Blogless Moments

• Confusions & Inconclusive Decisions
• Dreams. They keep us going, right?
• Embarrassment, which rarely happens.
• Missing that old hand of support, yet again.
• A bit of nice work, for a change. Doubt if am in a roadside motel to take rest and move ahead?
• Owner of a moving gymn – A car that has its power steering stuck, which is now used to enhance the biceps. Seems Schwarzz (whatever his spelling is) is trying to become Cochin Mayor to gain access to this new facility.
• Met the old gangs and just relished their company. Blore Boyz - You are the ones! Premier No. 1 s.
• Good Positive Thinking.
• Lots of Laughs. Lot more smiles.
• Attend 3 marriages every weekend. Seriously doubt if some kind of ‘emergency’ is declared in Kerala?? Are people in a hurry to stop enjoying life? ;-)
• Tiny personal achievements including addendum of loans! But sure will think twice before doing anything related to construction/renovation of a house or buying land. Just eats your time.
• Many more movies, very less books (Strange!)
• Missed both Aaraatupuzha and Thrissur pooram. Fortunately caught Irinjalakuda pooram on time, with a satisfaction of having attended the closing pooram of the season.
  
  Sorry gang – 50 days that was, without blogging – I am going to be back soon.
  

Have a Good Night, Sir!

Just as his security manager had directed him he bowed his head ever so slightly without his security cap falling off, to be on a subservient note, as he held that glass door open with his mouth whispering the same repetitive tone “Have a Good Night, Sir”. The bending of head is supposed to prove the submission before the exquisite knowledge and talent of the kids who just walked out of college to the ever-so-fascinating stream of IT. Bending the head is very much a part of being a security, he was told. And like his foot he cared! He wanted to catch that idiot who had this heavenly light in his head about bending the head down to prove you to be meek. It’s just another gesture for earning his salary of which each tiny bit builds the food for his family, and there’s absolutely no more meaning attached to that. You bend your head down, and you earn your money. He often wondered what made the software engineers so hot, to let them earn so much money. Damn…He works much more than they do, that too on a 12-hour shift, to keep the floor secure, to jump up and open the door whenever someone decides to leave, (oh yeah! With the head bend down!), to carry all those gizmo computer stuff that arrives at the doorstep to the network store rooms of the company, to bring coffee to the managers, to save electricity when employees leave, and…. Well, it’s difficult to list everything down. Anyway, who cares?

It’s always interesting to watch the IT whiz kids work. A walk through the lobby and you realize that software is the best job in the block. You see most of the people working on some programs named orket or rocket or something. It seems this is the latest technology and the kids are really enthusiastic about learning it completely. Then there are chat specialists, who have around 10 chat windows open in the monitor and move their fingers with the mastery of Yehudi Menuhin to maneuver between these windows. They say that these chat windows provide a world of ‘opportunities’. It’s pretty amazing how they can think about opportunities, when they are working on a job that remotely requires you to do anything at all. Man is a greedy animal, indeed! Now we walk into the gossip zone. You see so many heads sealed close together as a huddle, and you wonder if it’s the cricket team. Then you understand that guys/girls are secretly devising the strategy to spy on the new beauty/hunk that’s joined in the block. He felt like saying “Ladies, if you looking for a hunk…. me the man, baby!”, but holding on to his security cap seemed to be the right priority at that moment. The manager was pretty busy as usual, as he was in the phone talking to his wife about the EMI rate comparisons and location of the flats. Manager had asked him not to forward any official calls to his extension, since his wife had this nice habit of cleaning the broom on his face if she’s stopped in between her conversation. Amidst this chaos, he used to see a few people who work like no end and he didn’t know how they could adjust to this crowd. The most interesting part about all these IT people is that when he bends his head down in the morning and evening, they pretend to be so full of work that they don’t even smile. Aaah…They had forgotten to smile. The only expression in their face is ‘frown’ and some extremely privileged people keep their face ‘plain sad’. He always wondered how they could earn astronomical salaries and still be unhappy, when people like him are struggling to make both ends meet and still manage to smile all the while. The key to good life might be less money, as someone great told. But he acknowledged that he too didn’t mind being a bit sad for some more money…. And then he cursed himself “Hey…I need to stand by my principles…but…ahem ahem”. But he had no doubt in his mind that the most hyped up career was that of an IT person’s. They don’t do anything that’s so worthy of the bloated up salary that they get, and they just make the life of common man so difficult by reducing the value of money. He always believed that those military personnel or a doctor or even a casual laborer deserved much more than these whiz kids.

