JOURNEY TO THE CENTRE OF HELL

CHAPTER 3

Don't you just love fantasy?

Well, not the kind of 'fantasy' which we all are privy to but the kind 'Tolkien' unravels in his masterpiece- "The lord of the Rings'.(LOTR)

I don't live here, in this sadistic,hypocritical, stereotypical, yet compelling world. I live in the 'Middle Earth', a land of Tolkien's imagination, a land where folks live peacefully, discrimination is unknown of and when evil comes all fight together instead of blaming and cutting each others throats.

This is all I have been thinking lately, a different world with different people having different agendas. Even though my LOTR trance is not over I would like to come back to the 'real' world. I cannot forget my time in BOMBAY, even though it is the last day of the world and a new world in beginning. 

So here I am, late again, apologetic again wondering whether my guilt has changed again to a nonchalant attitude which makes me this lazy procrastinator, this self absorbed narcissist(I went far, didn't I?) who prefers bed to pen.

I write when I have to, when deadlines start to fuck me over, in every position imaginable. I write when I wait, wait for someone's message, someone's acquaintance, someone's apology or someone's approval. It proves that actually I am the worst writer in the history of writing whose muse is waiting. But looking at it optimistically, I do have a muse which will not fade away with time(waiting is constant, you have to wait for something no matter what all your life). My muse is robust, its adamant for not leaving me. 

My my,How lucky am I?

Writing is like switching thoughts. The switching process is not very efficient though; I have wasted a lot of thinking power on this chapter's introduction and the main act is yet to begin. I still have some energy left and before It converts to some other form (energy is conserved; that's right, PHYSICS bitches) let's begin.

A JOURNEY TO THE CENTER OF HELL

I need to be reminded every time that where am I.  

Oh yes!! I had reached the paradise city, was well accommodated and was ready to fly like a bird. The first day in BOMBAY was 'dull' ( and believe me 'dull' is the nicest word that I can come up with). Instead of listening to my inner traveler, I visited some of the most cliched places Bombay is known for. Take for instance THE JUHU BEACH, we all(Indians) have been hearing about this beach since our childhood seeing all those bollywood( that's the name of our film industry) movies. But it is a shitty place. Believe me when I say that Delhi's metro is less crowded than that damn beach( and I am talking about working hours here). For people managing the beach, cleanliness is a myth. I went there to ease my mind, clear my thoughts; I mean that's what beaches are for, right?

But what I experienced was the polar opposite. With so many people shouting and screaming it was like some fucking concert was going on, not a good concert mind you but a concert where all music is messed up and noise is considered to be its ultimate scale. I tried to leave but could not leave my friends alone, that much courtesy I do have(even if narcissism is predominant, as all say).

I eventually left and HOLY SHIT! was I relieved. Below is the beach's photo at its peak visiting time. Now you know what I was talking about.

After that beach debacle, a friend suggested to visit BANDSTAND. For all of those who don't know, Bandstand is like a nirvana for lovers. Couples from all over the city come here to share their 'love', to make lifelong promises and above all to show how uncomfortable PDA(Public display of affection) actually is. I mean that is the last place a single guy would want to go. I completely lost it there, seeing all those couples getting cozy made me disheartened. My spirit died and I became a character from THE WALKING DEAD, a blood sucking zombie looking at the normal people(people with girls, obviously)with eyes that would scare Hitler. I departed from there before mental breakdown could take over. But before leaving I did see SHAH RUKH KHAN's home. Now SRK is this super famous actor of Bollywood. His house is magnificent and it gave me one thing that I needed the most that time, ambition. I revived and came back to the college where I was staying, with a hope that the next day will be different(good different, I mean) and at that moment the explorer inside me had awoken and stood guard all night while I was sleeping to scare away all those disturbing thoughts of the day's travel.

From heaven to heaven!!

                         CHAPTER 2

I have a justified reason this time for not being regular on my blog. Currently I have been reading The lord of the rings,  and I am so engrossed in the epic that nothing interests me more than to read more. Still I have written yet another chapter to take a break from all the excessive reading.

Here it goes....

FROM HEAVEN TO HEAVEN!!!

I am a Delhi fanboy. Being in Delhi all my life has created a faith towards it which is unbreakable. I will never cheat on it with another city; Delhi has captured my heart in a golden cage, a cage that creates a sense of colonisation yet it is attractive and glamorous. I am bonded but the cage seems to satisfy my quench for everything. So going out(or should I say breaking out) was redundant; Till now.

