Test ad

Visit to a historical place

This is my take on an old essay topic “Visit to a historical place”. This piece has been floating in my mind in various versions since a long time – a few years at least.

We lived in Jodhpur during my 7^th and 8^th grade. Jodhpur is famous for its Umaid Bhavan palace and Mehrangarh Fort. The post is about one of my many visits to Mehrangarh fort. For anyone who wants to read the history and architecture, I suggest you google for it.

---

“Leaning with my back against the wall, I was listening to the guide describe the architecture to a group of foreigners nearby. As I had come here often, and knew much of the facts for myself, I realized that the guide was simply conning the group. It happens surprisingly often.

Just then, I heard a loud “What nonsense!” from my left. I turned my head, but there was no one nearby. I thought I dreamt that noise, so I turned my attention back to the group and silently laughed at the foreigners.

“The idiot doesn’t know what year the fort was built, and he’s telling it like he laid each stone brick himself!” This time I hadn’t dreamt it. Again I turned to the left and asked “who’s speaking? Is someone there?” As it was a blank wall, I didn’t really expect a reply.

“Can you hear me?”

I nearly jumped when I heard that! I asked back, “Yes, but who are you, and why can’t I see you?”

“You can see me, but you don’t know that I can talk. That’s always the case with people!”

Now I was scared. Hearing a disembodied voice is scary to anyone. But the voice didn’t sound scary. It was ancient, slightly wheezy, as if a very old man is lying on a charpoy and talking to a group of little kids.

“If I can see you where are you?”

“I’m right beside you. Embedded in the wall.”

“You mean you were buried in the wall? How are you still alive?”

“Not buried you idiot! I’m part of the wall! I’m a stone brick on your left, the one with a stupid heart graffiti.”

“Okay. The joke is over. Who is it? Who’s playing the prank on me?” How can a brick talk? I looked around to see if I could see someone was laughing at me. No one was.

“You fool, it’s not a prank. I can speak all the time. But people don’t have the ears to hear. I myself am surprised how you can hear me today.”

“You can talk all the time?”

“Yes. We bricks talk to each other all the time.”

“All the brick can talk?”

“You know it’d be much faster and easier for both of us, if you didn’t ask stupid questions, and repeat everything I say!” The brick seemed to be getting irritated.

“I’m sorry” I said. “But I’m still trying to come to terms with a talking brick. It just goes against everything I know and have learned so far.”

“Do you know everything? Is your learning over?”

“Umm…no!”

“A big fallacy of humans is that they refuse to believe anything that they haven’t been taught. You too are still refusing the possibility of a talking brick, and yet here we are talking to each other.”

“But you still haven’t answered my question, how can the bricks talk?”

“I can’t answer the question, as I don’t know the answer myself! What I do know is that all objects, living and so called non-living, can talk. The real mystery is why you can’t hear us. Beings of lesser intelligence can hear us better than you humans can. Perhaps it is your intelligence that inhibits you from hearing the voices of other objects in nature.”

“You mean like monkeys?”

“Monkeys, birds, ants, and many many more! Why do you think a bird will build its nest on a particular ledge only, when there are so many available? The bird can hear the sympathetic brick or stone calling it. Ants too will walk over stones that allow them. Nature is about collaborating, coordinating and coexisting. Humans on the other hand believe in control. That’s the reason why this or any other fort was built. Or any other house, or hut or dams or bridges are built. People think that the earth exists so that it can provide for them.”

The brick didn’t have very high regards for people.

“But people brought you here, and laid you here, made you part of the wall of this great fort.”

“Yes, but for their own purpose. Unlike birds, they didn’t care whether I wanted to be brought here, and chipped and broken into their idea of perfect shape and size. That was 500 years ago. Since then I’ve got accustomed to this place, and like it here. But there are some of us that still cry for the deep valley and jungle where they were put by nature herself.”

“500 years? So you are that old? You must be knowing so much about the fort and its rulers.”

“I’m much older. A couple of million years at least. But in my present brick shaped form, yes I’m 500 years old. We bricks do not have the complex intelligence to comprehend ideas, but we are extremely good timekeepers and memory preservers. So I do know everything about the fort and its rulers. There is a lot of truth in the saying ‘Even walls have ears’, but we seldom spill our secrets. We are not allowed to change the course of history with our knowledge, but merely remember it.”

“So what do you know about the fort?”

“I know the first stone that was installed by Rao Jodha. The first stone is always the most auspicious of all. The royal priest selected the stone from a quarry not far from here; even I’m from the same quarry. He said that the sun shone in the stone. The stone himself claims to have been blessed by Krishna.”

“You mean Lord Krishna?”

“Yes. But that’s not true. While he may have been more blessed than others, no Lord Krishna or Rama or anyone came close to our quarry in the million odd years that I’ve lived.”

