Own a Mac! You'll know.

My first laptop was a Toshiba Satellite. It was big and bulky and made growling noises when you ran heavy applications or watched movies. I owned this laptop from 2004 to 2007. On my return trip from India in 2007 - the airline employee at the security checkin told me I was way over the weight limit for my carry on luggage. The heaviest thing in my bag was the laptop and I decided to leave it back in India. When I came back to the States, I missed not having my own computer, but I never missed the Toshiba per se. 

Some 2 weeks later, I won an in-state tuition waiver and suddenly came in possession of a good chunk of money. It was then that I decided that I would use it to get a new laptop. I was of course only considering windows laptops, dells, anything cheap and reliable. Having grown up in India, I had never heard of an Apple and I had never heard of Steve Jobs. I first encountered Apple, when I bought the iPod shuffle on a thanksgiving deal. It was fundamentally simple and literally spelled out all it could do. On my laptop hunt, I wandered into the university book store which was sporting the new line of Apple products. This was strictly window shopping! After all if an Indian student is supposed to buy a laptop, its going to be a crazy great deal - a cheap laptop and it will be online. This was definitely window shopping. 

And then, I held a Macbook! I couldn't describe what was it that I felt. But I instantly connected  with it. This was different, this guy had a personality, he didn't copy other people, he didn't compromise to please masses - it was different! I with my Indian upbringing and zero knowledge of Apple or individualism - knew it. It resonated in a place deeper than conscience. And of course, I instantly bought it. With a debit card! Yep - $1300 cash - gone! 

And then of course the comments started pouring in. Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind ? You spent $1300 on a laptop ?? Without research? No deals? Do you even know what applications will run on a mac? Oh my GOD!! YOU are so stupid!! What would your parents say ? You really wasted that much money ??? You have no knowledge of linux, you have no knowledge of unix!! You didn't see the first mac, you didn't evolve in the US - YOU have no right to buy a MAC ?? Do you see any other Indian student buying a mac? YOU are nuts!

Yep I was resoundingly disowned by the Indian student community. And yet, I didn't care! I was in love. And that was the first time I had fell in love with an inanimate object. Because somehow, this object wasn't inanimate. It wasn't just a piece of equipment sitting somewhere. Wherever it was kept, it stood out. It was different in the way light bounced off of it. It was different when you were using it. It looked years and ages ahead of all other computers in the store. And it was never about the actual configuration or computing power of the machine! This was my Mac. Let me repeat that - this was MY mac. I looked after it like a parent of a newborn. 

The media is awash now about the brilliance of Steve Jobs and complex analysis of what made Apple successful. But for me, all questions were answered in that first meeting with a Macbook. It was unspoken, subtle, deep, profound and almost an instant connection. Simply put - the Macbook had a soul! 

I still have that Macbook, I can't fathom selling it. I might give it to another family member to use. But I will always inquire and worry about how IT is being treated. Four years on - even now, if I accidentally bump my Mac on something, I rub the laptop where it hit and say sorry to my Mac!

And that is the best tribute anyone can pay to Steve Jobs!

- Sanket

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Mumbai beckons!!

In a couple of months now, I am going to be back in India. And it has taken me a long four and a half years to get to this trip. My close friends say, I have changed - and they are right. I have - in many ways large and small. India has changed too - in fact drastically so. From what I hear, the thing that hits hard is just how expensive things have become. That fact along with my extended family's illusion that everyone in the US is filthy rich just because they earn in dollars - has made me nervous to say the least. 

In the past whenever I have gone back home, I have done so to take a vacation and to recharge. Somehow, this trip feels different. No - I am not going to get A-range marriaged - and I am confident that once the hopefuls have figured out just how D-ranged I am - they too will adopt sanity and give up. No, the difference is that in this trip I have a lot on my mind and a lot of questions about my personal and professional life. As it has so many times before - I  am hoping the rocks of Marine Drive will answer my questions in salted whispers. 

