Thursday, June 29, 2006

This Is Me

I love the evening sky
With its vibrant colors
I love the colors on sky
Captured on my little canvas
I enjoy their fly
From a lump of liquid on the pallet
To form features on a piece of paper
I admire the complexity of an art
But I am not an artist.

I am happy when the flowers smile
Between the green leaves
Thanking me for nurturing,
Nursing and for caring
I love the wet mud on my hand
Water which feeds the roots
I appreciate the beauty of my garden
But I am not a Gardener.

Visiting places, I like
Not getting attached to any one.
I love to trod on a path unknown
Admiring and appreciating every sight.
Mountains, river & deep dark forests
Or the oceans with enormous mystery within
I wish to see them all
But I am not a traveler.

I have a patient pair of ears
For words of joy and sorrow
I am a silent viewer
Of everything good or bad
People wish to talk away their sadness
As I listen to them with compassion.
With humor and fun in play
To drive away the emptiness
Understanding human nature is an interest
Yet I am not a healer.

I love to capture the moments
As a picture that lasts for ever
Man along with nature
As they compliment each other.
I want them all in a flash –
Silence, sound, crowd, stillness,
Quietness, emptiness, togetherness and confusion
Yes, I want them all in a picture
But I am not a photographer.

I wish to write about it all
How I felt that early morning,
Breeze that brought happiness
An explosion that turned silent
The unspoken words and expressions
Confusions of the mind, beauty of the nature
Or warmth of a woolen sweater
All needs to be written
But I am not a poet or a writer.

Plenty of things to know,
Countless of work to be done
Enormous of moments of joy to be lived
From millions of pleasant tasks
Many opportunities as a boon
Available for me to try
How can I confine myself to one?

Like wind that sees no restriction,
Like water that cuts its way through any obstacle
I wish to be part of everything
Yet not belonging to any.

Monday, June 26, 2006

Oakdalu Bimba

Yesterday I watched a Kannada Play called Oakdalu Bimba. Translated as “A Heap of Broken Images”. I am a frequent visitor to Rangashankar, a Theater in Bangalore. I have truly enjoyed all the plays that I have seen there till date. I normally go there at 10:30 in the morning to buy the tickets for the show (Which is always at 7:30 in evening) in advance.

I was all excited about this play as It is Girish Karnad’s latest play. When I went there in the morning, I noticed that there was a discussion about the play going on. I thought of sneaking in and have a look at what the group of people where discussing and debating about. On the stage, I saw, Girish Karnad the Playwright, Arundati Nag, the actress and two more people whom I did not recognize. (Probably, the Co-Director and Actress in English Version of the same play.)

The room was filled with acclaimed writers, actors, directors and thinkers along with common audience like me. They where discussing about the good and bad things about the play and I noticed that the playwright was recording their comments and even mentioned that he would make the changes if necessary as this play is still in its infantry stage.

People had weird comments. All started by praising the play, direction and acting but ended up with weird comments. One felt that there was split personality involved in the character; other thought that the acting was excellent; another said she did not appreciate the production as an overall and would have expected a better stage setting. So this room was filled with opinions and suggestions for the play. Not much made sense to me as I had not watched the play yet but I sat there and enjoyed it. Some felt that the writer had not done justice to the story; he had not presented his opinion in certain situations but has just explained it, as one would always know. Mr Karnad, silently heard all the comments, he was not in the intention of defending himself. A few words he spoke was something I could easily relate to. He said –

“Even an author might not completely understand his work. And I am not here to defend myself because If I explain my thought process, then that would be the final word and would not provoke any thoughts in you. Because it’s a general perception that the author’s words and his thoughts are the truth and should be accepted as it is without further debate.”

This was an excellent piece of thought. Similarly, people would have related to some moments in the play and would want that small point to be elaborated and justified where as that same might be a negligible thought for someone else. Hence this dissatisfaction and comment on the piece of art, I thought.

After staying there for a while and gaining lot of inputs before watching the play, I returned back home anxious about watching it, in the evening.

At 7:30 PM the play began. The stage setting was of an audition room of some television channel. Many televisions where placed on a rack behind and a big screen stood at the right hand side of the stage. On the left hand side was a table and a chair. Arundati Nag steps into the room and I was surprised to know that this was a mono act.

Manjula nayak is a Kannada novelist and she has just received international fame for her first English Novel. She walks in with an attitude; a proud look on her face, a made up face rather, slightly arrogant at times; criticising the Indian technology and bragging about her trips to America, London and Canada. After all that, she delivers her speech; talks about the novel, her inspiration and support from the family members. When the speech is done and she has to leave, she finds out that the doors are locked and the relay on the Television next to her has not changed, Her image is still on it but not her reflection, A women looking exactly like her and actually talking to her. After a few moments of confusion and explanations, one is clear that it’s her inner consciousness that in form the image on the television is trying to question her act, her outer made up face. And slowly the two converse and we are put open to the inner world of Manjula Nayak, and her life filled with pain, frustration, jealousy, betrayal and agony. Slowly and interestingly the moods and acts of her, during various important situations in her life is unraveled before us; A made up face and behind it a completely different image.