So where was I? I had boarded for Mumbai and was on my way to salvation. The events which took place while on the train are not worth mentioning because its the same old tale with an addition; SUPER BOREDOM!
While in the train your options are limited you can't just wander off to take a pleasant walk to relieve yourself of the boredom or stress unless you are ready to see the faces of the poor souls, some sitting on the train's floor. Going to the loo isn't fun either ( my fellow Indians can relate to that ). However there is one thing that I can mention here.

For passing my time I had a couple of lonely planet magazines along with my voice and a guitar( apparently I sing! ). So  while I was shuffling thorough the articles on travelling to some erotic cities and singing my heart out, I got acquainted with a guy. He was a Mumbaikar ( the folks in Mumbai like to call themselves that ) and was travelling back home from Delhi. We talked a lot( in a completely heterosexual way ), he made additions to my iternaryaand told me about some of the ' hot N cool' places of Bombay. He is a musician himself and a student of arts which are both in favour of labeling the guy as cool( for an engineering graduate like myself the crieterias for coolness are rather queer ).

As a result my journey became less painful and after sixteen hours of torture I finally set foot on an alien soil. I left the train with joy and this the point where the adventure finally began!

But before rushing to check the first item in my itenary I needed some rest. So I rushed to the college's campus where my accommodation was arranged, had some sleep and then took off like a young baby bird who has just learned to fly.

CHAPTER 1(of the travelogue)

CHAPTER 1

The time to unveil the cloak from my reminiscences has arrived. Its not as exciting as the unveiling the new I Phone, but it is sure as hell intriguing.. I went to the city of dreams, the 'mayanagri' of the Indian subcontinent, to BOMBAY(I like to call the city from its old name, it has got a charm in it). I am from Delhi, so from all the great places accessible nearby why did I choose BOMBAY? Was it the glamour that attracted me or was it the people? Was it the idea of meeting a superstar that drived my craze or was  it the never sleeping immortal sea? The answer; Well, none of these!

See, for a student like myself with no source of income whatsoever, travelling is a luxury found often in dreams with a 'spirit'(of any kind) acting as a catalyst. I needed a very strong reason to convince my parents to spend their hard earned dime for my luxurious(as they like to call it) obsession. Fortunately, one of the colleges in BOMBAY was having its annual fest and our college was participating. That was my pass. A College TRIP!!

My parents reluctantly agreed to send me abroad(any distance outside 100km radius from my home is abroad to them!). I cried, cried with joy and my excitement bore no levels. Such was my enthusiasm the previous night that I hardly slept and was busy revisiting the depths of my mind where my ITENARY was carefully stored. Finally, the auspicious day came but it started with an inauspicious note.

The train which I had to board was delayed by five hours. Living in my country for two decades now, I had adapted myself with the condition of our railways(India has the largest railway network; what an irony) but my elation the night before got the better of my awareness and as a result there I was, standing alone on a deserted platform holding my luggage in the same way as a four year hold holds his toys. But time passed; I listened to each and every song on my playlist, read some pages of a novel I was carrying and went thrice to the inquiry counter to 'fry' their heads with the same question over and over again, "Is there any more delay to the train?". The wait was fruitful. My train arrived and I left Delhi with fireworks laden all across my eyes, fireworks of celebration, of uncertainty and most of all ,of hope that this trip will change me if little

A TRAVELOGUE

A TRAVELOGUE

Wow!!

I have lived up to my reputation to be the greatest procrastinator the world has ever seen. I have broken all my holy vows to blogging by not writing on a regular basis. 

This will not do.

 I need a bashing from someone else or at least an outbreak of emotions to bring me back in line(read form). What I need is a series of abusing, of constant reminding that how big an asshole am I. I made a promise to myself in my last post that "This time I will write sincerely" and I have broken that promise. I can't keep promises even to myself. I just realized that, this is reason why relationships never work for me. How can I keep someone's promises when I don't know how to keep mine.

Enough of moaning!!

Lets get back to business.( and I hope this time my business doesn't shut down for a long time; Lets say NEVER)

One if the reasons I skipped writing for such a long time is that I have been traveling a lot and after settling down it's time to acknowledge my travels. I will be writing this travelogue in parts because 'Lets face it', I am a terrible writer.