Next day, he woke up in his hopes. He kept getting these visions about future in his sleep. He saw years flying past him, as he closed his eyes to a generation groomed with only the words ‘IT’ in mind. Nature and Greenery became an alien in this world. The world gradually fell into a dark glassy concrete alley where it finds no food but lots of computer programs. It kept growing till that black day came, which decided the paradigm shift. The Gates and Balmers just realized that they couldn’t eat windows and their attention rightly shifted to food. The world had completed that vicious circle of technology evolution and was heading right back to those ages of farming. He saw himself sitting in front of an infinitesimal paddy field, which was secured by huge walls. He opened those glass doors to the farmers who swiped in, to earn 6 figure salaries. These farmers work hard for their money the whole day and did a worthy job in that too. There were no complaints, no gossips and every face was gracious for this new world of light after a long stretch of darkness. More than anything he accepted the smiles that they gave him when they left for the day. It’s with a look of contempt that he tore off the resume of that useless IT manager who wanted to apply for the job of farmer. And he smiled at that beautiful sight of sun setting into the orange horizon as the green fields and shining silver streams danced together to that old song of nature. Now, he did not mind extended shifts too, when he stood right at the edge of that serene greenery, enjoying the waft, knowing that the world has become just that tad fairer as it ought to be. The night was as beautiful as it can get. The cool breeze rehearsing the paddy foliage to dance in the music of nature, an occasional shooting star sketching designs on a sky painted with blinking stars, the soft yellow candle lights wobbling at the distant houses, the slow rhythmic giggling of the flowing water…His world had become beautiful and his heart was never as full as it was. He slipped into a serene slumber, with a light heart. To peaceful days…to his dreams.



The knocking on his desk by the security officer disturbed his sleep. He heard the familiar sound say “I’ve to stick with the regulations. Another day’s salary gone…gone with your sleep. How can you be so irresponsible?”. He realized that he was still sitting in that old chair in front of that IT company. Nothing had changed, and his beautiful world seemed to be a dream. As his officer further despised his laziness, he smiled coldly. He could not have cared lesser about a day’s salary being lost. He knew what was holding for the future. He knew that the darkness will soon shed and the days of luminous moments will resume. Those expectations will fuse through, soon. And he could hardly wait, as he stood with his head high and said "Have a Good Night, Sir!".

The real leaders!

They say some leaders are born, and some evolve due to circumstances. They say leaders are populace who lead from the front, distributing the flowers showered on them to their cohorts and taking the brunt of hard-hitting brickbats single-handedly. Although the illustrious high profile leaders readily appear in our minds, have we ever contemplated about the less famous leaders whom we might have met in our lives, who have led astutely but yet remains just one among us? Well, this has been one thought that has been ringing bells in my mind for sometime, and I’ve been trying to recollect those who caught my eye as leaders even in a small inconsequential endeavor. Here are three among them.

Right towards the end of a very dull Michigan winter, I got a call from one Mr. Kapil Arora from JDM Systems Consultants asking about my interest in joining a new cricket club he was forming, to participate in the Detroit Cricket League. He brought together a group of enthusiastic cricket lovers for the team, and we christened the team as ‘Titans’. Kapil was the sole organizer and captain; he bought the cricket kit, arranged the practice sessions, scheduled practice matches with professional teams, maintained scores/statistics and got a bunch of novices to play the professional cricket league. He never got tired despite our team of amateurs loosing all the practice matches we played, despite the difficult job of pleasing everyone in the team by giving them chances to play in matches while making sure that we had a good enough team, and more than anything, making sure that all of us enjoyed spending the moments we spent on cricket. For all the days and nights that he spent for motivating the team, I am sure that Kapil Arora would have been the proudest person when his team Titans went on to win the Detroit Elite Cricket League, upsetting all the favorites en route. Cheers to one of the most honest, trustworthy and motivating leader I have - Kapil Arora, who deservingly remains as the president of DaimlerChrysler Cricket Association in Detroit.

