Chocolate, Mama and Kids...

Let me tell you a story of chocolates and mama and kids…

Mummy mummy can I have that chocolate? “Please mama…please”. The clever mom who knew it would create cavities said “No, there is no way, you can’t have it.” Now little did she know the child was inspired by Gandhi or at least couple of his principles…like fast unto death and non-alignment.

When Chandrasekhar Rao said he wanted Telangana, big mama Congress told “Beta, calm down when time comes and when you are grown up, we will think about it” so our beta kept quiet for a while, but threatened to take away the chocolates from the fridge…all of them.

And so one day the time came…our beta again demanded the chocolates…mama said “time not up!!!” Gandhian follower beta stated fasting unto death, “no chocolate-no other food” was his motto. Mama got worried…what if beta falls sick and loses health while she is still in charge of the house? And more than that what if his friends blame her, what if the neighbors blamed her??? What is the friends withdrew their support and admiration for Mama dear!!! “God…to hell with the chocolate, my son’s friends and family goodwill is more important to me than some chocolate. So here is the chocolate, go and enjoy…”
But mama didn’t know that it would still create cavities…left and right her sons and daughters started fasting for more and more chocolates…but poor mama was not willing to make more chocolates nor buy news ones for the sake of distributing…

Now the beta is unhappy that mama gave the chocolate not because she liked him, but because she liked his friends better and the other kids are unhappy that mama is partial, that she doesn’t like everyone equally…
My heart weeps out for poor mama...
My heart weeps put for the beta who was reaffirmed a fool…
My heart weeps out for the other kids who also like the taste of the chocolate…
My heart weeps out for myself…in the race for the chocolate I am in an identity crisis, did I study in Hyderabad or Telangana? Will the Biriyani be called Telangana Biriyani from now? Will the price of booze come down? Alas…mama I at least want the chocolate wrappers…

Do I look the part!

I have never felt the need for looking the part of something. I always believed what is inside you is what matters. Be it in the office, apart the fact that you've to look decent and in a work place I have never felt the need to look 'corporate'. I haven't felt the need to look like a professional or a anything for that matter. But all these are so negotiable. The maximum that can happen to me if I don't dress corporate for my office is a pink slip. Thats the worst case.

But have you ever felt the need to look a Hindu? Look a Muslim? Look a Christian?

For the first time in my life I felt the need. I am born to a Hindu Brahmin mother and a Latin Catholic Father. I have been baptized, Arun John, very much a Christian but brought up learning to accept all religions and cultures. I have gone to Temples, The Kumbh Mela, Churches, Gurudwaras and quite many places of worship in my so many years. But I've never felt the need to look a Hindu to enter a temple, a Christian to enter a Church. I don't know if there is something called the Hindu look.

Yesterday I went to a temple in Hyderabad, near my office to pray and see the Dussera festive nip in the air. I admit, by regular Indian standards I look more a Muslim than Human. I sport a goatee which is influenced by the rock culture. But this also in branding terms make me look a 'Muslim'. I have never felt a thousand eyes upon me scanning me top to bottom as if I am misfit, an intruder, an outsider. But yesterday when I went to the temple I felt that. I felt each and every one right from the security at the temple entrance to the priest performing the pooja inside the deity room looking at me with scanning eyes placing my religion. I am not a person who frequents a temple or church or any place of worship for that matter; but once in a while when I do I would like to pray properly, have a silent conversation with myself without the fear of being scrutinized.

Is Religion no longer a matter of faith?
Even if I am a terrorist who wants to blow up the entire place if my face is neatly shaved and I look Hindu enough I can go into the temple without the fear of frisking and scanning?
Is there a need for this generalization or branding of Religions?
Is Religion a matter of faith or of identity?

There are many more questions in my mind which isn't so refined to be put down on a blog. But the incident freaked me out. It depressed me to know that I don't have the freedom to look what I want and follow the faith I want. I am more a patriot or nationalist than them I believe. I am a more mature and accommodative person than the octogenarians of middle aged ladies and gentlemen I saw there I believe.

