Tag: postaday

No more post a day

I have not written anything here for the last two days, and got two inquiries about what happened to my post-a-day mission (Thanks Kailash; thanks Gaurav).  Frankly, I have left the mission.  I don’t want to go with it anymore.  It was an experimental tour to see if I should go with it for the year 2010; I have got the answer “No.”

I will write as frequently as possible, but I don’t want any obligations, and I in no way want to write on the stupid topics suggested by WordPress Dailypost.  So, for now, this is my last post in post-a-day.

And wait, I am coming back with new post just after this one.

Can I ever get out of towel?

This is not a post-a-day post.  I would write it even if I were not on a post-a-day mission.  This is why I had started this blog — The Blog of Reflections — to catch such of my moods, the times when I am lost somewhere, somewhere in or around me, or you, or don’t know where!

I should really take some classes on how to live life.  At this moment, I should have been singing Alvida Alvida loudly with Kailash Kher; I am instead scratching this post lowering the volume of my speakers.

Yesterday, as I was coming back from Reshimbag ground, a 30-something-year-old guy was arguing loudly with his companion on some stupid subject; it was all going in English (so uncommon on Indian streets).  They were apparently drunk, so steamed up, arguing with passionate hand movements, loud voices, a perfect drama.  I sat down on footpath and watched them fighting for long until some other guy came and took them away.  I got up and started walking back to home.

There was some van standing outside the bar.  They were offloading the wine packs from it.  Bottles of different shapes and sizes and colors.  People were coming in and out of the bar.  How lively they seemed!  I cannot even think of drinking, yaaack!  But then why don’t I look as happy as they d0?

Can I ever go out of towel?
Can I ever get out of towel?

I came on main street.  Some procession was going on, Durga immersion (don’t know how it came after Vijaya Dashmi)!  Really loud loudspeakers, heatingly fast drums, some bizarre steel-plate-like instruments making loud cymbal-like noise–mischievously tickling to the eardrums!  Everything so perfect to make you dance, move on the beats.  I stopped.  Watched the procession going, the drummers beating the drums synchronously, in high passion, all in sweats, dhan dhana dhan dhan, guys and girls dancing, playing fugadi–and me–I can’t even dance, not because I have two left legs, but because I don’t have the heart that one needs to dance.  For a moment, I felt I should go and just move, just move as bizarre as I can, that I should forget myself, forget the weight my soul needs to bear 24×7.  I didn’t do that.  I just reclined back to a car parked there and watched the dance with a calm that would suite only to an unrelated funeral.

I want to forget this stuff.  I want to forget what I am; in fact, I need to forget that I am, that I exist.  And just and enjoy the life, the breath going deep in my spastic lungs, the breath coming out of my nostrils.  I want to go out naked on the road when it is still dawn and feel the cool breeze tickling my senses.  I want to go out and sing loud without damn caring about what the next guy will think.  I want to go at some deep dark place and make a loud cry until I lose my sane.

Hmm, enough with impotent thinking–I know I can’t get out of towel even in the bathroom.

Thirteen years ago

I have a years’ long habit of keeping a diary. Baba gifted me my first diary at the commencement of my ninth grade. It was 1998.  I started writing diary on the Rakshabandhan day of 1998.

My first diary
My first diary

Back then, it used to be just a note of routine daily events. Those pages seem too much dry as I read them now, but they keep a record of those years that I would have forgotten in the fog otherwise. I was just 14 then.  An early teenager with lots of hopes and expectations from life, too much confident and still too much sensitive about his life.  A lot of things came ahead as the life unfurled.  I have almost stopped writing diary in the last few years; sometimes, it becomes too difficult to be honest with oneself.

In front of me is my first diary and I am reading the page for October 7, 1998, exactly 13 years ago. It was me, 13 years ago, a lot different from what I am today, but still a glimpse of it. It’s was written in Marathi, giving a smooth translation here for you:

7-11-98

Result of first-term exam declared today. Got 91.33%. But principal sir pointed out I got less marks in Social Sciences (124/150) that made my mood completely off. Went to temple in the evening. Studied. Watched Sri Lanka-Zimbabwe match. Gonna sleep now.

