Jaipur

Well I remember I've said I'll not post a rant. But this is an article I've promised many people. So here goes. 

Well it all started with our move to Jaipur in August the year before last. Quaint little town. Tiny little empty airport. Welcome break from Mumbai, I think to myself. So I collect our bags and head out. We are instantly the object of numerous stares. Not the fleeting glance of a Mumbai passerby. Not the nosey sideways glance of the disapproving Punekar. Not the lingering glance of the curious Punjabi. Two points of difference, the people in the mentioned examples go on with their lives whilst stealing glances, and they acknowledge your right to privacy by looking away when they notice you've noticed. Not in Jaipur. People drop their chores. Fold their hands. And stare. Not check out, not glance, but stare. And what I'd done to deserve their undivided attention, was that I was wearing a ponytail and shorts. And my wife, well she's a woman. That seems to be enough for people to drop every thing they're doing and stare, and continue to stare.

The drive to the hotel from the airport is uneventful. So we notice the roads. Wide and clean. Sparsely populated with cars. But the cars ensure they zigzag enough to occupy the entire road. Leaving place of course for the nut jobs driving down the wrong side in the fast lane.  They seemed to all have been taught by the same teacher - speed all you can, and brake just in time to avoid hitting the car in front of you. Come potholes or speed breakers, slowing down is for suckers, and traffic rules are for losers. I've seen a total of 10 traffic police men in 9 months, and 6 of them were standing together... So a total of 5 occasions. In 9 months. Without a single day spent completely at home.

I'll skip over the hotel stay period and move straight to the house. 

The broker was the first example of the service industry we came across. Once the cat is in the bag, suddenly time loses meaning. 10 minutes could mean any thing from 3 to 24 hours depending on the 'direness' of the consequences of tardiness I promise over the phone. This rule extends to every service, plumbers, electricians, carpenters, taxis etc. save the notable exceptions of the bsnl people and the lpg agent. Weird. Moving on to the settled life. The water is this odd toxic waste which makes you want to throw up unless its chilled below 4 degrees. We haven't grown used to it in 18 months. Also the water neither washes soap nor conditioner off your body or hair.

The house numbers seem to have been marked by someone on an acid trip. Haphazard would be an understatement. It takes me 10 minutes everyday without exception to explain the location of my house to my cab driver. And finding the houses of the other people to be picked up never gets any easier.
The houses themselves are built with an fsi of about 4.5. The architecture , with a few exceptions, is like the person bought a plot of land, built a wall around it, and threw in all the bricks and cement, hoping for the best. Why pay an architect? We can manage. The result is the worst optimization of space I've seen in my life. The houses all have 2 walls common with neighbors on either side. I shudder to think what would happen in case of fire, and how easy it would be for a burglar to get around house to house via the connected terraces.

Come weekend, the first two can be spent handicraft shopping. Then what ? There are a total of two malls worth the name, and unless you're a foodie, there is nothing to do in this so called city. And if you are a foodie there is nothing to do two weeks after you get here.

I realized its a rich, cash driven city, not because I saw any sign of opulence, but because the shops are open and shopping goes on in spite of  all the 7 atms in the vicinity being either out of order or cash. And this was not a one time occurrence.

Jaipur was the first time I had to bag my own groceries at a super market. I was in shock. And the bag was a carton. Here in Jaipur, the ban on plastics is just another way to make a quick buck.

The liquor stores close at 8. What? Seriously? I can never ever find a store open on  a  weekday cause I get off work at 8 30. Who drinks before 8 on a weekday?

Try and get into an auto rickshaw without getting swindled. Not happening. The meter is a mere ornament. All fares are negotiated. On whim. 10 km might cost you a hundred, and 11 might cost fifty more. Night fares apply as soon as the sun goes down. True cave men these.

What can I say about the doctors. 4 different places including fortis hospital, the case history is a formality. They make one, but never look at it again. I believe any decision made with an inadequate case history is questionable at best. You may argue that Jaipur is pretty hale and hearty, I say no thanks to the doctors.