“How do you know? Maybe you couldn’t recognize the god.” I wanted to believe that this fort was connected to Lord Krishna in some way.

“Son, we stones are much better judge of humans that humans themselves are. Since we live so long, we learn to recognize people and their personalities by the vibes they give. If any god or saint came near us, we’d immediately recognize the divinity.”

“So that stone is lying?”

“No, but he’s conceited. He was touched by a great saint, who worshipped Krishna.”

The conversation went on till closing time. I had sat down as my legs had started aching. The conversation was so absorbing, that I had forgotten about food and water for those few hours. The brick told me about the wars fought, the bravery of the soldiers, the love of the people for the kings, the intense rivalry of brothers. His descriptions were so life-like, that I was transported to the scene of action.

“Its late now”, the brick said. “Time for you to leave.”

“I’ll come again tomorrow”, I said. “We’ll continue this talk tomorrow.”

“We’ll see.”

The next day I got ready at 8 a.m. My parents were surprised, as usually I liked to stay in bed as long as I could. I rushed to the fort just in time when the gates and ticket windows were due to open. I bought the ticket, and rushed to the wall.

“Hi there. I’m back.”

Silence.

“Are you still sleeping?”

More silence.

“Come on, wake up. I came so early just to talk to you.”

Still no sound. Meanwhile, the morning guide was giving me strange looks.

I thought I’ll come again in 5 minutes. So I took a small stroll, and came back to the wall in 5 minutes.

“Come on, why are you silent today?”

I persisted with my efforts to get the brick to talk back. After about an hour I understood that today the brick will not talk. Maybe yesterday something happened to me that enabled me to hear and talk to the brick. Today I was no longer in that same state. Even though we spoke only for a day, I felt that I lost a dear friend.

I started to leave.

As I was walking back, I saw a girl near another wall, giggling by herself. She too was talking to someone invisible. I realized that today it was her day to hear the rich history from a different brick.

A small smile played on my lips, as I walked back to my home.”

On a roller-coaster

I’m here after a very very long time. A lot of things have happened since the last post. We have named our baby Rajat. It means Silver in Sanskrit. Also, I have since moved to Chennai. I left Samsung after 7 years, and joined Cisco at their Set Top Box division in Chennai.

(On a tangential note: I had written a big blog about my experiences in Samsung. Unfortunately, my PC – Windows 7 – crashed, and took the C drive data with it… I was lucky to recover my E and F drives. Those contained all my photos, songs, and other very very important stuff!)

Leaving Bangalore after 7 years, that too after I bought my own apartment was a very tough decision. I doubt I would’ve changed the city had it been just any other company. But lure of Cisco was too great (So was the lure of the lucre). So now I’m in Chennai. Its April, and the summer has started in all earnest.

Ok, enough of that! I meant this post to be about parenting. If any of you are expecting any tips, then you have come to the wrong place… I still am blundering along, learning new things every day.

Rajat is close to 1 year now (will be an year old on 20th April 2011). He has started making those cute baby sounds, crawling, tearing up any paper that he can lay his tiny hands on, stuffing his mouth with everything that he should not, trying to stand up, crawling out the front door on his own, climbing upon the tables, making a mess in the house, peeing and shitting all over the place, falling down and crying and doing the same thing again! In short, he’s trying his level best to be as much trouble as Rupali and I can handle together!

Each day is an adventure for him. As much as it is for us. I feel that a baby should be allowed to explore as much as he can on his own. I let him go behind the table, near the TV, near the telephone, open the almirahs, remove various objects like boxes, containers, tubes, packets, etc… from them. For Rajat, everything is an interesting object worth scrutinizing. He observes it from the top, then bottom, in one hand and then the other, from the left, from the right, then smells it, tastes it, listens to its sound, feels its complete texture, then finally when he’s done with that, tries to eat it. If he can get some part of it in his mouth comfortably, then its his favorite object. Here is a note to baby toys manufacturers – all toys should have one part that a baby can safely stuff in his mouth and preferably that part should taste like cherries (or orange, or mango. I’m not too particular about it!) Then see that toy fly off the shelves before you can sing “Twinkle Twinkle little star”.

And now for something completely different…

I remember a fable (a Chinese one I think) I read long back, but not the entire story, just the gist:

A man was walking in a garden one day, when he came across a caterpillar cocoon. As he was watching, the cocoon started shaking. Then it broke from one end, and a butterfly started to come out. The butterfly was struggling, trying to break free from its silky prison. The man watched it struggle for a long time. Finally he took pity on the butterfly and decided to help it. He cut the cocoon so that the butterfly could come out.

The butterfly spread its wings, and started to fly. But soon, it collapsed and fell down. The wings of the butterfly weren’t strong enough for the butterfly to sustain it.