Thus a little simple page from my diary 13 years ago. Can you find me in it?

UPATE:  Sorry friends, I made an error here.  This page was from date November 7, 1998; not October 7! So, still one month to go for 13 years to complete.

Vijaya Dashmi of an iconoclast

Today is Vijaya Dashmi, one of the most important festivals of India.  It marks the victory of Rama over Ravana in the battle of Ramayana.  It is celebrated all over the India with burning the effigies of Ravana.  Huge 10-faced effigies are burnt in grand spectacular ceremonies.  It would be reasonable to go over some facts around this issue on this occasion.

Rama is considered as an avatar of Vishnu by millions of Hindus.  For them, Rama is not mere a character of some epic tale, but an incarnation of God.  He is referred to as Maryada Purushottam, i.e. the best limit of the man.  Ravana was a demon king of Lanka.

Ravana kidnapped Sita, the wife of Rama, and this provoked a war between Rama and Ravana.  This is a common consideration.  But what made Ravana to kidnap Sita?  Did he really kidnapped her only because he wanted to marry her?  Or because he just wanted to take animosity with Rama?  Was there some other reason?  Was the animosity started by Ravana alone?

We should not forget the story of Shurpanakha in this context.  Shurpanakha was a sister of Ravana.  She was widowed.  She saw Rama in the forest while the latter was in exile with his wife and brother Lakshmana.  Shurpanakha got attracted towards Rama and made him a direct proposal to marry her.  She was a demon lady, she was a widow, and her act was not totally against the customs then, but what Rama did with her was totally mischievous and something that we would never expect from a Maryada Purushottam.

Rama told her the truth that he cannot marry her as he is already married and is with his wife; but at the same time, he referred her to Lakshmana saying that he is young and handsome and is still unmarried (akrit daara अकॄतदारा was the exact word used by Rama in Walmiki Ramayana).  Rama certainly knew Lakshmana was married too, still he cunningly lied to Shurpanakha.  Even if we cannot justify her attitude towards Rama, we should not try to justify Rama’s behavior towards her too, especially when we call him the Maryada Purushottam.  Lakshmana too talks mischievously with Shurpanakha and finally cuts his nose with his sword.  Can his act be justified?  Shurpanakha was straightforward in her demand.  She had asked Rama directly about her wishes.  One would really expect Rama to make an honest rejection in such a case, but he played mischief and Lakshmana cut her nose.

In consequence, she went to her brothers complaining about these two brothers, and then unfolded the further story of Ramayana still the battle of Lanka and defeat of Ravana, that’s not a topic of our discussion today.

I just want to state that we should stop deifying Rama and should see him as a protagonist of a wonderful epic of India.  He even can be a superhero, but not a unquestionable God.  He was as good and bad as I am, as you are, at least not a Maryada Purushottam.

This elaboration may seem out of context, an act of infidelity to someone, but the cruel use of Rama’s deified image over the recent decades in India makes it necessary to be told to people.  Rama was a human being, if he ever existed.  If we chose to worship him, let it be for our good, for our spiritual exaltation rather than to create animosity between two communities.  In the present context, the cry of “Jay Shriram” reminds me of nothing but some crazy young people demolishing a mosque standing upon it, some sadhwi (female ascetic) dancing joyously in front of media after this demolition, common Hindus of Gujarat made insane with this deified image of Rama killing their own brothers in mobs, some Varun Gandhi making belligerent gestures on a public platform.

Hope the day would come when I won’t need to be an iconoclast anymore!

Day 3: Back from Ramtek

Yes, this is day 3 and I am still on.