While one would come across the odd misspelled board on a shop in Mumbai, its almost the rule here.  

The 'pink' in the pink city is mostly a dirty orange. And it is pretty wide spread. Why a flyover, for example , needs to be that hideous colour is beyond me..

All said and done, its a nice quaint little hole, good maybe for a 3 day visit if you're staying in one of the claimed 5 star properties. Any longer and it just plain sucks.

Little pink line

My life's work it seems is just a number on my screen.

A rather pleasureless result, this lonely little pile of green.

Forever running like a poor hamster stuck within it's wheel.

I can't understand why they say nothing's what it may seem

Work refuses to leave my head though I called it a day.

Happiness forever gone to sleep no matter what I say

The music is gone the painting is dead
The poetry is no more

The pointlessness of the whole charade  makes my head want to explode

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Every dream I ever dreamed seems cursed to mean nothing anymore

Every single breath I take feels like a very expensive loan

I sigh and grieve as I look at the house that could never be a home

Alcohol's once heavenly stupor holds less charm evermore

The desire to stay this course gets weaker by the day

The faint light at the end of the tunnel seems to fade further away

And for some weird but pertinent reason, I don't even care.

The laughs are hollow the smiles are fake even the tears aren't genuine anymore

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Against all odds the littlest thing
Brings joy back to the day
A little pink line on a plastic strip
Just takes my breath away

Chorus

It's real funny how happiness
Always hides in plain sight
And all it takes
Is an accident or a happy eye.

Dawn

Something's very wrong.
Something's just not the same.
Trying not to think of it,
Won't make it go away.
It would all be okay,
If i could just for once,
Put my finger on it .

Every one's happy.
Every one is sane.
Every thing is better,
Than i've ever known
It to have been.
Is that it?
Is it all too good?
to be part of my
miserable being?

Life is not a struggle.
I just reach out
And grab what i want.
I have it all,
All the money and fame
Will someone, anyone
Pray tell me
Why it all feels so strange??

A single though
Circumvents my head
"Get out!" it screams.
"get the hell out of here!!"
But another thought
I then notice
Get out, and go where ?
Something's got to give
This dream or my head.

Suddenly it all makes sense.
A dream it is
And i'm not bound in.
Buoyed by this realization
To the surface I float.
Consciousness swiftly
Replacing the cloud in my head.

From one hell to another
I come falling through.
Now i'm pinned down
Stuck fast to my bed.
This beast i can't see
Trying to enter my chest.
I call out to my maker
Struggling to keep control
Lest I lose my body,
my mind or my soul .

As sanity threatens
To desert my mind.
It looks like my soul will go
Somewhere no one can find.
I find my voice
A scream breaks loose.
I'm finally awake.
Breathing in short gasps.
Sweat soaks my hair.

The ordeal is over.
But the fear is not gone.
I wonder why,
Then the truth strikes home
Its cold, its dark and I'm alone
And it's a full nine hours
Untill the break of dawn.

Ticket to life

Get up, get started, get it on
Now's better than ever again

Yesterday's a nightmare, the morrow a dream
Right now's the only game

Deep in the rut, you've got both feet stuck,
Time chains and drags you away,
Day after night after week after month
Years after decades it's just crazy

Velocity naught displacement squat
You've been running in the same place
If you don't move it soon, get into it now
You'll have missed the window

The window of opportunity

They won't hand it to you,
For the simple reason that,
They don't have any to spare,

Believe it or not, like it or not,
Only you can write your own,
Ticket to life.

Grab it now. Grab it by the nuts,
That's the one, the only way,
Blitz kreig and take what is yours,
If you can hear this, it's not too late.