There is a reason why butterflies must struggle to come out of its cocoon. The struggle makes the wings strong, so that they can flutter tirelessly from flower to flower, collecting the nectar. In helping the butterfly and cutting the cocoon for it, the man denied that struggle to the butterfly, thus weakening its wings.

That is the rule of Nature. We all must struggle so that our wings become strong.

Rupali and I are facing the dilemma now – how much struggle is enough to make him strong.

Fatherhood has started!

The baby is now 10 days old. I’m learning to be a father – not even a good one, but just enough to take care of the child properly. Rupali was discharged from the hospital in 3 days. I wasn’t there for the night in those 3 days. So I would just see the baby during the day, when his crying and feeding and pooping seemed normal.

The first night after we got him home, we stayed up for more than half the night, Rupali feeding him, and me trying to get him to sleep again. The next night, same routine! Now I’m realizing that people never exaggerated about the trials of raising a child, especially in the first 1 year.

Baby cries. Baby sleeps. Baby feeds. Baby poops. Mostly, baby cries. Sometimes, and I didn’t think it was possible till I saw it, baby does all of it at the same time!

Before becoming a dad, i used to stay away from babies, especially if they have no control over their pooping! But now, I can’t wait to take my child in my hands. Rupali keeps scolding me “Let him sleep”, “Let him feed”, “wash your hands, legs, face, stomach, chest, etc… before you dare touch him”. (I feel she’s acting like a mother tigress – growls whenever a tiger comes near her cubs!)

How am I feeling after becoming a dad? Can’t really say! The first time I saw the the baby coming out of the operation theatre, that ugly looking thing – the most beautiful sight in the world, I couldn’t help but feel a overwhelming happiness. I shed a few tears as well. Choked up when I was giving the good news to our parents. After 10 days, the happiness is still there. But there is also a sense of wonder – the baby keeps doing something new everyday.

Keep checking the pictures for more pictures of the baby.

Saala main to baap ban gaya!!!

Saala main to baap ban gaya!

Baap ban ke kaisa tan gaya!

(with due apologies to the original lyricist).

Good news from my side – Rupali gave birth to a baby boy on April 20, 2010 (a Tuesday). Both mother and the baby are doing fine. The father, on the other hand, is terrified, petrified, scared at the prospect of raising a kid. Most of the people I meet have a serious opinion that I need raising myself!

I’ve never been more scared in my life. My wife doesn’t let me handle the china most of the times, lest I break it. And babies are infinitely more delicate and precious. How am I supposed to handle them? I am careless, lazy, and with an attention span of an amoeba. All these qualities make me the unlikeliest person to take care of a baby. But now I have a baby of my own. Any hints, advices, suggestions, tips and tricks to take care of a baby are welcome. The other day when I was in a grocery store, a lady with 4-5 yr old daughter was ahead of me at the checkout counter. Like all kids, the girl was throwing a tantrum. I mentioned to the lady, I’m just observing how you are handling the kid, as I have one on the way. All she said was “Best of luck!” Rupali, though, will make a great mom; she is full of love most of the time, and stern when needed to be. I can’t be stern. Whenever I try to be, I end up looking like a clown, and that encourages the kids to get into more trouble.

3 years ago, when I was getting married, I thought I was going into an unknown territory. But compared to what I feel now, that seems like a walk in the park. The baby looks small, but is more than a handful. A day earlier, he was bent on crying. And now matter what we tried, he just wouldn’t stop. I’m getting a taste of all the stories that my friends told me. One of them told me that I will keep wondering “how can such a small thing cry so much?”

I’m also at the other end of the spectrum at the same time. The lilies look whiter, bougainvillea look pinker, roses are more perfumed, birds are chirpier... The romance of taking care of the baby, observing him every minute I’m there with him, every little movement, every little sound from his small, pink lips, every furrowing of the eyebrows, everything is exciting. Even the way he cries is cute – no sound could be more melodious. (Of course, when the crying starts at 3am, I’ll probably feel a lot different).

I could’ve written a succinct blog, informing that I’ve become a father. But even this long post doesn’t even begin to describe what I feel. Every day I will discover something new; not all of it may be pleasant. But all of it is fun.

For more photos, check First Baby Pictures. Also check this video if you are interested in seeing the baby cry.

Rest of my life starts soon

Today i write a blog that is long in coming. Its an announcement about my marriage. For the uninitiated, i got engaged to Rupali on 18th February 2007. And on 10th of May, after around 3 months, i'm getting married to her!

The scanned images of the invite have been uploaded on my Picasa pics page (the 'Marriage Invitation' ablum).