Let the games begin.......

                                                     

    PROLOGUE

Why doesn't our lives have an incognito mode?

Just like the modern browsers!

Doing what we like, privately,hidden away from the eyes of other people with no record of our history whatsoever. But life is complicated, that is what i have been hearing till now. So i tried to uncomplicate it by going incognito.  For a change i did something for myself, something i really like, something that gives me a sense of satisfaction only a few can give ( So talking about the incognito mode was a natural thought, you know what i mean!)

Coming back to what i did; i travelled. I travelled to an unknown city filled with unknown people to fulfill unknown aspirations. Living in one place all your life induces a sense of bondage( well atleast for me, it does) , life is mundane, it's predictable. Travelling is one of the ways to break free, or should i say "to spice things up".

Coming to the point ( which i seldom do), i took a leave from my "normal happy life" and took a blasphamous route by doing something against normal regulations.

I traveled my heart out.

                                                                             

SHANTARAM

SHANTARAM

Have you ever read a book whose plot, characters and setting took you to another dimension?, whose intricate layout forced you to impersonate the characters, not only the protagonist but all the sidekicks too, live their lives, analyze each situation thinking that you are them?

Shantaram is such a book

Normally if I like  a book enough to talk about it(rather, write about it!) I don't take much time; I collect my thoughts and pen them down, like I have done for some of the books I have reviewed(Let's not get cocky here!! , 'wrote about' is a better and more modest term) in my blog. But Shantaram is different. Initially I was so awestruck by the book that for two to three days I could not get it out of my mind, let alone collect my thoughts to review it. I was blank, didn't know what to write which normally doesn't happen. But this is anything but normal! Normality is overthrown as the Nazis were overthrown. The difference being, the latter overthrown by the teeth shattering cold of the Soviet Union and the formal by abnormality, peculiarity and eccentricity. (all are synonyms I just wanted to give a poetic touch to this mundane text!!). I am using the word 'abnormal' and its synonyms in the most humble way I can, in a positive way, out of immense respect for this book.

Fuck!  my habit to deviate from the topic is irritating me, too!! 

Oh! I was talking about 'SHANTARAM', a novel , a traveler's guide, a life changing mythological text; you can interpret it in any way you want, but it will never loose its central touch, its originality, its uniqueness and above all its morality.

Its a 944 page long masterpiece. Whoa!! that long. But I can guarantee you not for a single moment you will regret reading this.(I got a little bit carried away with the 'guarantee' thing!).

Coming back to the book, the story is about 'Lin' a convicted felon who has escaped from a maximum security prison in Australia and has landed in Bombay , India after spending some time in New Zealand(All those episodes of  'Prison Break' will come gushing in when Lin describes how he managed to escape!). Bombay reshapes him, redefines him and changes him forever. From a criminal he becomes a doctor of sorts helping all those poor souls living in slums. The book describes Lin's journey in a mesmerizing way, from slums to Arthur road prison to Afghanistan; it gets hold of the reader like a spirit. I am making the ultimate analogy of comparing  a reader reading Shantaram to Arjuna in Mahabharata while he was enlightened by Lord Krishna during his teachings of the Bhagwadgita to him. Shantaram has enlightened me as a reader.

I haven't mentioned the author till now! How naive of me?

Thank goodness these articles I write  are not read by some blood thirsty critic, otherwise my blog would have become critically acclaimed for sucking!!!

Gregory David Roberts wrote shantaram taking experiences from his real life. The things happening to Lin in the book are the things experienced by Roberts himself. Think about the level of intimacy the author would have shared with the book while writing it. There have been many good authors who wrote about slums, the way people live there, their daily account, but none of them actually lived there, unlike Roberts. This alone gives us enough reason to try his book for at least once.

Haven't you read enough? Don't you want to get over the bad trip of reading this article? Then stand up go on Flipkart and order Shantaram today(or you can hold on to your thirst till Sunday and buy a second hand version of the book at Daryaganj Book Market at super cheap rates).

PLEASE READ SHANTARAM!!!!!!

