welcome to the jungle

As Clouds Roll By....

2010-10-02T14:57:00.000-07:00

These thoughts are brought on by a short visit to Shillong over the past mid-week. After a hot, humid and generally ‘in your face’ 3 months, it was pleasant getting away into the mountains. I was put up in a comfortable but secluded guest room, away from the hub of the rest of the station – with only an old caretaker for company (throwback to the scenes from old tales). The inclement weather meant the telephone line to the room had snapped, as had the cable TV line. My mobile, at the best of times, showed only the solitary ‘danda’ of network strength. The locale however, was resplendent.

Fragrant rolling pine woods, carpeting the ground with dried needles...wild flowers blooming madly in the undergrowth without any semblance of artificial culture.....stems of plants encrusted with thick moss....early morning clouds sweeping by your feet even as you stood viewing the sunrise over the reaches of the distant slopes.

I was enamoured and moved with a sudden deep desire to stay there forever , away from the mad rush of humanity......writing....strumming....walking...reading. No phone calls, vehicles, smoke and noise....just fresh mountain air and wherever one looked, the colour green.
.....and just then , the other half of this ‘civilised’ brain answers back with a vengeance.
“Dude , its Ryder Cup weekend...you’ll miss the opening 2 sessions of foursomes and fourballs.”
“What if you don’t get back all weekend at all....what happens to the Arsenal-Chelsea game?”
“What about the season ending Yankees-Red Sox series at Fenway with the AL East pennant on the line?”
Further disillusionment followed as I sat down to a frugal dinner of aaloo beans, dal and chapattis – what wouldn’t I have given for a succulent steak and fries followed by some gourmet dessert. The water in the room was a suspicious yellow and the electric voltage at best half of normal.
The experience left me smiling at the irony....I was become too much of a city boy....too dependent on technology....too strongly enmeshed in the perks of civilisation, the ills of which I was often the first one to chide.
Nature v Nurture indeed...nurture had too strong a leash over me to overcome all the attractions nature offered. As I bid farewell, with more than a tinge of regret to that balmy clime.....I was wondering if I could change the words of Jagger n Richards.

It is the evening of the day
I sit and watch the pine woods fair.
Wildflower blossoms I can see
But not for me.
I sit and watch
As clouds roll by.

Atheist Morality

2010-09-08T21:55:00.001-07:00

This post was mooted after reading an internet article recommended to me. It challenged the claims and the reasons thereof for morality among prominent modern day atheists, notably the likes of Dawkins and Dennet , and the fact that , for all their brilliant arguments in the rejection of god and religion , the arguments for the reasons of morality in the modern day atheist do not quite possess the same persuasiveness. For instance, Dawkins denounces the widespread clamour in favour of religion – that it is a great driving force towards morality in society and leads to a great deal of philanthropic work. The article challenges the atheist philosopher’s claim that “without religion , the good will still do good and the evil will still do evil , but for a good person to do evil , requires religious motivation”.
As has been my wont, at the face of it, I was ready to denounce the article as another bit of creationist trash talk, but it made much more sense than that. Indeed some of the arguments propounded in it were ones which had previously crossed my mind; hence they set in motion a chain of thought which I was compelled to pen down, quite a long time back actually , but have finally got around to doing it , almost 3-4 months after I read the article.
Before proceeding to air my perhaps inconsequential thoughts, I feel it noteworthy to mention that I am totally unschooled in any of the so-called important philosophical works, which over the years might have (and still may) pulled weight in literary circles. Neither am I aware of much of the philosophical / spiritual / ethical theory which may have been propounded. Perhaps that is the good bit about philosophy; one can say whatever one feels likes and then claim – “well, it is my philosophy”. Voicing ideas contrary to those of Hume, Nietzsche, Freud, Marx, Russell etc, is hardly comparable to claiming the overthrow of General Relativity.

So , to get down to business – at the very outset , I’m not overtly thrilled by the use of the terms “good” and “evil” or “moral” and “immoral”. Outside of human society , there exists no meaning for these terms anywhere in the living world as is known to us. Why then do they hold such prominence in our society , which is after all an offshoot of the same laws of nature that govern all , from the bacterium to the chimpanzee.
A dangerous territory to tread this....as this very point has been championed by all creationist , anthropocentric propaganda. The oft quoted invocations to the human soul and the work of god , which allow a moral human society to be separated from a barbaric animal one is well known. However the reasons thereof are not far to seek and well mooted in Darwin’s venerable theory as is aught else that concerns life on the planet.
Society arose simply to divide labour among individuals and to this very day essentially serves that purpose, although the spectrum of labour indeed may have magnified considerably in the 21st century as opposed to the days of our cave dwelling ancestors. The simplest society was the one of the male and the female...the pregnant and the nursing female stays in the shelter to protect and rear the offspring while the male is out hunting / hunting gathering : a fact which perhaps explains the genetically superior physical prowess of the male of our species. For a moment ignoring the hormonal influences of such evolution , it would have been interesting had males evolved the capacity to nurse the young after the female gave birth ...the periods of child rearing (pre and post partum) might then have been more equally shared and perhaps we might have seen Usain Bolt and Marion Jones competing for similar times in the 100m....however as is glaringly obvious , such a development would have conferred far less evolutionary advantage to the species than the one which has evolved.
Back then to human society – from couples to group of couples to communities , initially nomadic followed by settlers...initially hunters / gatherers followed by food growers. As society grew in size , so did the number of tasks required for the community....and so there were hunters , farmers , soldiers , masons , craftsmen , teachers and so on. With the development of religion and worship as the integral component for survival and well being , priests who conned all and sundry (and continue doing so even today) gained eminence : In a nutshell labour was significantly divided and each individual was assigned tasks only upon completion of which would he be entitles to the common resources of the community for his and his family’s upkeep.
The role of the individual and the manner in which it leads to the fragmentation of society is not my purview today , but yet another idea. With growing complexity in the organisation of society , there became requirements for regulations which all members of the community had to follow to prevent the balance of the community from tipping over and the entire structure degenerating into chaos. Individuals failing to abide by these regulations would be meted out punishments – whatever they might be as per memetic evolution and the severity of the so called ‘crime’.
It is my belief that the very basic of these requirements , the ones which if not strictly adhered to would precipitously harm the balance of the society , are the very ones which over the course of generations have been evolutionarily ingrained into the human psyche as morals. It can hardly be doubted that strong legal sanctions reinforced by a rigid mental stance against a particular behavioural pattern serves twice as strong a deterrent to the pattern proliferating and ultimately endangering the integrity of the community. 2 such pretty universally condemned actions which invoke almost universal condemnation in any society are murder and theft....so there you have it , the evolution of 2 of the strongest moral dictums.
“Thou shalt not kill”
“Thou shalt not steal”

It is easy to see therefore, how religion and its methods were drawn towards morals from an embryonic stage ...morals reinforced the stability of society, and religion, by using morality as its chief brand ambassador , entrenched its roots ever deeper into the human psyche. Again, I shall not delve into the monster that religion really is and how it has twisted the concept of morals and usurped its real origins to use it lethally against the very thing it evolved to protect – the stability of society.
To come to the point which got me writing in the first place: how do atheists explain the need for moral behaviour? Here is where I hazard my answer. “Atheists have no requirement for morals.” As outrageous as this sounds, the claim is based on the assumption that new age atheists are men of science, logic and reason. The very logic and scientific reason that leads individuals to accept atheism, are the reasons which would (or should) lead to the concept of individual responsibility towards the society and the community. The role of an individual in society is symbiotic – do your bit and it repays you by providing the resources required for you and your family to subsist.
In a perfect society (my Utopia), there would be no need for morals to be indoctrinated to children ; the society would be based on an adamantine foundation of laws – initiated by men of logic and reason , who comprehend the structure of society , its evolution and the role of the individual within it. Once such laws are in place and their implementation is in place, there will be no requirement for the half baked moral code in vogue today which is often illogical and mutually contradictory, not to mention at times completely removed from the fabric of modern society.
Of course the practical achievement of such a society and its implementation are likely to be practically nigh as impossible, as for instance, the success of a communist society without degenerating into totalitarianism (but that topic is for another day). As is glaringly obvious, in a system like this, that omnipresent power struggle and desire for one-upmanship (ratified by none other than Darwinism itself) is likely to pervade deeply and threaten a complete overthrow of the system. That notwithstanding , the initial contention for writing the mail , is that the atheist understands the structure and the evolution of society and hence his role within it. As a result scientific laws are good enough to ensure that the balance of society is not tipped over by him. The real problem lies with the creationists , who attempt to enforce downright stone-age philosophy into a society where it is simply not compatible with leading to well....we are all witness to the chaos it creates.

As the memorable quote runs (of course taking the words good and bad with a pinch of salt): “Without religion the good will still do good and the bad will still do bad, but for the good to do bad , it requires religion”

Reminiscing the Days of Tyranny

2010-07-24T09:42:00.001-07:00

Its 6 in the evening...the day’s work is done....and all of a sudden an enormous sense of freedom and pleasant emptiness grips me....a sensation that was scarce known for the last 3 yrs....and indeed for the best part of the last 5 years (since the time I began studies for the PG entrance exams in any real earnest)..... a wonderful sensation of not having deadlines to meet...not having to look forward to a dreadful day at work (for which my preparation would as usual have been abysmal)...more importantly not having to go back and STUDY..... study for presentations , clinical meetings , and the chief tyrant of them all....VILE EXAMINATIONS.

....oh , How I have come to hate examinations..... more than 30 years of this mundane existence....and the only constant that I can remember , since as far back as I can trace memory are those of examinations..... be it in school , trying desperately to remember the number of pillars in the Meenakshi Temple.....or the terrible evening before the Math paper in Plus 2, quite literally mugging up the solved examples in OP Malhotra , in a desperate attempt to achieved that prized 40 %..... on then to the never ending tests and entrance exams.....the innumerable formulae which were so often memorized yet erased at the bat of an eyelid....projectile motion....gas laws....conversions in organic chemistry and so on.

But these were but the gentle outswingers with the new ball compared with the never-ending barrage of bouncers that awaited in Medical College...and add to it a new monster that reared its head and right upto the very latest days has more than once threatened to devour me....the evil Practical and Viva exam. Oh the painful memory of the night before the Anatomy prelim exams and the desperate attempt at a first ever reading of neuroanatomy.......and abandoning the effort at midnight totally flummoxed somewhere between the nuclei and the connections of the corpus stratum....the terror on the eve before the anat viva was something I thought would never be revisited ( how wrong I was).....the vain attempts at trying to make last moment revisions of the muscular attachments on the various bones would be littered my visions of Zag sharpening a particularly ugly looking battle-axe , his face perpetually etched with that unforgettable malicious smirk.
...what then o Kaisers of the miserable night before the forensic prelim....indeed , what pathetic creatures we were to have made a monster out of forensic medicine.....but let it just be mentioned that without a couple of bottles of rum and some ingenius diplomacy; the K2 batch might just have wrought some rather unpleasant history in the annals of AFMC.
Final MBMS brought its own share of terrors.... the night before the first university exam has always been one particularly heinous....never was it more so than before the dreaded medicine paper....I swear, sitting in the library as the last dregs of sunlight faded away to a darkness that drained all hope....there was not one person sitting in that AFMC library that did not wonder what they had been thinking the time they chose to enter this profession.
If medicine theory was the most mentally taxing, there was none more so than the night before the surgery theory paper I..... I remember vividly , no gap after Medicine paper II....and the syllabus , enormous.....sat through the whole evening and night with just 45 mins sleep (from 2-30 to 3-15) and yet a sizeable chunk of the syllabus couldn’t even be touched.
Medicine viva carried its own share of horrors.....it has perhaps till this day the exam I freaked out maximally over on the previous night (Anatomy notwithstanding). Those pages of Hutchison seemed greek and latin that final night and I was all geared up to repeat after six months.
Surprisingly , the levels to which confidence levels drooped prior to the exams , the same never affected me after finishing the paper....that fear was limited only for one exam , the final MBBS surgery practical exam....after quite haplessly messing up the long case and one short case , the dreaded red mark seemed a very real possibility....and the fears were not unjustified , as I escaped by the skin of my teeth with 51 marks on 100.....putting an end to the miseries of MBBS once and for all.
A bit of a breather after that...no threat of exams for a good three years till the monster of post graduation reared its head....the preparation for PG was perhaps the single most dedicated and intensive slog I’ve put in towards any exam in my life...add to it the growing hysteria of a perpetually deflated Puneet Saxena....but they were probably also one of the more memorable and enjoyable preparations....well all they served was to open the veritable gateway to hell.
PG was a black hole...sure , Pune was good....lot of good things happened , but the mental strain during the three years was at times just unbearable.... thesis , presentations , clinical meetings , calls , exams , bum jobs.... there was anger , mistrust , spite and a forever growing frustration at anything and everything that surrounded one. At times you’d lie on your pillow at night simply hoping not to wake up in the morning.
Quite befitting then that it should be crowned by the worst exam of my life and the ony other one where failure loomed as a realistic possibility....the viva was tortuous , ridiculous , senseless.....
Ah well....all is done and dusted. End to residency , exams and tyranny !!!
.... Indeed , now I know how Frodo felt....

“but if of ships I now should sing , what ship would come to me
What ship would ever bear me back across so wide a sea”

Tiger in the Woods

2010-03-29T08:47:00.001-07:00

One of my everlasting memories is of Tiger Woods in his customary sunday red , pitching out of the bunker at the 16th hole in Augusta in the year 2005 ; and the resulting commentary exultation – “In your life have you seen anything like that ???”.....followed by a rather more sedate "This guy's pretty good."
Tiger , the sporting icon , has been writ large over our generation , across nations and continents in a manner very few athletes have – Michael Schumacher , Roger Federer , Michael Jordan and Lance Amstrong are the only ones that spring to mind. As a golfer, there is only one other in any that has yet played the game to compare with him. Tiger’s influence reaches far wider than the 14 majors and the 60 odd tournament victories to his credit. He is the only reason golf enjoys the global popularity that is does , the overwhelming desire (more than ever before) among increasing hordes of youngsters to pursue golf as a career is down whole and sol to the Tiger factor.....And then we are let to believe that the man has let us and the sport down; by actions in his personal front he has betrayed not only his family but the legions of fans and the sport that has granted him immortality. Tiger has been hounded by the flesh feeding carrion of modern society ...read Media..., his life dissected threadbare , cheap stand up comics on TV earning rating points by cracking lewd jokes at his expense.......alas , that this should be so....the fallout of Tiger’s recent discomfiture brings out aptly though disappointingly , how little understanding of sporting greatness and physical endeavour that the world truly possesses.We who love and live our sport, crave only the sheer excitement and ecstasy the athletes professing their trades provide on the field.....sporting greatness is not conferred by the millions of dollars of endorsements that an individual holds, if that were the case , David Beckham might well have eclipsed Don Bradman and Pele in the list of true sporting gods..... not by the number of charities one patronises , or how wonderful a parent or spouse an athlete has been.When the years have passed, and the striplings of today have grown to witless greybeards.... it will be remembered that George Best was a supreme artist of football, and not as one who wasted his life cohorting women and alcohol.....What will be remembered will be the look of incredulity on Mike Gatting’s face to a then obscure blonde youngster’s first ball in Ashes cricket spinning viciously from outside leg to catch the top of off. , and not the number and content of text messages Shane Warne had sent to nurses , barmaids and have what you may......In a similar vein, when the dust settles and the fickle attention of the media turns elsewhere , what true sports fans will remember , will be memories of Tiger , hobbling on one leg with a torn cruciate ligament to win the epic US Open battle in 2008 against Rocco Mediate.....and hopefully many many more memories of similar ilk (maybe even some in the 2nd weekend of April 2010).By all means, criticize your sportstars when they fail to achieve those standards for which they are so outrageously paid.Criticise Alex Rodriquez when (till last year at least) his overwhelming slugging feats would repeatedly come to an abrupt halt come the beginning of the Major League playoff season.Criticise Warnie for his persistant failures against the Indian batting and the likes of Tendulkar and Laxman.Criticise Federer for his repeated shortcomings against Nadal , Zidane for his head butt on Materazzi, and Henry for the hand ball against Ireland.We are privileged to be part of an era that watched Tiger at his prime. Future generations will wonder at the enormity of his exploits, much in the same way that we do at those of Bradman and Ruth. Here’s hoping that trivialities of family life do not hinder the golfing genius of the man....sex, lies and all the rest notwithstanding.....when the man finally steps up to the tee on the first at Augusta on the 8th of April....and the first shot of his so-called second coming is invariably heralded by the screams of “get in the hole”, here’s hoping that whatever he goes on to achieve is judged merely on his sporting accomplishments and not on the myopic scales of human morality.

Pick up my Guitar and play

2009-01-26T05:41:00.000-08:00

These are heady days….days of especially headstrong winds of change…..not least because they affect me….or better, affect the few avenues in the labyrinth of the world that concern me.
The world of humans is a bizarre place…by far the most intricate and multi-faceted , yet outrageously wasteful biological , socio-cultural and technological ecosystem of all species , meant ultimately , only to sustain that Darwinian rat race called survival.
Morality….theology….art…culture….all radically different from that crazy little helix that works ceaselessly, mindlessly ; ensconced in its little cell….yet ultimately lies at the heart of all creation…be it biological or otherwise.
At certain times…one , each with a set of impoverished 46 XX or XY , is wont to feel distant and aloof….a tiny fragment amidst matters of far greater importance.
Yet at other times one feels at the centre of it all, and why not…if the universe (by which I mean the memetic universe of man , not the cosmic one) is infinite , then each of us is at the centre…the veritable arachnid from which a vast web stretches out…each move of the spider, shaking even the most distant strings…..and conversely…any influence , even on the furthest edges , transmitted to the inhabitant in the centre.