I will be in Mumbai on Nov 26th. And I plan on visiting each and every one of the 10 places that were attacked three years ago. My friends tell me: "Don't make a big deal out of it" - perhaps they are right in their perspective. But for me that date will remain ingrained - it was the first time that I seriously questioned my belief in India. The events of those three days and the statements made by politicians - left me dazed and disillusioned. I had a thanksgiving break at the time - I had friends over, and other than sit helplessly in front of CNN, there wasn't much else we could do. It was then I realized that one of the most fundamental differences between the developed and the developing - is their value for human life. The contrast was stark and heartbreaking. And it changed something inside me forever. I was convinced that nothing will change the Indian political system and that at the end of the day - the ordinary citizen will remain the cheapest commodity. At the same time, it also crystallized a reality - that we have to try anyway. 

Let me admit here that I have no credentials to criticize how India works. And that isn't my intent either. And if you happen to resent my statements, I understand you.  I do not myself know what role can I, will I - play in shaping this country of my birth. Except that - my countrymen's judgements aside, I will hold on to this privilege and I can not wait to find out. There have been some that have given me hope. Among them is Parth - a sixteen year old scrappy kid - he has plunged head long into activism and protests - forming online forums and gathering friends to fight for the right causes. When I saw his optimism and zeal, to be honest, I didn't encourage it and in fact through my comments, I raised some pretty cynical and valid objections to his operandi. I am glad to admit - I was proven wrong. Despite popular belief - the youth of India understand their stake in the country and are anything but apathetic. 

And so when I go back home, I hope to meet this young man - and I hope he will be considerate enough to guide me. 

Also looming large in my mind is the question of marriage. After all, none less than five of my close friends are tying the knot this winter. But to be honest, the gravity of this decision and the weight of this institution seem overwhelming to me. In my experience of meeting people, making friends and falling in love - I have come to appreciate the infinite complexity of what makes us unique - of what defines our personalities. And I have no confidence in claiming to understand a person, despite prolonged acquaintance. To think that people tend to do so based on a one page profile boggles my mind. 

It was in Mumbai when I first came to understand love. It was in Mumbai that my vision of romance was nursed and nurtured through infinite movies and soulful music. It was Mumbai that patiently explained to me what holds India together. What drives every one of us.  That family playing on Juhu chawpati..... that couple stealing illusionary privacy. I hope the familiar waves of Arabian sea will explain this to me once more. And I hope they will help me reconcile a new and radically different vision of romance. 

I keep having these flashbacks - a vestige of the fun times I had in Mumbai as a college student. That friend circle is not only married now, but also has kids. In a depressing way - I know with some finality that my memory of what Mumbai meant will never recur again. Its for the best, you are meant to live in the present and shape your future, living in the past has never helped anyone. 

Either way in two months, I will land and buy myself a one month railway pass to CST, stand the door with the wind in my hair and hear what my beloved city has to say. 

- Sanket

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Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara

They say sometimes you have to be lost to find your way. I have stayed away from this place for a while now. And it has allowed me to look at ADifferentQuill from a distance. And I realized that in the thirst for being appreciated, I stopped doing on this site what I loved most - writing for the sake of writing itself. Writing became more a means to massage my ego than being happy. So in true spirit of the change, I am going to base this article on a completely unpretentious topic  - a movie review!

'Zindagi Na Milegi Dobara' by Zoya Akhtar was a rather surprise delight. For the first time in a long while, I left the theatre feeling happy and light. Comedy films entertain you for a bit, but the laughter dies down later on. Drama films, when good, get you to think about serious issues, but the strain is unsustainable for long periods of time - and you soon tend to put it out of your mind and move on. But this film is different. More than laugh, it makes you smile. And by the end just delivers a simple message - as if saying - "Hey You!, Smile you idiot - you are alive and breathing, be happy for that" And truly celebrates the act of simply being alive. 

