The Divine Fire

Not always do you find the time to read that book you wish listed. Even less so if you are preparing for IITJEE. But not if its written by Dr. APJ Abdul Kalam. Coming from the typical Indian middle class family, it becomes difficult to negotiate through the daunting challenges, especially psychological ones, to make your way through the struggles of daily life. The only row and rudder that remains sometimes, is a healthy dose of inspiration. That your dreams are as much, if not more worthwhile than anybody else's. That disappointments aren't there to stay. That means and ends run like the banks of a river. And that a good teacher can change your life for ever. This and much more. Finding a sensible thought resonating with your mind is like hitting an old friend in a crowd. That's what he said, as flipped through his autobiography.

Not many books or authors can make one feel like Wings of Fire did. It was a story more of love, compassion and hope than of struggle. It was probably the resounding force of truth in his words that made me try to imbibe a much as I could- not just me, but countless others. I believe it was much more than, as a review on its cover proclaimed, "worth its weight in gold". For what can be more valuable than igniting the hopes of the future citizens of the country, when all they get to know otherwise is cut-throat competition, scams, irresponsible governance, callous administration, corrupt politicians, uninspired teachers and students alike, and weaker familial and societal ties.

It becomes difficult to find inspiring teachers in the world that we have today. It is difficult and un-inspiring to see that most people around you are able and yet unwilling to give life all that they can- not just teachers and professors. Often, even when inspiration abounds, excellence is a rare feat in today's world of quick bucks and lesser ideals. And yet, the spark of hope has to be kept going. Dr. Kalam described vividly in his book the mentors and teachers who groomed, inspired and mentored him. He was extremely blessed to have been around the stalwarts of his time and age- nevertheless, he had worked hard to earn it. And he made sure through his tireless striving that he inspired many more, not just in his generation, but right till the youngest schoolkid of the current crop that he could reach out to. His thoughts were plain and innocent, preserved by divinity for a purpose that he devoted himself to. There were no frills in his message, nor intellectual verbosity. His were words of purpose that came from his heart and reached all hearts- the simplest and the most complex ones alike. His extensive tours to reach people, especially students of all ages and in all parts of India were a testimony to how much inspired a man can be, and how age is no barrier in reaching out to every countryman to raise his/her consciousness to the highest levels that he could. Indian mythology talks of Raktabeejasura- the evil demon whose every drop of blood falling on the ground led to the rise of another demon of equal might. The Devi finally defeats him. Dr. Kalam was an antithesis of Raktabeejasura in every sense of the word. Every drop of his sweat and blood was devoted to creating many more, I am sure, he would have wanted it so, even better than him- peaceful warriors. Such is the positive force of his thoughts. So powerful that even the end came while he was doing what he loved the most- interacting with students, being a teacher. The moving account of his co-author and advisor, Srijan Pal Singh, brings me closer to the picture of what an outstanding human being he has been.

A philosopher, Rudra veena player, scientist, lifelong student and inspiring teacher- he was what many of our generation aspire to be. His mention of his own Professor's "surgical knife" for engineering drawings, that made him strive for excellence in that area, largely made me fall in love with engineering drawings. He describes his first train journey outside south India as if it were a pilgrimage to get acquainted to the different colors and flavours of his motherland. It delights me to this day and I quietly chuckle to myself whenever I come across regions or people from regions far from where I was born. The unifying spirit that runs through, despite innumerable grounds of difference, between different corners of the country sends chills down my spine. I'm sure anyone who has ever known him, or his enthusiasm for the nation and its people will cut across all the "-isms" that divide us. Often complacency builds up inside me, as it did today, until I read the oath he made a little girl take during his visit to IIT Bombay Techfest earlier this year- "Small aim is a crime!"

And such was my enthusiasm when I had entered into the first year of engineering, courtesy Dr. Kalam, that I still cherish this page from the book of another subject that I loved. Here it goes.

Deepest love and respect to you sir. May we have more of your kind- teachers and students and professionals alike, and most importantly, human beings. This is my prayer and homage.

To Heaven and Back :) - on your marks!