I sit beside the fire and think
Of all that I have seen,
Of meadow flowers and butterflies
In summers that have been.

I sit beside the fire and think
Of how the world shall be,
When winter comes without a spring
That I shall never see.

For there are so many things
That I have never seen,
In every wood, in every spring,
There is a different green.

I sit beside the fire and think
Of people long ago,
And people who will see a world
That I shall never know.

As people would have me believe…..these are the days of history making presidents …. upheavals …… markets …computers ….some say days of terror…some say days that are better.
I wonder…if the sum total of all this…..makes my life happier…and then I smirk. Happiness indeed !!! What on earth was I thinking.
At most times I was wont to be Benjamin the donkey….remember…. “Windmill , or no windmill ; life will go on exactly like it has , and that is…badly.”

I can already discern someone making eyes at me…. “Sour Puss” was it ?...or perhaps “little piece of sunshine”….but little hobbits who sway between “Tookishness” and “Bagginsism” can hardly be blamed.

Barack Obama is already my favourite political personality , at least among the ones that I have heard of till date….and this because of one statement of his -
“Given the increasing diversity of America’s population, the dangers of sectarianism have never been greater. Whatever we once were, we are no longer just a Christian nation; we are also a Jewish nation, a Muslim nation, a Buddhist nation, a Hindu nation, and a nation of nonbelievers.”
Religion and God , I fear (indeed I know) will not die away till the last human on earth ceases his miserable breathing. However there is some hope that in the future there may yet be a day where such outrightly ridiculous, unscientific and delusional affiliations would be limited to a purely personal level….or at the very least , that they may be completely segregated from the administrative , logistic , professional and social commitments required of an individual as part of a community or a state.
In other words….the day when any proforma for personal particulars / bio data ceases to have a column titled “Religion”.
Maybe my hopes are too premature and ultimately misplaced…yet such words from a political statesmen are music to the ears…that have grown accustomed to holier than thou eulogizing by all and sundry.

Well , people tell me that we’re in the midst of a recession….the greatest economic meltdown in three quarters of a century. Companies declare bankruptcy , and masses of people all of a sudden find themselves out of a job …. I am mighty unschooled in markets and such things but one thing which always struck me , whether it be recession or a global economic boom is that, after all isn’t there only so much to go around. How long can a community subsist on writing programs , creating softwares , building computers , evading taxes ( and helping others do the same) and investing resources (what these may be I cannot fathom) to generate so called wealth out of sheer nothingness it would seem (or is it). Everything about the ‘markets’ seems a basic violation of the principles of thermodynamics to an unschooled person like me. Earth…wood…water…and stock….are after all limited…and at most times Malthus makes total sense….they cannot live forever, can they ???
(Shyam , if you read this…please explain).

These days , every few months , it would seem ; the snooty upmarket urban Indian is shocked…….when his own security and survival flashes before his eyes. The last such was when smoke and flame bellowed from the famous turrets of the Taj Hotel. An unquestionably barbaric act……but then you do not expect anything else from individuals who have ceased to acknowledge the principles that form the foundation stones for human civilization. However if the act per say was villainous , the knee jerk reaction that followed was downright absurd.
And at the head of it all was that all-powerful social virus of the technological age – the media. The Indian Media – and its cumulative single mindedly dastardly whorehouse , has made a mockery of all possible norms of ethics, honesty and value systems , never better borne out than in their actions during and succeeding the Mumbai horror.
The media….print or electronic…hardly ever gives you what you should hear…it doesn’t even give you what you want to hear. What it dishes out is a dangerously potent cocktail, meant simply to arouse passions at the expense of any kind of logic or scientific reason. It eats into society like a canker ….dividing it regionally , communally , economically , professionally , linguistically and in every other divisive nature possible ; with one and only one objective : to strengthen its own self and make itself indispensable to the masses. The basic behavioral pattern of selfishness and self above all else is epitomized by the media , ironically a system that is supposed to be working for the masses irrespective of bias or prejudice.
Nothing or no one creates more unrest in the society than the media….neither violent acts of terror , nor controversial movies , nor vitriolic comments made by random individuals….but the manner in which the same are processed, packaged and fed to the unsuspecting crowd in a maliciously ingenius honey coated psycho-toxin.
Facts of any kind are conspicuous by their absence, and what emerges is a garbled up fictitious account more suited to the desks of B grade movie scriptwriters. The other thing the media breeds is decadence and phobia…and worst of all by proffering its own ‘shining’ example encourages an ignorance of basic scientific norms , in exchange for outrightly ridiculous and atavistic mumbo-jumbo.
So much for the media , it is of course an accepted bed-fellow of the highest bidder……what of the rest…. People held hands…..held up posters….lit candles ( a novelty in the Indian context….can anything we do for once cease to be inspired from films.)….and retired into the comfort of their homes.

But from where I stand….ol’ Pete was dead right -

The change, it had to come
We knew it all along
We were liberated from the fold, that's all
And the world looks just the same
And history ain't changed
'Cause the banners, they are flown
In the next war

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again.

There's nothing in the streets
Looks any different to me
And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye
And the parting on the left
Are now parting on the right
And the beards have all grown longer overnight

I'll tip my hat to the new constitution
Take a bow for the new revolution
Smile and grin at the change all around
Pick up my guitar and play
Just like yesterday
Then I'll get on my knees and pray
We don't get fooled again

Life

2008-11-23T09:55:00.000-08:00

If you consider....life really isn't sacred....human life none more so than any other.....however , the way human society is structured... it is imperative that human life be deemed sacred and precious.
The sanctitiy of life is actually a delusion on which the bastions of society are based.

Long Road Out of Eden

2008-09-28T07:40:00.000-07:00

A long pending post..... stuck in some corner of my D drive for more than a month...driven out of immediate memory by other incidents...... but finally managed to sit and pen some words down.

I’d gone out for lunch to “China Grill” on the 15th of August. It’d been a particularly hectic morning with lot of pending work and I was looking forward to a couple of their delicious Bloody Marys along with their exquisite Szechwan Prawns. However, even as I entered, the notice on the doorway , struck me with a ferocious oxymoronic punch.
“On the occasion of Independence Day….Dry Day will be observed….no liquor will be served.”
It was sad…and intensely funny at the same time. “Independence Day” is observed with such outrightly illogical restraints on an individual.
We have the gall to call ourselves independent , when everything we think, speak or do , contradicts the very roots of freedom. We are happy to accept our existence the way it is…..
….In an overwhelming fear of a tyrannical GOD , seemingly waiting to strike us down, were we to waver but for a moment from the so-called path of righteousness.
……constantly being dragged down into the earth by downright absurd , atavistic and unscientific socio-cultural fetters.
….. a society where every thought of the common man reeks of indoctrination…every action , one of blind subservience.

The media, in its demonic incarnation , is writ large over our lives. We are subtly commanded on how to move….eat…drink…dress….and think. The desire to think for yourself is a banal sin…..the attempt to break free from societal norms, an almost criminal endeavour.
We are slaves….to the society : slaves to status quo.
Under grossly twisted concepts of morality, this status quo comforts us….
….. “at least , my life is not worse off for it”
….. “I have a tough life as it is….the boss screws my happiness at work…..family life is a Tull personified – love’s in the gutter…sperms in the sink”
….hence….at least don’t ask me to think for myself.
….. “after all , God made me in his own image…and hence of course I cant be expected to think.”

Sincerity…..in any form whatsoever, is conspicuous by its absence. Totally unworthy pretenders are raised onto sky high pedestals…and the likes of me and you kneel before them in ecstatic, yet undeniably moronic adulation.

We are slaves to history…. Content forever to revel in the stale memories of some distant event .
We are the worst possible excuse for intelligent life….. willingly allowing our brains to be held hostage by that bastard meme of civilization called Tradition.
Indeed…..

People are crazy and times are strange….
I’m locked in tight….I’m outta range….
I used to care….but…..
Things have changed.

On Survival....

2008-09-12T07:31:00.000-07:00

Life is all about survival….and as hideous as it sounds….if you do not survive , nothing else really matters does it ? We humans make extraordinary loud talk about having broken free from the primeval animal instincts. Even most moderate theologians, who’ve submitted to the theory of evolution, retrace all their acceptances in the loose statements of the kind.
“Agreed, man evolved from monkeys…but the distinguishing moment was when god breathed soul into a man…and thus distinguished him from all other animals.”
……and thus it is, that humans are supposed to be extraordinarily different (behaviorally i.e.) from all other species to have ever inhabited the earth in a few billion years of its existence. Then there come your way scenes such as this which make a complete mockery of the so-called altruistic, philanthropic, and ‘herd-benefit-nature’ of humans.

The photograph , which made headlines and shocked the entire world, shows an obviously malnourished ( high grade PEM) child in famine stricken Sudan, crawling desperately towards a UN food camp , with no other human in distant sight with its movement being traced and stalked by a vulture. The carrion bird awaiting the oppressive sun to drain the last dregs of energy from the child , so that it might make an uncommonly large feast…and perhaps feed its own starving younglings as well.
….and the entire scene witnessed and captured on film for posterity by a photographer, who then fled the scene…..the child was never seen or heard of again. Kevin Carter, the photographer, won the Pulitzer prize for his efforts, but took his own life a few months later in the wake of global condemnation against his so obviously inhuman action ( or should we say , the lack of action).
It is , of course , extraordinarily easy and oh-so human to follow the rest of the world in condemning Carter….but as stark and poignant as the scene may be….it merely moves me to a sardonic grin, at yet another example of mankind having failed to live up to its boast of ….well….humanity , shall we call it. Ultimately, everything is about survival. Of the child’s and the vulture’s intentions, there can of course be no doubts….. Mother Nature at its barest…a tooth and nail struggle for existence.
But what of the man…..is it really a different scenario for him….. all would say , he is no different from the vulture, hunting for a prize feast , and ultimately grotesquely inhuman….but I’d venture , that even as the bird , when faced with nature at its ugliest , he’s merely followed his natural instincts. Instincts honed over generations , from the ape… the reptile…the invertebrate ….back to the bacterium ancestor whose genes in some form or the other had passed into him. As with the vulture, all he sees is an opportunity which would give him (and his family) better scope and longer duration of feeding (by virtue of the photograph).
Many would say that the analogy is not applicable, as his chances of survival are not significantly affected were he to help the child, even after clicking the photograph….a point which merely strengthens my argument. The argument that the actions of Carter were not well-thought, calculated, cold and unemotive antipathy….but merely a numbing of all higher human neural centers and a response to the law of the jungle……of which we still retain stronger roots than any of us would care to comprehend or admit.
It is all very well to rain criticism, but place others in Carter’s position, and I’m willing to take a wager, that most people would act in a similar manner. Some of the most powerful images from history have been of disasters….wars, floods, famines, genocides, earthquakes etc . ….and those that have captured the same have won renown and repute , but I scarce think any of these people would have stopped to address the subjects of their photographs…..maybe to use their shirts to bandage a bleeding limb , or perhaps give a sip of water from their flasks.
Somehow all the childhood notions of morality, humanity, sense of duty seem to take beating when confronted by such stark scenarios….and while not all behaviour may be akin, I scarce think it is wise to predict, let alone condemn…..

After all…. “Let him not vow to walk in the dark who has not yet seen the night fall”….and human reactions in the dark , are best not predicted.

Musings in Imladris

2008-09-07T07:12:00.000-07:00

Exhausted to the last sinew , you lie staring at the richly carved wooden beam in your room at Rivendell. The arm feels right with life again.

There were dark days....old willow trees , lying naked among cold treasures at the feet of forgotten wights....knives in the dark....and Horses....especially horses.....the last memories are of horses.

The Valley of Imladris knows no darkness and in the heart of the Last Homely House , one may find rest and healing.

.....but already the scouts have departed , and eventually they will return.....alas it seems that it might be well into December before they do.

"Its all your fault , Frodo , my lad. For waiting till my birthday to set out. Funny sort of way of honouring it , not the day I'd have chosen to let the SB's into Bag End."

At times you wonder at Frodo , in the council....but Hobbits have the habit of surprising the wisest , not to mention themselves.

"Bill, you fool, " said Sam "You coul have stayed here and 'et the best hay till the new grass comes up."

.....On that last day , Bilbo gives Frodo the Mithril Shirt and the elven-blade 'Sting'.....and in front of the December fire , breaks into a slow chant....

The road goes ever on and on,

Down from the door where it began.

Now far ahead the road has gone,

And I must follow if I can.

Pursuing it with eager feet,

Until it joins some larger way.

Where many paths and errands meet,

And wither then , I cannot say.

In Reverence of Heroes....

2008-08-24T08:34:00.000-07:00

The Beijing Olympics has reaffirmed my rapidly dwindling faith (for the moment, at least) in human endeavour. Throughout our lives, indeed in the entire motley comedy that is human civilization, if there has been one constant , its been the desire to look up to heroes. To have faith in a seemingly indestructible , immutable force that can never be expected to falter….One who shall deliver the goods against a lifetime of odds.
(Perhaps one of the reasons why the concept of GOD is such a successful meme in human society…a virus that feeds of the insatiable human need for a deity to adulate.)
So, from Achilles to Einstein….from Jesus Christ to John Lennon, we have had over the course of history people, who at their zenith have held the rapt attention of massive sections of the crowd; awing all and sundry with the enormity of their deeds.
Alas , in the modern age of cynicism , suffocating ingenuity and overbearing in your face theatricality, such heroes are all to few and sparse.
All the modern day icons (or the so-called ones)….. are but paper statuettes….raised onto an exalted pedestal in a solitary sundown…..and ripped to shreds within a tenth of that time.

Our political figures…… uninspiring and untrustworthy
Writers….. Unimaginative
Media…..well , villainous.
Musicians and Poets….. long dead.
Thinkers…… ah , kidding…. One is not meant to think for oneself these days, is One?
Amidst such stifling mediocrity….it is only the sportsmen and their deeds of surpassing physical endeavour that really ignite passion.
Agreed… the Saidar of sport has been tainted by the oily murk of match fixing and doping…..there has been in recent times a visible decline in sporting achievement……The Tour was a sham….and the hitherto invincible Federer had his heel cruelly pierced by the unerring forehands of a Spaniard in overtight shorts and sleeveless T-Shirts. (For all the Rafa fans , I can only say…that to a Roman…Hannibal will hardly appear a hero.)
I was honestly not too enthusiastic about the Games……never perhaps has my judgment about sport been so drastically wrong….and, boy…am I glad about it.
A marfanoid American with an albatross arm span jumped into the pool….and emerged the greatest Olympian of all time. Opinions will vary and the likes of Nurmi , Zatopek , Owens, Nadia , Lewis…not to mention Spitz , will all feature in the debate. Whatever may be the outcome , the exploits of Phelps provided a welcome throwback to the age of heroes and that of legends ( albeit with a little help , most notably from the admirable Jason Lezack). It was sheer poetry….reminded me of the Rohirrim at cockcrow, on the field of Pelennor….
“ and then all the host burst into song and they sang as they slew for the joy of battle was upon them.”
(There’s something about the name Michael you know…..just consider the sheer number of true sporting Gods who’ve borne it…….Jordan , Schumacher , Johnson and now Phelps.)
If Phelps created a symphony in the pool, a lanky Jamaican caused a bloodbath on the sprint track. The Bird Nest stadium in Beijing provided the a suitable setting – a throwback to the Collosseum of Rome . and in stepped the mighty gladiator Usain Bolt , and simply annihilated and outrightly humiliated all opposition in a manner that scarce will have been witnessed in the history of the Olymics. (I have not seen Jesse Owens at Berlin ’36 , but I doubt even the Ebony Express could have afforded to slow down over the last 10 m , running almost sideways, arms raised in celebration.)

It was not merely the historic treble of the 100m, 200m and 4x 100 m relay in world record times , but so dominant was Bolt , that the all the opposition admitted an utter helplessness in being able to match his times were he too keep up form and fitness.
These games more than any other in recent memory, have celebrated human endeavour. Citius , Altius , Fortus ….. was never more applicable. In the likes of Bolt and Phelps , we have heroes to compare with any age from the past.
….and what with a certain ‘striped’ American staging a quiet recovery from knee surgery, there’s hope for the world yet.

Love Song to a Stranger....

2008-08-11T07:15:00.000-07:00

erased...to ward off misconceptions.

Another Harry's Bar....and the tale it tells.

2008-07-23T12:11:00.000-07:00

Wet wind on the sidewalk….I’m staring in the rain,
Walking up the streets…and walking down again.
And my feet are tired and my brain is numb,
See that broken neon sign say…. “Hey, In you come.”
Got the scent of stale beer hanging, hanging round my head.
Old dog in the corner sleeping like he could be dead.
A book of matches and a full ashtray.
Cigarette left smoking its life away.
Another Harry's bar -- or that's the tale they tell.
Harry's long gone now....and the customers as well.

