Utopian Disorder

This is an incident that happened in my life some 2, or maybe 3, years back (Guess, I had just finished my studies).  I had written this incident as an e-mail to a friend of mine. Recently, I found this in my mail archives, and thought I'll save it on my blog as well, for whatever it is worth.

Just when I thought I was over you,
And just when I thought I could stand on my own,
baby, you came crashing through
And I can't live alone, without you...
--Air Supply

That 2 seconds glimpse of her had given me 2 lifetimes' worth of pleasure; and also along with it the pain that 2 seconds ocular moment had left behind was sufficient to equal the hurt and shame endured by Laloo after his recent state electoral debacle.

(via email)
There is an indefinable mysterious Power that pervades everything.
I feel It, though I do not see It.
It is this unseen Power which makes Itself felt and yet defies all proof,
because It is so unlike all that I perceive through my senses.
It transcends the senses....
That informing Power or Spirit is God....
For I can see that in the midst of death life persists, in the midst of untruth, truth persists, in the midst of darkness light persists.
Hence I gather that God is Life, Truth, Light. He is love.
He is supreme good.
But he is no God who merely satisfies the intellect
If He ever does.
God to be God must rule the heart and transform it.

~ Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi
(Young India, October 11, 1928)

Dharmakirti

When God made me, why did he then conspire
To make her beauty? If both had to be,
Why did he then make spring to wake desire?
Surely he made the spring to break
Men's hearts: but why then did he make
The mango blossom on the mango-tree?

A hundred times I learnt from my philosophy
To think no more of love, this vanity,
This dream, this source of all regret,
This emptiness.
But no philosophy can make my heart forget
Her loveliness.

If he had seen this dainty creature,
Golden as saffron in every feature,
How could a high creator bear
To part with anything so fair?
Suppose he shut his eyes? Oh, no:
How could he then have made her so?
--Which proves the universe was not created:
Buddhist philosophy is vindicated.

Though she's the girl, I am the one who's shy;
And though she walks with heavy hips, it's I
Who cannot mpve for heaviness; and she
Who is the woman: but the coward, me.
She is the one with high and swelling breast,
But I the one with weariness oppressed.
Clearly in her the causal factors lie,
But the effects in me I wonder why!

Acorn points out how careless and irresponsible the Daily Times of Pakistan gets when it comes to insinuating ' Indian atrocities in Kashmir'. The newspaper states that US state dept on human rights violation reported Indian army killing 733 civilians last year in counterinsurgency operations, which is absolutely wrong as Acorn points out here.



It is truly hard to understand how the paper could get the meaning & source of the article so wrong. It can be intentionally done to prove the Pakistan's long time claim that Indian army is killing innocent citizens in Kashmir in the name of counter-terrorism to show Pakistan in poor light to the world. But, this is absolutely puerile effort by the paper in smearing the Indian Army efforts who claims to be the strong proponent of people-to-people contact.

Atanu points to a letter written by one B Raman to Mr Bush. In this letter, Mr Raman tries to make aware of Bush the double-dealing of  General Musharaff with his fellow Americans.


Seeking justice from one mass-murderer for the genocide perpetrated by another! Or, are they justifying each other by killing people of each other Nationals?!

A very informative link that I came across while searching for India-US nuclear relationship: Its need and its advantages to either countries and its opposition by some sect of Indians and their basis in doing so. It seems we are in quite a jinx in having to handle the hugely increasing demands of oil and power  to support our booming economy, and on other hand we dont want to go against the superpower that is, the US, in trying to meet these demands. In this regard, the link says China, EU, Japan are in a very good position than compared to India, and hence they seem not to interfere in this deal between US and India. If we fail to sign a deal with US now, we've no other option but to seeek Russia's technology help once again (After the major Bhakra Nangal Dam project). This would imply that we might not get help from US in any other fields too, especially Health care and Education. For more news on this browse thru the site.

Life is not a fairy tale where the characters live happily ever after. Alienating Iran and collapse of the nuclear pact will push an energy deprived India into a strong alignment with Russia as it did in the past with the Soviet Union post-independence, when America foolishly refused to help in the construction of the Bhakra Nangal dam. Fortunately for America and unfortunately for India, China has no interest in forming the tripartite Russia, China, India axis suggested by a former Russian foreign minister and India's large Muslim minority and a neighboring radicalized hostile Pakistan and the rising Islamic extremism in West Asia does not leave India with other credible strategic alliances. It is nevertheless imperative for India to plan for alternative scenarios and not become either a pawn or be uncontrollably buffeted without choice, like Brownian movements by the impact of larger and weightier forces. In spite of all this it is crucial for India to emphasize and pursue the benefits of the nuclear pact but on its own terms and be prepared to walk away from the deal if its long-term consequences outweigh the short-term benefits. America on the other hand, is addicted to instant gratification as the history of the long litany of its economic and foreign policies attest to. I am pessimistic because both countries have poor political parties more interested in internecine quarrels with name calling, corrupt elected representatives susceptible to disguised bribes, ideologues blind to reason and pragmatic national interests, and ignorant, apathetic and economically stressed populations.[LINK]

