tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-227597312024-03-07T21:44:00.345-08:00welcome to the jungleaneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.comBlogger43125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-12597525420490311152016-11-09T06:38:00.002-08:002016-11-09T06:38:27.881-08:00Ah Humanity !!!!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">…….. so it finally
happened. It’s too tempting to say that I’d predicted it, but at the very least
I was not as dismissive of the POTUS elect as the world order in general and
the media in particular. Without examining the finer aspects of the campaign and
issues at hand (yeah right, issues), there is a lesson everyone seems to always
ignore: the lesson from history…and the alarming frequency with which it
repeats itself. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">There is a tendency among
the sections of the media and certain educated classes to overestimate the
“inherent goodness” of the human race and an even further ostrich like, “neck
in the sand” tendency to ignore sentiments of xenophobia and <span style="background: white; color: #222222; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">majoritarianism</span>.
The unfortunate tendency to underestimate the power of the demagogue. Few words
sum it up better than those of Burt Lancaster (Ernst Janning) in “Judgement at
Nuremberg”- “Lift your heads, Be proud, there are devils among us: communists,
liberals, Jews and gypsies. Once these devils are destroyed your misery will be
over.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">It was not the first or
the last time, that the enthralled masses lifted their heads, out of fear, out
of self-love and self-preservation and wrote and rewrote infamous pages of
history. From the hunter-gatherer communities of yesteryear to the silicon age
human, I wager the following experiment will always play out in the same manner.
Give a large (and partly heterogenous) community a choice of survival at status
quo and throw in the choice of a “perceived” better existence at the expense of
a few minorities and social outcasts, and every time, the majority arises to
supress the “others” to advance their myopic sense of self-preservation. Rawlesian
philosophy has never been at the forefront of human behaviour. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Karl Marx perhaps
misjudged in his famous opening lines. The words should have been “A spectre is
sweeping across Europe, the Spectre of majoritarianism”. It may be class,
religion, ideology, fear, hatred or a combination of these, but arguably the
most potent human force is that of majoritarianism; that which compels (for no
apparent reason) individuals to come together and beat down an established
order, or to follow blindly a demagogue, even though he rushes them through the
gaping gates of hell. Little wonder then, why the so called “liberals” garner
such sparse popular support; and the rabble rousers and liars, stoke the flames
which burn the world at large. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Even as I write this
piece, the media already trying to put an anti-establishment spin to the
upheaval. Trying to convince us that somehow the vote is a rejection of the
established political system; the public uprising of a middle class long
neglected, their aspirations stifled and their voices unheard. If that were the
case, back home, you would have seen a much earlier wringing out of the “so
called first political family”, who, in-spite of years of status quo and a near
feudal rule, continued raking in public votes…..well, at least till “you know who” happened. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">…and there is another,
even greater omnipotent entity, which has reared its ugly head and bared its
toxic fangs. An entity which lies dormant but forever prevalent, one which
achieves its ends through surreptitious and almost surgical attacks on the
community it targets. An entity which the common educated man (and
unfortunately even woman) descries as fictional. Ladies and gentlemen, let me
introduce you to Patriarchy and its offspring Misogyny. A woman’s shortcomings
(genuine or perceived) are scrutinized through a thousand filters, dissected to
a sub-atomic level, and magnified to gargantuan proportions to create the
perfect villain, against whom all should rail. The other side, well, whatever
has been said, done, or written; may be simply passed off as locker room
banter. The real misfortune is, that without the implicit compliance of women
themselves, this system would crumble overnight. The fact that women so
willingly contributed to this façade, reveals the length of the journey to be
covered before this demon is slayed….but I’ll halt on patriarchy for the moment
(requires another day…or many more so). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Let us now face the unpleasant
facts and make our peace with it. Humans are not a pleasant species. An
incredibly stupid (if you judge the corresponding cerebral development) and an
agonisingly petty and selfish community, who among all species seems most
intent upon self-destruction. The soon to be Commander in Chief is hardly the
most racist, misogynistic, homophobic, psychopath in history. That spot is
reserved, for all eternity, to a character to whom all others pale into insignificance,
a character to whom these deluded humans kneel and pray in earnest, every day
of their lives, seeking petty gratification and a false sense of absolvement.