Then there was our dear friend Choodan aka Anoop, who was the heart, vein and blood for the IT festival that we conducted in our B-Tech days. In the midst of other leaders who were given leadership tag-names for coordinating various activities, it was very evident as to who was the real leader who kept motivating us by his ‘no-talk, only-act’ attitude. He was omnipresent - for setting up the stalls, putting up the banners, running around for gathering enough PCs for the gaming area and even bringing water and food for the ‘otherwise’ busy guys. If we could point to one reason on why our first IT fest in Cochin University was a huge success, the fingers direct to one person who belonged to no committee, who just helped everyone day and night with an untiring ethic and non-egoistic attitude, who didn’t want any credit or tag for the work he did – our Choodan!

As mentioned in my previous post, Velu Appoopan, who was spending his life as a beggar after devoting his entire life for leading a miniscule village in Tamil Nadu to self-sufficiency, is the most inspiring. A man who gained nothing out of giving everything he had, to get the uneducated poor farmers to stand on their own feet. He defined some dimension of his own.

We tend to close our horizon with a defining boundary named ‘famous’, when we talk or think about leaders. Once we move out of that Horizon, we are exposed to an inspiring world of small leaders – the ones who do things differently in the tiny society that they live in. In a world where some people call themselves as ‘Leader’ and bribe the Guruvayoorappan for the forgiving the sins they’ve done during their tenure of ‘leadership’, I place my small leaders who remain bright in our day to day life, much higher – They are the ones that really matter. Maybe they are the ones who really makes us discover ourselves, who change our world!

Great leadership is about human experiences, not processes. Leadership is not a formula or a program, it is a human activity that comes from the heart and considers the hearts of others. It is an attitude, not a routine. -- Lance Secretan

As Appu lost himself

Appu was sitting in the veranda of his home, watching those raindrops percolate through the coconut leaves and shatter into a million minute droplets as it fell on the pebbles. The petite pools of water around seemed to linger for those tiny droplets, like a hungry cat waiting to devour its own litter. Rains always carried a wide range of emotions with it. He was reliving those old days, when that tender cold drizzle somehow rendered his psyche gloomy, when that sudden gushy flow of torrent made him march ahead with inspiration, when the flowing rhythmic rain slowly rambling on the leaves made his teenage life romantic. Rain always seemed to mystify him; he understood that rain had always remained a part of himself. And there he was - after all those years of roaming around, back in that old chair watching that slight drizzle turning into a ferocious downpour. There he was - drinking a glass of black tea, with a book in his hand. It was on the same chair that he let his adolescent mind wander free in those rains as the heroic Dostoevsky of ‘Oru Sankeerthanam Pole’ or in search of that lost ‘Athiranipadam’ of ‘Oru Deshathinte Kadha’. It’s been ages since he got some time in peace to himself, like this- with just books for his company. When he looked outside of the compound wall he felt that years had not moved at all, as he watched those different shades of umbrella cloths traipse through the road as if they had lives of their own – poor ones, elderly ones, indignant ones, bouncy ones and even colored ones. An old gray umbrella that walked quite slowly, took his mind to those old days.

It might have been in his school days when he was studying for the exams, that Appu noticed a hand with a gray discolored umbrella opening the gate to his home. It was raining from morning, and he saw an old hand clasping tight to the cloth bag that hung from the shoulder to prevent it from getting wet. As that gloomy shadow turned in the rain, he saw an old man with a wrinkled face and pure white beard walking towards him. He saw a kind smile on the old man’s face and the presence of a crude walking stick told him that the old man was a beggar. When he dropped a 25 paisa coin to the old man’s hand, he saw a kind grateful smile and a kind voice that seemed to come from his beard said “Let Murugan shower you with all the blessings.” The downpour had reduced to a drizzle when he saw the mystifying character closing the gate. That was the first time he saw ‘Velu Appoopan’.