Collected links and materials for this week:

Communists never go wrong: Freedom of speech by Indian communists.
---
Zakaria on the advantages that India can gain with N-pact with US. He makes his point quoting an analogy: what Nixon was to China is what Bush is to India. And, also points to Communist's opposition to this deal in his characteristic manner.
---

Nicely written argument against Arundhati Roy's tirade against Bush visiting India.
What Arundhati Roy is so disturbed about?

---
Roy argues that India is still poor no matter what has happened in our Foreign relations and economy in the last 15 years. Sandeep points out to this article by Zakaria where he argues that India's current political and economical reforms, and one especially by the current government headed by MMS, are in favor of Indian villagers. Indian Villagers not poor Indians.

---

Why stop only Bush? Why not Saudi king before who we paraded and agreed on strong defence ties?Why Saudi, which is a terrorist sponsor? asks Seriously Sandeep.

In a round-table interview with journalists of India and Pakistan, Bush was in his moronic best:

THE PRESIDENT: I do, particularly when they signed the IAEA safeguards, and they have a separation between their military and their civilian nuclear parts of their government.

Read more about his interview with detailed analysis here..

"There are four ways in which you can spend money. You can spend your own money on yourself. When you do that, why then you really watch out what you're doing, and you try to get the most for your money. Then you can spend your own money on somebody else. For example, I buy a birthday present for someone. Well, then I'm not so careful about the content of the present, but I'm very careful about the cost. Then, I can spend somebody else's money on myself. And if I spend somebody else's money on myself, then I'm sure going to have a good lunch! Finally, I can spend somebody else's money on somebody else. And if I spend somebody else's money on somebody else, I'm not concerned about how much it is, and I'm not concerned about what I get. And that's government."

Milton Friedman (quote here)

Here is a list of Ten Most Beautiful Physics Experiments ever.
And a link to the best blonde joke ever.

This story is about my painfully unforgettable incident that I underwent after eating a paan, a special and a dangerous kind of paan, at least for me now, called teen sou , which in Hindi means three hundred! PAAN is a ground mixture of betelnuts and other spices wrapped in betel leaves. I first wrote this in remembrance of this eventful day and to thank my friends who were with me then. I also wrote this in order to save this day from being lost from my heckled and stereotyped daily routine of ordinary everyday.

This happened after a dinner party with friends, when one friend, who had already tasted this paan and had undergone the bitter experience of being an amateur paan-eater of teen suo kind, ordered for paans. It was our regular routine to eat a 'masala paan' -- a benign type among variety of paans-- after meals. Since I knew about teen sou beforehand, my friend had secretively (find substitute word) ordered for teen sous with an intention to warn us at just about time when we were to put it in our mouth. But, unfortunately, I was late to hear him.


Then I ate a paan.... P A A N. "What is it? It burns my taste buds...it is burning my throat.... I am feeling dizzy, What it is?", I wailed. To this I hear from my friends from all directions, "Spit it, don't swallow the juice; Guess its late now; then, spit out everything". I scream back,"What was this? teen sou?". "No, just a paan with a tinge of extra tobacco", replied an experienced paan-eater friend of mine wisely. Wise, because he didn't wanted me to puke my anger all over him. He played carefully. But then my stomach began churning, my head began reeling under the toxic affect of paan juice. My head was spinning at such speed that I felt adding mass above my eyes just as it should according to Einstein's. Now, and before I knew, I was puking all over the street, with my head off royally. Few people on the street rocked back as if they had been hit by a Tsunami. I tried to hold it within as far as I could. But, I could only manage to puke as far away from me as I could. Actually, I didn't even had to manage anything. It just happened. I just did it.


Did I have anything to control here? My pride, my self-consciousness, my failing control over my body, or at least anything? Nothing. Fate's child. Once again, tragically. Once again, because I've a history that can now remain untold. I was loosing my self over the repercussions of eating teen sou, that was now showing its famous rage over my body and mind mercilessly. My head was facing the brunt of its rage and my eyes were closed shut tightly unbearable to look at the virgin experience of my life. I wanted not to see and embarrass myself by the way I was puking out my dignity, my self-pride, and also I didn't wanted to see that particular friend's face who was looking equally ashamed of his prank which had now lost control. His face wasn't typical of him. I tried not to further embarrass him, but I was incapable before the force of nature. The hammering inside my head continued; I was feeling inside-out. I felt like I'd puked out my entrails and that it was replaced by a vaccuum cleaner which was trying to suck my outside in. I was growing feeble, physically and mentally.