The greatest genocidal maniac in all of history or fiction (depending on which
side of the fence you stand). It is perhaps this character, the masses see reflected
in their chosen leader. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">At the risk of awful
repetition, I cannot end before (for the gazillionth time) quoting Gaiman - <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 107%;">Ah , Humanity….you never
cease to amaze me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-37000122050151596282010-10-02T14:57:00.000-07:002010-10-02T15:07:30.269-07:00As Clouds Roll By....<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/TKesoGYstII/AAAAAAAAAFw/6Mvaels4pmg/s1600/P1000607.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523573272902153346" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/TKesoGYstII/AAAAAAAAAFw/6Mvaels4pmg/s320/P1000607.JPG" border="0" /></a> <div><div><div><div><div>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. </div><div><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523573268805567714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/TKesn3H_xOI/AAAAAAAAAFo/-KSfjfgX7Nc/s320/P1000606.JPG" border="0" /></div><div></div><div><br />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. </div><div></div><br /><br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5523572522602263186" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/TKer8bTQ8pI/AAAAAAAAAFg/1-kxKNy7ruQ/s320/P1000596.JPG" border="0" /><br /><div><br />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.<br />.....and just then , the other half of this ‘civilised’ brain answers back with a vengeance.<br />“Dude , its Ryder Cup weekend...you’ll miss the opening 2 sessions of foursomes and fourballs.”<br />“What if you don’t get back all weekend at all....what happens to the Arsenal-Chelsea game?”<br />“What about the season ending Yankees-Red Sox series at Fenway with the AL East pennant on the line?”<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br /><br />It is the evening of the day<br />I sit and watch the pine woods fair.<br />Wildflower blossoms I can see<br />But not for me.<br />I sit and watch<br />As clouds roll by. </div></div></div></div></div>aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-56789831473368065722010-09-08T21:55:00.001-07:002010-09-08T21:55:57.563-07:00Atheist MoralityThis 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”.<br />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.<br />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. <br /><br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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’. <br />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.<br />“Thou shalt not kill”<br />“Thou shalt not steal”<br /><br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br /><br /><br />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”aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-62238649220476478842010-07-24T09:42:00.001-07:002010-07-24T09:44:12.225-07:00Reminiscing the Days of TyrannyIts 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.<br /><br />....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.<br /><br />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.<br />...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. <br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.....<br />Ah well....all is done and dusted. End to residency , exams and tyranny !!!<br />.... Indeed , now I know how Frodo felt....<br /><br />“but if of ships I now should sing , what ship would come to me<br />What ship would ever bear me back across so wide a sea”aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-70214459285420341942010-03-29T08:47:00.001-07:002010-03-29T08:48:03.716-07:00Tiger in the WoodsOne 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."<br />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.aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-30185766857570914932009-01-26T05:41:00.000-08:002009-01-26T05:45:16.419-08:00Pick up my Guitar and playThese 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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br /><br />I sit beside the fire and think<br />Of all that I have seen,<br />Of meadow flowers and butterflies<br />In summers that have been.<br /><br />I sit beside the fire and think<br />Of how the world shall be,<br />When winter comes without a spring<br />That I shall never see.<br /><br />For there are so many things<br />That I have never seen,<br />In every wood, in every spring,<br />There is a different green. <br /><br />I sit beside the fire and think<br />Of people long ago,<br />And people who will see a world<br />That I shall never know.<br /><br />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.<br />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.<br />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.”<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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 -<br />“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.”<br />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.<br />In other words….the day when any proforma for personal particulars / bio data ceases to have a column titled “Religion”.<br />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.<br /><br />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 ???<br />(Shyam , if you read this…please explain).<br /><br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br /><br />But from where I stand….ol’ Pete was dead right -<br /><br />The change, it had to come<br />We knew it all along<br />We were liberated from the fold, that's all<br /> And the world looks just the same<br /> And history ain't changed<br /> 'Cause the banners, they are flown<br />In the next war<br /><br />I'll tip my hat to the new constitution<br />Take a bow for the new revolution<br />Smile and grin at the change all around<br />Pick up my guitar and play<br />Just like yesterday<br />Then I'll get on my knees and pray<br />We don't get fooled again.