gloomy day

The "Little" Tower of Babel - Pieter BRUEGEL, the Elder

It was just too cold to work today. Not that its too cold outside, it’s the stupid AC. Anyhow…that is my excuse to procrastinate today. Started with web galleries and ended up reading about stuff in the Wiki. Guess everybody has a thing and mine happens to be written words. Anyhow…in between stories in the Wiki, I visited a couple of web galleries. I got kinda hooked to this one. Seems like a lot is going on in these paintings…like there are clues and they all tell a story. Didn’t really get what they all meant…but still…liked them somehow. Just wanted to bookmark the link here.

Heroes

“So much struggle for meaning, for purpose…and in the end we only find it in each other…our shared experience of the fantastic…and the mundane…the simple human need to find a kindred, to connect…and to know in our hearts that we are not alone.”

~ Heroes, season 1, episode 23.

The show is a lot like the other freak shows on TV. Its got all the soapy stuff going on…gets on the nerves at times. But it sure says a truth or two that we need to hear. Definitely better than Supernatural. Liked the way they ended season one.

a good day's work

This is what I've been upto at work all day today -

Monomyth
Jason

And oh yes, this too - Supernatural TV Soundtrack. Lousy show but they sure play good music.

Didn't come to work yesterday. I wanted to, honest to God. Cann't really come if you wake up and find its 3:20 in the afternoon. Can you? I have got to get my act together one of these days.

My hero

That’s Samurai Jack, my new hero. He is an old fashioned one. The type that can do no wrong. We could use more like him these days.

Jack is a lone warrior trapped in a futuristic world ruled by the evil, shape shifting monster named Aku, fighting a seemingly lost cause. But however desparate the situation may be, Jack never forgets his code – the honor code of the Samurai. Forever humble, polite and honest he makes his way through the horrid, alien landscpae, never giving his personal welbeing a second thought. He is constantly going out of his way to help others, risking his neck even for the ones who’ve done him wrong, never asking for anything in return. He endures everything – all the trechery, cruely, brute force, fear and madness thrown on his way. He brushes them all off and continues his journey. And in doing so, he brings back hope in the minds of the millions who till now, had taken the all the wrongs for granted.

The mad world shown in the cartoon is not alien at all, its exactly like the one we live in today. The people in it are just as mad, just as miserable and just as hopeless as the mindless robots in the cartoon. Just that in our world, we don’t always recognize the faces of the shape shifting monster that’s running the show and the unsung heroes who are giving their lives fighting the good battle.

We desperately need heroes like Jack…even if just in cartoons and story books.

See the whole picture

Confession

Forgive me shower for I have been dirty. It has been nearly a week since my last visit. But you must know it wasn’t entirely my fault; I did call on you a couple of times but you were unavailable.

Please don’t get me wrong; I don’t blame you. With the tornado out on a killing spree and the blackout you could only do so much. I know you are trying your best. Besides, you came around soon enough with your generous blessing of running water and there is really no excuse for not seeing you sooner. Please forgive me. You know how easily I get tempted, develop the habit, what can I say,…keeping up the routine seems such a great deal of work…you know.

I am sorry I will stop with the lame excuses. Truth is, I would probably not come and see you even tonight if it weren’t for those damned kids. Yes, I could have easily gone through another day, in those rags, smelling that bad. (Yeah, I know, I am such a pig!) But it was not to be. Imran came and dragged us out into playground to play badminton. Its been a very long time since I played the game you know…(ok, so I wasn’t any good when I played it…big deal!). So the kids kind of caught us off balance you see…(and not like they were really kids…one looked pretty big…I’m sure he is at least 13!)

Anyhow…so they gave us a pretty good beating. But, they really didn’t have to be so mean about it, you know…I mean, I wouldn’t mind if they just made us run around the court from end to end chasing after the damned cork (slippery bastard!)…I could take that, but did they really have to make us roll on the ground like that? I mean, it was one of my best jeans and now it’s got mud all over it, and your friend the good Mr. Washing Machine will have a rough time working on it.