The onset of Monsoon had been a Goan retreat for me- watching virgin beaches and forts, as well as the towns and villages (less talked about, but equally beautiful to get immersed into the natural beauty)- sans tourists and more importantly, sans the garbage. And an impromptu one at that- with wind in my hair and the sands at my feet! Life has been offering pleasant surprises of late, and I consider myself incredibly lucky for the wonderful ways in which they unfold- welcoming each one with open arms :)

No wonder, I feel like a pilgrim, and not a tourist when I travel. :) 

Every new place evokes a new untouched corner of my mind. And I feel closer to myself than before.

When the Goa sojourn ended, and I was about to return to Mumbai, waiting for the bus to leave, I began pinging people randomly. Just because I was feeling too good and happy, enjoying my own company as much as I had enjoyed the place- and wanted to share it. And when a former colleague of mine just remarked that he had a road trip to Leh-Ladakh planned  three weeks later with a group of enthusiastic amateur bikers, I just couldn't hold myself back. I immediately asked if I could join and the group luckily obliged. This had been on my mind for the last one year, but didn't expect it to happen anytime soon. It was on my bucket list, planned more like a graduation trip, one with close friends. Getting people you know take time out of their different schedules at the same time is a Herculean task, which, despite all its turn-offs has made me independent enough to venture out shopping/eating/travelling alone quite frequently. So, unwilling to let go of an opportunity, and regardless of the risks and apprehensions of a road trip in a strange land, with mostly strangers, I immediately booked my tickets for Delhi, where I would join them. And then, I started my jugaad for woolens and browsing blogs for dos and don'ts.

On 4th July, I reached Delhi in the morning and boarded the bus to Manali a few hours later. 5-6 hours after leaving Delhi, and traversing Haryana & Punjab, we entered Himachal Pradesh, the land of the Gods. My excitement was scaling up. I had read quite a few accounts of Acute Mountain Sickness of travellers in Ladakh, and had almost suffered one myself on a trek to Surya Top in Uttarkashi, a few years ago. But this time, I was just trying to keep myself as observant of myself as possible. I didn't want to skip witnessing even a single moment this time, come what may. And I had increased my pranayams and Surya Namaskars before the trip to do whatever I could in the remaining time, to make myself more adaptable, especially when it came to lung capacity.

When I woke up early in the morning, we were 3-4 hours from Manali. The monsoons had just hit HP it seemed. And my parents were sending me constant reminders of the unfavorable weather forecasts of HP for the next one week. In the narrow valley below, I could see the strong currents of the river Beas, clouded by mist, and nestled between mountains, which were covered with trees and at places close to human settlements, apple orchards. Wherever the road ran along the river, signboards cautioned people not to venture to the banks. The night was light a long dark tunnel, gate-keeping the sights and sounds of heaven. The sight of the magnificent Beas itself took my breath away. Everything that followed, I said to myself, would be a bonus!

When with nature, I go blank. Witnessing the Creator and Creation in all their glory and splendor is meditative. Who am I? Surely not important enough than the beauty around me. What is life? Surely not serious enough to remember right now. What is my purpose? Surely not being anywhere save this moment. Nothing is important, not even I. What else but here and now? 

Kullu is the district headquarters and Manali, 40-50 km further, is the focal point for tourists from all over the world, who then diverge into the different directions, Ladakh, Lahaul-Spiti/Spiti valley, and other famous as well as less trodden treks and drives to escape into the Himalayas for it can give them all they want of it. Adventure, thrill, respite & calm- more the merrier. We reached Manali at around 10 am on the morning of 5th July. The goal was to freshen up, buy/rent the remaining necessities of the trip, get the bikes and hit the road in 4-5 hours, which we did.

And meanwhile, in the din of the bike repair training by the mechanic, the wrapping and mounting of rucksacks on bikes, the verification of documents, the purchase of gum boots and medicines, and the discussion of the itinerary, I was trying hard to memorize the names of everybody else in the group.

Acclimatization!

When $#!t is IN

DISCLAIMER : This is NOT a movie review.

As a silly starting ritual, before you read the rest of this article, just imagine, how would you feel when you didn't have a word called "shit" to spew out your venom every time you are annoyed. You would feel like the shit is still inside you. Now, how disturbing it is, isn't it?

On a similar line, just imagine, if the real shit was there, inside you. Like Big B in Piku? Yes, just like that !

I hope I have set the right tone for the later part of this write up.