Somehow the first thoughts are always of bleary Pune December mornings , exhausted to the last mitochondrion of the body - with chronic sleep deprivation and substance abuse , you are dragged off to usual business. The morning fingers nearly breaking into a rigor , at the first strike of the heavy E-string. However, as the first chords lend way to the bridge , Miruvor has coursed through the body.

“ The mist had fled and the sun rose red
Upon the church spire tall,
An old man clad in a cloak and hat
Sat stoned on a battered wall.”

The mornings have always been the most dimly lit…..an uncomfortable jamboree of uneasy slumbers in incomprehensible lectures ; amidst bursting cacophonic hospital OPD’s and sardonically satisfying pools of blood in the OT ; amidst endless cups of pepper n ginger tea in the brilliant mornings of the decadent valley nothingness.
This hasn’t been the best of years , even by the exalted standards of your generally wasted existence. You’ve lost count of the number of ‘ oh, nearly so’s’.....ever witnessing the finishing line , yet forever shy of it ( damn you …hellish hope) ; from the vividly dark nights in the U-block to the anguish ridden centre court of Wimbledon. Yet maybe such disappointments were imperative to attain such hypoxic heights of nihilism , that you boast of in any case.
True nihilism they say arises from a perfect harmony of intellectual and philosophical realization ….. yet you cannot help but feel the ever worsening decline of the intellect amidst the mundane tribulations of routine existence. Not without an end, these tribulations, perhaps….but at what cost….and will it all be too late.

Last of all , Frodo hugged Sam…. “ Maybe you too shall follow someday , for you too were a ring bearer , though for only a short while.”
….and Sam , I think , made no answer….He was never very good with words anyway.

The fell voices of Caradhras fill the air , and the company awaits …death or worse….in the shelter of the naked cliff. “ If this is shelter , then one wall and no roof make a house”, said Boromir…..and Frodo dreams
“ Snowfall on December the 12th ? There was no need to come back to report that.”
“ But I was tired Bilbo.”

Sitting cramped amidst a blinding snowstorm and not being able to stretch or move , is possibly the most physically uncomfortable situation ( in my experience at least). Every moment is a dread weight….an eternity of wait. Fire , in either form , is elusive. You almost wish there was some…..in one way or the other.
Were it not for the generous swigs of rum , it might indeed have been the death of the Halflings ( or one of them at least)….Ferpectly True ( Hic!).

It’s the Olympic year…..we’ve already had a horrible Euro and a rather forgettable Tour. Blood was spilt on the red dirt of Paris and the stake firmly driven into the heart across the channel in London. Tiger winced and grimaced and hobbled , moved practically on one leg yet somehow managed to win the US Open….but the price was paid , and he’s out for the rest of the year . Kobe was MVP and the west was won yet the Celtics thrashed the Lakers in a lop-sided Finals.
I have a bad feeling about Beijing…..amidst murky drugs taints , there is an overwhelming lack of champions….notwithstanding that Phelps might yet win 7 golds ( I don’t believe he will).

“ The King under the mountains is dead….Girion lord of Dale is dead , and I have devoured his people like a wolf among sheep”

Indeed…. the all too brief era of light seems to have passed us by…..and the grim age of poisoned reality and heartache seems to have returned. And I have not the heart to write further. Now I see the 2 Sams had quite a few things in common , not least poetry. I wonder if pipe weed had more colourful connotations…. especially given Gandalf’s ability to blow those wonderous smoke rings….and of course…
“The finest rockets ever seen.
They burst in showers of blue and green.”

The cross atop St Patrick’s never stops glowing. You fall in, fallout , curse , berate and continue ….. to exist. As an old and dear ( now lost) friend so succinctly described it once - strumming furiously….sometimes you get the elusive chord, and sometimes you don’t….even as in some corner of Harry’s Rank old mess you can hear the unmistakable strain of Gilmour trailing….
“ for killing the past…and coming back to life.”

For all your efforts , you resemble the smaller Sam , as far as expression goes , at least.

Maybe there is some truth in doomsday predictors and thinkers of the likes of Diamond…. What wouldn’t I give to see that day of shattered notions. For the moment then….sit there …. Wait…strum…roll….stroll….maybe a ship does sail…..or Tol Sirion is overrun.
And the foresight dawns upon you….nothing in your realm shall endure……

In the meantime , of course....

"Harry's still here...."

Queue to a Kill

2008-07-14T08:36:00.000-07:00

Another gemstone from Puneet....messaged across from Jhansi railway station.....

I just witnessed the great 'Indian Railway Queue Rage'.....clenched fists , racing pulses , abuses on tongue tips....and eyes on the lookout for someone who is breaching the 'discipline' and usurping their rightful place in the queue. ....but not thinking twice , if they can do the same themselves.
Shouting , spitting , swearing...while the sluggish queue crawls...blaming the man behind the counter for all that is wrong with the world.
Too bad , a license is required to posess weapons , else India's population problems could've been sorted out at these queues.

....attaboy Sax.....just keep em' coming.

Viva la Tour....Memories of Lance

2008-07-06T04:52:00.000-07:00

So, it begins again…the most grueling physical endeavour known to man. The 21 day sensational journey through the idyllic plains and the breathtaking yet unforgiving mountains of Europe.
The Tour de France is one of the pinnacles of human endeavour. The race where the sinews are fed by the will , blood is replaced in the veins by sweat…..the race where heroes are destroyed , lesser mortals engulfed by the treacherous slopes of the Alps and Pyrenees….the race where legends are born whose names endure when the memory of aught else has faded irrevocable even from the memory of the oldest greybeards.

For all the recent taint of drugs and cheats and fallen stars , the aura of the Tour does not diminish. It stands , tall and proud , with its head far above the murk of petty human frailties. Over the past 6-7 years that I have been enamoured of the event , innumerable instances spring to mind about its enduring charm. However , a couple of these stand out as memories of the undeniable nostalgia , the almost fantastical romance and of a champion for the ages….the legendary lance Armstrong.

We are fortunate people to have lived and witnessed the age of mighty sporting heroes….the age of Tiger , Schumacher , Jordan , Federer …and not the least , the age and the legend of Armstrong.
So much has been written about Lance…the miraculous recovery from metastatic testicular cancer to go on to a record 7 tour victories…on the trot , if you please. Perhaps he will never be completely free of the accusations of his detractors branding him the biggest cheat to have used drugs and yet gotten away with it. However we live in a scientific era , and till evidence is brought before us , let us shun these accusations and rejoice in some of Lance’s most memorable moments on the Tour.

2001 : The Alpe D’Huez – The Look
The ascent up the Alpe D’Huez is the most feared stage of the Tour de France….draining every ounce of energy…demanding every sinew to be stretched to the utmost. It is the stage that separates the men from the boys…the champions from the also rans. Who better to demonstrate the same than Armstrong in a single moment of unsurpassed brilliance that has gone down as probably the single greatest moment in the history of the Tour.
It was the day when Lance was to be attacked and defeated. All the big guns led by Jan Ulrich , Lance’s perennial rival were determined to use the Alpe D’huez to decimate the champion. They hit the lower slopes of the mountains with a ferocious intensity , Ulrich’s strong team doing all the pace making …..one by one, Lance’s team mates dropped off the pace….the champion itself seemed to be struggling…the rivals for once seemed to have him just where they wanted and were perhaps ready to finish him off.
Then came the legendary moment as they began the climb up the steepest slopes. Lance , at the head of the pack , looked behind and seemingly stared Ulrich right in the eyes ……it was a fleeting moment but seemed like an eternity…almost as if to say , “ I am going ….. are you coming with me?” ...
…and then he just got up from the saddle and broke away form the field in an unprecedented display of guts and stamina…and the rest of the pack…..Ulrich , Iban Mayo , Joseba Beloki simply could not follow. In that one moment , the Tour of 2001 was won and Lance cemented his name as one of the legends of the sport.

2003 : The Col de Tourmalay – The Shortcut
The other great Armstrong moment that springs to mind comes from the 2003 tour on the precipitous descent down the famous slopes of the Col de Tourmalay. The 2003 race was proving Lance’s hardest yet as he chased a record breaking 6th consecutive yellow jersey. His old rivals , especially Jan Ulrich , were out with a vengeance during the mountain stages , attacking Lance at every possible opportunity. Thus far the champion had stood up to the challenge but the first time in his incredible reign , he was starting to show frailties and vulnerability. The particular stage on the Col de Tourmalay in the Pyrenees was no different with Ulrich , Joseba Beloki , and Iban Mayo attacking him ceaselessly…..then came the moment of brilliance. The pack were haring down the downslope of the mountain at breakneck speed…..Beloki leading the way , Armstrong bang on his shoulder. All of a sudden Beloki locked his back wheel , skid and hit the ground hard. Lance , tearing down in excess of 70-80 kms per hour and barely a meter behind Beloki seemed doomed to crash into the Spaniard and end his tour. However the genius that is Armstrong veered his bike out of the road and in an incredulous display continued riding along the mountain slope with impeccable control till he met the road at a lower part…..whereupon he dismounted from the bike and rejoined the race at the same time the others of the pack reached the spot…even as he nonchalantly hit his pedal……his old teammate Tyler Hamilton gave him an enquiring and reassuring pat on the elbows.
Stuff of dreams…of legends…..of the stuff champions are made off.

Even as the 2008 tour kicks off under a cloud of the discomfiting events of last year……it is too much to hope that another Lance will appear anytime soon…or ever again….but come what may….in the enticing slopes of the Alpe D’Huez , the Hautacamb , the Col de Tourmalay…..and finally down to the breakneck sprint on the Champs Elysees….the legend of the Tour will continue.
Viva la Tour!!!

Crazy little thing called ...Hope!

2008-06-21T14:29:00.000-07:00

The most terrible thing to come out of Pandora's wretched box was Hope....far worse than all other maladies to ail the human race......brings you up with a soothing falsehood....and then drops you down into the depths of the nether world in such a manner that you are never able to rise from it again...or even desirous of trying to rise.....much better to live out our days in dark pessimism....

Would hell have any meaning if those that dwelt here dreamt not of heaven...I think not....and it is miserable hope that flings these rotten dreams to the inhabitants of hell.

What better than the black hands of Maglor to remind one of the promise and the unfulfilled hope of the light....Go forth then...sing in pain and wander the hither shores.

The Hidden Face of Humanity

2008-06-09T08:15:00.000-07:00

Scene I : Marine Drive , Mumbai at midnight.

A teenage boy steps out of a plush residential complex overlooking the breathtaking Queen Necklace , walking a perfectly groomed Spitz on a leash. After barely going a few steps , he notices the imminent intention of the canine to relieve itself ; and places a piece of newspaper immaculately beneath the posteriors of his pet. Subsequently after the routine is complete , the boy neatly folds the paper around the malodorous contents and drops the same in the nearest bin. Thereafter meeting my look of incredulous admiration with a quick smile , he is quickly lost amidst the midnight Saturday crowd.

Scene II : Mumbai Chattrapati Shivaji Terminus - 1500 hrs.

Amidst a torrential downpour and surrounded by masses of Indian humanity in their unfettered rage and angst , I wait with fast ebbing patience to board the train and be rid of the claustrophobic crowd. With almost sadistic amusement I look down at the empty tracks and stare wondrously at the wide and varied filth lying there. From biscuit packets and chocolate wrappers to empty whiskey bottles and even a dead rat , the tracks , seem to mirror the warty underbelly of all that signifies India.

Even as I watch....SPLAT....goes an improvised newspaper plate , dispersing the remnants of a frugal midday meal into the ever forgiving drain ; followed by 2-3 generous contributions of betel stained, and in all possibility, AFB positive expectoration. Standing next to me is an old 'baba' , looking distantly like a severely malnourished Luciano Pavarotti , rescued after years of struggle in the trenches of France in WWI , might have done - complete with tattered rags , grimy hands and hollow sunken eyes , signifying if anything , the utter lack of any real purpose in his existence. Before I could open my mouth to remark , the inimitable Puneet next to me saves me the requirement

...."Baba has just got rid of all the troubles that were plaguing his life....the plate and the sputum....he is now cleansed of all his sins...and at complete inner peace with himself."
....and then as if to reaffirm the aforesaid, the old man dipped and rinsed his hands in a pool of holy water ( read.... a muddy rain puddle on the dirty platform) , wiped his mouth in the same purgatory , and lay himself down and slept like a baby amidst all the cacophony of the surrounding humanity.

Oscar Wilde wrote - "Romance is a privilege of the rich". I am tempted to add ..... so is etiquette , civic sense , conscience , morality and ethics ......in other words , all the supposed behavioral patterns that separate humans from their so called lesser evolved brethren. As survival pressures enmesh their web tighter, the weak societal memes are shed unabashedly in exchange for those, evidently more suited for immediate survival. What cares our old man about global warming, melting glaciers, booming oil prices and vanishing food stocks?
For all our loud boasts of conquest over nature and its laws , we are unfortunately fettered as tight as the cavemen ages ago….. simply that we choose to ignore it or bury our heads like the ostrich in ill conceived notions of superiority.
We aren’t better than other organisms really….just dressed comically for a pantomime of sorts…..indeed …. “All the world’s a zoo, and all the men and women merely caged animals” ….. the cages which are only torn down when faced by the bare realities of life and the struggle for survival.

“But where shall wisdom be found? And where is the place of understanding? Man knoweth not the price thereof ; neither is it found in the land of the living….for the price of wisdom is above rubies.”

Tagged again!!!

2008-05-31T08:25:00.000-07:00

To do:1. Pick up the nearest book.
2. Open to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the next three sentences.
5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged you.
...................
1. Pediatric Neuroimaging ...by James Barkovich....which i was using to make my upcoming presentation on neurometabolic disorders.
2. Page 123.....random shit on...."toxic and metabolic disorders"......coincidental wouldnt you say.
3. Line 5 : Positron emission tomography and SPECT may be useful in establishing the diagnosis of Neuronal Ceroid Lipofushinosis.
4. Next 3 lines........
Severe reduction in metabolism in all the cortical and sub-cortical structures have been shown in 18F-fluorodeoxyglucose PET studies. Regional analysis shows marked bilateral hypometabolism , particularly in the calcarine , lateral occipital , temporal cortices and in the thalami. In infantile NCL , SPECT using 99 Tc-hexamethypropyleneamineoxime showed bilateral anterior frontal, posterior temporoparietal and occipital hypoperfusion.
5. Whom to tag...ok ....Rupeet ,Shyam , Ms Solo , Bhishmadev and Ms Phoebe....and I was tagged by Ankita.

The Sound of Her Wings

2008-05-19T12:05:00.000-07:00

Life, at times shocks you into stunned silence….for all your misplaced claims of “been there…seen that”…..and unemotive cold-heartedness…..there are times in the practice of this wretched profession, where you are reduced to a helpless pathetic bystander…..left shaking your head at the enormity of all that we yet do not comprehend….and have no answers for.
The other day I saw an 18 year old boy stricken with Ewing’s sarcoma….a particularly aggressive malignancy of the bone, and pretty much incurable at that. Wherefore the youngster….who should have had the whole world before his feet….in an instant finds himself staring at a tumultous 6-8 months, maybe less , of life. Already stricken with the debilitating course of the disease, as the days progress, the cancer will slowly eat away into his bones, causing sustained pain of a nature that cannot be explained to one who has not felt it....and through the course of it all , he will be given chemotherapy that will drive away the appetite , cause intense nausea and wretching along with complete hair loss and a mileu of other problems.
Then there was the newborn infant, born prematurely at 30 weeks of gestation, who came through a torrid spell of nearly fatal birth asphyxia followed by sepsis, kept only by some extraordinarily heroic neonatal care – yet to what purpose??? The child is likely to have suffered irreversible hypoxic brain damage during his cataclysmic perinatal course….which in all probability shall culminate in one or all of the following: severe mental retardation, partial to complete hearing loss , severe lag in motor development ( i.e. inability to sit up , walk , grasp objects and so on)….to make matters worse , he is likely to survive to well into his 2nd decade if not further….pretty much as a human vegetable….you cant help ask yourself….is life the only thing that is sacrosanct , and does the quality of the same have no bearing whatsoever !
For a moment then, leave aside all the possible nefarious possibilities and unethical practices, but purely from the so-called humanitarian view (let aside even science) , I think there should be a provision to allow one to pull the plug…on his own , or a dear one’s inevitably wasted and traumatized existence. I can scarce fathom the inexplicable desire to clutch vainly at the flimsiest of straws.

If this is sanctity….grant me damnation!

“Death is before me today,
Like the recovery of a sick man.
Like going forth into a garden after sickness.
Death is before me today,
Like the odor of myrrh,
Like sitting under a sail in a good wind.
Death is before me today,
Like the course of a stream
Like the return of a man
From the war galley to his house.”

Walk with her , humanity….hear the gentle beating of the mighty wings.

On Family....

2008-05-14T09:15:00.000-07:00

" The bonds of family bind both ways. they bind us up, support us, help us , and they also are a bond from which it is difficult , perhaps impossible to extricate oneself"

I wonder how many people really find solace in their family....and how many just go along with the whole 'family' -thing because its the socially acceptable thing to do.........and for the previleged few , of course , the family is like a gilded insurance policy - a veritable stariway to heaven.
Well hypocrisy is the human way after all.....thoughts and convictions are scarcely meant to be practised in the eternal struggle for social acceptance and recognition.