<br /><br />There's nothing in the streets<br /> Looks any different to me<br />And the slogans are replaced, by-the-bye<br />And the parting on the left<br />Are now parting on the right<br />And the beards have all grown longer overnight<br /><br />I'll tip my hat to the new constitution<br />Take a bow for the new revolution<br />Smile and grin at the change all around<br />Pick up my guitar and play<br /> Just like yesterday<br />Then I'll get on my knees and pray<br />We don't get fooled againaneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-16324030454485371172008-11-23T09:55:00.000-08:002008-11-23T10:03:12.179-08:00LifeIf 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.<br />The sanctitiy of life is actually a delusion on which the bastions of society are based.aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-27157452397853388362008-09-28T07:40:00.000-07:002008-09-28T07:46:14.528-07:00Long Road Out of Eden<p><span style="color:#ff9900;">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.</span></p><p>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.<br />“On the occasion of Independence Day….Dry Day will be observed….no liquor will be served.”<br />It was sad…and intensely funny at the same time. “Independence Day” is observed with such outrightly illogical restraints on an individual.<br />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…..<br />….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.<br />……constantly being dragged down into the earth by downright absurd , atavistic and unscientific socio-cultural fetters.<br />….. a society where every thought of the common man reeks of indoctrination…every action , one of blind subservience.<br /><br />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.<br />We are slaves….to the society : slaves to status quo.<br />Under grossly twisted concepts of morality, this status quo comforts us….<br />….. “at least , my life is not worse off for it”<br />….. “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”<br />….hence….at least don’t ask me to think for myself.<br />….. “after all , God made me in his own image…and hence of course I cant be expected to think.”<br /><br />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.<br /><br />We are slaves to history…. Content forever to revel in the stale memories of some distant event .<br />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.<br />Indeed…..<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><em>People are crazy and times are strange….<br />I’m locked in tight….I’m outta range….<br />I used to care….but…..<br />Things have changed.</em></span> </p>aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-48480221338249302102008-09-12T07:31:00.000-07:002008-09-12T08:56:41.471-07:00On Survival....<div></div><br /><p></p><br /><p>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.<br />“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.”<br />……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. </p><p> </p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5245164148988885826" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SMqRAOEYu0I/AAAAAAAAAEA/IlOHaQe5xbA/s320/Hunger.jpg" border="0" /><br />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.<br />….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).<br />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.<br />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).<br />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.<br />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.<br />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…..<br /><p><br />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.<br /></p><br /><p></p>aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-81738271258484320042008-09-07T07:12:00.000-07:002008-09-07T08:03:02.318-07:00Musings in Imladris<p>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. </p><p>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. </p><p>The Valley of Imladris knows no darkness and in the heart of the Last Homely House , one may find rest and healing. </p><p>.....but already the scouts have departed , and eventually they will return.....alas it seems that it might be well into December before they do. </p><p>"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."</p><p>At times you wonder at Frodo , in the council....but Hobbits have the habit of surprising the wisest , not to mention themselves. </p><p>"Bill, you fool, " said Sam "You coul have stayed here and 'et the best hay till the new grass comes up."</p><p>.....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....</p><p> </p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">The road goes ever on and on,</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Down from the door where it began.</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Now far ahead the road has gone,</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">And I must follow if I can.</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Pursuing it with eager feet,</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Until it joins some larger way.</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">Where many paths and errands meet,</span></p><p><span style="color:#ff0000;">And wither then , I cannot say.</span></p>aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-31067119069056151512008-08-24T08:34:00.000-07:002008-09-07T08:03:26.927-07:00In Reverence of Heroes....<div> </div><div>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.<br />(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.)<br />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.<br />Alas , in the modern age of cynicism , suffocating ingenuity and overbearing in your face theatricality, such heroes are all to few and sparse.<br />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.<br /><br />Our political figures…… uninspiring and untrustworthy<br />Writers….. Unimaginative<br />Media…..well , villainous.<br />Musicians and Poets….. long dead.<br />Thinkers…… ah , kidding…. One is not meant to think for oneself these days, is One?<br />Amidst such stifling mediocrity….it is only the sportsmen and their deeds of surpassing physical endeavour that really ignite passion.<br />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.)