Shit! I must admit that I came to know the literal meaning of this word quite late in life-not until I was in the later years of my B. Tech. In school, all I could understand was that this was frequently used by my peers to vent out their frustration at anything that didn't go the way it was supposed to. I naively tried to look up the word in my Oxford pocket dictionary, which we were mandated to carry to school every day. Unfortunately, didn't find it there, and those days the world-wide-web was still not as wide as it currently is, so I turned a blind eye to the meaning of the word, re-assuring myself that anything that isn't Queen's English isn't quite worthy of my precious attention! Anyway, that didn't stop me from using the word, though not so liberally, to vent my spleen when in distress.

Shit jokes have always been super hit with kids, until they grow up to the next level. And to some extent, even with early college goers! I bet most of you might be going yuck with the thought of what I am going to discuss in this blog post. By the way, I just remembered that they never quite went out of vogue. Delhi Belly used it in the yuckiest manner again, and we laughed, even if we admonish our young school going cousins for cracking those. While return from my trekking trip from Uttarkashi, the entire gang was in a boisterous gaiety, thanks to shitloads of shitty jokes and situations created while going out in the dangerous terrain at 4 am in the morning, searching for safe bushes and trees, and avoiding dangerous slopes, equipped with a torch, a water bottle, a small axe ( I hope I'm not mistaken with the name, please do correct me if I'm wrong) to dig our own pits, and a paper soap (for those who bothered about hygiene) & tissue papers (for those too lazy to use water at the near-zero temperatures). Mind you, the torchlight was supposed to be switched off while you answered the nature's call, or else other people could reach your cozy little spot!

For me, however, the pressing issue is, however, the  changing shitting culture of our country. As if bringing knives & forks to the table with a plate of samosas or dosas wasn't enough, aping the west hasn't remain confined to our dining culture. It has invaded our loos as well, and at an unprecedented pace. I, for the record, never quite liked the western commode loos, no matter how conspicuous they might be. I always avoid western loos while traveling. Admittedly, the biggest pro that Indian loos had had for me for many years was that they are totally "no-touch" & hence, much more hygienic- on the top of it, the Indian/Chinese/Japanese squatting style toilets are easier to clean. So when too many people are using the same public toilet, there is lesser chance of contracting any infection. Another one, I got to know a few years back, is that squatting in the loo keeps the muscles of the lower body, thigh & calves in particular, very fit.

But, alas, we have begun growing ashamed as much about our dining traditions in public space, as about our defaecating traditions. Quite unlike the Chinese or the Japanese (here & here), who don't seem to blindly ape the relatively recent Western pooping tradition, that started only with the advent of indoor plumbing in the 19th century, we have adopted this flush-worthy technology with open arms, at the cost of our muscular & gastrointestinal health & well being. Every good hotel and every recently constructed home that I happen to visit now has a commode and not the squatting style Indian loo. You would be astonished to know that NOT SQUATTING to empty your bowels could not just cause you to gain some extra kilos around your waist, but also lead to hemorrhoids & diverticular disease, which are peculiar to those places & regions which have sitting toilets as the popular pooping mode. See this if you can't believe me. Sitting on the toilet actually keeps the muscle facilitating pooping tight, while squatting opens it up. The Pelvic Floor Clinic at Stanford University not only recommends squatting but mandates it for patients with colon-related issues & disorders.

Watch this amazing Stanford video to know the science & research behind squatting, which the Orient has followed since ages. No wonder we started suffering from lifestyle diseases only after the advent of Western style in our lives- be it food or poop!
Ironically, we have been adopting the toilet culture from the west where most people go to potty less frequently than daily (refer this)!!! OMG, a normal person will die of constipation!

Angrez chale gaye, commode chhod gaye!

As celebrity fitness trainer Rujuta Diwekar, who openly endorses squatting on toilets, tweets,- "Squatting on the toilet and not sitting, is better than 100 crunches in the gym for a flat stomach."

This issue had been on my mind for quite a long time and I had been thinking to write about it. It isn't inspired by Piku, but after Piku, I believe people would be more open to talk about the way they sit in their loos. My revered Art of Living teacher, Akhilesh Bhaiya says, emphasizing the importance of a properly functioning digestive & gastrointestinal system- " Agar Madhya Pradesh fit hai, toh Kashmir se Kanyakumari tak sab fit rehta hai ." 
Not having it fit can lead to constipation in the beginning- which is the mother of many disorders- not just physical, but mental. According to yoga, constipation cannot let your mind function properly and quietly. The vata or, crudely "gas" imbalance in the body keeps the mind extremely disturbed.