And it’s all their fault! Those damned 12 year olds!

booby trap

“Say, cats and dogs really like it when you scratch their neck. Don’t they?”
“So does cows.”
“Yeah? What about goats?”
“I don’t know about goats.”
“So how are you so sure about cows?”
“You know, when you try to milk them, they’d make a fuss, but if you give her a neck scratch she’d stand still. So I figure they like it.”
“So, cows are touchy when people try to touch their breasts, eh? How about that!”
“Well, of course they are. People are not her bull.”
“But bulls don’t really care about breasts. Do they? Say, none of the animals really care about breasts. It’s a man thing! Isn’t it?”

“Hmm…”
“Well….but why?”
“Well…I dunno…they look good…”
“Yeah! But why?”
“Well…they feel good”
“I know! But why??”
“Heck! I don’t care! If it bothers you so much go find a flat chested chick and marry her.”
“I never said they bother me. I like ‘em too. But why?”
“Who the hell cares?”
“What are you saying man! If we stopped asking ‘why’ we’d still be living in caves you know. Nope! We’ve got to figure this out.”
“Well…may be it’s because you can…you know…fondle them”
“Huh?”
“You know…they are soft and you can with them and all.”
“Nope! That doesn’t make sense. Fat people are soft all over. If grabbing was the thing then everybody would be running after the fat chicks.”
“Well…I just dunno…”

We discussed the issue a li’l more over coffee but weren’t able to come to a satisfactory conclusion. So we decided to take it up with Proton, the cleverest one in the family. He heard us out and the first thing he says to me – “Tell me now, what exactly did you guys see on the way that made you think about it? Paint me a picture. Will ya?” (Told you he is clever.)

Anyway, he went on about how animals look for fitness, physical symmetry and proportions in potential mates but the issue wasn’t really resolved. (Surely, we can hardly call voluptuous women the most fit, or the most proportionate and still, they do have a universal appeal.) I guess I will just put it on my list of unsolved mysterious -

Why does the chicken cross the road?
Which came first, the egg or the hen?
How does a pair of round things drive a sane man mad so easily?

gotta post something

[Sidr made its way from the coasts to the capital killing about two thousand people on its way. The whole country blckedout during the weekends. I wrote this in candle light,…not because I had something good to write about or something that mattered. Been writing all sorts of messed things lately. Pages fter pages of crap that just wont come together. Still, I just have to put this one down or it feels my head will explode.]

What do you think of poetry? Why is it that poetry, in general, is considered impractical? People say that they discard all logic and sense and just aren’t real enough. Poets are seen as outcasts, a damaged lot trying to escape the realities of life and seeking refuge in make belief. As for the stuff they write, well,…they do score a few points every now and then within certain circles and drunken society parties but that’s as far as they are supposed to go.

I guess its not entirely their fault. ‘Poets’ do seem rather eager to assert their eccentricity. They will take great pains to get the walk, the talk, the dress and the hair right. (Now it’d be pretty awful if they are taken for commonors. Woudn’t it?) They are a delicate sort, unlike the rest and it has to show. Guess, poets are people too; they gotta eat, shit and procreate like the rest of ‘em. So, its quite natural that there will be many who’d just want to put on the uniform, strike up a few lines, wrap ‘em all nice in glossy plastic and try to sell them for more than they are worth, while they still can.

Been reading the Memoirs of Pablo Neruda –

“All the esoteric philosophy of the Oriental countries, when confronted with real life, turned out to be a by-product of the anxiety, neurosis, confusion, and opportunism of the West; that is, of the crisis in the guiding principles of capitalism. In the India of those years there was little room for deep contemplation of one’s navel. ‘An existence that made brutal physical demands, a colonial position based on the most cold-blooded degradation, thousands dying every year of cholera, smallpox, fever, and hunger, a feudal society thrown into chaos by India’s immense population and industrial poverty, stamped such great ferocity on life that all semblance of mysticism disappeared.”

“…the majority exploited a cheap market where exotic amulets and fetishes wrapped in metaphysical sales talk were sold wholesale. These people were always spouting Dharma and Yoga. They reveled in religious acrobatics, all empty show and high sounding words.” [p 84]

“…Became familiar with opium…”
“…I smoked many pipefuls, until I knew…”
“…I understood why hired hands from plantations, day laborers, richshowmen who pull and pull rickshaw all day long, would lay there dazed, motionless. . . Opium was not, as painted to me, the paradise of the exotic, but an escape for the exploited…” [p 88]

- These words reflect the clarity of thoughts of a great mind, a sound mind that isn’t deceived by the smoke screens of half truths and lies.