Velu Appoopan used to come to his house every Saturday noon and call ‘Appooo… Dharmam Thaayo…”. And Appu would take the coins that he used to collect for his pocket money to raise a rupee for Velu Appooppan. Velu Appooppan used to tell the stories about his small hamlet near Palani, where they had lot of land in which they used to farm almost everything in the fertile soil, where the green paddy fields meet the blue sky at horizon, where the ‘Jallikkattu’ race is so much a part of everyone’s life. Their conversations went on for weeks, and Appu shared many a joke sitting in that veranda with Velu Appoopan when rain was lashing its soul out. He remembered putting his books down and listening to those tales from Velu Appooppan with an open mouth, with lot of worship. The stories ranged from the floods of 1950s that erased quite a number of souls of his farmer kin, the killer malaria which followed, that took his wife and sons with it, the cock fights and murders following that which used to ensue after harvest festival at his village. Appu was largely inspired and thrilled when he heard about how Velu Appoopan organized his villagers with his speeches and poems, even after he was down and out with the killer disease that took his family with it, how he built a farmers union to fight the case for the grand of agricultural land and how he became the chief of that village. Appu was mystified about why a village chief would roam around begging for food and coins. All Velu Appooppan told was “When everything is lost for yourself, and then you go through the process of gaining everything for others….there comes a time when you realize that you have served your purpose. If you are lucky, you reach that phase of your life - when you realize that you can keep smiling and you become a part of those clouds that travel places to keep raining with no tomorrow. But most of the people would be unlucky, as they keep standing in that rain, looking up at the pouring heavens, shivering in the cold, wondering when the rainy days would be over. I am glad that I am lucky to be a cloud that cools down places with these rains!”. He did not see Velu Appoopan after that…Maybe the cloud moved on to create new rivers…

Appu woke up from the trance and kept his glass down. The black tea had gone cold. He wanted to go back to those times; he wanted to become a child, sitting in that veranda hearing those heroic stories again. He wanted to see that wrinkled hand holding the gray umbrella, and the kind old face that told him inspiring stories with that constant wheezing of the raindrops in background. He wanted to gape his mouth in adoration, and dream about being a good man in the future. But…there he was. Sometimes years stop passing by, and you realize that it’s not Time that moves ahead – it’s just yourself that’s moving ahead and the time actually stands still. He walked into the rain. He felt those drops kissing his palm. He realized that he was smiling….he was floating around, in those clouds just like his Appoopan told him.

It took him sometime to realize that the music he was hearing was not that of nature, but of the mobile in his pocket. The usual voice told him “Test case 248 is failing. Report immediately. Priority 1”. Appu jumped back to the veranda. His mind wandered to the test case and the priority deadlines of the work. He looked up into the pouring skies, shivering in the cold, wondering when the rain would stop. As he cursed the rain, little did he realize that he was that unlucky human, just like Appooppan told him. Appu just kept looking at the firmament….And rain fell down in buckets. He kept staring at the horizon, as the rain began to blur his vision … He steadily dissolved in it, as he lost himself.

* - Picture courtesy - Dhanush

Indefinite Strike strikes again!

Private bus owners in Kerala were definitely on ‘Indefinite strike’. Well, Yet again! And No – This time it’s not over the mounting gas prices. They were protesting against the Supreme Court order of putting speed governors in the bus. They had affirmed that this court order was gross ‘injustice’ to the work ethics of their ‘very quick’ community. Their points were very legitimate and I feel that government and justice should not haunt these poor bus owners with ‘inhuman tactics’ like speed reduction. Let them contribute further to the nation.

These were reported to be their contributions to the nation as mentioned in bus owners/operators petition to the government:

1. We, the peaceful bus operators, know the worth of time. We made a decision - for our country, for its GDP rise, with nothing other than ardor in our mind – that we will risk our own lives to take our passengers at 120 km/hr so that time is not lost. Sometimes they don’t reach the correct place, but they still reach a place where they should reach eventually –Mortuary! See – We deliver the passengers early, sometimes by years.

2. While many research scientists in US are trying to crack the speed of light, we regularly shatter it with an extra 100 passengers through a special skill called ‘matsara ottam’ (competitive racing) in a special environment that can hardly be termed as road. You guys will realize our worth only when we get the Nobel Prize for this remarkable achievement next year.