The Crime of being 'Single'

2008-05-04T04:32:00.000-07:00

It is a veritable crime to be single in today’s world. A status of single entails that you have nothing to do , no passions , obviously no commitments and therefore are the natural choice to do all the undesirable , time consuming , and ‘after work hours’ jobs that the more privileged ( read married…committed…betrothed and so on) lot cannot take on.

I have lost count of the number of times people have ‘requested’ me to do a bum job assigned to them…..

…. “ I have to go shopping for jewellery with my wife”

….. “Its festival day tomorrow ,and the gods will be displeased if I don’t celebrate it with my family. You of course are an atheist , without any family and a culture-phobe at that ; so of course , it doesn’t matter to you, does it ?”….well , thank you for kindly forgetting that my free time and solitude matters to me…..and whether I use it to declare my infallible servitude to god or use it just to lie supine on my bed and stare at the ceiling is none of your bloody business!!!

….. “ Distant cousins of the third degree are visiting and hence….”

….. “my child’s birthday party”…well excuse me for not feeling thrilled and wishing your child the best of health!!!!
….. the most exasperating one …. “its Feb 14th tomorrow”….as if the tyrant sitting up above has promised special sustained orgasms for those who join in the mass stupidity of other humans in the nauseating celebration of ‘luurrvvee’ with their partners.

…As if these ridiculous explanations were not enough, so-called single individuals are treated with an extraordinary racist outlook…almost as if to say…. “you wanted to be in our position , you’re dying to be in our position….and since you obviously are unlucky or incapable , you deserve to pay for your utter worthlessness in society by serving more worthy citizens like us.”
The venerable organization where I serve takes this sentiment to further extremes..... married people are entitled houses , more luggage allowance during moves , extra allowances in general….and the crowning glory….given more leeway in leave.
Poor guys like us are left to face downright insulting remarks … “Why on earth do you want leave , you’re not even married. Look at him, he has a wife and a small child.”

Well, I have a dream…and not much unlike that of Martin Luther King Jr. That some day I and others like me shall be granted equal status in society , and this without having to remove the ‘single’ tag from my bio-data. That one day our abuse in society will be viewed on an equal platform as that of homosexuals , the non-whites and the socially backward.
To the so-called privileged classes I can only point my extended middle digit and the words of John Lennon…
“You may say I’m a dreamer…but I’m not the only one!”

Tagged....

2008-04-06T06:24:00.002-07:00

This is in response to a tag game that apparently does the rounds on the blog site...so I go along.....
1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER:

Juno….from a purely human relationships point of view…yeah , decent watch…but if the film’s supposed to have some kind of social message, then I either missed it….or the makers got it horribly wrong.

2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?

Diagnostic Ultrasound by Carol Rumac….but I guess it doesn’t count….among non-technical stuff , I’ve been revising Jared Diamond’s “Why is Sex Fun”….splendid read that explores the evolutionary aspects of human sexuality.

3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?

Chess , of course…bridge better than that (but it aint a board game)….also Cluedo , Scotland Yard , Monopoly and Ludo.

4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?

Sportstar…the only magazine I have read for any length of time and have the patience to complete…in general not a magazine kinda person.

5. FAVORITE SMELLS?

The inside of my 15 year old much battered , moth eaten copy of Lord of the Rings…transports me instantaneously to Middle Earth. That apart….mary jane , old monk , El Paso by Lomani , and the smell of pretty much anything clean and far from the maddening crowd.

6. FAVORITE SOUND?
Of Silence….
…..also bluesy guitaring , baritone crooning and Jack Nicholson speaking .

7. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?

….god and religion and social customs replacing scientific and logical thought.
….indoctrination of impressionable young children.
....hollow patriotism bieng bandied in your face by people who couldnt care less.
....having to communitcate with people you couldnt care less about in the general course of everyday life.

8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE?

…..fuck….goddamit.

9. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?

…Not given to fast food in any kind or form….much rather prefer a lazy drink and steak.

10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?

My favourite question….hee haw
Lets see…
Eblis o’ Shaugnessey
Turin Turambar dagnir glauranga
Rand al’Thor
Heathcliff
Sherlock Holmes
…that’s the guys…for a girl…
Death

11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY I'D...?

Lets see…firstly give up Medicine…
Then….open a rock n roll themed café….name it “Stairway to Heaven” or “Wonderful Tonight”….get my own ensemble band…and play the blues and rock n roll on weekends.
Or possibly…..
Buy the Arsenal football club !!!!

12. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?
….when I’m stoned.

13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?

…of course….I also wear…pink polka dotted underpants….watch all the saas-bahu serials (even the reruns)…bunk work to watch Sharukh Khan-Yash Chopra films (or for that matter most bollywood films)……pray to GOD 60 times a day....dance nude in a tub full of ox-blood every full moon night so that HE / SHE / IT does not send me to hell….ANYTHING ELSE????

14. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY?

hmm…inconvenient…mostly.

15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?

…if the childhood dinky cars are discounted ( I had at least 15 of those)…then none yet…fingers crossed…hopefully within the next 2 months.

16. FAVORITE DRINK?

Water….with Old Monk / Bacardi / Smirnoff….soda with single malt scotch….chilled white wine….bloody mary….heady beer on summer afternoons......strong coffee…black tea.

17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD

.....….learn reading music….master the bass and classical and blues guitaring…..work on my ‘nipped in the bud’ drumming skills.....also….perhaps….write a book !!!!

18. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI?

….I only eat meat.

19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE?

…pretty irrelevant question…considering I’ve nearly lost all of it.

20. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN.

Jamshedpur…Kolkata….Delhi….Pune….Jalandhar…Lucknow…and…some god-forsaken wilderness in the Kashmir Valley.
( lived in..I’ve equated to…spent more than 30 days in one go)….
…also spent considerable amounts of time in…Ranchi…Bombay…Srinagar.

21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?

Football….Tennis…F1…Golf….Basketball….Rugby….MotoGP….and cricket when Australia’s playing…..can pretty much watch each and very sport.

22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU

.….that she’s from Kolkata….likes rock n roll….and doesn’t believe in god (or at least looks like it).

23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?

….I’m scared to look….mostly books…books…..and more books....lying there coz there isnt room in room to display them.

24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN?

….I’d much rather be spared the inconvenience of being born at all….to quote…I forgot who….Bertrand Russell..or Douglas Adams…perhaps…. “…considering that I’d been dead for millions of years before I’d been born and had suffered not the slightest bit of inceonvenience from it”.

25. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL?

night owl…and also very early morning…it’s the sun high up on the sky that I dislike.

26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?

…neither….dark side of the moon…or better…dark side of the LOON!!!

27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?

……any place…away from the mad rush if humanity.

28. FAVORITE PIE?

Sheperd’s….

29. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?

…..all said and done…good ol’ vanilla…better….if its spiked with a dash of rum or khalua.

30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST?

...My blog’s pretty much a dead end…I don’t expect anyone to respond.

Dictionary of a Cynic

2008-04-01T13:08:00.000-07:00

I was tagged on to this by an unknown lady's blog....and the idea was exceedingly fascinating...hence here goes...an A-Z of all that matters...causes sentiments...passions...smiles and hurts.

A …..is for AFMC….the ol’ girl resplendent after nigh on 60 years….who says the flame has died…so what if there are no bikes for the cadets….so what if they actually attend classes and clinics …so what if they study any other time beyond 30 days preceding a university exam….there’s something imperishable about the air….the walls….the gardens……aahh…..quite simply…the show will go on.

B….is for Baggins…..quite simply the best surname in the real and fictitional world combined. I’m sorry Bilbo , ol’ chap….there was nothing Tookish that made you probe William’s pocket , riddle Gollum in the dark , ‘Attercop’ and ‘Tomnoddy’ the nasty spiders of Mirkwood , and not to mention engage Smaug in banter only hobbits can…it was all Baggins….we loves it…we loves it…we loves it forever!!!!

C…..is for Coffee….of which, I get through 8-10 cups in a day…..of any sort and kind…filter , black or machine brewed.

D…..is for Darwin , Dawkins , Dennett , Diamond…..the scholars who gave , structured and simplified the theory of life for us ….. Evolution....the simplest , most beautiful though abominable yet inescapable truth about everything that exists ..and the way it exists.
Also…for Death…the eternal love of my life…oh to look into those eyes…to hear the sound of her wings
Also…for DNA…..the magic molecule of life.
Also…for Dylan ( Bob)…the greatest poet of the 20th century ( Nobel prize or no)
…wow …in other words….D was simply the most DIFFICULT.

E….is for Einstein…the man who changed the way the world looks….the way it functions…and pretty much brought to a naught all that existed the way it did before his time…….all things are relative…but in human society …he seems destined to remain the only constant.

F….is for Football…the most beautiful game on the planet. A toast (and looking forward to many more) to the lip smacking Premiership / La Liga / Serie A weekends , late Tuesday and Wednesday night UCL fixtures….not to mention the summer Euros and WC’s.
For a long suffering fan like me…here’s hoping…
…Arsenal win a champions league title
…Holland finally win a World Cup
…Christiano Ronaldo and Didier Drogba get banned for life for diving and cheating.
And…
…Sir Alex finally hangs up his boots at Old Trafford.

G…is for god…..to sum it simply in the words of Richard Dawkins….
“……. arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction : jealous and proud of it; a petty unjust unforgiving control freak; a vindictive bloodthirsty ethnic cleanser; a misogynist, homophobic, racist, infanticidal, genocidal, filicidal, pestilential, megalomaniac, sado-masochistic, capriciously malevolent bully. Those of us schooled from infancy in his ways become insensitive to his horror.”

H…..is for humans…an absurd species that has lived for barely 50,000 years in the 5 billion year history of life on a tiny planet in the solar system of an insignificant sun, located on the fringes of a rather average sized galaxy amidst infinitesimally larger galaxies , stars , and black holes of the known universe…..yet a species which believes that the entire universe and everything within it along with the laws of physics that govern it , are made solely for the purpose that it could exist.
….to quote from Gaiman… “Ah , humanity ! You never cease to amaze me.”

I…..is for Intelligence…or the utter lack of it….which characterizes….the ‘H’ mentioned above….which is inspite of the best evolutionary efforts of massive calvarial and cerebral development. Yet humans remain , mired in petty hegemonies , entrenched in atavistic unscientific societal norms , and utterly resistant to intellectual and philosophical progress of any kind.

J…is for Jimmy ( Page ) , Jimi ( Hendrix) , John ( Lennon , Bonham , Paul Jones , Fogarty etc etc) , (Mick) Jagger , Janis Joplin ( the only double J) , Joan (Baez) , Jim ( Morrison) , James ( Hetfield)….the eternal imperishable spirits of rock n roll….who enable me to clamber out of bed every bleary morning…sustain me through my most trying and testing moment each noisome day…and soothe and lull me into the arms of Murphy at the end of it.

K….is for Kilroy…the ubiquitous , all-pervading , all knowing , rum guzzling , chain smoking , guitar toting ,Floyd quoting, rascally imp….who incidentally also manages to save human lives by practicing medicine.

L….is for Loyola….13 of the very best years…in the very best school….

“Those were the days my friend,
We thought they’d never end;
We’d sing and dance forever and a day.
We’d live the life we choose,
We’d fight and never loose,
For we were young and sure to have out way.”

M….is for Morpheus….the Sandman…the eponymous hero of Gaiman’s cult work….to his endless bretheren…the Corinthian , the immortal Hob Gadling …and all the rest….
Indeed… what power would even hell have if those that dwelt there dreamt not of heaven.

N…..is for Night……time for rest…for musings…time for the blues….to walk under the enchanted stars….and marvel at the lights of ages gone by.....to sleep…in peace for some…in angst for others…awaiting the arrival of the tyrannical sun.

O…is for Old Monk…the elixir of life….and my steadfast companion…whether it be through the travails of an uncertain final year at MBBS , bone chilling winters of Kashmir , or at the fag end of a weary day’s toil in residency.

P…is for Poetry…..anything…from the nonsensical ‘Man in the Moon’….to the immortal verses of Shelley, Keats and Coleridge.

Q…is for quantum mechanics….and the scarce understood, crazy world of strings, quarks and uncertainty, which blasphemous as it sounds , sets the ball rolling for everything that occurs within the universe…..I’m sorry Mr. Einstein , but if such an entity does exist.…it would appear that god DOES play dice with the universe.

R….is for Rock n Roll….the greatest discovery ( or invention if you like) in the history of human civilization…..the language of rebellion….of angst…..of sarcasm…of passion….of romance !!!!

S…is for Schumacher.... In memory of those glorious sunday evenings where the master would make a mockery of the rest of the field. 2 years on ,the sport is not the same…will never be again. A lifetime of my earnings to see one final ‘Schumi-Leap’ atop the victory podium.

T…is for Tolkien…for giving me Middle-Earth…my home away from home for the best part of the past 15 years….for giving me Felagund and Frodo….Aragorn and Aldarion…...Luthien and Arwen…Gondolin and Gondor….for making me weep , rejoice , bleed , feast , sing and philosophise over the countless revisions of the tales from the 3 ages. “Let us at last praise the colonizers of dreams.”

U…is for Us….us..us....and them...them...them
......and after all , we're only ordinary men!!!

V…is for Valhalla…and the childhood tales…..of feasting gods , bloodstained battles , rainbow bridges….the Thunderer , the All-Father and the glorious legions in their train.

W…is for Warne. ...For every bamboozling leg break , googly , flipper, zooter and have what you may that made him the best ever to ply the glorious art of spin. Just sit back and cast your mind back to the moments of magic….Mike Gatting, Basit Ali , Daryl Cullinan, Andrew Strauss…thanks for the memories, Shane!

X…is for X-rays…the mysterious discovery of Wilhelm Roentgen…that revolutionized medical science ….in whose company I am destined to spend the rest of my attenuated life.

Y…..is for Yesterday…in the fond memories of which, we while away our precious todays.

Z…is for Zeppelin.... In the world of rock n roll…first there is Led Zep…..then there’s daylight……..for the most haunting compositions , the most monstrous guitar riffs , the most outrageously orgasmic crooning , and sheer death defying , hell raising, earth shaking drumming……unquestionably the gilded stairway to rock n roll heaven.

'Spit' - Fire

2008-03-09T06:00:00.000-07:00

An sms from Puneet at his ‘phlegmatic’ best . I just had to put it down.

Had we Indians discovered some economically productive use for human saliva , we would have been the richest country in the world. I am at the railway station and amusing myself with the amazing potential Indians have to ‘spit’ - all colours and amazing maneuvers. Unfortunately, the only thing most can produce in sputum is AFB

AFB – acid fast bacillus….syn – Mycobacterium tuberculosis (the tubercle bacillus).

INSOMNIA

2008-02-15T10:00:00.000-08:00

Tossing and turning, and
rendering drenching wet,
The pillows and sheets with midnight sweat.
Though waking terrors
Plague the mind,
Easier to bear, and far
Less fearful, you find;
Than ghoulish figures that in your dreams are met.

The unsleeping pupil, dark and glazed, as if belladonna stained;
The restless heart, galloping, like some jungle beast untamed.
The mouth bathed and soured
By the ever rising, burning bile,
While the mind walks , ceaseless
Amidst some distant defile.
In such catatonia, you pray in fervour, for the night to wane.

Some moonstruck lover, bemoaning in sighs, his mistress cold,
Or cancerous crone, in writhing pain, yet vainly clutching the mortal fold.
The fallen lord, who lately
Hope in the bottle hath sought.
Or the uneasy, uncertain crown,
In the throes of unwilling battle, caught.
All lie in angst, and in the gloom, their uneasy sorrows mould.

The frenzied brain , glowing bright, in unimaginable hues,
Like artist in desperation, seeking his long forgotten muse.
Gates are opened ,
And instantaneously shut;
While teeming multitudes,
In senseless hunt
Ungirt the mind, and ‘mong the nightly demons, set it loose.

The body is drugged, the senses numbed, yet sleep remains,
As distant, as bright sunlight , from stygian plains.
Then the first gleam
Of a hopeless dawn,
Plunges deeper, the
Unrelenting , insomniac thorn;
From the limb and soul, all semblance, of life blood drains.

Have you ever seen the rain

2008-01-28T08:59:00.000-08:00

“I am a brain , Watson. Everything else about me is vestigial and serves only to feed my brain.” – the incomparable Sherlock Holmes

Oh to be Holmes : to dwell in the uninhibited ecstasy of the glorious intellect , to be rid forever of that mansbane passion called emotion, to bind the truant heart in bonds of cold hard, logic and unemotive , calculated reason.
On a time , not so long ago , you deemed humans of all manner miserable : intellectually retarded and emotionally wretched. Yet , you could never stave the ‘human’ yoke off yourself. For all your chest thumping claims of misanthropy , your roots remained firmly entrenched within the same emotions you so loathed. Into every hurdle life had perchance strewn across your path , you stumbled haplessly ; and emerged irrevocably scarred yet none the wiser. Thereupon , true to your kind, you took to chiding life , the people and all else around you that the warped mind could conceptualise.