<br />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.<br />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….<br />“ and then all the host burst into song and they sang as they slew for the joy of battle was upon them.” <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238109103290630834" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SLGAegxgwrI/AAAAAAAAADI/osf1Hs-4HRA/s320/phelps.jpg" border="0" /><br />(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.)<br />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.)<img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5238108979438172034" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SLGAXTYyN4I/AAAAAAAAADA/K6zeEz0UFGQ/s320/bolt.jpg" border="0" /></div><br /><br /><div><a href="http://images.google.co.in/imgres?imgurl=http://www.telegraph.co.uk/telegraph/multimedia/archive/00792/usainbolt080819ap_792948c.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.telegraph.co.uk/sport/othersports/olympics/2591255/Usain-Bolt-completes-Beijing-Olympic-sprint-double-with-200m-victory---Beijing-Olympics.html&h=288&w=460&sz=21&hl=en&start=5&sig2=pn4gcvyZKtrsc0hQOrYwtA&usg=__l9NMzf994ID-ECSRMtnCF4u31ok=&tbnid=bVyOHR8TWaSk5M:&tbnh=80&tbnw=128&ei=jX-xSMiCHJ-CtAKgnbT5Dg&prev=/images%3Fq%3Dusain%2Bbolt%26gbv%3D2%26hl%3Den"></a><br />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.<br />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.<br />….and what with a certain ‘striped’ American staging a quiet recovery from knee surgery, there’s hope for the world yet.</div>aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-1919437154425299302008-08-11T07:15:00.000-07:002008-09-13T05:51:54.168-07:00Love Song to a Stranger....erased...to ward off misconceptions.aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-47270277380674055862008-07-23T12:11:00.000-07:002008-09-07T08:03:43.256-07:00Another Harry's Bar....and the tale it tells.<span style="color:#ff9900;">Wet wind on the sidewalk….I’m staring in the rain,<br />Walking up the streets…and walking down again.<br />And my feet are tired and my brain is numb,<br />See that broken neon sign say…. “Hey, In you come.”<br />Got the scent of stale beer hanging, hanging round my head.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">Old dog in the corner sleeping like he could be dead.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">A book of matches and a full ashtray.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">Cigarette left smoking its life away.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">Another Harry's bar -- or that's the tale they tell.</span><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">Harry's long gone now....and the customers as well.<br /></span><br />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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">“ The mist had fled and the sun rose red<br />Upon the church spire tall,<br />An old man clad in a cloak and hat<br />Sat stoned on a battered wall.”<br /></span><br />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.<br />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.<br />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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">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.”<br />….and Sam , I think , made no answer….He was never very good with words anyway.<br /><br />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<br />“ Snowfall on December the 12th ? There was no need to come back to report that.”<br />“ But I was tired Bilbo.”<br /></span><br />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.<br />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!).<br /><br />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.<br />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).<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">“ The King under the mountains is dead….Girion lord of Dale is dead , and I have devoured his people like a wolf among sheep”<br /><br /></span>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…<br /><span style="color:#ff9900;">“The finest rockets ever seen.<br />They burst in showers of blue and green.”</span><br /><br />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….<br /><span style="color:#ff6600;">“ for killing the past…and coming back to life.”</span><br /><br />For all your efforts , you resemble the smaller Sam , as far as expression goes , at least.<br /><br />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.<br />And the foresight dawns upon you….nothing in your realm shall endure……<br /><p>In the meantime , of course....</p><p><span style="color:#ff6600;">"Harry's still here...."</span></p>aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-51477483404984478052008-07-14T08:36:00.000-07:002008-07-14T08:42:43.750-07:00Queue to a KillAnother gemstone from Puneet....messaged across from Jhansi railway station.....<br /><br />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.<br />Shouting , spitting , swearing...while the sluggish queue crawls...blaming the man behind the counter for all that is wrong with the world.<br />Too bad , a license is required to posess weapons , else India's population problems could've been sorted out at these queues.<br /><br />....attaboy Sax.....just keep em' coming.aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-36139094563477013372008-07-06T04:52:00.000-07:002008-12-09T01:39:39.634-08:00Viva la Tour....Memories of Lance<div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHC0HTI4psI/AAAAAAAAACQ/tOOlLkTYKFU/s1600-h/tour4.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219870005612029634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHC0HTI4psI/AAAAAAAAACQ/tOOlLkTYKFU/s320/tour4.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHCzoH2JPeI/AAAAAAAAACI/-_uW9sZ3O9k/s1600-h/tour2.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><div>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.<br />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. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHCzC-GyB0I/AAAAAAAAACA/1mpxwnQ9dtw/s1600-h/tour3.