The jokes are practical and down to earth. The kind of fun you can encounter in real life when you are hanging out with friends. The story is actually a snapshot of 3 lives for a week. Of three close friends meeting for a vacation. All of them are in some way occupied by their problems and baggages. But by the end of it, they realize that sometimes letting go is the best thing you can do to help yourself. The message is nuanced and I am not sure how well it might be received in main stream Indian audience. But the film is technically sound and should do very well none the less. 

The direction is simple, sometimes too simple but the photography is breath taking. The film aptly shows the coming of age for Bollywood and in some sense India itself. It has a global presence and theme to it. The shooting is on par with the best of the film industry. Larger than life when needed, it is still grounded enough to actually move you when intended. 

The music is exhilarating, fresh and alive in every beat. Guitar is to Spanish music what tabla is to Indian. And in this film, the songs are mostly guitar based. This gives them a simplicity and freshness that is the exact opposite of the audio palette of a semi-classical Indian song. The lyrics are beautiful and Javed Akhtar's poetry is sublime. 

I loved the cast, its youthful, uncomplicated and multinational. The kind of global citizens modern Indian youth would aspire to be. Hritik Roshan is subdued but ever present, he is too much of a star to be just a mere part of the story, Abhay Deol is pleasant and grows on you. But the real surprise is Farhan Akhtar - this is an actor who plays well within his own limits, and his rendition of the comedy is the most natural I have encountered on screen in a while. Katrina Kaif does her part well. It is impossible to ignore her when she is in the frame. And in some instances, you really do forget to follow the dialogues, the scenery and be simply in awe of how gorgeous she can be. 

The location of Spain has clearly paid off. And for the song of "Senorita" - which is partly spanish, adds beautiful authenticity to the play. You have to give it up for the music director's guts to let a song be in a foreign language - and trust it entirely to the rhythm for the audience to love it. The Senorita song demonstrates aptly the sensuality and pleasure that is inherent in Spain and its singers. 

It is a remarkable contrast to the Indian culture. Where often times, in favor of seeking spirituality, pleasure is looked down upon. The Spanish culture on the other hand celebrates pleasures and the people for wanting it. These are a people who are not afraid to ask for extra helpings of ice cream, a more toungy kiss, an extra night with a lover and have a society that won't fault them for wanting it. It makes their poetry extremely sensual and its honest expression, endearingly human. 

It complements the film beautifully in its message for asking people to celebrate life. Well - whats new about that ? True, we have heard these cliches for so long, we probably just tune them out by now. But there is something to it. A few years ago I became friends with a person who was genuinely happy. Not that there weren't any problems or sadness - but for the most part, this person was - happy. It got me thinking and I discovered the secret of happy people - they are truly able to live every moment. I know, I know ... what does that even mean - are we to stop our car every time we see a sunset or what .. 

Imagine that you are having a dinner party and are cooking for your friends. To indulge yourself, you are having a small cup of ice cream while cooking. And while chopping your veggies, you accidentally cut your finger. Most people will completely focus on the finger and the pain, its overwhelming and begs attention. The happy people I have found - can not only attend to the cut, but also savor the ice cream they were having in the first place. The thing is life seldom serves you ice creams on a plate with no distractions. And most of us when we think of happiness, want that unadulterated, undiluted and undisturbed experience of happiness. The trick is to savor a happy moment regardless of where it occurs. So if you enjoy rain, enjoy rain even when its because you have a flat tire and you are forced to stand on the road. And the people we find are most happy - are the people who are better at this. 

They don't lie to themselves or ignore their problems, but they don't trash the good things thoughtlessly either. And there lies the message of the film, so go out and see it and enjoy it. Go for a run, an evening walk, sit by the sea or like in my case, just get over yourself and write! 

Cheers,

 - Sanket

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Shadows

The flowers have withered,
And their scent is past
The evenings once spirited and bright
Are now shadowed and overcast
Meet me soon, Alas just like them
My smile too is lost ...