Poetry is not about dwelling in madness and spitting out empty words that nobody gets. Even after a hundred years, every word on Tagore’s poems makes perfect sense. True ones can keep it real; they don’t bank on confusion.

There is no real conflict between poetry and facts, there never was. In fact, if one pays attention, they just might help him understand the numbers better. May be one day we’ll finally figure it and then the advancement of science will not be driven by the arms race anymore.

In any case, I wouldn’t worry too much. Poetry will survive amidst all the madness and chaos…It is the one thing that can. Poetry will keep the truth alive if the great cities go up in flames and smokes blacken the skies. Poetry will be the beacon, lighting the way for the children rising from the ashes of the dead worlds,..will tell them stories…of what it once was, and what it could be…again…

Aye! Mankind will live on…and so shall its poetry. For every human child is born with it, and secretly carries it in his heart.

More

Thanks a lot Tanm. Loved it!

to Nowal and Syed

It's a Wonderful Life (1946)

Nowal keeps on complaining that my blog is too depressing. Well…I’d like to take this opportunity to dedicate this movie (yeah! I know I did not produce/direct it, BIG DEAL!) to Nowal and Syed, (popularly known as her better 0.5).

Hope the two of them will cuddle up into a couch one of these days, watch the damn movie and use up a year’s supply of tissue paper. :-)

Rumble Fish

Rumble Fish (1983)

Father: Every now and then, a person comes along, has a different view of the world than does the usual person. It doesn't make them crazy. I mean... an acute perception, man... that doesn't, that doesn't make you crazy.

Rusty James: Could you talk normal?

Father: However sometimes... it can drive you crazy, acute perception.

Rusty James:I wish you'd talk normal 'cause I don't understand half the garbage you're saying. You know? You know what I mean?

Father: No, your mother... is not crazy. And neither, contrary to popular belief, is your brother crazy. He's merely miscast in a play. He was born in the wrong era, on the wrong side of the river... with the ability to be able to do anything that he wants to do and findin' nothin' that he wants to do. I mean nothing.

---

Patterson the Cop: What's the big interest in the pet store all of a sudden?

Mr. Dobson: They've been hanging around here.

The Motorcycle Boy: Take a look at the fish.

Patterson the Cop: You're crazy. You're really crazy. And, you know, I've known all about it all along.

The Motorcycle Boy: But they belong in the river.
[guesturing at the fish]

The Motorcycle Boy: I don't think they would fight if they were in the river. If they had room to live.

Patterson the Cop: Someone ought to get you off the streets.

The Motorcycle Boy: Somebody ought to put the fish in the river.
[starts chuckling to himself]

Lost in Introduction

My life has been like the poems (?) that I write, -
“Lost in Introduction”
(and a long and tiresome at that)
dwelling back and forth aimlessly
between obligatory emptiness and superfluous ‘eloquence’,
never getting down to that one true line
that’d write the rest of the story
in impeccable words,
meaningful, real words,
words that you can touch
and let touch you back.

Mediocrity is such a curse.

The story is never told.
The book ends with the prologue.
The song ends with the intro.
Love ends with no promise.

The journey ends with the thought, the ship never sails,
The day ends at dawn, on the bed of nails.
The story loops in circles with the same vague conclusion –
“Almost.”

true love

[good thing I wrote this on a toilet paper. Wasn’t a total loss. For what its worth, I meant every word.]

You ask me if I’ve ever seen it
- love of a true kind,
The kind we all read about,
but could never really find.
I tell you I haven’t seen it.
But wouldn’t mind if I do.
Call me crazy but I’ve got a feeling,
You wouldn’t mind much too.

You say that it don’t exist.
You say it cannot be.
But all the time you long for it,
And you want it all for free.
You keep on taking as it comes.
Then you take some more,
And when you are asked to give a li'l,
You’ll believe in it no more.

           Aint nobody gonna clip my wings
           Aint nobody gonna take my space
           Aint nobody gonna slow me down
           Aint nobody gonna cost me a race.