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219868831734957890" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHCzC-GyB0I/AAAAAAAAACA/1mpxwnQ9dtw/s320/tour3.jpg" border="0" /></a></div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHCzoH2JPeI/AAAAAAAAACI/-_uW9sZ3O9k/s1600-h/tour2.jpg"></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHCzoH2JPeI/AAAAAAAAACI/-_uW9sZ3O9k/s1600-h/tour2.jpg"></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHCzoH2JPeI/AAAAAAAAACI/-_uW9sZ3O9k/s1600-h/tour2.jpg"></a><br />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. </div><br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHC1OdaF37I/AAAAAAAAACY/vsLMUGmtfUE/s1600-h/tour2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219871228139265970" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHC1OdaF37I/AAAAAAAAACY/vsLMUGmtfUE/s320/tour2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div><br />We are fortunate people to have lived and witnessed the age of mighty sporting heroes….the age of Tiger , Schumacher , Jordan , <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHCzCimZ-lI/AAAAAAAAAB4/GDNZsCifxKY/s1600-h/tour1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219868824351406674" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHCzCimZ-lI/AAAAAAAAAB4/GDNZsCifxKY/s320/tour1.jpg" border="0" /></a>Federer …and not the least , the age and the legend of Armstrong.<br />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.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>2001 : The Alpe D’Huez – The Look<br /></strong></span>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. Wh<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHC1Oe6o69I/AAAAAAAAACg/0ya_0gvu02g/s1600-h/look1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219871228544216018" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHC1Oe6o69I/AAAAAAAAACg/0ya_0gvu02g/s320/look1.jpg" border="0" /></a>o 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.<br />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. <a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHC1OS88tvI/AAAAAAAAACo/yfSe8LkJXV0/s1600-h/look2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219871225332676338" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHC1OS88tvI/AAAAAAAAACo/yfSe8LkJXV0/s320/look2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />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?” ...<br />…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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>2003 : The Col de Tourmalay – The Shortcut<br /></strong></span>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 th<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHC1OpA4uBI/AAAAAAAAACw/Agw_E-4S13w/s1600-h/beloki1.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219871231254771730" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHC1OpA4uBI/AAAAAAAAACw/Agw_E-4S13w/s320/beloki1.jpg" border="0" /></a>e 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 <a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHC1OsOxPGI/AAAAAAAAAC4/xP7bsttjdsY/s1600-h/shortcut.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5219871232118307938" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SHC1OsOxPGI/AAAAAAAAAC4/xP7bsttjdsY/s320/shortcut.jpg" border="0" /></a>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.<br />Stuff of dreams…of legends…..of the stuff champions are made off. </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><div>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.<br />Viva la Tour!!!</div></div></div></div>aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-89169364190186577212008-06-21T14:29:00.000-07:002008-12-09T01:39:39.798-08:00Crazy little thing called ...Hope!<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SF12SYFGT0I/AAAAAAAAABw/LhEDWdShit0/s1600-h/fingon.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5214454001638461250" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SF12SYFGT0I/AAAAAAAAABw/LhEDWdShit0/s320/fingon.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><div>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....<br /><br />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.<br /><br />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.</div>aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-68672945815819141972008-06-09T08:15:00.000-07:002008-06-23T09:59:35.479-07:00The Hidden Face of Humanity<strong><span style="color:#ff0000;">Scene I : Marine Drive , Mumbai at midnight.</span></strong><br /><br />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.<br /><br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;"><strong>Scene II : Mumbai Chattrapati Shivaji Terminus - 1500 hrs.<br /></strong></span> <br />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.<br /><br />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<br /><br />...."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."<br />....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.<br /><br />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?<br />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.<br />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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#33cc00;"><em>“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.”</em></span><br /><p> </p><p> </p>aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-25490104566740714822008-05-31T08:25:00.000-07:002008-05-31T11:24:15.274-07:00Tagged again!!!<blockquote><p>To do:1. Pick up the nearest book.</p><p>2. Open to page 123.</p><p>3. Find the fifth sentence.</p><p>4. Post the next three sentences.</p><p>5. Tag five people, and acknowledge who tagged you.</p><p>...................</p><p>1. Pediatric Neuroimaging ...by James Barkovich....which i was using to make my upcoming presentation on neurometabolic disorders.</p><p>2. Page 123.....random shit on...."toxic and metabolic disorders"......coincidental wouldnt you say.</p><p>3. Line 5 : Positron emission tomography and SPECT may be useful in establishing the diagnosis of Neuronal Ceroid Lipofushinosis.</p><p>4. Next 3 lines........</p><p><em><span style="color:#cc0000;"><span style="color:#ffff33;">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</span>.