Its not for nothing that Irrfan Khan recommended Amitabh Bachchan squatting over sitting in Piku.
So next time you say SHIT, make sure no shit is left INside. Throw the shit (pun intended) out completely.

After all, MOTION SE HI EMOTION  :)

Once Upon A Time... and Now !

Once upon a time, there used  to be news bulletins anchored by the likes of Barkha Dutt, Rajdeep Sardesai and many more of their ilk, broadcast as 30-minute programmes by our national broadcaster or other entertainment channels. These were preceded and succeeded by the regular soaps, which hadn't turned into operas by that time, and nor had the news. I particularly remember Sardesai & Barkha because they used to inspire me. Nevertheless, I liked some other news readers too. Karan Thapar's Devil's Advocate was one of the most awaited shows in my home. And my father would call me to the television room from wherever in the home I was, whatever the task at my hand. It used to inspire me so much that I dreamed of becoming like those journalists, asking princes and paupers alike the questions regarding life, the universe and everything. Golden days!

Yes, it's that old and hence the "Once upon a time.." seems quite apt. But it isn't about the small black-and-white Onida TV of the early nineties, or the even older Weston television of my home where the entire neighbourhood  would gather on Sundays for the Ramayan, Mahabharat, Shri Krishna & Chandrakanta, or the numerous occasions for the cricket matches, new year special programmes on DD National and the eagerly awaited international beauty pageants. That was a time when everything  around me seemed more inspiring and less distracting.Two decades later, the same things and the same people that I drew my inspiration from, seem so different- so vulnerable, so human, and so much prone to err regardless of the fact that they might be affecting so many young, impressionable minds. Twenty years down the line, there are only different shades of gray all around to be seen- or so it may seem to the untrained eye. And that, precisely, is my point.

The change in my perspective can be reasonably attributed to my growing up at a time in history of mankind ( I am being very unabashedly generous to my generation here ;) ) which is going to be a remarkable phase in the maturing of India, and its people, and the world in general. 

But, the present times, with all the comfort of internet, facebook/whatsapp/twitter- the always abuzz social media and the 24x7 News and entertainment channels have made it easier for people to get distracted in the sea of information. It has it's pros as well- in the creation of a level playing field in numerous developmental aspects (despite the IIN being the butt of several jokes) and creating greater awareness about problems of different people in different parts of the world and how they might affect us. 

In this context, I am reminded of some contrasts- of how things used to be then, and how they are now. Writing has an immensely cathartic effect on me. So, I am writing down here some of the best contradictions that come to my mind-

1. Since Rahul Gandhi's return from a sabbatical (read Thailand) is fresh in public memory, I would like to begin this humble exercise with this upcoming, sorry, outgoing youth icon. Ten years ago, when Rahul Baba hadn't yet opened his mouth on anything concerning the welfare of the people of India, I have personally witnessed scores of girls drooling over him- many of them considering him as the most eligible bachelor in India. While that was a classic college-beauty-queen-ish  thing ten years ago ( and I must admit I too was about to go gaga over RaGa until I saw Jyotiraditya Scindia & Sachin Pilot in the papers, but that didn't last either), just imagine  a girl doing that now! I just can't stop laughing as I think of that- missing my WhatsApp smilies here !!! After all, where's the problem- he's all in for empowering women everywhere, frankly speaking!

2. From News to Newspapers- Sundays were always hotly contested days in my family- regarding who would grab the newspaper as soon as it was delivered- my grandfather, my father, my brother or me.  And whoever won the race between my brother & I, would share some of the pages with the other two contenders. We did that race thing for receiving telephone calls also. Anyway, getting back to the point, it was always such a delight browsing through Sunday Sentiments, With Malice Towards One and All, and Rude Food. I must say I loved HT in those days. Some of my friends were ToI fans, but I was religiously for HT, until  of course the day I switched to being a puritan Hindu follower. All of a sudden news in HT began looking so much pro Congress and anti BJP. I was drifting to the "Centre" stage of Indian politics. After years of religiously following The Hindu now, it again disappoints me in some ways when it gives me a pessimistic, gloomy & leftist view sometimes. Thankfully, I came across The Indian Express in the nick of time, and for the time being, I am happy being kept in the Centre by both Hindu & Express at different times. 