I hope that people someday go back to being accommodative. We Indians have had a very accommodative culture. Religion is a matter of faith and its an extremely personal choice. If not accepting everything, the least we can do it respect it and treat the person as a fellow being rather then branding the person this or that! I am now overcome with a terrible pathos and a feeling of despair around me seeing face to face certain facts I never thought would affect me....

Oh..its a mistake!!!

People excite me. In my 24 years of life, I had the fortune of meeting and talking and spending time with many a kind of people. From the many experiences I have had and still have on a daily basis, I have come to a conclusion of my own, people are most interested in pointing out others mistakes! Now, pointing out mistakes is good, but isn't accepting it dignity? Just like you would like to point out, shouldn't you also be ready to accept it, rather than being defensive?

An incident which happened yesterday is what gave me the extra jive to write this post. One of my friends who is also a blogger, received a comment on her latest post saying it is 'substandard' from an anonymous person. Now, receiving such a comment even from a known person is quite unusual, leave alone an unknown person. The anonymous person who said its substandard later clarified that s/he is an avid reader of my friend's blog and that her writing is 'precious' and enjoys reading her posts. This just opened a can of worms in my mind:

Is it so typical for human being to always find mistakes with somebody? How come the anonymous person never commented anything good on the blog I mentioned, in none of them? But unfailing commented 'substandard' in the one which s/he found not so interesting? Is this then criticism or plain beating around the bush to sound important? When do you pretend and in front of whom?What can you term by mistake? Is there actually something called right and wrong? If one person is right, does it mean the other person in wrong?

I personally don't believe in a phenomenon called right or wrong. Just because I am right doesn't mean the other person is wrong nor vice versa. I believe in respecting. I might not be able to accept certain things because I am an individual and I am unique in terms of my mental make up. But I have to respect and that I believe is what makes a man better. Whatever the action is the other person did, s/he has a reason behind it and I respect the reason...

Ego is the word! Everybody has one and he or she thinks the other one's is bigger!!!

My love, my everybody's love...

Every night I waited for you
My door never closed before you
But alas...for a week where have you been
Where did thou disappear...

Its the same blood that runs in our bodies
Its the same place we both liked
My arms miss your kisses...
Oh my dearest...

Is it the weed?
Is it the people around?
Is it the rains?
What prolongs your visit?

Upon the hills I searched
Down in the valleys I wailed
Like a bee looking for a flower
I searched for you night after night

Now I am not so much of a bitch
To let others upon me
Like a lover waiting his beloved
I shall wait for your itchy kiss...

Oh my dear mosquito...

Unnamed...

God

There are truths that I know of, but can’t practice.
There are reasons I know are logical, but can’t accept it.
There are trusts that are vanishing, of which I have no grip.
There are relationships which hurt, but I can’t let go of it.
There are actions that require no justification, but still I ask for one.
There is a rationale I can see, but can’t reason it
There is a correct I can feel, but can’t conform to it
There is a feeling in the air which I can’t name
And that is the center of my happiness now.

Hyderabad Central University

For everyone there is a place, a mentoring ground; from where you learned the most in life. Maybe the hard way, maybe through fun…maybe through a combination of both.

Back in 2007, when I entered the gates of this 2500 acre campus called Hyderabad Central University (HCU), little did I imagine that, that when I walk out of this gate I would be a changed man. Little did I fathom that walking out of that place is not as easy as you think it is. We form a bond with nature, with the many creatures of that place which for the most part are humans!

In between the long winding roads and lakes, walks and time spent with a couple of people, between those innumerable cups of chai and from those many many VC rocks parties…That place, HCU has taught me many a thing, and for the most part helped me reaffirm certain truths and realities I always brushed aside.
•Somebody who speaks good English is not the one who knows the most or the most knowledgeable of all.

•Night is that dark side of the day people so call to get some rest or to drink

•Intoxication is not a crime…its just a way of life

•Long walks are the best. They help calm and ease yourself.