3. All the big people made their mark by knowing the difficulties in life, and then climbing the ladder to their destination. If you see our bus in the morning, we train a lot of guys to become excellent people by making them climb the ladder behind the bus, and take them to destination. Some fall by, some reach there – but hey, that’s life!

4. When governments and police are trying hard to evacuate roadside shops in the midst of all these mobs, we easily manage to evacuate them by running into these shops every now and then.

5. We are able to envisage the future. Many a times, in traffic signals, we get the intuition that the signal will turn green within a minute, through our sixth sense. As described in point 1, why squander time when you know what’s going to happen – so we set an example by racing our bus immediately! Some idiots driving their vehicles seeing the green signal, without being able to predict their future signal to be red, become ‘futureless’ in the process. Very natural indeed.

6. Major aim of our nation is to reduce population. Leave the implementation part to us. Trust us, we will deliver. We do a CMM level 5 business. Maybe we will come up with some service license agreements with national population control forum.













As I was coming home sometime back, I saw a couple of flashily colored private buses full of people from North Kerala whizzing down NH47 for NCP-DIC merger, and prompty swearing in the most uncivilized language at a family with little kids in a car, for the heinous crime of stopping at a red signal. The merger is unquestionably heading to be a huge success for its 'humanitarian values', not to mention the liquor bottles that were circulating freely on the bus. And, just 2 weeks back, I saw a private bus running in Aluva-Ernakulam route overspeeding and jumping the HMT Signal, hitting an old man driving a scooter. As the man was lying in a puddle of blood, the private bus driver didn’t even show a bloody human emotion to stop and see if he was alive. Thankfully a flying squad came flying, and the man (who happens to be a shopkeeper near my place) escaped just in the nick of time.

It’s high time that some one jumps in and does something about these ruthless rogues. The callousness needs to be snapped by the décolletage. Be it through speed governors or through modern ‘Anniyans’!!

Motorcycle Diary - Ramakkalmedu

Trip Date:

October 21, 2006

Destination:

Ramakkalmedu, Idukki, Kerala

Start Time:

6:30 am - Oct 21, 2006

End Time:

7:00 pm – Oct 21, 2006

Total Drive Time:

9 hours, rest accounting for breaks and sightseeing.

Riders:

My Cousin Manu and Me

Vehicles:

Royal Enfield Thunderbird (Me) and Kinetic Blaze (Manu)

Distance covered:

346 kms with around 300 kms of hill route. Although my previous biking trip from Bangalore-Wayanad spanned 800 kms, it had very less hill route drive.

Top Speed:

74 kmph, while overtaking a Truck in the beautiful MC Road. Otherwise maintained consistent speeds of 40 kmph on hill routes and 60 kmph on normal roads.

Fuel Consumption:

The giant 350CC engine of Thunderbird drank just 7.85 liters of petrol for the 346 kms, giving me a record mileage of 44 kmpl, for a trip that had almost 300 kms of hill route drive. I salute thee, the Legend!

Tour Bag:

Cramster Stallion Military Camouflage biking bag.

Tour Kit:

Spare Clutch & Accelerator cables, Spark plug and Fuse for the Thunderbird, Extra Cloths for the riders, 5 litres of Tang, Registration & other essential papers for the bikes, First aid kit, Chocolate bars, Canon Powershot S50 digital camera, Flashlight and Swiss Knife

Route to Destination:

Kalamassery- Aluva- Perumbavoor- Kothamangalam- Neriamangalam- Karimanal- Cheruthoni- Kattappana- Ramakkalmedu through NH47, NH49 and majority through normal broken roads

Route from Destination:

Ramakkalmedu- Kattappana- Cheruthoni- Thodupuzha- Muvattupuzha- Perumbavoor- Aluva- Kalamassery through SH33, MC Road, NH49, NH47

Road Conditions:

Hats off to Kerala State Government for that State Highway 33 from Thodupuzha to Kattappana. Spectacular would be a lesser word about this road – Spotless and Perfect with great road grip. Great curves made very safe with correct bordering of tar and warning signs. Awesome drive. MC Road is also in a great condition, and looks like interstate highways of US. But, NH 49 is nothing short of pathetic reminding me of soil excavations at places, while NH 47 is just ordinary. NHAI really has something to learn from SH 33. The road to Idukki through Neriamangalam-Karimanal is quite bad, but the ride offers quite a lot of beautiful views.