Then you’d bitch about how they all done you wrong,
and love walked out the door.

You want it to be ‘perfect’, - ‘Perfect’ as in easy.
Like things’d just happen right, life will just be breezy.
You want to cash in on the divine lottery one time
and bank on it for life.
Ridiculous. Don’t you think?

Here’s a thought -

Nature may give you crops
but a farmer's still gotta work the fields.
Eyes may show you the colors
but the artist must toil to bring ‘em together on a masterpiece
The mind may know a million words
but you gotta put in a pice of you soul to weave a good poem.
What makes you think love will be cheaper?

If only you’d open your heart
as easily as you spread your thighs…

777

For quite a few years now, I’ve been feeling that I’m getting dumber; the brain is slowing down with each passing month and its taking longer to do math, all sorts of math. The other night I was thinking the same thing and since I wasn’t feeling up to doing anything else, decided to work the head a little by trying a few multiplications in the head. Did just one – 5333 by 13. Took me about 3 minutes but I got it correct. Guess doing it on paper would have taken less time. Anyhow, I was happy just to be able to do it.

I thought about the stupid Number 23 movie and started doing all sorts of funny calculations with my name, date of birth and stuff about people I know or used to know. Instead of 23, I started seeing 777 everywhere and got kinda carried away. I saw it even in places it didn’t need to be and tried to figure out how it related to other things around it and all – that’s how obsessed I became with the silly thing. It wasn’t until 5 in the morning that I realized that I was dead tired, had to wake up in two hours and had a long day ahead of me.

Damn! I need a life!

Man Down!

Anjan was devastated when Proton got hitched. The idea of a younger one getting ahead was just too much for him. He was practically begging the senior citizens (a.k.a family elders) to end his miseries ASAP since then. Well…he’s finally got his wish.

We drove down to the village on Friday morning to attend his ‘engagement’. Once we got there we figured we might as well make it a full-fledged wedding. I for one was all for it. Even if it was a bit hasty, it didn’t turn out to be such a bad show in the end.

On our way

Almost there

Abid agreed to shave

The girls are ready

The boys aren't

The last smoke

Tensed. Isn't he?

Errmm…guess its too late to turn back?

The ‘blushing’ groom

The lovely bride

For better or for worse

With the ‘senior citizens’

The shopping list

But its all right

“So how many times do you think they had…‘coffee’ last night? ;)”

“Hey, how about some coffee?”

Cute li’l bugger! Aint he?

Bloopers

1. “Damn this toothpaste tastes funny!...The label looks familier…something is wrong though…what is it?...Oh! Got it! Its shaving cream!”

2. “Hey, wake up! We’re leaving.”
“Oh hey…did I fall asleep again? Okay lets go.”
“Don’t forget to say good bye to the new bride”
“Of course I wont! Okay…hey there! We’re going. Wish you two the best! Come visit when you have time, etc. etc….heck…something is not right here…oh yeah! She isn’t this one. It’s the one next to her. Oh well…I have to go. Byee!”
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The Rosicrucian Enlightenment

I have finally finished reading the book. I don’t think I can describe what I took from it. Instead, I’ll just quote some bits from the last chapter.

“Like archeologists digging down through layers, we have found under the superficial history of the early seventeenth century, just before the outbreak of the Thirty Years War, a whole culture, a whole civilization, lost to view.” (p. 290)

“The Rosicrucian Enlightenment included a vision of the necessity for a reform of society, particularly of education, for a third reformation of religion, embracing all sides of man’s activity – and saw this as a necessary accompaniment of the new science. Rosicrucian thinkers were aware of the dangers of the new science, of its diabolical as well as angelic possibilities, and they saw that its arrival should be accompanied by a general reformation of the whole wide world.” (p. 290)

“The Rosicrucian alchemy expresses both the scientific outlook, penetrating into new worlds of discovery, and also an attitude of religious expectation, of penetrating into new fields of religious experiences.” (p. 284)

“The religious outlook bound up with the idea that penetration has been made into higher angelic spheres is which all religions were seen as one” (p. 282)

