Hurry

Groovin, lets cut out of the scene, go groovin
Groovin, lets cut out of the scene, go groovin

we're cutting our hands at the kebab shop
in the streets of fear
Forgetting all our best Tae-kwon-do moves
on a barrel of beer

So long liberty
Let's forget you didn't show

Yalla, Yalla, Yalla, Yal-lah
Jumbalaya on the bayou

- Joe Strummer & the Mescaleros

Delhi Diary zero - What Horatio Hadn't

There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Horatio,Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Act 1, Scene 5, Hamlet

In my blog so far, I have steered clear of mentioning certain particulars about my life and person. Things like, who I am, what I am, what I do and what I hope to be doing. The thinking behind this has been pretty sound. For one, such a narrative suffers the disability of a profusion of I's , like the one a sentence back, and assumes 1) that you are interested in this sort of thing and 2) that people not informed of these particulars, that is, people other than friends and family, actually read this blog. And 3) that i know of such things as what I am doing and what I am about to do. A precarious assumption at the best of times. And besides, questions of that nature, to the discerning reader, one hopes, are answered in the choice and treatment of the posts.

( If that preamble made you nervous, don't be. It does not precede an autobiography. I am nice. )

Allow me then today, since I have been so mindful of your sensibilities, to be a bit 'self-referential'; a few words about me in the nature of background information at the start of this new sub-series titled "Delhi Diary".

I recently (9 days back) moved to Delhi. This move, considered by many in the know, as not altogether wholesome from the spiritual vantage point, followed, in retrospect, a self-discovering journey lasting approximately 7 years. I know. These things take time.

You see, for all that time, I had been pursuing a long held dream of becoming a physicist. Cocking a snook at Will and going where Horatio's philosophy hadn't. Peeping into the dread and dream of the universe and all that jazz. But at the end of that time ( a couple of months back) I had an insight into the dread and dream of my own. I realised the precariousness of childhood dreams and how they may often lead one into paths that the mind treads but the spirit doesn't. In short, I discovered that a life in research, despite my self effacing genius, the promise of a nobel prize and the the slightly more distant promise of highly inappropriate libidinous alliances with my future grad students, was not for me. My talents, as they are, would have to be channelled into a future slightly more modest. And hence its come to be that I am now gunning for the pulitzer, writing this post from a cafe in Delhi, having secured a job, as a reporter in a national daily, and where prevailing market forces have decreed that I be charged 200 bucks (cover charge) for the privilege of using the wi-fi on the premises. And the coffee isn't even all that good.

The point ? The bottom-line moral in these times of spiritual-quick-fix gurus and monks selling their SUVs ? Well none. I don't claim to move your cheese. Just two thoughts though.

One) Self delusional behaviour is more rampant than you think. Its perhaps a good idea to pit-stop and question the mirror without fear and regret.

Two) I'll be writing more often.


footnote : The only other thing of relevance that you should know about me is that I think Unix rocks and the view outside windows is splendid.

With great power comes great responsibility...

I have never been in a street fight.


I did punch a kid once when i was 8 years old. He surprised the both of us by losing a tooth and i spent the rest of the day thinking "..with great power comes great responsibility"(we were both in denial of the fact that it was a milk tooth hanging on to his gums for all it was worth. not much as it turned out)
And then 7 years later, i used the power again when i punched another kid (except He kinda spoilt it by complementing me on it.)


So yeah. I am lacking street cred. This ofcourse is not lamentable if unless you live in prison and share a cell with a man named "Spike". and I am not necessarily complaining. But I recently moved to Delhi and the thought occurs now with a distressing persistence, what would i do if things got primal ?


The movies are ofcourse a ready source of dangerous mis-information, as i remember finding out once the hard way(1). And ofcourse if you are in the habit of watching rajnikanth disposing the riff-raff of this world, well....i'm not Rajnikanth(2). no one is. not even Neo.


So, what does one do ?
(ofcourse if you are in america, the current national debate seems to center around having a good old western shootout with semi-automatic weapons ; more guns = greater peace being the logical coup They've acheived.)

I say martial arts. only answer. With enough training one should be able to make bruce-lee like noises and go crazy on the bastards like an extremely angry cat on heat. The shock value alone could be immense.