Destination Features:

Ramakkalmedu is a beautiful view spot in Tamil Nadu-Kerala border, giving breathtaking views of Kambamnaadu villages in TamilNadu on one side and the villages around Kattappana in Kerala on the other side. The view and greenery is nothing short of spectacular, and the gushy wind proves that this place is one of most windy places in South India. The giant 40ft statue made by sculptor CB Jinan, depicting Kuravan and Kurathi (tribals) is nothing short of spectacular. Being a lesser-known tourist location makes the place even more peaceful and blessed. In short Ramakkalmedu is 'Where wind plays its heavenly bliss!'. Feels like God’s own country, indeed!

Interesting Conversations:

I was coming out of a local hotel near Karimanal on the way to Idukki, when this seemingly well-dressed and educated gentleman approached me, after keenly monitoring my Royal Enfield Thunderbird for a few minutes.

The Gentleman: Your bike?

Me: Yes, Sir. (Thots: He’s noted it! )

The Gentleman: Hmmm… (looking at the sides, handle etc)

Me: :) (Thots: Seems to be a bike lover. Must be a knowledgeable person)

The Gentleman: My son also has a Thunderbird

Me: Wow! (Thots: So this guy is an expert!)

The Gentleman: He bought it 10 years ago.

Me: Ehhh? (Thots: Oops. That must be a mistake. TB is 2002 release)

The Gentleman: His Thunderbird had right side gears.

Me: Oh ohhh…(Thots: Syntax Error. Only left side gear found. )

The Gentleman: Handle was not curved. It was straight.

Me: Ngeyy?? My Gawd! Ahem..Push slowly sir. (Thots: My god. Bulls horns are straight?)

The Gentleman: How many gears?

Me: 5 (Thots: Now, Whats that question for?)

The Gentleman: Might be a cheaper version. His one had 6

Me: Including neutral! :) (Thots: One must be spare! OR He must have had a bulldozer, sir)

The Gentleman: And he bought it new for 55,000.

Me: What a Deal! (Thots: Next he will say - in spite of being offered a minister post, Karunakaran rejected it!) and I start running towards my bike

The Gentleman (shouting over my shoulder): And my son’s bike engine was……….

Me: Thumppp…Started the bike and escaped!! (Thots: his son’s engine surely was Google Search Engine!)

Other Bikers:

Not many. Saw a Foreigner driving a brand new Royal Enfield Thunderbird (black/silver) to Kattappana through the SH 33, and he had a ‘naadan’ chap with a ‘lungi’ as his pillion and guide. Then saw couple of ‘real’ bikers with long hair, beard and cup type helmets driving on an old Bullet Standard 350 – the moment they saw the Bird, they started shouting and waving the hands! Was nice to see the long runners!

Incidents:

None, except almost every single person on the road ogling at us and hearing comments like “Nokkedaa!” (“Look there!”). Had a nice time when we overtook a school tour party and the kids started clapping and whistling…

Overall Ride Feel:

Safe, Beautiful and Serene!

But, I missed the company of Dhanush’s Red Bird as much as I missed his Chikmangalur trip. I hope we make the Bangalore-Pondi trip soon!

Ride Safe, All!

Alexis' Tag - II

The versatile Alexis Leon tagged me almost 2 months back. And the eversolate me is finishing the tag only now!

I am thinking about how I can make my carpenter finish the furniture work at home that he should have finished 40 days back. The best scheme till now is to assault him with my Chalus (PJs).

I said what I said. I am trying to take some back, but can’t. Seems there is some error in my system. :)

I want to do something that makes me feel contented when I seal my eyes. I might well be on the way for it.

I wish that world is a better place, which does not make me feel undeservingly fortunate.

I miss no no. I mister :). I miss a person who used to give me answer to all the questions I asked.

I hear the silence and start dissolving in it. Then I hit my head in the keyboard, which made me wear a helmet, while sleeping at work. :)

I wonder if the valley would turn green tomorrow. I wonder if tomorrow would rise as a Utopia.