#Respect

Gregory David Roberts

#InLoveWith

Shantaram

MY LITERAL FANTASIES

MY LITERAL FANTASIES

I am ardent reader and among other things that give me pleasure, reading sure is in the top three(if not on the top). I should have pursued Literature or something even remotely related to it. But feeling guilty is frankly speaking, not my style! Engineering made me who I am today, a carefree, amicable and somewhat more creative  'Son of a Gun'.

Whoa! I am drifting away fretting on my past reminiscences. Coming back to reading, Where was I? 

Oh yeah, I had not even begun; What a waste!

Fuck it!

Hmm.... reading to me is what chemistry is to chemists, art to artists, communism to communists, blacks to racists and the list goes on and on. Seriously I could not have given a better description of my feelings. So basically I cannot live without it.  For me reading and writing go parallel to each other. I read to write and write to read more; it allows me to open my mind, let thoughts float freely. To sum up my life, I like to travel(as described vividly in my last post), I like to read and write. Hey why shouldn't I become a travel writer? Its easier written then done!

I sometimes have dreams about this 'that I am some big, hotshot( I like to think so :P) writer being applauded by critics for the masterpiece I have just written' and then I wake up with reality gushing through my veins like cocaine through an addict. Wow! another reference:Reading to me is what drugs are to addicts.

Just yesterday I completed 'The lowland' by 'Jhumpa Lahiri' and was completely blown away by her writing. Many authors write novels but a very few of them write the way she writes, diligently weaving her characters into a beautiful story. Midnight's children has been the only one to have that effect on me but not anymore.

See that's what I want to have, someone writing about my work, critically examining it!

Sometimes my fantasies haunt me(I am strictly talking about literature here!), till I repent on what I have done till now. 

              Nothing!! Nothing at all.

Realizing our dreams is difficult especially in a country like ours where we are crushed by stereotypes of our society forcing us to go deeper and deeper down the pit everyday, getting out thus becoming more and more difficult.

But we will break off someday!!

It's reading time again!! ;)

(P.S. If wanna know how strongly I feel about breaking off, go through my first poem in this blog 'AAZADIYAN' )

Have I turned into a Saint of sorts???

Have I turned into a Saint of sorts???

Have you ever wondered how your life would have turned around had you taken some other path? Have you ever given a second(or say third or fourth) thought to all decisions you make? Have you ever paused for a moment to ask yourself -"Is this what I want or what I need?"

This is me pausing for a moment to think, to reflect what I have become and what I should have become. After 21 years of self repenting in the name of education, morals and values I have come to realize that among the cacophony of people and things in your life, bliss lies in solitude. Solitude brings out the real you, the inner self of you, as philosophers say.

It gives you the space, the time needed to discover yourself, to unlock your inner treasures and to pacify yourself.

What has gotten into me? Till yesterday I was a "normal", happy to go person writing poetry, enjoying music and doing what needs to be done. What am I now? What am I yammering about? Turning all philosophical overnight. Had I dreamed of a sage teaching me values and morals, describing me the concept of inner peace? OR had something unknown  planted this idea in me?  

I don't know! I am still the same person who loves to write, to sing , to socialize yet I have changed, adding to the list of paradoxes my own one(Perhaps among the very few not involving time travel!).From my childhood I had loved to travel, to explore places and as I had grown and developed a sense of good and bad, I decided for my self that befriending strange people does not always turn out to be bad.(I thus turned out be an extrovert, making friends easily). This side of me my 'real' side was overshadowed by my 'virtual' side- "a side focused to do what's needs to be done at the time so that I will be lifted higher in this world, giving a true meaning to this life, as parents would say!". This is my 'real' side talking, working very hard to keep the other side dormant at this moment. As a person of this side, unbounded by constraints of achievements, I will still love to travel, to explore, to befriend strangers, even fall in love with someone someday.

I hope my other side is asleep and doesn't wake to find about the treacherous plot my 'real' side is plotting against it, how my 'real' side is trying to overcome my 'virtual' one with ideas of inner peace, love and solitude, because if that happens a war is in order and I know for now which side is the weaker one and will give up first.

So hoping that it doesn't go 'that' way, I am trying to be as quiet as possible while thinking of these ideas so that loudness of my thoughts does not wake my virtual reality and at the same time I am strengthening my 'real' reality so that when war is inevitable it wins.

We all have something to do in our lives, realizing it is the most difficult task. Now after the realization part I find doing it extraordinarily hard. But I will do it; I will travel, explore and also preach whenever necessary.

I will........