(watch this space)

(1) Its a long story but to put it in a nutshell, it involved climbing down a pipe. well, i was 18 and in college. and thats a time when you might find yourself in situations calling for alternative modes of exit. So i was in one such and i found out that a look of bravado coupled with a clamping action of the legs is Not actually, in point of fact, the right way of going about it. It is however, the fastest.


(2) Rajnikanth is an indian superhero who Can, unless he's already, Done. A man who scares away even metaphors.

We are like this only

Thoughts on being a Hyderabadi


Any place, society or culture can often be chracterized by the implicit set of assumptions that its people carry, the breaking of which causes much perplexity, confusion and general existential angst. In hyd, its the following

Traffic rules are not rules, just general suggestions that apply to other people, none of whom actually live in hyd. Its widely considered in many circles to be indicative of the governments sense of humour. Hyd just happens to be the city that understood the punchline.

If asked for directions, it is bad karma (alongside eating little children) to refuse help, the fact that you have not the faintest idea being only a minor technical distraction. Just point in the general direction of where you think the place ought to be and wish the traveller good luck.

Time is actually an infinite quantity and its tendency to move forward most irritating. We show great disdain for other people's concept of temporal space and consequently follow a diffrent standard all together. for example - 5 mins. 5 mins has a most quirky habit of inflating in hyd. It could mean anything from half an hour to a couple of days to maybe next year. What is however assured is that it will be anything except, well, 5 mins.

Street Theater. In any altercation/disagreement carried out on a road, it is the duty of those present/passing by/within hearing distance to crowd at close distance and gape at the concerned parties with frank interest. This is done ostensibly with the view of observing, at close quarters, the human condition and how it may bring into conflict two strangers they didn't know existed until that very moment. It is conceivable that they may have more pressing matters to attend to but so strong is this sense of civic duty that the legs stay and the eyes goggle.

Don't Panic

The world is no longer safe. History students may argue that it never was and they would have a point. So lets say, the world is being no-longer-safe as callously as it has never been before. We now know (the history students tell us)that the danger signals started some time ago. a long time ago, in fact. long before MTV showed us how to be cool. before Madonna. before even, Robert Plant's generational crash course on sex. They've been around us a long time; multiplying and growing. Obese d with our indifference and their own fatuous monstrosity. and now they are everywhere. Silent, treacherous and with the power to cling to your better sensibilities like that half chewed bubble gum still stuck to your shoe. They move among us; claiming old friends, robbing future ones and generally increasing our tiredness with our own species. In parties, in universities and on most frequencies, always unsuspected, they assault and leave you with that strange aftertaste of burnt toothpaste that only they can.

Republicans. What to do when you see one.
- a step by step guide on practical safety

1. Don't panic. They can smell fear. its a turn on.
2. Grab a copy of the communist manifesto (any red book will do.) and hold it at arms length in front of your chest and shout "the proletariat will rise". This will confuse It, in all probability because it does not know what proletariat means. To be sure, shout "Commie-ism".
3. This will enrage it and cause fangs to appear accompanied by some frothing. Walk towards it shouting liberal cuss words, enunciating them clearly. you may choose from - "Social Security","Sexual Freedom","Public Health-care","Noam Chomsky","World Peace","Charles Darwin" and "Kyoto Protocol".
4. By now it should be mad with pain, confusion and anger. Its jumping up and down, thumping its chest vigorously and calling for a pre-emptive strike. Curb the tremendous urge to drop kick it, this may only serve to prove its point. Instead, you may throw it a banana.
5. Its blinding rage, fear and loathing of/at contrary view points supported by evidence, logic, fact and history will make it morphologically alternate between bill-o-riley, ann coulter and fox news. Overcome the nausea and steady yourself. When it talks of a liberal bias in the media, smack it hard and wipe the oil off your hands.
6. It will now change strategy and appear as an advertisement for corporate culture full of happy shiny people with good teeth and better complexion. A product placement for happiness. Put on 'rage against the machine' and confess your never-dying love for "Napster".
7. It should now be a heaving mass of misery, desperately holding on to its NRA membership card and a few public issues of GE in a frantic bid to survive, even as it fades away.
8. If all of the above fails, then just say "free market is crap". The stench of greed however, may remain for a few hours after.

* *Republicans here refers to, in the main, Neo-cons and those who know what they are doing.