Yesterday, and days before, The sun is cold and rain is hard,I know; been that way for all my time.Till forever, on it goes,
Through the circle, fast and slow,I know; it cant stop, I wonder

Yet it never occurred to you that mayhap there was nothing wrong with the paths that you trod , or those that strode alongside you. Perhaps those paths were never meant for you. Since the time you held converse with your own reason , the one thing that struck you was how your paths always seemed sundered from those around you. Be it the family, friends or the ‘so called gods’ , your lot has always been aboard the ‘lonesome train’.
It is something you were always at peace with , indeed something you were proud off.
Ever the calvin-child , enconsed comfortably in the flights of your limitless fantasy.
Why then should you seek for the fruits that await the end of the journey more often undertaken , when you have it not within you to bear the toil or the briars on the road. When the landscape seems irksome to you , why do you expect a restful bed at the eve.
Matters of the primitive limbic centres were never meant for you. Your cortex has served you well till now, and will be with you when aught else has deserted and fled. Holmes is more fitting to your kind , not even the hewer of the caves and certainly not the one-handed vagabond.
So , my boy…keep your reason to yourself , let the mind do the thinking . The other organ was never the strongest part of you in any case , horribly fickle and disastrously treacherous. Bind it hard and true and heed not its poisoned whispers and you shall do well.

The Gentlemen of the Game

2008-01-07T10:38:00.000-08:00

So , you have it all over again. The loudmouths crying out loud, whatever happened to the gentleman’s game. Racism and sledging, gamesmanship and poor spirit – Sydney provided us with dollops of one of the more unsavoury moments of the glorious history of the sport. The mind immediately casts back to none other than the Battle of Adelaide , 1932, the third test of the infamous bodyline series , more appropriately nicknamed ‘The Ugliest Test’. The tales which came out from there have endured into cricketing folklore…notably Jardine’s “Well bowled , Harold” after Larwood struck his opposite captain Bill Woodfull over the heart….and not to forget Woodfull’s retort to the English Manager , Sir Pelham Warner , “There are 2 teams out there on the field , one is playing cricket and the other isn’t”.
Many other instances come to the mind , where ugliness overtook spirit and victory was deemed as important than honour itself. However I prefer to think of the glorious instances ( by far the more superior in terms of sheer numbers) where cricket appropriately earned itself the sobriquet of being a gentleman’s game.
What better way to start than from the bodyline series itself. For all of the animosity Jardine’s troops faced, 2 englishmen stood out for their steadfastness and commitment to the honour of the sport. Iftikar Ali Khan Pataudi , who after scoring a century in the first test, took ship back home midway through the series, so disappointed was he in his captain’s battle plan; and Gubby Allen, the English fast bowler who refused to bowl bodyline throughout the series and such was the force of his character that even the indomitable Jardine could not drop him to a drinks man.
How about Gary Sobers winning the toss against Ajit Wadekar, and conceding the same to the latter who claimed to have won it himself , without even hinting at a re-toss…that too one-nil down in the series , if you please. Gundappa Vishwanath’s recalling of a dismissed Bob Taylor at the jubilee test in Bombay is part of folklore, as is Courtney Walsh’s refusing to run out Salim Jaffer in the last over of the world cup match in 1986…..which resulted in a loss for the Windies and their being bundled out of the tournament.

The ever-ready modern day doomsday predictors just need reminding themselves of one of the most poignant scenes in recent cricketing history. Andrew Flintoff dismissing Micheal Kasprowicz to win the 2nd ashes test of the 2005 series and helping England draw level at the expense of Brett Lee’s heroic rearguard resistance. While the rest of the poms were going cock a hoop on the field , Freddie’s first reaction was to turn and put his arm around a disconsolate Lee down on his haunches. Such are the sights that still make the eyes brim over on a sports field.

Innumerable other instances come to mind of the true gentlemen of the game…Victor Trumper scoring a double century with a bat offered to him by an expectant young fan (just for the record, the shoulder of the bat broke when he was on 90 , but Victor refused a replacement).
However the story that is closest to my heart is one from the legendary English batsman Jack Hobbs. Having been clearly bowled but ruled not out as the umpire was unsighted and unsure whether the ball had rebounded of the keeper’s gloves , the dismay of the fielding team was palpable (who can blame them , when Hobbs was batting). A completely mystified Hobbs (such was his concentration that he was totally ignorant of the events around him) turned around and enquired politely of the keeper , “Pray , what’s the fuss all about?”. The keeper in all his modesty replied to the great man, “You’ve just been bowled sir, but the umpire hasn’t given you out.”
“In that case,” replied Hobbs , in a typically unplussed manner , “I guess I had better be going” and casually as ever, walked back to the pavilion.
….ah, we survived Bodyline ….Sydney is a mere blimp on the surface…but the game belongs to the Trumpers and the Hobbs’ and the Vishwanaths. Just for the record, the gentlemen never ever vacated the building.

Mandatory Rural Service - a Conundrum

2007-12-17T09:09:00.000-08:00

A lot of furore has been created over the health ministry’s proposal to make a year’s rural service mandatory , post internship for the award of the MBBS degree. Understandably so , many might say – yet in spite of much introspection and soul searching , I have personally not been able to decide which way to put my weight . Claims on both sides have some iron clad points in favour of them. The solutions are not that simple , as the roots go deeper than most people realize , or if they do realize , then do not like to get their hands messy probing into such depth.
As a young medico , who has witnessed the struggles of the system , I still get more than the odd pang of guilt at the overwhelming shambles in which the health care setup of the country lies (yeah ! yeah ! Call me humbug !) . Lets examine in detail both sides of the coin and then attempt to offer possible solutions.

THE HEALTH SETUP & MAGNITUDE OF THE PROBLEM

At the outset let us examine the care setup in the country – to state that it is pitiful would an understatement. Why this should be so in spite of 60 years of democracy and , as we would be led to believe , a booming economy , is beyond the scope of this discussion. Dedicated volumes could be written on the same. Let it suffice for the moment that the population is bursting at the seams , basic sanitation is conspicuous by its absence , and the captains of the men of death – the likes of Messers Tuberculosis and Malaria are remarshalling their forces with hitherto unseen hostility. Add to it India’s overwhelming participation in the propagation of global pandemics like HIV and infectious hepatitis. There is a shocking absence of basic obstetric care with unacceptable rates of maternal and infant mortality even in the urban centers. The brunt of this is borne in the rural areas, from where, a sizeable number of figures do not even reach the health statistician’s desk.
The infrastructure in the primary health setup is grossly inadequate with the staff lacking proper training and experience. Feeding off this lack in trained health care personnel and the prevalent socio-cultural superstitions and taboos , quacks abound in multitudes and indulge in downright barbaric criminal practices. Back in undergraduate days , our professors would come up with tales witnessed by them in the rural setup such as administration of intravenous milk , use of sharpened metallic objects as abortifacients and so on. Is there anything to suggest that such practices are still not prevalent in today’s day and age.
It goes without saying that the 2 prime requirements of the rural health setup are trained personnel and optimal infrastructure. A trained medical officer is the natural leader of such a system. Presently the number of doctors in the primary health system are markedly deficient and hence the attempted move to make rural service compulsory for all doctors. It is logical that the fresh crop of doctors should be the ones to attempt to bridge the gulf between the rural and urban health setup. Ideally they would be the ones to initiate some kind of scientific and ethical protocol to combat the terrifying practices that are prevalent. At the very least , sanitary conduct of labour , recognition and management of major emergencies, basic environmental hygiene , family planning , reproductive and child health should form part of the charter of responsibilities of the medical officer.

So as myopic as ever , we pass the legislation to make a year’s rural service mandatory and then sit back and give ourselves a congratulatory pat. Before even starting with the case of the doctors , the move will not achieve anything significant simply because of the sheer lack of infrastructure. Our rural centres lack basic amenities such as oxygen cylinders, emergency drugs like adrenaline and atropine , iv fluids and ambulance facilities for urgent referral to higher centres….the list is simply endless. You put 5 doctors per PHC and they will not be able to make any difference with the existing infrastructure.

DOCTORS – FORCED HUMANITARIANS ?

Let us now consider the case of the students and the young doctors. The problem is quite simple here – as the present scenario stands , the best a medico can do post schooling is 5 ½ yrs for MBBS plus 3 yrs of PG , equaling a minimum of 9 years till the completion of post graduation, which in today’s setup is absolutely imperative for any decent employment with some sort of permanence. However , even this arithmetic is for the select few , what with many colleges and universities still exceeding the basic 5 ½ year stipulated period for the completion of the MBBS curriculum. As for PG, it is either the exceptionally brilliant ,or the monetarily privileged who are able to secure a seat in the first attempt , with most students requiring at least 2 attempts and many going on to 3 or more.
So you have a young doctor , typically from a middle class Indian family , nearly 30 till he/she is sufficiently able to sustain himself independently. Just imagine – nigh on 10 to 12 years of dependence on the family post schooling. Most of us would cringe at the thought of the same , especially with the booming corporate and IT sectors which provide lucrative incomes at much younger ages. For all that has been written about the BPO industry, the fact remains that it offers quick money, easily the biggest drawing card for the modern youth. Already school going children are shying away from pursuing medicine as a career. The reasons for the same are the ones I have just named – too long a time to get settled coupled with inadequate financial remuneration. If such a thing did exist upon a time , the so called nobility of the profession and work for a ‘social cause’ is perhaps the last thing the macroscopic majority of students look for in a prospective career. I am not trying to be judgmental here as everyone is completely free to choose a career as per their priorities in life. However the fact remains that there is a steady decline in the quality of the students entering medicine , ironically the one branch where basic intelligence and quality should not be compromised.
In the midst of all this , the mandatory clause for rural service has implications deeper than simply 365 days of physical service. The frenetic pace at which medical science moves has given a new dimension to the age old method of studying . The internet now forms an integral part of the same along with the revered monstrous textbooks. With the ever increasing trend of postgraduate medical exams being centered around molecular biology , genetics and receptor mechanisms coupled with numerous online coaching services and preparatory exams – the one year hiatus would just widen the gulf in front of the student to secure that elusive PG seat. In addition it would spell the virtual death knell for the sizeable amount that have their eyes fixed on foreign universities for their post graduation. Sitting in a primary health care centre in some far flung corner of the country is hardly the ideal way to prepare for USMLE.

SOLUTIONS ???

Well , I have no idea whatsoever else perhaps I would never be asking so many questions. As I have mentioned earlier , the roots are much deeper than we care to admit , and embedded firmly in the age old socio-cultural norms that shall forever prove the nemesis of the country. Merely posting a large number of doctors to rural centres is hardly the answer to cope with the health care problem of a country with a sixth of the world’s total population , and yet spending less than 3% of its GDP on health services. It is only an ad hoc measure akin to reservations for the backward classes. The basic issues of education of the masses , population control , environmental sanitation are the ones to be tackled , and unfortunately the government happily chooses to play the ostrich when confronted by these issues , by burying its head in the ground.
On a different level, perhaps we might look to revamp the entire system of medical education in India , amalgamating post graduate and undergraduate training, similar to the system followed in the US.
It is tempting to say that doctors should be paid better for their government services but as ever this idea is laughable. The salaries proffered by the government health services are a poor joke when compared to the dividends reaped in the private sector.
Can we perhaps privatize the health sector in some manner , if not anything else , at least operationally while the policy making can still be done at the government level. There would be many hindrances here which I’m not aware of and will require the likes of my economist friend Shyam to enlighten us. The one thing I am sure of is that though the cost it will incur would not be acceptable to the powers that be, it will at the very least ensure better cost-effectiveness and cost benefit.

For the moment I end here . Further ideas might be forthcoming on hearing views to the questions I have put forth.

England , blessed England !!!

2007-11-25T10:00:00.000-08:00

In fond memory of English Football, which died , on this, the 21st day of November, 2007. Deeply mourned by a large circle of faithful friends and followers. The body will be cremated and the ashes taken to….???? Zagreb?

Well, surely even Fred ‘The Demon’ Spofforths’ bowling out of England for 70 odd at the Oval, 1882 , to secure the first ever test win for Australia on English soil could not have been more dramatic for the purist and the neutral observer , or more heartbreaking for the endlessly ceaselessly suffering English sports fan.
Just when you thought, post world cup , that English Football , with all the alleged talent, and undoubted wealth at their disposal couldn’t stoop lower , Steve McLaren and his motley crew came up with the most unbelievable, comical and downright ridiculous qualifying campaign culminating in the bewilderingly disastrous final match in a soaked drenched Wembley.
Wherefore did all the gladiators of the so called ‘best football league in the world’ vanish….your Lampards, Gerrards, ….and …who else ????
With Owen , Rooney , and Terry out injured and Rio Ferdinand out suspended…all of a sudden the real star names in the English starting lineup had dwindled to a mere 2 individuals, and that too, ones who had repeatedly been found wanting on the international stage in a real pot-boiler crunch scenario. Add to that the venerable McLaren’s repeated refusal to start with David Beckham…..
…agreed, the man can’t run fast…can’t kick with his left foot , can’t dribble , can’t head, can’t defend, has a tendency to get sent off….but he still is a better player than the likes of the Shaun Wright Philipses, Gareth Barrys , and Michael Carricks of this world.
One just has to consider statistics and look into history to consider Beckham’s importance to the national squad , in which over the past 10 yrs only the redoubtable and all too sadly, forever injured , Michael Owen merits a name ahead of him in the teams more memorable moments…be it the legendary 5-1 victory at Munich , the 1-0 over Argentina in the 02’ WC, or the 90th minute free kick against Greece at Old Trafford.
With Crouch as your lead striker, surely it made sense to have your best crosser of the ball on the field for the full 90 minutes….just ask Rudd van Nistelrooy , the number of goals he was handed on a platter by Beckham’s deliveries in Man U and Real Madrid colours.
The defense without Terry and Ferdinand was a shamble. I might have expected England to lose but concede 3 goals at Wembley -- utter blasphemy. As for the goalkeepers throughout the campaign – the only thing I need say is Scot Carson kept up the glorious tradition of English goalkeepers of the best part of the past 20 yrs in producing howlers in a really tight place….just think back to David Seaman watching a Ronaldinho floater sail over his head…or ‘Calamity’ James caught wrong footed on Zidane’s free kick….or Robinson kicking out at thin air in the qualifying encounter in Croatia. It is astonishing to think that in all these years since Peter Shilton, England haven’t been able to produce a single decent and reliable goalkeeper…..how often would you see the like of Buffon, Casillas or Van der Sar produce howlers like these?
So where does English football go from here…..upwards is the only way…cause this really is rock bottom, having failed to qualify from one of the easier groups. One just hopes that the talismanic Owen retains and maintains fitness at least for 2 -3 seasons at a stretch , for his influence on the team is beyond compare. Rooney , thus far hasn’t produced the best in the 3 Lions shirt , but he is , on form and talent , by far the best striker in all the country….
…and the million dollar question after McLaren who’ll sip out of the poisoned chalice….for all of the Jose chants, I scarce think Mr Mourinho will go for it. At the moment Fabio Capello seems the best bet , and it might not be a bad idea. The Italian work ethos might just be what’s needed to knock sense into the underachieving so-called English superstars.
…and for the English sports fans….at least Johnny Wilkinson gave you something to smile at over the summer….now sit back and wait till Ricky Ponting’s men tour next.

....to the blessed perpetrators of pyromania

2007-11-08T20:39:00.000-08:00

Its that festival time…..the time of the year people get orgasms at willie-nilly little nothings…total strangers who otherwise would never glance at you, come around wishing you ‘happy diwali’….making you guffaw in the inside on such iron clad memes rampant in the society. The pyromaniacs of society test out their vestibulo-cochlear reserve to the maximum, leaving in their wake a haze of murky smoke and choked lungs ….
….but you do not mind, after all, you get the whole day off , to do exactly as you please….its one of the few times when people don’t bother you on a holiday…amazingly, for the first time, in quite a while you are actually cheerful ..…what could be better, Friday holiday…Saturday half day…Sunday holiday….even more astonishingly , people seem to stop falling sick on these festivals as well, or perhaps their ‘gods’ postpone it till after the festivities are over…the next week’s gonna be chaotic in the hospital….but who looks that far in advance….maybe, just maybe….you mightn’t even survive to see the next week (now, now there…I know it’s the season of optimism….but lets not get carried away, shall we!).
Way to go….. deluded humanity….may you be blessed with more gods…one for each day of the year, if I have my way.…and may your gods continue forever to bless heretics like me , at your dear expense.

People are crazy and the times are strange,
I'm locked in tight,
I'm out of range,
I used to care, but....
Things have changed !!!

to Purpose....or the lack of it !

2007-10-02T10:01:00.000-07:00

48 hrs , tossing and turning amidst unquiet dreams and visions . The mind drugged by anti-histaminics and codeine based cough elixirs ; dulled yet receptive….searingly and painfully so, to a plethora of stimuli , of ever changing hues and shades that in an instant blind the eye . For the umpteenth time, in 48 hrs you resolve to read , you open your Sutton…before you comprehend, you find an hour, maybe more (in your state, time holds no meaning) has elapsed. Aghast you stare into the beleaguered text to find pencil streaks covering nigh 10 pages….yet you struggle to recollect a word that was written…and hence , for the umpteenth time , in the same 48 hrs , the book slams shut and you take to your bed.
You stare at the ceiling…..stare at the arachnid weave her traps , unmindful of all else save her next prey , her next mate….and her next offspring. What cares she of aught that goes on in the world . Is she really that different from you and bedraggled mass of delusional species that you call humans. Lying beside you, the 3 most unlikely bedfellows at the first glance…
…..3 volumes of Sandman - Heavens ! they should have banned these long ago , just like they should have done away with cannabis , acid, coke.
….Tolkien , of course. Can you imagine lying 48 hrs in bed and not reading a word of the maestro.
…and finally, and probably unusually, Dawkins’ ‘Selfish Gene’ (we shall see why, though)
….and flipping occasionally through these, you begin to think…..