Picture from the net

The play is truly appreciable. Every human can relate to the character. And no matter what, our inner consciousness will always remind us of the mistakes we have done; wrong decisions we have taken. Arundati Nag is flawless in her performance.

After the play, I ran to the book store, bought a book on collected plays by Girish Karnad and took his autograph. Only last week I had seen his play- “Hayavadna” truly a master piece. I told him that I enjoyed the play a lot.

Another interesting thing about the evening was that I saw my favorite Kannada actress Aarathi . I wanted to speak to her and tell her that I enjoyed watching her movies and acting, especially- Ranganyaki and Shubamangala, but sadly could not do so. She disappeared soon after the play.

All together it was a great day.

Friday, June 23, 2006

Weird Things!

I have been tagged by Harsha to write something weird about myself. After giving it a real hard try, here are some of the weird things that I do or have done at some time.

I love the smell of a newly bought shoe.

Sometimes when I can not sleep in the night, I walk for about an hour or two to strain my body. One night, I walked around my room for 1.5 hours post midnight.

In the middle of the night, I wake up to make sure that the doors are properly locked. Without a verification, I cannot go back to sleep.

If I like something I need it by any cost, no matter how long I have to wait for it. Here are some examples-

I wanted a book which the publishers had stopped making anymore. So I requested the publishers and cajoled them to publish at least one copy for me. And hey, they did it!

Just yesterday evening, I went to Titan Showroom for buying Fasttrack glasses similar to the one that my friend had. I had been to the showroom before but did not exactly recall how the glasses looked, so I asked my friend (Who now is in the US) to send me the pictures of the glasses, and then went to the showroom to only find that it was not in the display area. Looking at my anxiety to find the same pair of glasses, the sales person brought the catalogue. We went through the book and finally found the required model. She assured me that there was a piece lying somewhere and that she had to search for it. Can you believe? She searched for half an hour (Or was it more?), every single cupboard, every single corner of the showroom but had no luck. Finally she wanted to try the newly arrived boxes, which had been just delivered a couple of minutes ago. Hurrey! There she comes with my glasses. But the best part about the whole thing was that the girl was really kind to me, and there was no sign of irritation or frustration on her face. It looked as though she wanted to find the pair of glasses, as much as I needed them. I thanked her and walked out of the showroom happily. 

And I also have a habit of buying all those things that I desired as a child or during my teenage, but could not get at that time.

In the US, I along with my friends and an American couple had been to a restaurant. I was terribly hungry. And if I am hungry, I act really weird. I had ordered a glass of water for myself. So there it was a glass of water and a slice of lemon on it. I was terribly tempted to make Lemon juice out of it. So I squeezed the lemon into the water and then started adding sugar, emptying one packet after another. Sugars we normally get there in the restaurants are less sweeter than what we find here, so I kept on adding them in spite of everyone warning me that the sugar would not dissolve in the cold water. But I had to try it, dint I? For God knows what reason. So I ended up with all the sugar packets on the table emptied into the glass, settling at the bottom. “And here comes the food.” I said to divert everyone’s attention away from me!

Well I am sure there are more weird things I do but found only some of these.

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Complete Satisfaction

Few days before my sister's wedding, I along with my mother and two sisters had been to a shop for buying some sarees for them. Standing in a corner, disinterested in the whole thing happening around me, my eyes caught hold of a couple entering the shop. The lady seemed overwhelmed with extreme happiness and a look of excitement gleamed through her eyes.

Soon, I was completely detached from my surroundings and began to observe the lady who was full of enthusiasm, which provoked curiosity in me. They went near a salesman and he displayed few sarees for her. Those sarees were of least possible rate, hardly costing a few hundreds, the kind of sarees that my mother used to wear at home long ago. On the other hand my mother and my sister's range were not below a few thousands.

The lady’s face filled with a blend of joy and confusion to choose among the colorful sarees displayed just for her. She looked at the sarees and then turned to her husband and smiled as if she was asking him for his choice.

My sister broke my concentration to ask me how I felt about the saree that she was holding in her hands. I nodded quickly without giving much attention to her.

The shopkeeper on other hand was keen to help us rather than any other customers, as he knew that we would profit him in thousands and the profit gained by the poor couple would go unnoticed. He left no chance to explain us, why each saree was better than the other and tried to convince my mother and sisters.