•It is not what you wear that matters, nor is it how you wear. It is what you know. Now I smirk at corporate dressing. It is a bloody farce.

•It is ridiculous to spend 100 bucks on a coffee at one of those national or international coffee joints. And you should shop only when there is a discount sale in progress.

•Chai is a mass drink. It helps discussion and we almost all the time end up learning something new, be it music, movies, Foucalt, Adorno or sex.

•For every rascal god makes an angel.

•It taught me to have faith in myself. Only then can I have faith in others and the world.

•Last but not the least, the best of all…It taught me the art of thinking. It opened my ‘doors of perception’. The place gifted me some of the best people in my life. Helped me make some brilliant new ones and reaffirm and concrete the one I knew I before entering the place.

These are just some fragments of what you learn and get out of the place. Everyday HCU has something new in store for you and there lay the mystery and the beauty of the place.

I can’t say I have changed completely, but I…I am not the same old Arun John anymore. I owe a lot of what I am now to that geographic mystic space called HYDERABAD CENTRAL UNIVERSITY. Hail to thee…

My dear friend...

How I miss you my friend…

You’ve been there whenever I needed. I couldn’t have asked for a better protection than you…but still in spite of all this, In spite of being with me for more than a year…I lost you! I am shameful and depressed about it. I’ll miss you my pair of Aviators. The dark green shades you were.

I might be able to find or afford a better one in a few days time. I might be able to find one which even looks like you…but let me tell you this wherever you are my friend, I won’t love them as much as I loved you. I’ve seen the world through you and you’ve always been the perfect prism for it. You have helped me mask my emotions and my stares at various people. Thanks again.

I hope whoever is lucky enough to possess you next treats you with due respect and dignity. I know unless they are as blinded by love as much as I am they won’t be able to see through you. You were my very own custom made powered sunglasses…

I’ll miss you!

Its again the F word

A letter to familiarity

Oh Dear Familiarity thou art weird and unassuming.
The lack of it, you're branded a stranger...
The excess of it, you become a pain...
Is there something called a balanced familiar situation?
A some sort of politically correct familiar distance?

Oh familiarity...if you breed contempt, how on earth do marriages and relationships exist!!!
If thou says you could breed hatred then...how do human relations exist!

Ah...Thou art a wily wicked chap
Men or women don't delight me...but you do Familiarity
But let me warn you my friend...if someday I come across you,
I am going to strangle you by the throat and make you my slave
I am going to lock you in the dungeons

F for Freedom

When the Free Software Foundation tagline read “Free as in Freedom, not Free beer” it struck me for the creative genius which worked behind this. But now sitting at home which I had left three years back for my education and then my studies, I can very well understand the huge difference between the ‘free’ in free beer and freedom.

When I was a young boy of 8 and went to Junior school wearing shorts freedom meant writing with a pen, if possible a red ink or a green ink one since that is what teachers used, or swinging on the play ground or on the merry-go-round for as long as you wished. After that when graduated to senior school but still wearing shorts...playing as much as I liked, staying back for the second trip and coming back home an hour later than usual, having food from the canteen and not carrying it from home was freedom, at the pinnacle of it! It is quite amusing to notice how friends are everything for us, whatsoever it is for a certain period of time. For me it started by my matriculation and stretched into late degree years. Ah, freedom then was hanging out with them, going for movies with them, wasting money on insane pasta’s as one of my friends put it. Freedom also meant staying out late till night. There was a complete disregard for whatever parents said. Denial for everything else except friends was freedom.

Now to me, freedom doesn’t mean the old trivial yet great things during those times. Freedom is what makes a man. Freedom as in not hanging out with friends or not having beer and listening to Floyd on a terrace. Freedom to think, to act, to react. It is only when you have that freedom can you be a better individual. You become an individual when you start to live alone and when to start to think by yourself. I stayed alone in Hyderabad and I feel that has made me a better individual. The only time I had company was when my friend came over for dinner, that too for an hour or so at the max. I had the, if I can call it...the freedom to read what I wanted, to see what I liked, to eat what I liked, to wear what I wished, to speak to whom I liked, to invite home without consulting anyone else, to sleep when I pleased, to bathe when I willed and to go out at leisure. Now all these might be very trivial things...but for me, I believe I am a better individual because of all these factors. But... Freedom is dangerous too; it makes you responsible for yourself. I consider privileged for having my freedom though. Now when I am at home and I am denied certain parts of the above mentioned freedom’s I realise how much they meant to me.