Earlier news was about knowing more about what's happening in the world outside. Now, its more about trying to ensure if the written word is actually true or cooked up to suit the needs of some business/media baron or some particular neta. Not getting trapped in the "Supari Journalism" of  #Presstitutes has become more important in keeping my feet grounded, as much as listening to all voices in the house. Phew! This will be really difficult for the next generation in the coming years.

3. Politics reminds me of the biggest five-yearly festivals which India celebrates, sometimes (un)desirably more frequently- Elections. Having grown up in Bihar in the 1990s reminds me of how dreadful and scary elections could be. News headlines of booth capturing, bogus voting, paid voting, violence and deaths would be the most conspicuous ones during the elections. People hardly cared to vote. There used to be a pall of disenchantment with the entire exercise in the middle class. And I was unable to grasp the minutiae of why even well educated and well-off people would vote on the basis of caste and religion. It gives me an immense amount of satisfaction to see that this has totally changed. The last two decades have seen a greater amount of transparency getting infused into the system- thanks to T N Seshan and his successors, and the transformation that they brought about into the system by staying within it. Seshan said in an interview that he didn't do anything that wasn't there in the rule books. He just implemented in letter and spirit whatever was there. I personally followed the Bihar Legislative Assembly elections in 2005 when Mr. K J Rao relentlessly and vigourously ensured that even the poorest, weakest sections felt empowered.

Bureaucrats aren't so bad after all. Some of them, quite possible, but not all. Change has been slow, sometimes the pace being excruciatingly painful- but the hope has been getting stronger with every passing day. 

सिंहासन खाली करो कि जनता आती है!

4. Why So Serious???.. Yes, the next thing that has undergone a sea change in our lives in the last 2 decades is the increase in humor in our daily lives. No doubt the Common Man and Hasya Kavi Sammelans are never out of fashion. But, memes for every occasion which make even my parents laugh at situations that caused them so much pain and trouble earlier is what makes me happy. My mom feels, and so do I, that we as individuals and to some extent, as a society have avoided so much misery just by being able to laugh at it. Thanks to countless memes and jokes on Alok Nath, Dekh Bhai/Behen, Bakchod Billi, Alia Bhatt and what not. Humor isn't as ivory-towerish as it used to be. It has become more democratic. Thanks to memes and AIB/TVF/... videos that infuse much needed common sense into not just the common man, but also the high & mighty. No wonder the world knows how engineers always "Rahulgandhied" their viva ;) 

5. Now this one is a bit painful to me. For a person like me who used to be religiously correct about English grammar, it has been an ordeal in the field Mechanical Engineering & manufacturing industry, where Just in Time becomes "GIT" (that was the biggest "epic" face-palm moment I ever witnessed) and "reverting back" is a norm. Ladies and gentlemen, you simply CAN'T "revert" "back". You either revert, or you're back. It's been excruciatingly painful again, I must say, when I mentally correct the English of almost every one around me, so much so that I feel even CAT & GRE can't test your English as perfectly as ICSE can.  Call me whatever you like, but nothing can be more attractive than perfect words for perfect occasions. And the advent of social media on the 

internet has worsened my woes. And I begin to hate myself if I make a mistake-though not as much as I used to when I was fresh out of school. But all ye churlish, dismal-dreaming bug-bears, I do desire we may be better strangers. 

Peace ye, fat guts! I was just kidding in the ICSE style ;). 

Wanna insult in my way? Here & here you go.

6. Ah well, now I would like to mention things that have really changed the personal space of our existence. Birthday wishes created such an excitement without facebook, so did the anniversaries & surprises. And how good I was at remembering birthdays and telephone numbers till I got a cellphone! Even in the era of selfies we feel like putting our eastman colour "kodak" moments as our display pics. Cartoons these days seem so dull and expressionless, almost akin to Katrina Kaif. And clean bolds are even more disgusting for a cricket-fan because of the electronic, red bails flying off the stumps. Narendra Modi seems to be the only old timer who seems to have had and is still having the best of both times- or rather, he is making the best use of modern tools and connect to get the best of both worlds. 