"Give me ur bike key", shouted someone at this point. I was being dragged over to the nearest abode to rest my ass. He took my bike ahead to clear the grounds for my grand overnight stay at his place. That they thought was the solution best. Then, I was helped to cross the next street. "Get aside", I stammered. I puked all over agian. This street was made my range of prowl too. Now, it was irresistible. I puked whenever my body demanded. It was the internal instinctive urge where I never decided. "I" refers to my thinking part of my body. But this time my body was thinking too. "I" had lost control. It was temporarily disconnected off my physical system. My body took over. I played the part the situation demanded unashamedly. I'd nothing to lose. Only my friends had too. And I feel sorry for them now.

It should have been mid-night by now. Late in every sense. They dragged me again towards the abode. I reached the gate. I was dizzy, still. I was whirring all over the road. Next moment I see myself sitting on gutter concrete and puking again in the adjacent gutter. My one more area of hunt. Friends had already lost interest in my lavishness as fear had occupied them. The fear in their heads was inevitable. Police patrol, relatives, strangers, and the devil- all gave them tremmors. Now they wanted everything to end abruptly. I was beginning to hope by this time. And I hoped the same too. But NO. I puked. They gave me a piece of lemon in my hand and asked me to taste its juice. To kill the puke sensations left over in my mouth. They gave me sugar to the same affect. I ate everything. But then again, I puked.

They dragged me inside now. They were worried and were getting over their nerves. I threw myself over the sheets. I was short of air. The puke had enervated me to last ounce of strength in me. They kept a mug beside my bed. Surely, they were unsure I'd stop coming out. RING RING. My mom had called me. It was late beyond her time of wait too. I was unable to talk because that had triggered more puke already before. But I'd to handle the phone. To tell her that I cannot come tonight home, because I forgot to see its late. I said something in this regard. The dizziness had blocked my RAM too. Mom discerned that something worrying has happpened. Was that obvious? Yes. She could not ask what. I could not answer that. I laid back.

I puked again like a habit. This time in the bathroom mug. They were watching helplessly, with fear in their eyes, with huge hopes in their hearts that everything will be alright by morning. They had lost their normal routine too. Courtesy my puke de jour. My head was spinning still. Only, maybe, it had changed direction spinning. It was 1230. They were chattering about the next steps to be taken, but their chattering seemed to me as the beatings of African drums around me. The drum sounds fell me into deep coma. I went noiseless and pukeless, and they retired for the day too, equally tired.

Good Morning. 6am. Time to leave. Thats it. I was on my way home. And my life continued as usual. Mom heard me out. She didn't judge me on that. I didn't let it happen, mostly. I didnt wanted to fail them. The previous night's performance hadn't left any effect on me, physically or mentally. I was smiling. Remembering what had happened I was laughing.

Friends thanks to have handled me. But, sorry, I couldn't handle my puke!

The importance of this night in my life is not only my incessant puking but also the the simple lessons we learned. And besides, the way we enjoyed the event afterwards remembering how things were handled and how silly each of us looked will keep this night in my memories forever. Yet, I never understood what memories are worth. Maybe life is worth only memories.

Go try teen sou (300). Helps you clean ur internals. I mean, absolutely. For a YOGIC experience, try it.

Cannot be Wrong!

"And the splendor of her hips can be measured
by how Śiva at last would lift them
to his lap and there, faultless, she would rest
where even the desires of other women cannot go.

A delicate line of young hair crossing
the knot of her skirt and entering her deep
navel  seemed a streak of dark light
from the blue gem centering her belt.

At her waist like an altar, curving and slender,
there were three gentle folds of the skin,
as if a woman in her youth could freshly grow
steps for the God of love to climb.

She with her eyes like dark waterlilies had full breasts
and they were of a light color, with black nipples,
and pressed so closely together not even
the fiber of a lotus could find space between them."

This is a poem by Kalidasa from his poetic composition Kumarasambhava.

Sonnet XVII


I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

Pablo Neruda

via Avinash Tadimalla:
There is a very interesting essay in mlagzine that describes how "The second most popular browser available today, Firefox, is a direct descendant of the Mosaic Netscape browser released in 1994".

A Poem by Max Ehrmann. This is another poem which has inspired me in ways that I can not put it in words. So here it goes.......

-- written by Max Ehrmann in the 1920s --
Not "Found in Old St. Paul's Church"! -- see below

Go placidly amid the noise and the haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.

As far as possible, without surrender,
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even to the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons;
they are vexatious to the spirit.

If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain or bitter,
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

Exercise caution in your business affairs,
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals,
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love,
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment,
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be.
And whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life,
keep peace in your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.