Bono of U2 said “The theory of procrastination is thus- do not put off till tomorrow what you can for the day after, unless of course it is freedom”. I guess we can survive without anything, but not without freedom. Freedom of thought, of expression, of vision, of action, of reaction...
Freedom maketh a man.

Of the Kumbh and my country

If looked from above, from a high pedestal, you wouldn’t see six kilometres of the black road. But you’ll find a crowd, a huge multi coloured mass moving in one direction chanting names of Ram and Ganga Mayya. I consider myself lucky to have witnessed the largest mass gathering for a festival in the world- The Kumbh Mela
The Kumbh for me beheld no religious excitement and the prospect of bathing in the Ganges held no thrill. But witnessing the mass was. The main bathing ghat called Har ki Pauri where the Ganges is widest at Haridwar witnesses each year a cross section of the Indian population and foreigners too, only this year I was also part of that gathering. It was indeed quite wondrous for a city bred lad who considers himself modern in the purity of the word to see a chunk of the Indian society of which he is also a part of want to wash away their sins in the holy river which is the life blood of the Indian subcontinent.

Less that 3 days before the Maha Kumbh, I was in Delhi where globalisation and what not has taken its toll. We were put up in a small room which they claim is an International guest house for Rs 3000 a night for 4 people. Not more than 230 kilometres further north is Rishikesh where we had to stay for 2 nights since accommodation at Haridwar was almost impossible unless u wanted one of those fine river cooled banks. A room for 3 came for 600 bucks a night. It gave me hope. The people were much more friendly and simple unlike a metropolitan where selfishness was the order of the day. The average man who doesn’t have five star education and latest technological gadgets seemed much better individuals. On the flip side, they’re the most gullible people around and that explained the existence of so many godmen and fake swamis around the area.

I walked around the whole of Rishikesh and Haridwar with my friends who were new to North India, their excitement at seeing a new part of the country was infectious. Each place had a uniqueness, be it cuisine, people, landscape...I can’t put my finger on one and say, yes this is what I like the best. It is a mixture of various factors. We were in Dehradun at a waterfalls named Sahastrdhara. After having our fair share of fun in the icy water we came up and sat on a restaurant overlooking the waterfall having bread pakoda and chai...I couldn’t help think for a minute, what all could I experience if I could be there for a day more...but alas time was against me.

The great place, India my country is...It surprises me every day. I was having a small chai-samosa chat with one of my ex teachers a couple of days ago. She was telling me that she wants to travel abroad, at which instance I narrated my experience of this recent trip. Her reply to why she doesn’t want to travel much in India was quite amusing... “At my age I can’t travel in India, there is so much to see...if I want to see at least one state, I need to spend at least a month there and then start to unravel the place. Whereas if I go to some foreign country like Singapore or Maldives, it is all over in a weeks’ time. I would’ve finished seeing the country in a short span” This is the expanse of the country we live in. My mission now is to see my country in all its beauty and mystifying glamour before I even venture out to see other places.

I am not a patriot only when there is a cricket match or a hockey tournament. I have always regarded my patriotism as something born out of the physical beauty and the glamour the country holds. One walk from the Rashtrapati Bhavan to the India Gate, was enough for me to salute the great nation I live in.

So true are our text books. As a child I also grew up reading the drab text books saying, India is a multi lingual, multi ethnic, multi...what not country. But to truly understand it and be part of a huge culture, you need to feel it, experience it, be with the people, talk their language, have their food, their drinks and dance and sing with them...thank god my journey has just started...