Had a wonderful trip to Ramtek and nearby locations.  We (Kailash and I) reached Kachurwahi last night and headed to Ramtek early morning today.  We visited Khindsi Lake, Nagarjuna Vihara, Nagarjuna hill, Kalidas smarak, Ram Mandir, and then to a nearby fort at Nagardhan.  We didn’t in fact go in the Ramtek town, but visited all unusual locations in the periphery.  We clicked a lot of photos and had a lot of fun.  We could not go to Mansar excavation site because of time restrictions; let us see for the next time.

Nagarjuna Hill is a wonderful place and I had been to it a few years ago.  The great Buddhist philosopher Nagarjuna is said to have spent some time of his life here.  There is also a Buddhist vihara at the base of the hill.  There was a young guy from Japan who came here as a monk in search of peace.  It was too peaceful there, both in the Vihara and atop the Nagarjuna Hill.

Nagardhan, known as Nandivardhan in the medieval India, was a Capital city of the Vakataka dynasty.  The old capital has now remained only as a small village.  The fort is also left in too much negligence by the government.  It is a historical place, we should learn to know its importance.

The return journey was too much of a torture.  I was too tired and the road travel through Kamthi was Itwari was just sucking.  I had a vomiting just after reaching home, but now I’m fine.

Excited about my photos, but will need to do some basic photo-editing and sorting before I upload them, so keep an eye, I will be there soon 🙂  Give me a feedback, I love comments 🙂

Links: ** My Panoramio Page ** Kailasha’s Panoramio Page ** Ramtek on Panoramio

Day 2: I’m in hurry!

It’s only the second day of my 30-day post-a-day challenge, and I am in great hurry to find any time to blog, so I am just tucking in this post in five minutes.

It is a Sunday and still I had been in office all the day today.  I have just been back a while ago and getting ready to go on an one-day trip to Ramtek-Kachurwahi with Kailash.  We are going on a bike, so it’s better to reach our destination before it gets dark.  I will be back by tomorrow evening, so I will be here for tomorrow’s post with some great experiences and great shots from Ramtek for Panoramio.

So, grant me a leave for now, I will just be back in a while 🙂

Day 1: Post a Day October 2011 — A thirty-day challenge

So, here am I with the first post of my 30-day challenge for the month of October 2011.  The idea of posting everyday on a blog is really fascinating and it will be more so with continued support and motivation from all of you.

There are certainly some reservations.  Can it really be creative?  Won’t it just be writing for the sake of writing?  Won’t it be writing because I have the challenge to complete?  Yes, it will be, but writing something is better than not writing at all.  And I know, whatever I will write, I would always be kind of creative in some way or other.

Creativity is “to create”.  He who creates is a creative and not the one who just thinks.  Having some feelings and putting them down on the paper (or on screen) are two really different things.  One cannot be called creative unless he transforms his thinking in the form of creation.

I think I won’t fall short of ideas for at least this 30-day challenge.  I have a lot to tell you.  If I just wait for the form, the form would never come and whatever I am thinking will fade out.  So, before it fades out, I want to put in out in whatever form it takes.

Once a Prashant Vaidya (a Marathi ghazal writer from Kalyan) told me, “Ganesh, we won’t become a poet by just writing good poems for say three months or three years.  To be called a poet, you must give out good poetry for some 30 years. ”  Soon after that, I almost stopped writing poems.  My short poetic career did not even last for three years.  After a keen reading of classics, I had made my taste so special and had raised my bars so high that I could never reach them, and I never wrote again.  And then a lot of things happened and eventually the ideas stopped to occur to me.  Thus, I became a no-poet.

So now, without waiting for ideas or form, I am going to start writing.  And I know, as I will move ahead, I will get my form back.  I know what my form is; I will rediscover it.  I don’t mean that I will start writing poetry again, or stories or novel or some sort of book, but certainly I will start loving writing as it used to do.

So, this is for today, for the first of October 2011; and a whole month of excitement ahead.

P.S.  And I will have to learn to stop too, otherwise I will write a long, long posts for the first few days and will stop writing altogether after that.  So, stop, stop, stop… Enough for today.