</span></em></p><p><span style="color:#ffffff;">5. Whom to tag...ok ....Rupeet ,Shyam , Ms Solo , Bhishmadev and Ms Phoebe....and I was tagged by Ankita.</span></p><p><span style="color:#ffffff;"></span></p></blockquote>aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-79016267252083964522008-05-19T12:05:00.000-07:002008-12-09T01:39:39.906-08:00The Sound of Her Wings<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SDHQXgW8O1I/AAAAAAAAABo/Qxe00sFE29Y/s1600-h/death.bmp"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5202168146831358802" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/SDHQXgW8O1I/AAAAAAAAABo/Qxe00sFE29Y/s320/death.bmp" border="0" /></a><br /><div>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.<br />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.<br />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 !<br />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.<br /><br />If this is sanctity….grant me damnation!<br /><br />“Death is before me today,<br />Like the recovery of a sick man.<br />Like going forth into a garden after sickness.<br />Death is before me today,<br />Like the odor of myrrh,<br />Like sitting under a sail in a good wind.<br />Death is before me today,<br />Like the course of a stream<br />Like the return of a man<br />From the war galley to his house.”<br /><br />Walk with her , humanity….hear the gentle beating of the mighty wings. </div>aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-19286197875774669632008-05-14T09:15:00.000-07:002008-06-23T09:59:35.480-07:00On Family...." 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"<br /><br />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.<br />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.aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-13002840585932368742008-05-04T04:32:00.000-07:002008-06-23T09:59:35.481-07:00The Crime of being 'Single'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.<br /><br />I have lost count of the number of times people have ‘requested’ me to do a bum job assigned to them…..<br /><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;">…. “ I have to go shopping for jewellery with my wife”</span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;"></span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;">….. </span><span style="color:#ffff66;">“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 ?</span>”….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!!!<br /><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;">….. “ Distant cousins of the third degree are visiting and hence….”</span><br /><span style="color:#ffff66;"><br /></span><span style="color:#ffff66;">….. “my child’s birthday party”…</span>well excuse me for not feeling thrilled and wishing your child the best of health!!!!<br />….. the most exasperating one …. <span style="color:#ffff66;">“its Feb 14th tomorrow”….</span>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.<br /><br />…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.”<br />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.<br />Poor guys like us are left to face downright insulting remarks … <span style="color:#ffff66;">“Why on earth do you want leave , you’re not even married. Look at him, he has a wife and a small child.”<br /> </span><br /></span><span style="color:#ffff66;"><br /></span>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.<br />To the so-called privileged classes I can only point my extended middle digit and the words of John Lennon…<br />“You may say I’m a dreamer…but I’m not the only one!”aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-41198185767114297582008-04-06T06:24:00.002-07:002008-04-09T08:15:38.232-07:00Tagged....This is in response to a tag game that apparently does the rounds on the blog site...so I go along.....<br /><span style="color:#006600;">1. LAST MOVIE YOU SAW IN A THEATER:<br /><br /></span>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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">2. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?<br /></span><br />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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">3. FAVORITE BOARD GAME?<br /></span><br />Chess , of course…bridge better than that (but it aint a board game)….also Cluedo , Scotland Yard , Monopoly and Ludo.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">4. FAVORITE MAGAZINE?<br /></span><br />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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">5. FAVORITE SMELLS?<br /></span><br />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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">6. FAVORITE SOUND?</span><br />Of Silence….<br />…..also bluesy guitaring , baritone crooning and Jack Nicholson speaking .<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">7. WORST FEELING IN THE WORLD?</span><br /><br />….god and religion and social customs replacing scientific and logical thought.<br />….indoctrination of impressionable young children.<br />....hollow patriotism bieng bandied in your face by people who couldnt care less.<br />....having to communitcate with people you couldnt care less about in the general course of everyday life.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">8. WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU THINK OF WHEN YOU WAKE?</span><br /><br />…..fuck….goddamit.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">9. FAVORITE FAST FOOD PLACE?</span><br /><br />…Not given to fast food in any kind or form….much rather prefer a lazy drink and steak.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">10. FUTURE CHILD'S NAME?</span><br /><br />My favourite question….hee haw<br />Lets see…<br />Eblis o’ Shaugnessey<br />Turin Turambar dagnir glauranga<br />Rand al’Thor<br />Heathcliff<br />Sherlock Holmes<br />…that’s the guys…for a girl…<br />Death<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">11. FINISH THIS STATEMENT. "IF I HAD A LOT OF MONEY I'D...?</span><br /><br />Lets see…firstly give up Medicine…<br />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.<br />Or possibly…..<br />Buy the Arsenal football club !!!!