No more hands chained to your sides,
Light a fire to the place,
Melt you shackles, use the boiling metal,
To tattoo your destiny,

Onto your once dreary life

Get up, get started, get it on
Now's better than ever again

Yesterday's a nightmare, the morrow a dream
Right now's the only game

They won't hand it to you,
For the simple reason that,
They don't have any to spare,

Believe it or not, like it or not,
Only you can write your own,
Ticket to life. 

Auto pilot

The area of the brain which controls or handles or generates guilt is not active when you're just about to fall asleep or in the instant you have woken up or when you're seriously drunk. It's just off.
As we all know, serious guilt has significant physical manifestations. A cramped up diaphragm (the proverbial brick in the stomach) to restrict breathing. A flurrry of subconscious brain activity threatening to take over conscious thought the minute you lower your guard. Depending on the particular cause of your guilt, over compensating behavior. All these manifestations of guilt just disappear in the three scenarios I just mentioned.

With sleep it's momentary. You don't remember for the instant before you're fall asleep, because all the effort invested in trying to fall asleep is essentially effort in that direction. So the instant you get there, boom. The waking up part lasts a few seconds while you gather your geographical and moral bearings.

Coming to the point of this rambling, the sustained guilt free state, through the consumption of copious amounts of alcohol. The wipe out is so thorough, that you could allow yourself to compound your guilt,  by repeating the action (or lack of it) that led to the state of affairs in the first place.  Since alcohol is a disinhibitor, it makes you reach your natural state which is instinctual and primal and you tend to do what your gut tells you.  It pushes you back your entire lifetime from a memory and learning perspective and a few hundred thousand years from an evolutionary learning perspective. You become this joyful being without constraints, burdens, prejudices, responsibilities, a past, with no concern for consequences and the future.  You're living in the present.  (Essentially you become a dog). In short alcohol switches off the pesky thinking and analyzing part of your brain and puts you on auto drive. The result?  Peace.  You're not concerned with anything, about anyone etc.... You're restored to your natural selfish blissful state. 

Did the word 'blissful' there ring a bell? It's exactly the same buttons spiritual or religious activities and meditation push. The effects are similar, barring the lack of motor control. 

Think about it.  The net goal of all spiritual routine,  when you peel off the layers of mythology and dire consequences, is to involve you in a mind numbing chant or dance or some activity which basically turns off the aforementioned thinking part of the brain. For moments when it's successful,  you feel blessed. You feel forgiven.  Of course you feel forgiven - you're not feeling guilt anymore. And of course it's addictive.  The books, the stories,  the theories etc are all designed to make you 'praise the Lord' in some way,  leading to meditation,  chanting and the like.

It's been mentioned that mediation is performance enhancing,  more relaxing than sleep etc.  Wouldn't you do better at everything if you were on natural instinctive auto pilot ? All your knowledge in hardware,without the software to slow it down or interfere. (Yes hardware is much faster than software).
Also without you sabotaging your own bodily form and function,  you breathe better,  your posture improves etc etc etc.  Sleep will be needed eventually, but in small measure.  You would age slower since you would do lesser damage to your body.

Someone has rightly called religion the opium of the masses. What he missed out however is that opium, without the associated physical issues might be an excellent way of life in non war scenarios.  Infact, why not war? Yes, it would be difficult to indoctrinate,  but those you get through to would kill without guilt and without malice. 

The ideal solider hence, would be a yoga expert.

Wish

Saw her standing there
looking at a notice board
piqued me down to hell
cause why does one look
at a notice board
when you don't wanna read
and its way well past twelve

So i went up to her
and asked her the name
hey we were all new
and making friends
she smiled back
and we walked on home
hit it off, sure as hell

And she was fun
no hangups in life
Did every thing i could name
late nights and early morns
became a parcel of the tale
chat and walk and philoso talk
and the odd funny gourmet meal

Good times rolled by
and I liked her more
I guess she liked me as well
But reader be warned
no romantic talk
we all professionals here

Slowly but surely
I noticed nothing girlie
About our lady here
And I heaved many
a sigh of relief
as there was no romance
hung in the air

Then I wished Some
and I wished some more
But now I think
Its what had me made
in the end I prayed real hard
God , let her not be a dame

And as I closed my eyes
There was a bright light
seconds rolled back
the seconds turned to years
and I stood in the hallway
All the years ago
with no memory I fear

And as I walked on home
A guy was giving
the notice board a stare
No reading , I kept walking
and why shouldn't I
I thought to my self
What a Queer.