And what I despise the most- the sweet little diyas in Deepavali being replaced by the Chinese lights all over India. The earthen lamps have an incomparable charm- the day-long labour required to place them around the house after preparing the wicks and filling the oil. That apart, they are a source of livelihood to the potters. Remember history lessons? The advent of Britishers killed Indian arts & crafts & reduced the craftsmen and artists to destitution. 

Let us not blindly follow the new. Let's have the best of both worlds. 

Leaving you with a pic of how I celebrated my first Diwali when alone in Jamshedpur..

"Are you listening to me?"

"Are you listening to me?" He asked.

I nodded.

"Are you listening only to me?"

I nodded again. But something had changed. This was a different nod. There was a shift. And I wasn't the same person as before. Something had melted inside me. I had suddenly become so much alive with the awareness that I could notice every single thought that was crossing my mind. And I could just watch them flowing. It was probably for the first time in my life that I was just observing. Nothing else. And that it didn't matter what they were. And the very notion etched in my mind of the very well internalized thought "I am always right", which I was so sure of , just vanished in the air. I had finally found the person who had just dissolved it. It had become inconsequential. Despite the fact that I was always very sure of anything and everything that I could possibly put my hands on. I had finally met somebody who I thought knew more than me. And that knowing could never end. But did it end at that?

And with this experience, came an innate joy in the face of most uncertainties. Well, I am not perfect. Nobody is. But, over a period of time, I realized, that we don't really learn anything if we always keep holding on tightly to our own notions of everything. Because, we restrict ourselves to experiences that might be very limited to our own span of thoughts. And, as not all of us are intelligent enough to know, all thoughts are inconsequential. Had thoughts been the sole purpose of of our lives, all the women in the world would have been the Queen of England in the body of Miss Universe, and all men happy ;)

Jokes apart, there is something beyond thoughts.

Say, your yoga teacher told you to combine yoga with a vegetarian diet for a few days. And you didn't give it a chance. In that case, did you actually learn anything new out of it? No. You didn't. You basically went to the teacher with your own notions, and came back with the same- the value added thus being zero ! You didn't bother to challenge yourself to try it. And this is the sign of a closed mind- a mind that sticks to its own fixed sphere of thoughts and unwilling to experience anything new, even if it's harmless. This is how we restrict our growth as human beings.

Hell yeah, I do love yoga a lot and the example came naturally to me. 

But, on similar lines, the developments in the world around in the last few months have really shook me. I do realize that empty debates are futile until words are backed strongly by coherent and sensible actions on ground. But, closed mindedness, which may look seemingly harmless at the outset, can take ugly turns of epic proportions. In other words, it starts with "Holier than thou" and allied insecurities. It then turns parochial, killing a sense of belongingness between people. And it turns debates into a war of words rather than an exchange of ideas. Be it matters of faith, career, family, whatever. And what to say when those "holier" than others punish the latter with acts most inhuman- to say the least! The beheadings, the whippings, instances of burning innocent people alive, destroying entire cities, forcing women into sex slavery, killing innocent children- these can only be perpetrated by someone too savage to remember what being holy actually is. Darwin should have been alive to map these changes in the most evolved species, and where these will lead mankind to. Even animals are content with their needs and don't break into the boundaries of needs defined by the laws of Nature. Is it so difficult just to listen to others? Even when they are ready to listen & help?

And listening isn't  going to help just them. It is as much important for all of us.

How I wish these butchers could feel the same presence! One that would make them drop the myth of their holiness. 

I hope their God is listening. Or, to be correct, I hope they are listening to the(ir) God.

And, by the way, "He" is my Yes!+ teacher, Akhilesh (Parmanu) Bhaiya :),  the first Mechanical Engineer who restored my faith into the community of mechies :D.

I hope and pray all of us find a teacher like him. And I'll forever be grateful for having born in a country whose ethos is defined by these beautiful verses.

Akashat patitam toyam sagaram prati gacchati,
sarva deva namaskaram Keshavam prati gacchati"

"All the water fallen from the sky goes to the sea,
salutations to all the gods reaches to the KeSava"