…………it is all about the Purpose…purpose drives all to each and every end…without purpose, life as we know and define, it would cease to exist. However , you find in the whole thing a ridiculous oxymoron. If Darwin, Dawkins, Dennet and the likes are correct, as you do not doubt they are, then the whole gamut of evolution is purposeless. Things are what they are , simply cause that’s how the prevailing selection pressures over billions of years, moulded them. You , have no more purpose , than the stupid virus which infects you at the present moment, clogging your sinuses and nose.

The city folk had killed the cats and dogs because they might have helped spread the disease. Lacking the power , they imprisoned each other in their houses on the first suspicion of the disease. A rough red cross was painted upon the door, written on a paper the words – LORD HAVE MERCY UPON US.
The door was then sealed and a watchman placed outside , until all in there had been untouched by the disease for 40 days, or were dead.
She heard screams of 2 children high in an attic room, their parents long dead. A newborn baby suckled the milk, and the plague, from a cold breast....on the empty street , a corpse lay , waiting for the cart to take it to the plague pit.
……Despair walked the streets of London in 1665, the Plague year and she still stalks you. Her eyes look at you behind every mirror and sooner or later her hook will find your heart.

….you jump centuries , to a more familiar landscape…..

Plush offices and lounges , exquisite carpentry, tapestries of the finest (not to mention expensive) sort, spas, masseurs, billiards and bridge, golf and croquet. Ladies in their Sunday best sitting by the pool, the shimmering of the water in the glorious afternoon matched only by the dazzling jewels adorning the wonderful women, sipping tea and nibbling dainties .....outside, barely a stone’s throw away from this haven of luxury, in the streets a grubby little child carries a mangled, flea bitten monkey. Her mightily misplaced efforts at some kind of animal acrobatics at the traffic signal do not go wholly in vain. A few sympathetic coins are flung her way. He woos her with passion, fervour and relentless persuasion but he cannot understand her denial. She loves him, he can tell all too well…yet she keeps him at arms length. Not one furtive touch , not a single forbidden kiss, she waits….for the desire to channel to something more sublime….and then they make love, like flames…opening blending , burning…they make love like animals, like gods…………..

…and midst these scenes , walks a man….or one such being. There is something dainty in the fingers, but it is the eyes that enamour you, for they are golden like a cat’s. You are all marked as mine , he says, veritable honey on the forked tongue. You would fain ask , “ what dost thou desire?”.
“Everything, what else is there to desire. After all , being happy, and getting what you want are 2 quite different things. If you have nothing left to want, then you just wait until there’s nothing left to wait for.”
…the eyes glow ever brighter, like a forest fire.

…and so are all are lives wrought. Born into the rabble of desire and despair, dreaming often, delighting less often…and finally at death , being put out of our miserable existence. Some die at birth , some at 10, some at 100…..but each one has lived the same
, each of us have the same amount of time handed to us ….a lifetime…nothing less , nothing more….and in this lifetime, we forever struggle for our purpose , to justify our existence…and like as not, carry the questions securely into our graves.

All the talk of changing the world , healing its woes, making it a better place to live in , seem quite hollow to you…..even were it well meant, which in most cases it is not. But even if it were all well meant , and all perfectly executed…and sickness and famine were banished from human realms , no greed , no hunger, no wars, no genocides…..would that change anything. Would our desires be achieved, would we be free from want, would we forever escape the hook of despair….ha!

Suffer on , Humanity…. Be thou comforted in thy delusions of grandeur. For my part , I shall await, patiently, to look into her eyes, one final time.

Cupid Rejected

2007-08-18T21:21:00.000-07:00

One of my old works....alomost 6 yrs to the date.

O, poet divine, thou bard of the albatross,
Who long days at the whiles of ope’ hath spent.
Think thou thy misery hath gall’d thee more ,
Than that which fortune to me hath lent.
Thou spoke of pain
And fiendish sights,
And viper thoughts
On moonlit nights.
Of rot of mind,
Decay of will;
But hear me out,
Thou hadst with thee,
A love of life
Loth to depart,
Plighted troth
To thy soul and heart.
Though never met,
Ever with thee,
Like oil on waters
Of a troubled sea.

When barb’d with gold, the white feathered dart,
Sped from the bow of yon rascal, blind boy
Of Venus, pierced more than this unfortunate heart,
It bled the soul , eclipsed all its joy.
Thou maiden fair, chaste as Luna’s silver rain,
Thy lips as honeydew on coral spill’d;
Those dark cascades tumbling in their perfumed train,
Madam, do not now disown, whom thine eyes have killed.
Would that we could depart together, depart far from civility,
To the rustic hills, the lazy brooks, the ripening heather,
To the bliss of noontide, the verdant greenery,
In some forsaken nook, dream in peace, in our arms together.
Hand in hand, arm in arm, we’d walk in the unnamed woods,
There under canopied shade , I’d nestle ‘mongst thy tresses,
Astride mirth itself, we’d mock Apollo, “Mar us if you could”,
Myself as Orion, would then woo thee, my virgin huntress.

Wherefore I lie now, on accursed Hela’s shores,
Darkness cloaks me, shrieks out in voices fell.
Stricken by grief and torment beyond portend,
O, that I never heard of thee to name or thy deeds to tell.
The thunderer
Mighty Mjoll has hurled,
The mountains tremble
And the stranger world,
Shrinks to a formless
Shapeless grey,
And evil shapes
On the mind now prey.
No human touch
Or piteous eye,
No light or hope
Do I descry;
The eagle descends
Now every eve,
Promethean pain
Is my lot to grieve.
Evenstar of my heart, now cleave to me,
Shut thine eyes an instant, wipe away the mirage.
Love greater than man’s wont , shall I bestow on thee,
Hence, beneath yon silver girt maiden, tonight, let our souls merge.
I stand now, knocking on heaven’s door,
Below, hell fires are lit, the legions of Satan await;
Stretch out thy hand, pull me onto the everlasting shore,
Else everlasting darkness shall be my fate.

In such hour of doom, do the heavens part,
Purple plumed and mantle of silver white;
A rider fair of form doth now appear,
With helm of gold and eyes Valinorean light.
“Come my liege
Shake of thy shroud.”
The blessed one
To me cried loud;
“What lacks thee ever
In wit or grace,
That should become
Such an ashen face.
Fie on thee,
If now thou will
For darkling tresses
Mighty oceans spill.
Hearken ever,
To thy mind not heart
And find thy brooding
Gloom depart.”

He spoke to me, words fair of form
Of wisdom ,enchantment, wizardry.
“Be warned, the greatest, of Man’s banes
Shall ever be a lover’s treachery.
Turn now hence
To the amorous realms
Of fleeting winds,
And leaping streams.
The burden’d boughs
And cooling mists
Shall serve thee better
Than thy aimless tryst.
Look on the glory
Of fair Ithil
From the living rock
Of Zirak -Zigil.
Seek for learning
Or bliss in art,
A mighty sword,
An enduring heart.”

The night is old, my messiah gone,
Like to the west wind, keen of breath;
He scattered the clouds, memory remains,
Of the disfigured dreams like an impotent wraith.
Hear me now
All ye men of worth,
Who in like pursuits
Have lost wit and mirth.
Lie fettered not
In unseen bonds,
But cast a glance
To the world beyond.
Earn wisdom, fame
And great renown,
Not despair under
The bejeweled crown.
Hearken to Athena
And Apollo now,
Dismiss Cupid
And his treacherous bow.

Harry Lives.....

2007-07-28T13:04:00.000-07:00

So, Harry Potter survives after all. The Boy who Lived, comes through in the end , against all the odds, vanquishing the dreaded Dark Lord, winning his lady love and settling down to a long and peaceful life dedicated to rearing kids, apparating between a 8 to 5 job , growing tubers in his garden on weekends perhaps….all in all, comfortable in the security of relative oblivion, with his family, friends, and memories of his heroic deeds . All this at the cost of a few, probably disposable, friends and allies ( possibly to keep a somber mood).
Isn’t that what everyone wanted…hordes of youngsters, adults, and greybeards alike had been pleading with Ms Rowling for the best part of 2 years, yearning for that ‘lived happily ever after….good conquering evil- love conquering hate’ ending. So are we satisfied? The majority , I do not doubt are, including the redoubtable author, to whom, if for nothing else, I doff my hat yet again for a brilliant narration and some genuinely fantastic creativity. The book , no doubt, will beat all previous collections by some margin, especially now that the people have been given the ending that they evidently craved.
Ah, but after all the hullaballo ,how so incredibly human and predictable a finale. Would children world over, have been able to sleep at night if it was Harry who had come out worse in the final struggle with his evil nemesis. What comfort would the people trapped in this misenchanted isle of daydreams called humanity have found if for once ‘good’ had failed to prevail over ‘evil’. What answers would Rowling have provided her legions of fans if , as Dumbledore called it , if Harry’s greatest weapon, his power to love, had come up miserably short against the malice of Voldemort.
For me Rowling had in her hands, the veritable chalice to creative immortality of a kind scarce attained , if she’d chosen to end her tale in a kind of equilibrium more suited to reality. Most of her characters were either too black or white , and the amount of white left unscathed at the end , made the whole scenario so bright, it hurt the eyes. Ah, for an ending like Tolkien’s masterpiece - “The Silmarillion”, which I consider , philosophically if not creatively (The Lord of the Rings has to come first in that regard) the most defining in the entirety of creative fantasy. Even the LotR, for its seemingly glorious finale, conveys a more than subtle gloom the very end to those who could discern it, in the form of the final waning of the firstborn in Middle-earth and the passing of the last remnants of the Eldar over the sea.
Without a doubt, as the years have numbered , the sheer mystique of literary characters has lessened considerably. Is it merely the power of the market that makes otherwise endowed authors mellow their characters and creations, or is it a tedious change into the well trodden path of memetic humanoid ‘values and social systems’. Can we possibly dream of a modern day Heathcliff, for me, the most fascinating character in all Literature, or say a Hamlet, a Dorian Gray …or even a Holmes ,with his single mindedly calculated and wonderfully unemotive persona.
Oh, for a tale akin to Orwell’s chilling 1984 or the equally memorable tale of Atticus Finch and his children.
Why do we so ardently seek escape in the form of perfection as envisaged by our culturally branded philosophies of good and bad….is it because reality has little, if anything to offer, at all ? Or perhaps, we are cocooned so securely and irrevocably in our little shells built built right from the times of childhood cathecism, that anything to the contrary seems well nigh unthinkable and outrageously blasphemous.
Is there one out there, to give us a welcome throwback to the days of old…the days when Charlotte Bronte remarked of her own sister’s creation… “I scarce think it is wise to create a character like Heathcliff…”, is there one to challenge the incumbent orthodoxy that humanity so comfortably seems to have slipped in….for me, in the present day, Gaiman with his wonderfully subdued hero Morpheus, is the only one who perwades beyond the tried and tested regimens of human acceptance…..Robert Jordan too seemed a likely contender, but he has let the narration meander far too long ; still it will be interesting to see what he has in store for Ran al’Thor and the rest of the cast of “The Wheel of Time”
……as for Potter, wishing him the best of a human life.

Dreams

2007-07-23T10:25:00.000-07:00

The misty gloom at the fall of eve,
May serve to heal , and sever, from its wounded core;
The restless mind, and lend it wings,
Bid it speed to yonder surreal shore.
To rest awhile on fair starlit sward,
Sound the hunt in untamed beech and oak.
Scale the ancient snowy peaks,
Kingly clad in pearly moonlit cloak.
Or mayhap if thou glory seeks,
To fall or fell in the fields of death;
Which shall recount for ages hence,
The deeds of valour in one enamoured breath.
Walk in awe the enchanted streets,
‘Mongst heady fumes of incense divine,
Where bards create ecstatic harmonies,
Whence the maidens dance , and their lovers pine.
Hold converse with sages wise
On life and death and the unseen beyond.
Watch the forgotten tales, brought back
To life, with a wave of some enchanted wand.
Meetings aplenty in the Elysian fields,
With enlightened faces, burden free.
Soon perhaps your day might come,
To cross the river at the anointed fee.

Farewell to Pain

2007-06-10T06:01:00.000-07:00

The American National Conference on Pain describes it as having 2 components, one purely sensory and the other being an emotional or affective component. Morphine, the drug of kings, is still one of the most potent drugs available to man for the relief of pain. Morphine selectively acts on the sub-cortical pain perception areas of the brain and abolishes the emotional/affective component of pain such that the patient feels a strange alien sensation from the periphery but it causes him no discomfort

The mind is a strange creature. It is forever at conflict – against the body, against its own self, against others of its ilk ,and against all known norms of the so called civilized society. They say it is this property of the mind that sets humans apart from all other forms of life. The ability to think , to reason and equally , if not more importantly, to feel. Feelings, not simply subjective sensations of touch, temperature or pain which have been scribbled age long in the books, but the capacity to harbour emotions, to love , to feel pity and mercy.
Since as far back as you can recall, they began cathecising you . They taught you good and evil – dividing them by boundaries you have struggled to see even to the latest day. Then they taught you to love – your parents, your family, your friends, your country and countrymen, and above all , to love ‘God’. “Why ?” You would fain question but the reply comes swift and stern , “Hush child! You must do so because we all do, because so we are told, because so it is written in the great books and chronicled by the wise – whose wisdom and authority we have no business to question.” Later when you grow up, you hear and read of a heretic named Darwin who suggests something rather absurd -
That chaos gives rise to order , that all creation and life is mere chance – and that every succeeding generation is more suited for survival and consequently more smarter than the previous. They laugh at you, “ What a preposterous and vulgar suggestion. Man was made God in His own form.” They tell you when to laugh and when to cry , of the times when you should hurt and the times when you should be happy.
However all the teachings come to naught. You stand a bystander on the brink of battle, amidst countless slain; your feet splashing in pools of blood and squashing beneath them mangled human limbs and organs. A voice within tells you that you should cry, that you should feel pain….but try as you might, the voice is alien and you cannot obey! Sooner might the thinking brain command the infracted and failing heart – “Beat ! For so I command you.”
When have the cognitive centers of the mind ever commanded the subtle, brilliantly varied and scarce understood primitive centers – of pain and emotion…of sleep and procreation. Your age old teaching struggles manfully, screaming at that ill-gotten perverted seat of pain… “Make him weep!”…but all that ever happens is the endorphins, those natural brethren molecules to morphine in the brain, simply propound. You sense there is something amiss – with you , your mind or your world – but it scarce bothers you, no more than a gnat from the marshes bothers an iron scaled dragon of many battles.
You are not euphoric…indeed far from it, simply indifferent; not autistic…oh, no- simply weltschmerz.
Your once loved ones depart your world…you put on a façade of grief but it matters little to you. They murmur against you in whispered voices…. “Heartless, that’s what he is .” But those voices are drowned by the ones that surge within you , coming from you very soul…..you descry what it says…like to a verse you heard upon a different time….it is after all a voice of the endless…of a king of sorts.

If you open your mind for me
You won't rely on open eyes to see
The walls you built within
Come tumbling down,
And a new world will begin.
Living twice at once you learn
You're safe from the pain
In the dream domain
A soul set free to fly
A round trip journey in your head
Master of illusion, can you realize
Your dream's alive, you can be the guide but...

I- will be watching over you
I- am gonna help to see it through
I- will protect you in the night
I- am smiling next to you....
In silent lucidity.

Shadows and Chains

2007-05-09T10:47:00.000-07:00

The shadows of the twilight realm criss-cross through the waking world. You find yourself walking strange, nameless paths : under canopied forests, floors of which have not known light for ages unrecounted ; struggling over pine clad mountain slopes, slipping on the verglass, drinking from the icy streams; beaten down by the unrelenting malice of the raging sun in parched lands blasted to desolation by design or devilry beyond your waking or dreaming imagination.
Then, in an instant, the unfamiliarity fades away into lands, towns, and streets you know well. Familiar faces clog your vision…well, faces that should have been familiar. Something is different . The smiles warm not your heart, the casual friendly banter springs back off you like leaden darts, off armour forged by the lame smith. The meat and bread hold no taste….even the beloved rum seems strangely queer. An undeniable alienation envelops you amidst these phantom shapes in this seemingly phantom land. You seek desperately for some semblance of reality, but what is a dream and what is real – the boundaries have faded , well nigh irrevocably.
Why is everything so unfamiliar ? Are they unfamiliar?
The reality dawns. You have trodden paths from which mortals may scarce emerge unscathed.
“The higher you are, the further you fall…the longer the walk, the farther you crawl”
The words hit home with a chill. Nothing has changed, save perhaps you., so much so that the waking world which succours you seems an overwhelming burden. For a moment you toy with the idea of severing this burdensome cord….but something recalls Nietzsche to you, and his discourse on life and knowledge…and annihilation.
What then should your recourse be?
The Bifrost gleams invitingly…but mortals may not leave the grey lands of Midgard however weary they seem. In Asgard you would tire and fade away in an instant, like moths before a flame too strong.