I regret absolutely nothing, except a few things ;-).

I am a mystery to myself. I hired Scotland Yard to solve it. They committed suicide.

I dance when I hear ‘duppankoothu annaachi’ songs.

I sing and they declare Nationwide Hartal.

I cry in my mind, without tears.

I am not at all a serious chap as people think I might be….

I write stuff that basically can be termed as crap.

I confuse myself by thinking what I would do if I was the person I see in front of me. I think I have exhausted a key fraction of my life doing this.

I need my thoughts, my drive towards my dreams and some time to let it evolve.

I should try to control my temper, which I only show to people really close to my heart.

I finish only when I get finished. Till then, let the madness continue.

Anyone interested can pick this tag. Alexis - This one was real nice.

The fall into our heart

He was still falling, facing the firmament above, with the advices about the Swami still lingering in the back of his mind. They, the society, were creating a racket about those protracted journeys of endurance that Swami went through to attain the state of definitive knowledge. He expected the halo of awareness that was possessed by the Swami to change his world over. But he was helpless, he was diminishing everyday.

It seems like a long time since he enthused away from his world. He seemed to be isolated into an act, with hardly any streak of light around. He could hear the movements around him – the sense of breath and anxiety that spread. The vicious sorrow that surrounded him seems to have gradually sunk into the environment. The dear ones realized it and have moved into the reality of day to day life. Life started moving on, and he still tried to spread his age old graceful self, but he was miserable, the descend never stopped. Then, as it was destined, days after he met Swami, he decided to do exactly what he was supposed to do.

He went back to those early days…His mind was nomadic….It moved across those blue oceans and hopped on to relish those green meadows. It played with the white snow and walked beneath the calm silence of the palm trees. It ran through the heights of the tallest peak, and it was there – capturing the essence of life. Yes, his mind was at its zenith, its best. But all of that eternal luminosity was suddenly blinded by that deep plunge into the gorges. He knew he dived into that…So much was the temptation. He was pulled in by his craving. It’s not fair, because he knew his mind swept itself to unknown territories. Still, he was sucked in by the vacuum. He has been falling deep down for years now – and the worst part is, he is not over yet. He tried holding on to those hands trying to save him, but in vain. He seemed to be trenching into a journey of his own…He started to think that he liked where he was going, but those around him did not. He tried to escape, but the attempts were rendered futile. Suddenly, It grabbed him…Swami’s hands were neat. They tried to inject that passion to move ahead. At least in a direction that everyone around him thought was forward. Swami was ever smiling, with that narrow of sense of guilty tenacity around his smile. He could feel strength emanating from the hand that held him. Swami’s hands were guiding him. Swami’s voice filled his psyche – ‘Bury your past. Gaze only at the future.’

He started packing. He started searching his brains. He picked out those spots, those binary chips that held his memories. He started piling them into that black box. It was tough. There was too much of data he had to scrape through. But he knew his life. He had his memories, which always cheered him up, which made him smile, and which made him dive into that deep valley of unknown. He packed them all. With his new felt energy, he started digging deep in the soil. He pushed that black box into that hole in the hot core of earth, and closed it. His heart felt lighter. He started to float around. There were claps all around, the society around him applauded as he became a new being. He felt elated. Swami was great – Swami managed to hold on to him, and make him divert the journey to a better path. They all were so right, everything felt so much in place.

As he started to walk back, he noticed that his foot imprints were no longer binding on that moist beach. His evening shadows seemed to be missing, and he saw that he no longer cast any physical attributes. He felt disturbed. He jumped head first into the rocks, but there was no pain. He was not himself. He saw that his individuality has been robbed. He transformed into a walking ghost with his identity buried. He could not stand it anymore. The pain was unbearable. He ran back to that hole and started digging….he was very far, but still….

It might be late, but he was sure…Contrary to what they say, it’s not about burying your past, it’s more about building on your history. He decided to persist his fall into that spacious and green valley which made his dream. He ignored the loathe of society. He kept on digging. He thought he saw Swami's hands burning in that heat. He kept excavating deeper. He needed to liberate his memories and be gratis. He wanted to drop free. Into the nadir…into those remote trenches. Again....Yet again…He wanted to fall into his heart....