Meanwhile, the lady had selected a saree and the salesman began to pack it for her. Her lips curved with a broad smile for her husband. In her smile, I could see happiness, gratitude and love for her husband.

She walked away with an expression of complete satisfaction on her face, which I had never experienced before or seen on anyone else’s face. She disappeared from the sight with a gift whose cost was negligible to us. On the other hand the ladies from my house walk out disappointed about not finding a good saree of their taste and in turn leaving a sad expression on the shopkeeper’s face.

It was only a matter of ten minutes from that day but the bit of thought that I gained from it shall remain with me for a lifetime. I knew by then that any gift shall be the most valuable one, if it is given and more importantly received with true love, care and joy; the cost never matters.

Friday, June 16, 2006

A Quote That Changed My Life

Few years ago, when I was a student, I enjoyed reading the quotes that where painted on a piece of wood that hung exactly above the black board of every class room in our college. One day, I read this quote in one of the rooms –

“Try to get what you like or you shall be forced to like what you get.”

When I read this, all my thoughts ceased for a moment. That whole day, I could not stop thinking about it and relating it to my life. More the words repeated in my mind, very clearly I realized that I have not been living a life that I want to. Every decision in my life was mostly made by someone else and I accepted it without hesitation, even though my interests where not anywhere close.

Later that night I made a decision that I shall restructure my life in a way that I want to see it. I shall try to achieve all my dreams and desires. Suddenly, something that previously looked impossible now found a faint ray of hope. A new perspective towards life and my dreams emerged from somewhere deep within me.

The transformation was not instantaneous though. Even today, every time when I make a decision, I know that behind the conscious mind, I am repeating the same quote over and over again.

I used this piece of information in my own way, as I always do. I convinced myself that the decisions I make today are only based on my dreams and desires of today. We humans are constantly growing with age and as I have previously said, maturity is to do what you believe in; something that you think is right at that particular age to which you belong. So I do know that there may be chances that tomorrow I might not agree with a decision made today. So there has to be a clear understanding that no matter what my future has to say, I will stand by the dreams and desires of today and fulfill all of them without any hesitation and never regret for any decisions made; they are what I wanted at that particular time of my life.

Yet I also believe that every quote is not true at all times. Being a human, bonded by relationships and responsibilities, I do know that sometimes, I will have to sacrifice certain wishes. 

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Droplets of Joy

Mangalore is popular for its heavy rainfall. But for some reason, there is not much rain this year. But while I was there, it showered for some time and with the tiny drops of water came back some sweet memories of childhood, which probably had been hiding somewhere behind the deep dark clouds that had traveled across the globe for so many years. Too much imagination, I guess.

We used to have our summer vacations during May and June. This is the time when it rains heavily in Mangalore, of course it continues further till July. My favorite game during this time was to make boats out of paper and let it sail in the water channels provided between the paddy fields. These channels connect many fields and is used to divert excess water from rainfall to a well or a lake. My neighbors Samsu and Sidiq would join me in this play and we competed to see whose boat would travel faster and reach the finishing line first. As the boat made its way along the stream, we followed to protect it from getting stuck between the weeds. Colorful flags represented our individual spirits and identity.

Hot teas and some rainy season special snacks were a treat during the evenings. Special snacks that my mother prepared, like – Jackfruit chips, Papad’s made of Jackfruit and Potato or onion pakoda’s. Sipping on the tea, with the hot onion pakoda tasting remarkably good in my mouth, relaxing in the sit out of our house, watching the rain drops play with the leaves and the mud; wow what a prefect way to spend a holiday.

Another fun game that Samsu, Sidiq and I played was to catch fishes. No, it’s nothing like going to the riverside or a lake and catching fish with a string or a net. But it was our own innovative way to catch fishes in the same channels that ran around the field. There were plenty of small fishes in it and we would place a trap. The Trap was a bath towel immersed in the water. As soon as the fishes swim above it...Zap…the towel came up and fishes were transferred to a small bowl of water. These fishes went into our well as they purified the water in it. We had to carefully let the fishes down into the well with a rope tied to the bowl because throwing the fishes from that great height would only kill it.

As I grew up, my relationship with the rain also changed, previously it was just playing around and getting wet and drenched. But now, I admired the beauty that it brought. Lying on my bed, watching outside the window, I saw the leaves flutter with joy as the tiny drops from the sky showered on them. The smell of the wet mud from the first rain still haunts me and my mind longs for a break from everything I am doing at that moment. These were also the best times to write my poems and stories.

There are times when I have hated the same rain. It had ruined so many parties or a plan to go for shopping or a movie. Sometimes it rains continuously for two to three days which is really boring unless you are on a vacation were you just want to relax at home. And of course the excess rainfall is always a poison to the sprouting seeds and the new saplings that I had planted in my garden. I would bring the pots inside or if the plants were in my garden, they had to be covered with something to be protected from heavy rainfall.