<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">12. DO YOU DRIVE FAST?</span><br />….when I’m stoned.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">13. DO YOU SLEEP WITH A STUFFED ANIMAL?</span><br /><br />…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????<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">14. STORMS-COOL OR SCARY?</span><br /><br />hmm…inconvenient…mostly.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">15. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CAR?</span><br /><br />…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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">16. FAVORITE DRINK?<br /></span><br />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.<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">17. FINISH THIS STATEMENT, "IF I HAD THE TIME I WOULD<br /></span><br />.....….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 !!!!<br /><br />1<span style="color:#006600;">8. DO YOU EAT THE STEMS ON BROCCOLI? </span><br /><br />….I only eat meat.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">19. IF YOU COULD DYE YOUR HAIR ANY COLOR, WHAT WOULD BE YOUR CHOICE</span>?<br /><br />…pretty irrelevant question…considering I’ve nearly lost all of it.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">20. NAME ALL THE DIFFERENT CITIES/TOWNS YOU HAVE LIVED IN.</span><br /><br />Jamshedpur…Kolkata….Delhi….Pune….Jalandhar…Lucknow…and…some god-forsaken wilderness in the Kashmir Valley.<br />( lived in..I’ve equated to…spent more than 30 days in one go)….<br />…also spent considerable amounts of time in…Ranchi…Bombay…Srinagar.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">21. FAVORITE SPORTS TO WATCH?</span><br /><br />Football….Tennis…F1…Golf….Basketball….Rugby….MotoGP….and cricket when Australia’s playing…..can pretty much watch each and very sport.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">22. ONE NICE THING ABOUT THE PERSON WHO SENT THIS TO YOU</span><br /><br />.….that she’s from Kolkata….likes rock n roll….and doesn’t believe in god (or at least looks like it).<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">23. WHAT'S UNDER YOUR BED?<br /></span><br />….I’m scared to look….mostly books…books…..and more books....lying there coz there isnt room in room to display them.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">24. WOULD YOU LIKE TO BE BORN AS YOURSELF AGAIN?</span><br /><br />….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”.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">25. MORNING PERSON, OR NIGHT OWL?<br /></span><br />night owl…and also very early morning…it’s the sun high up on the sky that I dislike.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">26. OVER EASY, OR SUNNY SIDE UP?</span><br /><br />…neither….dark side of the moon…or better…dark side of the LOON!!!<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">27. FAVORITE PLACE TO RELAX?<br /></span><br />……any place…away from the mad rush if humanity.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">28. FAVORITE PIE? </span><br /><br />Sheperd’s….<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">29. FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?<br /></span><br />…..all said and done…good ol’ vanilla…better….if its spiked with a dash of rum or khalua.<br /><br /><span style="color:#006600;">30. OF ALL THE PEOPLE YOU TAGGED THIS TO, WHO'S MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND FIRST?<br /></span><br />...My blog’s pretty much a dead end…I don’t expect anyone to respond.aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-44147625772560120182008-04-01T13:08:00.000-07:002008-12-09T01:39:41.236-08:00Dictionary of a CynicI 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.<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">A …..is for AFMC….</span>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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">B….is for Baggins…..</span>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!!!!<br /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">C…..is for Coffee….</span>of which, I get through 8-10 cups in a day…..of any sort and kind…filter , black or machine brewed.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">D…..is for Darwin , Dawkins , Dennett , Diamond…..</span>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.<br />Also…for Death…the eternal love of my life…oh to look into those eyes…to hear the sound of her wings<br />Also…for DNA…..the magic molecule of life.<br />Also…for Dylan ( Bob)…the greatest poet of the 20th century ( Nobel prize or no)<br />…wow …in other words….D was simply the most DIFFICULT.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">E….is for Einstein…</span>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.<br /><br /><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184377212878032146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/R_Kbm2s5jRI/AAAAAAAAAA4/5wPgHAeKlVE/s320/einstien.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">F….is for Football…</span>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.<br />For a long suffering fan like me…here’s hoping…<br />…Arsenal win a champions league title<br />…Holland finally win a World Cup<br />…Christiano Ronaldo and Didier Drogba get banned for life for diving and cheating.<br />And…<br />…Sir Alex finally hangs up his boots at Old Trafford.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">G…is for god…..</span>to sum it simply in the words of Richard Dawkins….<br />“……. 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.”<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">H…..is for humans…</span>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.<br />….to quote from Gaiman… “Ah , humanity ! You never cease to amaze me.”<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">I…..is for Intelligence…</span>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. </p><p><br /> <img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184651807317134658" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/R_OVWWs5jUI/AAAAAAAAABQ/2IiXFbMTiBo/s320/Janis-Joplin.