Love - I

   Will restrict this discussion to the interaction between adult humans for the sake of linearity. The remaining variations will be factored in in the coming write-ups.

   Its complicated by its simplicity. Its just that we see it in its many variations, and are often led on by its not difficult to mistake diminutive cousins, lust, infatuation, and my favourite, misunderstanding. If you're getting the drift here, all these are our reactions to external stimuli.

   Lust is driven by one or more physical sense and when that is superimposed over the primal drive to mate, leads to a very strong mix, heavily supported by chemical impetus, easily mistaken for love due to the similar initial. But its akin to mistaking a room cooler for an industrial size air conditioner. The first blow of air may seem like heaven from either to a sweating person, but with the cooler, a half hour later you're only slightly better, and your room is not even that, having become a humid mess. Infatuation is lust's lame, impotent cousin.

   Misunderstanding is worth elaboration however. While lust stems primarily from physical appearance of the subject aided sometimes by body language, misunderstanding almost always stems from verbal and non verbal cues, leads to a misplaced or premature notion of initiation or reciprocity from the subject, thus acting as a catalyst for one's own emotional reactions and advances, thereby leading to an untimely demise of the entire 'relationshipling', if I may call it that.
Like the earlier three, love in its unadulterated form is a reaction, but unlike them, not to any single sense but a combination of them all. Throw in a sixth if I dare. And when that happens the value of the result is greater than the sum or even product of the individual components. No credit due to the gestalt school of thought, since I learnt the word after I penned the concept. All that is required for an explosion is reciprocation.
   
The beginnings physically are similar to the earlier phenomenon - the chemical reactions resulting from the brain celebrating having identified a suitable mate to propogate the species. The dilation of the pupils, the activation of the sweat glands, the elevated heart beat, the sinking feeling in the stomach , the works. If you're lucky and the relationship progresses beyond this point, you need to be prepared for the tough part.. Come the 2 year mark, the chemicals which autopilot the interaction so far have normally achieved their objective, and are willing to be spilled for the next viable mating candidate. You are left with manual steering, stick gear shift, and a shattered windshield, so even a nominal speed means the wind and sand blind you. Also the brakes seem to be rigged with explosive - every time you try to slow down, BOOM! Some functionality or progress is lost.

   The obvious question that comes to mind is, why slow down? Well, its because the basic purpose of the engagement has been served, and the question in everyone's head is 'now what?' That's where the difference between love and its cousins comes in. Love doesn't end at mating. It involves a much more complex intertwining of lives and fates. Its about support in times of need, some one to brag to when you succeed, shoulder to cry on when you fail, someone to share vacations with, someone to bring your kids up with, someone to reinstate your faith in yourself when the world thinks you're a douche, in short someone to share life with. Sounds good. Hunky Dory even. What's the problem then? Why the heart burn and the conflict and the hesitation to commit even when you know that the person in front of you is fit to share your life with?


   As mentioned, love is a mutually beneficial unwritten social contract we seek to enter with a person we judge suitable. Admission of love by extension is a declaration of handing power over yourself to another person. And that is the little bone that can choke the bravest, most dreamy of people. Granting someone non trivial control of your life is the trade off for all goodies listed above.

So its just that really, the good ol' pro and con. You willing to compromise a serious amount of freedom for a promised friend and companion, love is for you. Else steer clear... The price is clearly printed on the ticket- you want an exclusive deal, you'll have to give an exclusive deal... You'll be surprised how many go for the first option. I always am. Coming up next, other forms of love...