

to another dawn and another chapter.. but I'll be back here.. I'm not completely done with this place just yet...

Al Nasrin.. my new Oasis...

As I sit... on the corner of Arab and Baghdad Streets... staring at a white and green back lit which reads Al-Nasrin, with the smell of the all familiar molasses smoke filling me... I can say again I am in my new found Oasis... Pull... Al Fakheer mint... bliss...

though I tried to write this post earlier.. I felt I would not be doing it justice unless I wrote on location.. so here is my first on-location post... hopefully there will be many more to come...

the scene is set... a lot of plain metal and plastic chairs scattered about.. tables with little square floral patterned candle holders and a familiar camaraderie of sheesha patrons... in front the road with cars rolling by and on this occasion.. an old classic.. a yellow boxter convertible.. adds to the occasion... it flowing lines in sharp contrast to the delivery vans and working class air of this area... in the distance the golden dome of the Masjid Sultan and around you carpet sellers and more sheesha bars, and the broken down pavement under your feet, with so many of it's own stories to tell, no doubt. The air is filled with casual chatter which spills into the streets from all over, and surprisingly Lionel Richie... adding to the eclecticness of the whole setting...

as I sip my iced mint tea I am reminded of another eclectic oasis on a Colaba rooftop of a very shady hotel... and I wonder if my blog resembles a global sheesha backpackers guide... maybe so...

pull... release... I return to myself.. to here and now.. content in the knowledge that amongst even the most sanitized of nation states there is this little Oasis of revelry and old world Bohemia still thriving... refusing to be modernised...

as I am about to press publish... the magical sound of the Qur'an fills the air from the nearby mosque and Lionel Richie is turned off in respect...

In the name of Allah, the Gracious, the Merciful
All praise belongs to Allah, Lord of all the worlds,
The Gracious, the Merciful, Master of the Day of Judgment.
Thee alone do we worship and Thee alone do we implore for help.
Guide us in the right path
The path of those on whom Thou hast bestowed Thy blessings, those who have not incurred Thy displeasure, and those who have not gone astray*

*cf: Sura 1.1 to 1.6, The Holy Qu'ran

the hollow disconnect...

like a tunnel that you follow to a tunnel of its own
down to a hollow where the sun has never shone...*

outside it's raining.. as it always seems to here.. inside I sit alone.. immersed in my own thoughts... and realise the only word i can come up with to describe this feeling of helplessness is... hollow.. a deep echoing hollow... a hollow disconnect of being so far away.. of being in this unrealistic reality so different from the one you imagined you'd be in and fought to achieve for quite a while..

words that jangle in your head....*

it gnaws at you and makes you want to just close your eyes and drift off into a eye-clenched sense of nothingness less you break down... u grasp at the very sense of normality to keep yourself from being swept away in an untiring emotional swirl... you grasp at the thought of a thought.. a glimpse.. a verse... a ticker... of the familiar... an image... but its gone in a flash and try as you might it doesn't help..

when you knew that it was over,
were you suddenly aware...
that the autumn leaves were turning
to the colour of her hair*

you sit alone and type furiously.. hoping... even praying that you're making sense... sense of what you're feeling or afraid to feel... its a hollow sense of the fear... of the what if it all unravels and spills out.. which reality will you pick.. which reality will pick you.. the one you fight so hard to hold onto in a fragment of a dream and a sense of whats awaits you far away.. oh so far away.. or the reality that you live with every breath... the one that you fight so hard not to get immersed in..

and here I sit, hand on the telephone, hearing a voice I know, a couple of lightyears away**

to fill your moments of hollow terror with a sense of what can be is a very hard life to live my love.. make it easier...

*cf: Windmills of your Mind, Ost - The Thomas Crown Affair
**cf: Diamonds and Rust, Joan Baez