“Mirror! Mirror! On the wall,
True hope lies beyond the coast.
You’re a damned kind can’t you see,
The tomorrow bears insanity”

Chains and shackles have scared you from your childhood days. You have forever refused to be bound. Some chains are inescapable- life is the most burdensome of them all , and all others are secured to it. However, not all is lost, there are many chains you may yet stave off; indeed many you have successfully done. They say, not all chains are evil ; every man must at a time grow roots deep into the earth and drink of the ancient wells. Somehow, all this talk of growing and digging does not appeal to you. You would sooner take wing, from airy bower to some distant mountain crag….
….but does it serve to think and speak of wings and flight, when all about you are growing roots.
Amidst such quagmires, you find no answers, ….but maybe we shall get some soon . Oh, yes! Indeed …maybe we shall , my precious!!!

“There are times,
When all the world’s asleep;
The questions run too deep,
For such a simple mind”

Sound of Wings

2007-05-09T10:21:00.000-07:00

The urban woods are sombre, dark but not a trace of loveliness do you discern; like battlements and bastions grinning at each other across barren lands wasted by malice and anarchy. There are no promises that beckon - no oaths to be fulfilled…the weariness eats into your bones…but all that awaits you is endless, ceaseless, mindless toil; a veritable ocean; stretching wave after wave, mile after mile; beyond the sight of the keenest eyes.Sleep! Ah, Murphy….Sleep is not your lot, not yet anyway , not by a long way! You strain your eyes far into the madding crowd seeking her, the eldest of the endless, and those disarmingly mischievous eyes….at times you think maybe you see her…you hear in earnest for the sound of wings….but the algesic cacophony of the noisome crowd drowns all sound. The sound of the wings she brings with her, and she comes not for you, yet. The mind gropes the darkness in vain, till at last it hits upon him, the Dreamlord, alone and unaided, in battle before the legions of Lucifer…. “I am hope”…….You smile amidst your toil, the paths have to be travelled ….the wings shall find you yet!“Indeed, what power would hell have if those that dwelt here dreamt not of heaven”

GOD ?

2007-04-13T02:16:00.000-07:00

Of late , I have been speaking to lots of people with regard to their belief in god, divinity and their religious philosophies. As a confirmed atheist, I’m quite frequently dumbfounded at how educated people with otherwise extremely logical minds, are all of a sudden, trapped in a cell of insecurity when approached with this topic. More than once have I sensed the feeling , indeed occasionally, the overwhelming desire among such individuals to break free from these age old shackles, but the fear and insecurity of the unknown grips them at the last moment; and they willingly continue to let the memetic virus of god and divinity prey on their minds and hence the society as a whole. I have no doubts that were such people to read a little bit more on the subject , namely authors like Dawins and Dennet, a lot of their ill-founded insecurities and fears would be removed. However suggesting books to people is one thing and , and them acquiring and reading the same is quite another. Hence the purpose of this post is to bring out in a nutshell the most basic arguments pertinent to this matter. Indeed reams could be written , and have been written on the subject, but my objective is to condense all the major arguments into as brief a post as possible. As I have just mentioned , most of my points are grounded firmly on the bastions set by Richard Dawkins and Daniel Dennet, 2 of the greatest thinkers of the modern era ; whose works are in turn based chiefly upon Darwinism and the great theory of Natural Selection.

Definition of God

Before mounting any discussion on god, I think it is pertinent to first clear up what the word implies to the educated, amenable to reason , 21st century man. On the face of it, I think most individuals would deny god as being a kind of ‘every breath you take, every move you make, I’ll be watching you’ tyrant Big Brother…as depicted in most scriptures. I fathom that the modern theist’s identity of god is based on the following philosophy – Creation of the universe and of life by intelligent design…. all leading towards some final purpose….the purpose : which most people believe to be the existence of man and his civilization.
To quote the creationist philosopher John Locke – original intentionality springs from God ; we are God’s creatures and derive our intentionality from him
From this stems the cosmic pyramid of Locke, at the top of which sits god, who in turn gives rise to the mind. Most creationist philosophy derives itself from the origin of the mind from God…..when there is a mind , anything that springs from it must have intention. Hence everything that exists and the way it exists is because it was specifically intended to be so by the mind of god and his mind……in other words , a Human- Centric view of life.

GOD
M I N D
D E S I G N
O R D E R
C H A O S
N O T H I N G (The Cosmic Pyramid)

Reversal of the Pyramid : Complexity from Simplicity

The major upheaval that Darwinism brought to science was a complete reversal of the cosmic pyramid. In its most basic form Natural Selection can be defined as a blind , utterly purposeless, mindless, algorithmic process which over long stretches of time gives rise to complex designs from primitive beginnings of sheer chaos and simplicity. These complex forms that have evolved through billions of years , have no purpose; or meaningful existence- they are simply there because at various stages in the past, their ancestors were better suited for survival and propagation under the conditions that prevailed at that particular time- than other species, who did not meet the desired survival criteria and hence do not have any ancestors today. We humans find it impossible to imagine such species and hence cannot imagine their possible existence. For instance, say , if 500 million years ago there were different climatic and environmental survival stresses, then who knows, instead of humans we might have had fire-breathing dragons , and goblins as the dominant life form on earth. Absurd as this may sound, who is to say that of all possible A/G/C/T combinations that form genes and hence , genomes – there could be a possible combination that if expressed correctly could give rise to a Pegasus or a Sphinx. The chances are extremely unlikely, just like randomly picking up letters from the English alphabet for a length of time and expecting to end up with Shakespeare’s ‘Hamlet’. However, that is precisely what natural selection is - a mindless game of chance which over billions of years gives rise to design and organized form from chaos. Thus, what the reversal of the cosmic pyramid has most effectively achieved , is to overthrow the ‘Human-centric’ view of life- which essentially claims that the universe , the earth and all the laws governing them were made so that humans and their civilization could exist . Humans exist simply because their ancestors had survived and undergone serial modifications in their genome , culminating in the 46 XX/ 46 XY.

The Weak Anthropic Principle and the final rejection of intelligent design

The weak anthropic principle is a summation of the above concepts and serves aptly to deal a veritable death blow to Human-centrism. In its most basic form it states that – “the world does not exist so that we , humans, may live here ; but if the world existed in any other form , we would not be here to see it.”….simple and lucid enough, I think , to not warrant any further explanation.
A lot of theist scientists still hold onto one final hope for intelligent design by postulating that – for life to exist, even at the origins, where 2 nucleotides drifted together in the primitive soup to form the first semblance of nucleic acid (i.e. RNA/DNA); at least the original machinery of replicator and replicator power – i.e. of DNA and protein – that makes further evolution of comples design possible , in an intelligent meaningful manner. In other words , god created the start of life , set the laws for its evolution and thereafter let nature take its course.
Dawkins convincingly refutes this theory and the final hope for intelligent design in the following statement – “ Organised complexity is the thing we are having difficulty explaining. Once allowed simply to postulate organized complexity , if only the complexity of DNA/protein replicating engine – it is relatively easy to evolve it as a generation of yet more organized complexity…..but any God capable of intelligently designing something as complex as DNA/protein replicating machine , MUST HAVE BEEN AT LEAST AS COMLEX & ORGANISED as the machine itself.” In other words, it is far more likely and easier to explain for life to have originated totally by random chance in the primitive soup, than by the designs of an intelligent creator.
Thus, Darwinism , at its very core explains the existence of a world that is purely mechanistic and entirely devoid of any ‘meaning’ or ‘purpose’ – working blindly within the framework of the scientific laws without a single thought to what the end product is ; and as a result , very efficiently bringing to naught the hypothesis of intelligent design and creation …in other words, GOD.

Occam’s Razor : The Celestial Teacup

The final point which I wish to touch upon is to encounter the accusation of philosophers who claim that the God hypothesis is beyond science, and since science cannot effectively disprove the existence of God, you cannot comment on his non-existence….in other words atheism v agnosticism .
The analogy of the celestial teacup is a delightful counter to this point. What would your reaction be if someone told you there is a huge teacup…say 30 kms wide , which orbits the sun ; somewhere between the orbits of earth and mars. You cannot see it evenwith your mostpowerful telescopes, but you have to simply have faith and believe in it…in case you cannot do so remain silent. Even the strongest theist would laugh at the idea , saying that although it cannot be disproved , the idea is so improbable that it is not worth believing. The same applies to the God Hypothesis – the absolute non-existence of god cannot be proved ( till date at least) – but science has made the probability of god’s existence so micro-miniscule that it is not worth believing in. Since you are not agnostic about the teapot, why should you be agnostic about god ?

There are plenty of points, theories, examples which I would dearly have loved to toush upon but that would have compromised on the brevity of the post…something I was very loth to do . Already , I fear, the length of the post maybe too long for the patience of some . For those who’ve read through the whole post , would be glad to discuss any points , objections , contradictions etc etc ….drop me a mail or a comment .

Suggested Reading :

Charles Darwin : The Origin of Species

Richard Dawkins : The Selfish Gene
The Blind Watchmaker
The God Delusion

Daniel Dennet: Darwin’s Dangerous Idea
Matt Ridley : Genome

Favourite Rock Albums

2007-03-30T14:02:00.000-07:00

Well…back after a long hiatus, more due to laziness than any genuine reason. Anyhow, this post was inspired by a friend , with whom I was chatting last night discussing rock n roll. I realized that I’d yet to make a post on music on the blog. My plan over the next few posts is to recount my all my favourites in rock n roll…albums, artists, bands, songs etc etc….Today , I’ll start with my all time favourite Rock albums.
Whenever you make an all-time great list of any kind in rock n roll, even if it is of your personal favourites , you tend to get stuck very badly , at least at having to choose between a number of pretty similarly matched contenders for a limited number of positions. Interestingly, my 5 favourite albums were never in any doubt…the problem lay in ranking them , especially separating the top 3. After a lot of soul searching (which included some personal sypathies, as you shall see), the list of my favourite rock albums of all time is :

1. Nightfall in Middle-Earth : Blind Guardian
2. Led Zeppelin (IV / The ZOSO album) : Led Zeppelin
3. Appetite for Destruction : Guns n Roses
4. Metallica (the Black Album) : Metallica
5. Back in Black : AC/DC

I plead guilty at the outset that the list is bereft of any album from the likes of the Beatles, Rolling Stones, The Who and other stalwarts of rock n roll. People may also say that the list is not a rock list but a pure metal- list. I guess my only explanation is that metal is dominated by the album concept (esp that of the concept album…sorry for the play of words),whereas rock n roll in general , esp old time was more dominated by singles. The concept album, where the entire album proceeds to narrating a story , often spread over 2 or even 3 albums , has always fascinated me. In my list , only the Blind Guardian album is perhaps a genuine concept album, but in all the rest ,individually great songs as they are, all come together with an undeniable and quite unexplainable sense of cohesion. So , without further adieu , lets examine the albums separately.

1. Nightfall in Middle-Earth : Blind Guardian

Guardian, a german power metal band, famed for deriving inspiration from fantasy tales and classical mythology for their lyrics ,and combining them with a potent cocktail of powerful vocals (replete with harmonies and choir), searing and where required soulful guitar, and great percussion. NiME is based on JRR Tolkien’s epic work “The Silmarillion”, which describes the events of the first age of Middle Earth and the war of the jewels between the high elves (the Noldor) and the great enemy Morgoth, events which later led to his far more well known work , The Lord of the Rings.
The entire album is a whirlwind ride through the lays of beleriand…augmented aptly at places by dialogues, and commentaries. Hansi Kursch is at his masterful best with vocals that even elves the kind of Daeron and Maglor would be hard pressed to surpass. Songs like “When Time stands Still”…describing Fingolfin’s battle with Morgoth at the gates of Angband; Noldor (dead winter reigns)…describing the doom of Mandos and the legendary crossing of the helcaraxe are standouts. However the 2 songs which steal the show are the title track “Nightfall”….describing the darkening of Valinor and the oath of Feanor ; and “Thorn”…a heart-rending ballad dedicated to Maeglin , the ill-gotten and ill-famed prince of Gondolin.
Throughout the album Andre Olbrich is at his best on the guitar, displaying all at once a mastery over blues and metal roots. Thomen (The Omen ) Staunch is as powerful as ever behind the drums.
Those who haven’t heard NiME can never comprehend the sheer melody , power and ultimately unsurpassed beauty of the album…almost akin to the Ainulindale itself;….those who’ve heard it will never deny it a rightful place among the greatest of the great rock albums of all time.

2. Led Zeppelin

This ground breaking album has been famously been referred to by rock fans by a number of fond titles….The Unnamed Album /Four Symbols/ ZOSO /Stairway to Heaven / Led Zeppelin IV. As far as Jimmy Page and the rest of the band were concerned , the album had no name…as Jimmy famously told Atlantic Records in the tussle before the release of the album , “Its not the name, its our music that will sell the album”. Atlantic were concerned that releasing an album without a name, fearing that it would affect sales adversely. After a long drawn out battle of words the band had its way….the rest, as they say , is history. It went on to become one of the top-grossing albums of all time selling in excess of 40 million copies world over. There can hardly have been more rock n roll classics assembled on a single album than Zep managed on ZOSO….songs like Black Dog, Rock n Roll, Misty Mountain Hop would become part of rock folklore . In addition there were unique songs such as “The battle of Evermore” created on the pattern of a celtic folk song with the lyrics inspired from Tolkien’s “Lord of the Rings” and the acoustic masterpiece “Going to California” which showcased both Plant’s phenomenal vocal range and Jimmy’s unparalleled ability in songwriting / creating .However the album will forever be remembered for giving to the world “Stairway to Heaven”…to my mind , the greatest rock anthem ever
written/composed, becoming the most requested song ever on radio….and not least, the title going on to become an idiomatic expression in the English language itself. From the soul searching opening bars to the adrenaline rushing closure…there is not a single bar out of place….quite simply placing Zeppelin firmly on the pedestal as the greatest rock band ever.

3. Appetite for Destruction : Guns n Roses

“Welcome to the Jungle”….with these words , a harsh guttural screech and a searing guitar riff; Guns n Roses announced its arrival with the most ground-breaking, path-defining and bestselling debut album of all time. The face and ideology of rock was never to be the same again . The band , carried on the shoulders of 2 of the most talented (not to mention controversial) musicians of all time, was for the next 6-7 yrs, to rule the roost of rock and heavy metal while simultaneously being mired deeper and deeper in controversy . On one hand you had Axl Rose, one of the greatest frontmen in rock history , and on the other, one of the true blue guitar geniuses in the top-hatted, chain-smoking Slash…a welcome throwback to the Jimi Hendrix style combining classical rock , blues and metal guitaring all at once. Songs like Sweet Child , Paradise City, and Rocket Queen are all time rock legends. If.their music was a refreshing change from the late 80’s style where classic rock was losing its definition to disco, pop and the likes; their lyrics offered a no- nonsense, in your face, urban reality check and at times rising to sheer poetry and poignancy. The album sold in excess of 30 million copies and was voted the greatest heavy metal album of all time ahead of Led Zeppelin, Sabbath’s ‘Paranoid” and Metallica’s “Master of Puppets”

4.The Black Album : Metallica

Its ironical that if I were to list out the greatest metal albums of all time , at least 2 other albums of Metallica would find a place ahead of the Black album ( or Metallica’s unnamed album).The Black Album was a sudden deviation from the thrash metal perfection they achieved in previous albums like “Ride the Lightening” and “Master of Puppets”. The new album revealed a hitherto unknown softer, more cerebral and surprisingly darker side to Metallica, a kind of versatility few thought they possessed. For me , the lyrical mastery achieved on the album , places it among the pantheon of rock’s greatest.The haunting tunes of “Enter Sandman”and “Nothing Else Matters”, the typical thrash number “Sad but True” and the dark ballad “The Unforgiven” are all classics but the lyrical perfection of the album is best borne out on the song “Wherever I Roam”. In that one song Hetfield effortlessly plays nomadic prophet, clairvoyant and not to mention wanderlust traveler , all at once; in a vocal performance for the ages. The quartet produce one after another moment of sheer thrill and wizardry of vocals, guitar and drums on a backdrop of stirring poetry throughout the length of the album…. culminating in the bridge and chorus of the song “The God that Failed”….

….I see faith in your eyes,
Never you hear the dispirited lies,
I see faith in your eyes…
Broken is a promise…Betrayal!

The healing hand held back
By the deepened nail…
…Go, Follow the God that failed!!!

5.Back in Black : AC/DC

The “Black” is all there is in common between the Black album of Metallica and AC/DC’s legendary Back in Black. The thrash rockers from Oz do what they do best….an onslaught of kickass guitar and banshee vocals with no-holds barred, between the thighs, lyrics that send you shooting through the roof quicker than a triple shot of the fiercest tequila. The sly salacious screams of the flat-capped Brian Jhonson and the adrenaline rushing riffs of rock’s most well known school-boy, Angus Young are guaranteed to provide the most phenomenal and sustained rock n roll orgasm ever. Songs like Shoot to Thrill, Hells Bells, You shook me up all night sum up what AC/DC is all about. There are time when we all wish to forget the higher senses, all kind of logic and sense and just submit to the throes of the most primitive and carnal emotions….you do not have to look further than Back in Black. It is rock n roll at its rawest, uninhibited and embryonic best.

Better late than never: post WC sentiments

2006-09-21T09:59:00.000-07:00

This post has been in the pipeline for a very long time.....however procrastintion abd heartache ...and also some genuinely busy times had intervened . Hope to write more frequently.
As an ardent sports lover and die hard fan of Dutch football and Arsenal , I have too often been at the short end of the straw as far as results go. There have been times when you wonder the sense of so much anticipation and yearning simply too see it end in heartache and misery. Happy are those who attain their sustenance from the silver screen and Saas bahu serials- I would remark. But then along come giants like Lance Armstrong , Roger Federer and Tiger Woods to restore your faith and conjure up such magic that in reel life would be dismissed as too fantastical and far fetched. The latest in this line was the mega football event we just witnessed.