I have been engaged for just over 2 months now. And in another 2-3 weeks, i'll be married. The talk time with Rupali has increased a lot, though after a few sleepless nites (and sleepy days after those nites) of talking, now we break the chat over the course of the whole day. The talk has taken a different sense of comfort level. Initially we both would try to impress each other, sometimes knowingly, and sometimes, unknowingly. She'd tell me about her culinary skills, and i'd brag that even i know how to cook! (goes without saying that all i can actually do is light the stove!)

Though we still do a bit of impressing now and then (i don't think that'll ever stop), now we are more comfortable knowing that the person on the other end of the line really wants to talk to us. The initial excitement about just talking has given way to this comfort feeling.

Anyway, coming back to the point, i'm engaged for over 2 months. So far the feeling that i'm going to lose all the 'freedom' of bachelorhood has not yet hit me. I suspect, it'll probably hit during the actual marriage, around the 3rd 'phera' around the fire to be exact. My steps may falter. I may look at the 'Exit' sign with increasing longing. But i think i'll make it through the ceremony alrite, unscathed, in 1 piece, alive (if not kicking), atleast for now.

Then starts the unpredictable, difficult, strange, unknown but also, i suspect, a very beautiful part of life. Living with someone who cares about me a lot, fusses over the smallest things, cooks with a lot of love for me, etc... In a nutshell, she'll pamper me a lot, and lets face it, i love being pampered!

Let me quote an oft quoted quote from 'When Harry met Sally': "When you realize you want to spend the rest of your life with somebody, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible."

I want my life with Rupali to start just as soon!

The lessons learnt...

I had written this post long back. Must've been over 4 months now. But didn't post it, don't know why i didn't. Today i revisited the article again, and it seemed good! So here it is. I hope you think so too.

One of the news in November '06 was about the death of a Hollywood director, Robert Altman. Even though i don't remember seeing any of his movies, he did have some impact on me, through the serial M*A*S*H*. Altman had directed the movie M*A*S*H* (his first hollywood hit), and the serial was a derivative of that. And he had set most of the tone of the serial.

Way back in 1993, when we finally got cable at our place (after much cajoling!), the M*A*S*H* reruns were being broadcasted on STAR TV. The serial was about a army medical unit stationed in Korea during the Korean war. Now back then, i hadn't even heard of korean war, and had heard something about Vietnam, but i liked the serial, and slowly it began to grow on me. I used to book my slot in the evening to watch it, and no one else is allowed to watch anything else at that time.

I think what i liked about the serial was the fact that they used to have a nice balance of the fun and work. The surgeons, when not in surgery (sometimes even during it) used to spend time playing pranks. But they really worked hard at saving the lives, and feeling hopeless when someone died... i guess it was a lot like life. Sometimes things don't necessarily work out the way you want them too...

Perhaps, many of my friends will not be able to relate to my liking these serials. Call me a sentimentalist, but i used to like the light comedy serials that did not take itself too seriously, and the viewer wouldn't either. I also liked serials that aren't in a rush to finish, but used to take a slow meandering path. Now, don't go thinking that i also like the 'saas-bahu' serials. I don't! i vehemently hate them. They don't go anywhere, they have no sense. Anyway, to get back to the main topic, these serials always had a bit of life thrust in them. MASH, Wonder Years, even Doogie Howser M.D.! Ofcourse if i watch them again today, perhaps i'll like the feeling of nostalgia that i'll get, rather than the serials themselves.

When we are in our teens, the little advices that are present in these serials seem like a big philosophical discourse to us. We think that hey its such a profound statement that Doogie is typing in his computer (a pre-pentium piece, that now we'd see only in museums, or the railways booking counter!). As we grow up, the statements seem a hackneyed. But even today, perhaps i'll ask a teenager to watch them, because at that age it is a big philosophy. For me they have been a learning experience... about friendship, school, heartaches and heartbreaks, even a crush that we had. Sometimes they tackled some heavy topics, such as death, revenge, jealousy! These serials taught me a little about the difference between right and wrong, and also that sometimes there is little difference between the two.

I'm not claiming that i am a know-all, and certainly don't claim that whatever i have learnt, is from those serials. I am what all my learnings have made me. My teachers have been at home, in school, in the playground, in the books, the TV, the movies, my friends, and countless others. An ant teaches me persistence, my dog teaches me ... actually nothing, but he's fun to be around with! He's not even loyal; he'd go with whoever is ready to take him for a walk, and roll on the floor for whoever is offering him a bone, or sweet!

Another point, i know i'm biased towards english serials, but there have been a few good hindi serials as well. The one that i really used to like is a very old serial 'Neev' in the late 80s. I don't know how many people still remember that. But, i liked it. It was about a boarding school, and the teachers, and the students. I think that serial even so long back, made more sense than all the K-serials put together in this age!

I don't know why i have written this post. I suppose i'm just getting a bit nostalgic about the days gone by... the wonder years!