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">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)….</span>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.<br /></p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184651828791971154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/R_OVXms5jVI/AAAAAAAAABY/XkWa1cgjuKc/s320/JimiFire.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">K….is for Kilroy…</span>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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">L….is for Loyola….</span>13 of the very best years…in the very best school….<br /><br />“Those were the days my friend,<br />We thought they’d never end;<br />We’d sing and dance forever and a day.<br />We’d live the life we choose,<br />We’d fight and never loose,<br />For we were young and sure to have out way.”<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">M….is for Morpheus….</span>the Sandman…the eponymous hero of Gaiman’s cult work….to his endless bretheren…the Corinthian , the immortal Hob Gadling …and all the rest….<br />Indeed… what power would even hell have if those that dwelt there dreamt not of heaven.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184377225762934066" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/R_Kbnms5jTI/AAAAAAAAABI/99HuBmMZGRU/s320/dream+and+death.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">N…..is for Night……</span>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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">O…is for Old Monk…</span>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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">P…is for Poetry…..</span>anything…from the nonsensical ‘Man in the Moon’….to the immortal verses of Shelley, Keats and Coleridge.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Q…is for quantum mechanics….</span>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.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">R….is for Rock n Roll….</span>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 !!!!<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">S…is for Schumacher....</span> 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.<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184377221467966754" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/R_KbnWs5jSI/AAAAAAAAABA/96r5QDGRAlI/s320/schumi.jpg" border="0" /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">T…is for Tolkien…</span>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.”<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">U…is for Us</span>….us..us....and them...them...them<br />......and after all , we're only ordinary men!!!<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">V…is for Valhalla…</span>and the childhood tales…..of feasting gods , bloodstained battles , rainbow bridges….the Thunderer , the All-Father and the glorious legions in their train.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">W…is for Warne. ...</span>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!<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184375791243857154" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/R_KaUGs5jQI/AAAAAAAAAAw/xcG-VNS_asM/s320/warne.jpg" border="0" /><br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">X…is for X-rays…</span>the mysterious discovery of Wilhelm Roentgen…that revolutionized medical science ….in whose company I am destined to spend the rest of my attenuated life.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Y…..is for Yesterday…</span>in the fond memories of which, we while away our precious todays.<br /><br /><span style="color:#ff0000;">Z…is for Zeppelin....</span> 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. </p><p><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5184651837381905762" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_FpV_gURvIsQ/R_OVYGs5jWI/AAAAAAAAABg/xt0bincXLrk/s320/zep1.jpg" border="0" /></p>aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-82487353258333654482008-03-09T06:00:00.000-07:002008-04-09T08:16:05.272-07:00'Spit' - FireAn sms from Puneet at his ‘phlegmatic’ best . I just had to put it down.<br /><br /><em><span style="color:#ffff00;">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<br /></span></em><br />AFB – acid fast bacillus….syn – Mycobacterium tuberculosis (the tubercle bacillus).aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22759731.post-73738071916165412022008-02-15T10:00:00.000-08:002008-04-09T08:16:15.604-07:00INSOMNIATossing and turning, and<br /> rendering drenching wet,<br />The pillows and sheets with midnight sweat.<br />Though waking terrors<br />Plague the mind,<br />Easier to bear, and far<br />Less fearful, you find;<br />Than ghoulish figures that in your dreams are met.<br /><br />The unsleeping pupil, dark and glazed, as if belladonna stained;<br />The restless heart, galloping, like some jungle beast untamed.<br />The mouth bathed and soured<br />By the ever rising, burning bile,<br />While the mind walks , ceaseless<br />Amidst some distant defile.<br />In such catatonia, you pray in fervour, for the night to wane.<br /><br />Some moonstruck lover, bemoaning in sighs, his mistress cold,<br />Or cancerous crone, in writhing pain, yet vainly clutching the mortal fold.<br />The fallen lord, who lately<br />Hope in the bottle hath sought.<br />Or the uneasy, uncertain crown,<br />In the throes of unwilling battle, caught.<br />All lie in angst, and in the gloom, their uneasy sorrows mould.<br /><br />The frenzied brain , glowing bright, in unimaginable hues,<br />Like artist in desperation, seeking his long forgotten muse.<br />Gates are opened ,<br />And instantaneously shut;<br />While teeming multitudes,<br />In senseless hunt<br />Ungirt the mind, and ‘mong the nightly demons, set it loose.<br /><br />The body is drugged, the senses numbed, yet sleep remains,<br />As distant, as bright sunlight , from stygian plains.<br />Then the first gleam<br />Of a hopeless dawn,<br />Plunges deeper, the<br />Unrelenting , insomniac thorn;<br />From the limb and soul, all semblance, of life blood drains.aneeshhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18025639736076885708noreply@blogger.com0