But again the greenery around, the liveliness around makes one forget these disadvantages and lets us flow along with it, into the depths of nature, in its different, magnificent shades of green; Smell of the wet mud, Water droplets playing on a leaf. Beauty of life needs to be experienced in these small things and not just in the days when you turned lucky or had a party with friends.

The unseen beauty of nature are many, the eyes to appreciate them and feel them needs to be opened.

Monday, June 12, 2006

To The Lighthouse

I had been to Surathkal last weekend. Surathkal, my hometown is about 16 kms from Mangalore while traveling towards Udupi.

Vasanth and I have been friends since the age of 5; from first grade. While, I have moved to Bangalore for job, Vasanth is happily settled there and is teaching English and Social Science at a popular school near Udupi. When I go to Surathkal, I make it a point to meet Vasanth. A walk to the beach, remembering good old days of fun when we were kids, is now like a ritual being followed strictly.

And we always try to do something exciting every time we meet. This time we thought of checking out the newly opened Café coffee day near Surathkal. If there was something new happening in and around Mangalore, we had to check it out. So we went hunting for the place. After some directions from the people near MRPL factory, we finally reached the café. First thing we both wondered was – “Why the hell do they have a coffee day at this remote place?” There were no colleges near by, neither is it a big city with such craze, but still the café stood there completely empty. Vasanth and I stepped in and the café owner was very delighted. We were probably the first customer he has had since he opened it. 

We had Choc chino and a Veg puff. It tasted good. And the price was considerably low, targeting the locals.

Yesterday evening we planned to go to the Lighthouse, at the beach near our house. It was great to climb up the lighthouse and watch a spectacular view of the Arabian Sea and the adjacent green land  without any tall buildings to steal the show. It was almost 10 years later that I was returning back here. It was sometime during the tenth standard holidays that my friend Som (Sowmya) & Vasanth had visited home. And we had made a trip to the lighthouse that evening.

From the shore, when we watch ships sailing, it appears as though they are at the end of the sea. But from this height one could sea water beyond the sailing ships. It’s nice to observe that our perception changes when we look at things from greater heights; So vast is this creation, So much to be explored still. I had previously felt the same, during my hike to the top of Pikes Peak Mountain in Colorado Springs, USA and have written thus -

“When we are at the summit, and have to look down at everything else, we definitely feel at the top of the world.”

Lighthouse at Suratkal

It was nice to closely observe the lens used to accomplish the concentration of light and the drive that enables the lens bed to revolve. During my previous visit as a child, I never cared to look at them. But things change as we grow up and we start appreciating various things in a different way.

We then moved to our Private beach. To avoid crowd at the beach near the temple, we normally take a short cut near our house which leads us to a fairly less crowded beach and I have named it my private beach. 

It’s a great feeling to silently observe the sunset and the fading colors on the sky, near the sea shore. It was a magnificent display of light there, yesterday. Sun disappeared behind the clouds few hours before the sunset and the magnificent rays of light that emerged from behind the clouds were truly mesmerizing. I wished that I had taken my camera along with me, but anyway nothing can bring back that moment, that feeling, not even a photograph. It’s just a feeling that can be felt at that very moment.

It was a lovely weekend.

Thursday, June 08, 2006


Here is one of my poems. "Change" is a poem in which I made a very simple effort to explain that no problem, no issue is permanent and we have to move on, no matter what life has to give us.


Far away in a hamlet she lived,
Sitting under an old tree's shade,
Looking at her beautiful creation,
Fruits & flowers adding to the decoration.
Smile on her face as she sits,
Waiting for any possible blitz,
She recalls her days of struggle,
Sweat & pain with snuggle.
So had she kept it for years,
Untouched & beautiful it appears.
Never wanting the scene to change,
All misplaces she would arrange.

One day the wind turned storm,
Shattered her garden, without inform.
Cried she, with tender tears,
Loosing all that she nurtured for years.
Days followed the running out hours,
There she stood between new flowers,
"Change is the essence of life", she sang,
Burning the ashes of the previous bang.


Monday, June 05, 2006

Ajey Says

I am no philosopher but I do love to write quotes. Because I believe that maturity is doing what you think is right at that particular age, in which you belong. So here are some thoughts from me –

Ajey Says -

It is possible to hate life but not to like death.

Reason to live is none when respect for oneself is lost.

Human nature is the only answer for hiding truth.

Every night, under the sky of selfhood, the gown uncovers the soul.

Smile is a power to win hearts.

Attraction becomes friendship; friendship changes to love; love to possessiveness; possessiveness, an obsession; obsession turns to pain; pain to hatred and all this, a memory for lifetime. So think!

Do not have an opinion about everything.