The curtains are finally down on the world cup. Perhaps not the most exciting in terms of sheer attacking play but for sheer romanticism and poetic fulfillment , this tournament has to be unrivalled in the entire World Cup history. If any still had doubts that fact is stranger than fiction then just take a look at the number of unbelievable stories the past month has thrown up. Call it coincidence if you are a sceptic or destiny if you are a believer, the fact remains that from the first day to the hair raising last , we were on a roller coaster ride of breakthroughs and redemptions liberally interspersed with abject failure and disgrace. None bear this out better than the extraordinary tales of champions Italy , hosts Germany and a shell shocked France.

Italy, well what can I say of the Azzuri. At the start of the tournament my personal prediction was that if Italy could emerge unscathed out of the first round, they would play the finals against Brazil. Too much has been written about the match fixing scandal in Italy’s serie A which could see 4 maj clubs being relegated and Juventus (which in the final had 11 players who had represented it at some point or the other) likely to be relegated to serie C. Surely lightening could not strike twice . After all in 1982, Italy came off a similar controversy back home to win the event….incidentally that year too Brazil had been made overwhelming favourites. There is something about these Europeans (with the exception of course of the venerable England) that makes them rise like a phoenix from the ashes every single time…the like of which I haven’t seen in any other community or class. What do you know…they produced a master class of team-spirit , single minded devotion and doggedness to overshadow the controversy back home and return with the trophy. The innumerable moments of romance in Italy’s fairy tale journey can best be summarized by looking at the 5 wonderful men who exorcised the ghosts of Roberto Baggio (incidentally another former Juventus man) on a sveltering day in the Rosebowl 12 yrs earlier.
Andrea Pirlo: scored the first spot kick ….after having tragically missed in the 2005 Champions league final for Milan against Liverpool.
Marco Materazzi: Simply put he was in every way the man of the final, from conceding the penalty, to providing the equalizer, to getting Zidane sent off and finally converting his own penalty.
Daniel de Rossi :Sent off in the groups stages for a petulant elbow and subsequently banned for 4 games , the youngster returned in the final as a replacement for Totti and sought redemption at the greatest stage.
Fabio Grosso: From diving in the 95th minute to secure the penalty against Aus to scoring that sublime first goal against Germany in the 119th minute, he was at the heart of all that was good , bad and ugly in the Italian campaign.
Alessandro del Piero : I kept him for the last as a lot of personal sentiments ride with him. He has been my sentimental favourite ever since school days.The golden boy of Juventus widely criticized for not reproducing his club form for his country finally arrived with the goal in the semi final and the penalty in the final. For one who has followed his career every inch of the way, you could sense his relief by the sheer outpouring of emotion at the end of it all.

To round off Italy, in a sheer footballing sense I have to mention Captain Cannavaro. Too often have previous world cups been known by the name of the dazzling player or striker who terrorized defences off all and sundry but never before for a defender. Thus you have Puskas-54, Pele-58 & 70, Cryuff-74, Rossi-82 and of course Maradona-86.However Cannavaro’s performance in the world cup earns him the right to be mentioned in this breath. From the very first match , his amazing anticipation , organization , starting of attacks from the defense, carrying of an at times suspect Materazzi on his shoulders and all this with that characteristically mischievous grin. His play was a joy to behold and for the first time I derived as much pleasure from watching defensive skills as that of the attacking flair of Brazil and Argentina.

As this wonderful tournament progressed , you wondered whether it was Germany’s destiny to triumph. Our bards of yore could not have set up a more picture perfect or romantic and evanescent setting. A country …which for decades has been ridden by the overwhelming burden and shame of the most gruesome genocide in history . A once proud fatherland where for years greybeards and striplings alike grappled in vain with the demons of their own conscience . A land which for half a century was breached by the most notorious wall in history….which even nigh 2 decades has left unsightly scars on the hearts and souls of the German people.
However it seemed that the most unlikely bunch of 23 modern day gladiators, led by a somewhat deposed erstwhile icon , had taken upon themselves the task of providing salvation to the people of a great nation….to once and for all root out the scars of the holocaust and the wall and finally, gain redemption for their countrymen. Anyone who witnessed the amazing quarter final match against Argentina could not help but feel a sense of awe and history. Not least ,in the setting , the magnificent Olympiastadion of Berlin, which had been chosen specifically with the purpose of showcasing the Nazi might in the 1936 Olympic games. They say the arena still retains a few pillars and architectural remains of the original stadium where Deutschland first imposed itself on the world. The Germans might then have stolen the games but the plaudits and hearts went ironically to 2 dark skinned men…ebony express Jesse Owens and the Indian wizard , Maj Dhyan Chand. In those days , proud soldiers of the Reich would stand impeccable with faces carved as if of granite silently conveying the devastation they were about to wreak on the world. Every thing was in perfect decorum and not a hair was out of place.
You get the feeling that the spirits of those men lingered in the till the 30th of June 2006….exactly 70 yrs till an event of similar magnificence and aura but portraying totally contrasting values ;that the passion and euphoria of that wonderful night finally released those guilt ridden souls. There you saw Chancellor Angela Merkel hugging Franz Beckenbauer at that final penalty save by Jens Lehmann of Esteban Cambiasso. The captain Michael Ballack, deemed earlier as the last great of a decaying football powerhouse, hobbling through the entire extra time in excruciating pain but staying on the pitch as the team had used up all their substitutions. What is more , stepping up to take a vital penalty kick. As the commentator most aptly summed it up “ you’d have put your mortgage on him scoring then.” The coach , a former great and world cup winning hero himself , oft critisised for his unorthodox tactics , knew that there were more important things than winning the cup…winning the minds and uniting the hearts of the German people.
Sport defies all prediction . The Germans have not won the cup but Klinsmannn's dream has been achieved , of uniting the people under one banner , something not even the great sporting heroes the likes of Michael Schumacher , Steffi Graf and Beckenbauer himself could achieve. For those who witnessed the tumultuous scenes at the Brandenburg Gate after the third place match, it was a sight to take home ……a sight of redemption for a nation flapping vainly in the dark for more than half a century.

The evolution of a crisis

2006-06-04T00:42:00.000-07:00

I sincerely wished to desist from commenting on this topic as myviews are quite tangential from those which have been aired so far.However grant me the ramblings of an idle mind .
The concept of reservations and equal representation are a smalltenet of an inescapable aspect of human evolution into a thinkingspecies with an immensely complicated social structure. The solecause for this stems from an aberrant development of the humanbrain, which makes it think that it is the supreme being on theplanet that the earth and everything on it is meant for humansalone. From hereon developed our social structure with its multi-layered hierarchy. Contrary to what most people believe, and what isone of the more universally prevalent behavioral patterns innature ; humans are possibly the most altruistic species on theplanet. By this, I do not imply that everything humans do arealtruistic …they are definitely not, but that humans show morealtruistic actions than any other species on the planet. I do notbelieve that there is any other organism which concerns itself soclosely with the welfare and the survival of the entire species.Altruism in other species is restricted to the family , the group orin extreme cases the herd. Most organisms however are solelyconcerned with themselves and their progeny. Paradoxically, we arealso one of the more selfish species doing the rounds. As in manyother species , you will find in humans examples of individualsconflicting with others to gain dominion over the ecosystem. Thecomplicated bodily and mental makeup of humans along with theextensive social structure gives countless dimensions to thisselfish behavioral pattern. This constant conflict betweenaltruistic and selfish behavioral patterns finds an extremelyinteresting outlet in the present scenario of reservations in India.Consider an example. If an external environmental change threatenedthe welfare of an organism, most or all organisms would tend tomodify themselves physically, socially or genetically so as toenable itself and its progeny to combat the impending threat.Humans are possibly the only species, which tries to modify theenvironment to overcome the threat. Of course, in the present day wecan argue that we are so dominant over our ecosystem and so mentallyadvanced that this is an easier method for us; but for whateverreason the fact remains that we do so, that we are inherently madeto do so : and in doing so , not least in our reasons comes the oftsited " for the betterment of mankind".Again we humans are the only species, where as a rule rather than asan exception, the stronger sections are concerned with the welfareof the weaker sections. There is an inherent tendency within us toform social groups, but despite having done so, still be concernedwith the welfare of members of all groups. So strong is thisbehavioral pattern that it is only disrupted when a dire andimmediate threat is perceived to self and family, a phenomenon whichis mirrored almost to precision in the ongoing events in our countrytoday.I do not think any examples are required but still- just a few dayswe were all very concerned about genocide and HR violations inDarfur. For a moment, laying aside the humane aspect, is there anyreason why we in India should be concerned about events halfwayacross the globe : No , but we still are because that is how we haveevolved and for all of Ayn Rand's philosophising cannot change whatis an inherent trait to our species. I am not a Rand fan simplybecause I do not believe that humans can inherently display suchbehaviour.So , fortunately or unfortunately, we humans have this habit ofcarrying everyone in our train. It is our `duty' to uplift theweaker sections of our species. The result: we are a tremendousecological success having attained dominion over the entire planetbut evolutionarily we are slowing down , reaching a dead end or assome put it even going in a opposite direction. Agreed , evolutiondoes not work in a handful of generations but our evolution andsubsequent ecological success have robbed quite few of the basicrequirements of evolution. It is not my lot to discuss Darwinismhere as I have already deviated a lot but one final point isrequired . At the very core of evolution is a much derided wordcalled `Purge'. Evolution tends to purge species of the weaker andthe ill fitted for survival, ultimately paving the way for origin ofnew species. Quite paradoxically , evolution of humans hasinculcated them with this behavioral pattern of altruism whichappears to inhibit evolution itself. The result appears only to bethe imminent extinction of the species. It may not come within thenext 2 or 20 generations , but sure as an arrow, it is imminent.Before proceeding further let me emphasise that these views are notmy own but these are what we humans are . Secondly coming back toour main agenda of reservation in India , I am not for one momentsaying that there is any altruistic motive behind it. It is simplyone of vote-bank politics but the idea is drawn from age old humanideals of upliftment of the weak and equal representation of allgroups.History is replete with such examples. All the major religions :Christianity , Islam and Hinduism cite numerous instances of uniformrepresentation, not necessarily from weaker sections but from allsections of society . The 13 apostles were from diff areas andsects. The Argonauts came from all corners of Greece, the 9 gems inAkbar's court were all from different castes, religions and havingdifferent trades. These are not merely coincidences. Cutting back tothe present area , I can think of an all too obvious example in theforthcoming WC Football. If we were to concentrate just on merit (which in football parlance translates to exciting skillfulfootball), we should ideally be having only European , S Americanand possibly a couple of African teams. Why then do we have quotasfor all continents and bear with Asian teams which either depress uswith their sub-standard football or as in the case of S Korea , useFIFA's considerable backing to gain semi-final entries by the backdoor.On the present scenario in India, I have nothing but contempt forreservations …mind you , reservations of any kind, be it SC/ST,OBC , or have what you may. I think even the most vehement socialistwould ultimately agree that in spite of our best efforts wecannot ever completely eradicate economic inequality . Theeconomically strong translates in evolutionary parlance to a fittermodel more suited for survival by a better combination of `nature vsnurture' i.e. gene pool + environment. By our inherent altruistictendencies we try an improve the ill fitted , a concept I can stillreconcile with. However I do have very strong reservations againstthe horizontal fragmentation of society based on caste , religionand the likes , something that is a virus in the society and canonly serve to impede our progress and quest for excellence. Ibelieve we are civilised enough to at least stop the division ofsociety on the basis of these superstitious cultural beliefs .However I do not have much sympathy for the protesting groups eitherbecause I believe that their allegations and accusations are toomyopic and more importantly are based more on selfish motives thanon any fundamentally conceptual beliefs and philosophies. To sitean example, tomorrow when the UK and US denies visas to Indianstudents on grounds that they would settle down there and encroachon the employment of that nation's own citizens, I do not see anyIndian come forth to say that it the correct thing is being done.Rather, people behave almost as if a fundamental right of theirs isbeing snatched away. People protest in the name of reservationsagainst SC/ST and OBC's in the name of equality but noone is heardthat such a classification should be done away with in the firstplace. Unfortunately, you cannot have your cake and eat it too.There has to be some kind of consistency in your views.In my eutopian world, there would be no social divisions, noreligion, caste or countries. The entire humankind would work onlytoward one common goal…. Progress. The emphasis would be solely uponexcellence and nothing else would supersede it. However it is justwishful thinking…. it will never be. For humans are nor made toexist in that manner. Till then, que sara sara.

2006-03-10T03:51:00.000-08:00

Today i'd like to talk about hollywood and a rather disturbing trend that i've noticed in movies over the past 5-6 yrs. Watching this year's academy awards , a rather low key affair by the way ( made watchable only by the redoutable George Clooney and the gorgeous Kiera Knightley), I came to the sad conclusion that hollywood is experiencing a rather lean patch .Not since 2003-04 when "THE LORD OF THE RINGS : THE RETURN OF THE KING" so overwhelmingly swept 11 oscars , has there been a majoraward and money spinning movie. Before going further let us just consider the more imp movies from 1990 - 2000(a) and those from2001-06(b).
a) Forrest Gump , Philadelphia, Schindler's List, Pulp Fiction,Titanic, Gladiator, Saving Private Ryan , Jurassic Park, Silence of the Lambs, Braveheart.(just to name a few)
b) LotR trilogy, Matrix trilogy , Star wars (I,II,III), A beautiful mind, Chicago, Million Dollar Baby
Its easy to see that in the 2nd list probably only the Tolkien adaption (that too only part 3) would probably merit a place amongthe Thinking Man's Hall of Fame of Hollywood Classics (sorry to disappoint matrix fans but I do not consider any of the films to be classics).However in the first list, all the movies and perhaps a few that I've not named would certainly run very close if not find their place amonst the great all time movies. To add to this you have the steadily increasing list of attempted big budgeted epics which have bombed at the box ofice...your Troys , Alexanders and War of the Worlds . The popcorn fare of the Harry Potter series (& the more recent Narnia) fade miserably in comparison to the great fantasy classics e.g The Wizard of Oz. King Kong for all its wonderful effects would be hard pressed to surpass the undeniable nostalgia of the original black & white clasic.I have not seen a single one of the movies to headline this year's oscars (except Kong) but something tells me that things are not going to be too different from last year. .I watched all of million Dollar Baby, Aviator, Ray, Finding Neverland...all very good movies without bieng great. In none could I detect , either the grandeoise or the finesse or the take home punch so inherent of the classics of old.I personally believe that the best judge to a movie's real quality is the person's emotions as he leaves the theatre. So a great film is one where you feel extremes of emotion- exhilaration, deep sympathy , or simply a sense of awe . It is thus that over the years we either rejoiced as with the Von Trapp family's escape from nazi clutches, or had the good, the bad and the hideous ugly ofwar brought right into our living rooms at the opening D Day sequence in SPR. Over the past 4-5 yrs Hollywood has been built up a strange monotony , either trying to disturb still deeply conservative American roots with themes like Homosexuality and racism , or merely stitching together a 2hr visual effects roller coaster ride lacking the element of thought. (classic case in point : compare Jurassic Park to the 2 sequels or Gladiator to Troy). Somewhere along the line we have lost that spontaneous human emotion, the element which excited us with merely a scream of "Run Forrest Run" , or an embittered Huphrey Bogart drowning his heartache with the line " of all the gin joints in all the cities inthe entire world, she has to walk into mine" . The movie making touch which sent shivers down your spine at the mention of a single " Clarice" or at the word of the proud Colonel in a hostile courtroom " You can't handle the truth" ,is unfortunately missing over the past few years. What is more astonishing is that in these very same years , our own bollywood has acually taken giant steps in churning out cerebrally orgasmic movies the ilk of which would have done Hollywood of yore proud. Be it Black ,RDB, DCH, Lagaan, Page 3 . What a welcome relief to get fare so radically different form the diabetically sweet Yash chopra brigade.
So where do we go from here . Simple , you expect Hollywood to recover but hope it is sooner rether than later. Let us see what Tom Hanks dishes out in 'The DaVinci Code'. You also hope Bollywood keeps up the excellent work of these past few years. Indian film makers deserve a pat on thier backs. For once,they have at least matched ,if not beaten hollywood at their own game. Let us also hope ,1st that RDB is sent to the Oscars next year, and 2nd that it goes one step better than Lagaan. Surely no one will deny the immense potential of the same.

a casual first time

2006-02-20T21:26:00.000-08:00

this is my first go at a blog. quite frankly i'm stumped at what to do next.
Lets just say that i'm looking fwd to the champions league clashes tonight.
Barcelona vs chelsea , Real madrid vs Arsenal , AC Milan vs Bayern Munich are the clashes which stand out.
I'll be rooting for Barcelona . If ever there was any divine vengeance then surely this is it. Somebody(read Riijkard , Ronaldinho et al ) ..pl stop Jose "big mouth" Mourinho.
Arsenal have no chance .they're playing terribly. Henry's not scoring . They're leaking goals at the back. Honestly ,6th in the premiership flatters them .The gunners have been simply awful this season.