“And this illumination shines inwards as well as outward; it is an inward spiritual illumination revealing to men new possibilities in himself, teaching him to understand his own dignity and worth and the part he is called upon to play in the divine scheme.” (p. 291)

“Those who seek above all a regeneration of spiritual life are naturally drawn towards the doctrines which lay the main stress on the idea of life and propose a vitalistic conception of the universe. And the symbolism of alchemy is as apt for translating (into symbolic form) the realities of the religious life, as that of matter and form. Perhaps more apt, because less used up, less intellectualized, more symbolic through its very nature.” (A. Koyrè, La philophie de Jacob Boehme, Paris, 1929, p. 45)”

           “Teach me, my God and King,
           In all things thee to see;
And what I do in anything
           To do it as for thee!

           A man that looks on glass,
           On it may stay his eye
Or if he pleaseth, through it pass,
           And then the heaven espy.

           All may of thee partake;
           Nothing can be so mean,
Which with this tincture, ‘for thy sake’.
           Will not grow bright and clean.

           A servant with this clause
           Makes drudgery divine;
Who sweeps a room, as for thy laws,
           Makes that and the action fine

           This is the famous stone
           That turneth all to gold;
For that which God doth tough and own
           Cannot for less be told.

So sang George Herbert of his Christian religious experiences, and it was such spiritual gold as this that the German Rosicrucian movement sought.” (p. 283, 284)

“Circumstances prevented its application, and after the Rosicrucian, science was allowed to develop in isolation from utopia, and apart from the idea of a reformed society, educated to receive it. The comparative disregard if the social and educational possibilities of the movement was surely unfortunate for the future.” (p. 292)

lovelessness

"What hath put the present Age into so great confusion is the cruel hatred, and spiteful envie which in these days in seen to reign generally amongst men. All help then for these present evils, is to be hoped for from infusing Charity, reciprocal affection, and that sanctified love of our neighbor, which is God’s chiefest commandment, into mankind; we out therefore to employ all our skill in taking away the occasions of those hatreds, which in these days reign in men’s hearts."

This is extracted from Traiano Boccalini’s allegorical satire Ragguagli di Parnaso, published in Venice in 1612-13, in The Rosicrucian Enlightenment by Frances A. Yates. (Does that somehow remind you of the Bobby Kennedy's speech on Mindless Menace Of Violence?)

Apollo, the archer-god of medicine and healing, light and truth, found the world in a terrible state, and decided to seek the council of wise men to remedy the situation. It was evident that a ‘deep general reformation’ was necessary and the council discussed the subject at length. A lot of proposals were put forth but all, in the end, were considered impractical. As time passed, the council got distracted with trivialities and finally, the idea of general reformation was given up altogether and things remained “as wretched as ever”.

All attempts at reformation failed because they “had produced only rigorous regulations and had not tackled the deep issues”. According to Solon, the wisest of men, “what was mainly wrong with the age was lovelessness.”

Pity. May be the world we live in now wouldn’t be as messed up if the ancient Gods and wise folks could come up with something then. Well…I guess we’ll have to deal with it now, at this age. Who knows, may be there is time to leave behind a different kind of myth for the kids of the future? May be one in which we do fix things up? Time will tell.

Affirm Life

"There is life here. anyone reading this is breathing, maybe hurting, but breathing for sure. and if there is any light to come, it will shine from the eyes of those who look for peace and justice after the rubble and rhetoric are cleared and the phoenix has risen.

Affirm life.
Affirm life.
We got to carry each other now.
You are either with life, or against it.
Affirm life."

I wanted to show Abid, my bro, the videos I found today. My bro doesn’t care much about poetry but he stayed up till 4 am in the morning downloading all the Suheir Hammad videos he could. (We got a shitty line at home, not as fast as the one I got at work.) And we watched them over and over and over again. We are still watching them. I know I linked this one just 2 posts back, but I just wanted it to keep it on top here, on full view. The shift to Dave’s stand up comedy down there was probably too hasty.

Dave Chappelle

This is probably going to be a little too fast a mode change from the last one but heck, its all good. =D

Suheir Hammad

I LOVE HER!

Found her at Shakia's Spot. There are more videos on her page.

Links -
A Poetic Justice
Suheir Hammad's Official Website