 - Sanket

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Safar

तपती रेत पर चलते कोसो दूर आ गए है 

मंजिल तोह दूर अब घर भी भूल चुके 

इस बेरेहेम सफ़र पर हम खुद सिफार हुए है 

लेकिन कोई कसक है ओढ़े हुए 

शायद मिल जाये एक तालाब, काबिल ऐ प्यास 

और उस ही के दर्पन मे तुम्हारी एक झलक भी

- संकेत 

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Moment of truth

This conversation we began

I know not where 'd we start

Threads of thought forked in-numerous

Broke down walls 
And we talked.

Through evenings and nights and hours unheard

Through tears and anger and ecstasies untold 

'Til now that we stand in this net

And wherever I see,

Are tracks of our footsteps

I cant imagine how I travelled alone.

The footsteps are etched,

As tough carved in stone.

They reassure and yet, terrify

For I fear, the winds I once loved

Could erase our marks forever.

Or that you might walk away

And leave my heart severed

We've morphed our likes

To suit one another

And now they are so changed,

Even wanting we can not avert

Alas my friend,

It is the moment of truth

And I have to ask,

Shall we trudge snow and sand

And climb and fall together ?

Or shall you now let go,

And into this earth

Should I disappear ?

- Sanket

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Floating Visions

The earth is soft and cool beneath, 

I can feel the blades of grass

Gently pressed under me, 

Green, young and slightly moist

 Still yet breathing

And I see shifting shadows through closed lids 

Playing - capering - laughing 

As I nestle my head deeper in her lap

Treasuring and preserving

The warmth under my hair

I follow the act and listen to the shadows 

I can hear the merry and begin to smile

A shy, scented drop awakens my skin

And I open my eyes to hold her face

Words elude and sounds fade off

As I marvel a new meaning to beauty

I drink with thirsty eyes

The oval that is my world

Circled lovingly in dark flowing hair

Velvet like silk and soft as silence

Coy and demure

I drink with thirsty eyes

The delicate curve of her neck

Just within reach and yet not

The contours, sensuous and tempting

I nestle my head and smile back

I see myself reflected

In liquid pools of light

See myself anew

Alive and well

Through her eyes

I trace the exquisite lips

Longing their flavor 

Craving through parch 

I want to lift myself

But the warmth lets not

Oh it is such a strife

Painful yet nurturing

An impish pleasure

A sight devine

I drink with thirsty eyes

And I beg life

If this is a dream

Don't wake me up just yet

- Sanket

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A Spring Memory

It was the fifth of December 2005 and I was flying into the Salt Lake City international airport. It was a cold, dreary afternoon and the next 2 months would come to mark a most crucial and extraordinary time of my life.  There are moments that everyone experiences – moments of realization and clarity – rare to come by but instantly recognizable.  As the airplane touched the tarmac, I knew I was having one of those moments – and it terrified me.  I realized that everyone connected to me – my parents, friends – had done all that they could, to get me to this point – and from here on it was up to me - I was alone – truly and completely alone. It was the first time, I’d felt myself so vulnerable and scared. 

After failing to secure tuition funding for the first two semesters at my University, I had accrued a massive debt and when it was clear to me that no financial help was to come, I decided it was time for me to look elsewhere.  I looked at the list of universities that had accepted me, but which I had declined.  Long conversations with alumni and emails from faculty led me to believe that Utah State University was my best shot at short-term financial security. Like many decisions in life, it was one that wasn’t necessarily the best option – but the one that made most sense under circumstances. I had to live with it – and make my best of it.

The struggles and debates of the past six months played out in my mind as I sat in the window seat – peering distractedly at the changing landscape of eastern United States.  To sum up – I had roughly $500 in a bank account and an admission – period.  My list of supplies ended there.  I didn’t have any money to pay for tuition (9 graduate credits minimum) – hardly any money for rent and certainly none for an emergency.  My phone was still active for another month and the 500 would get me through for as much time – as I checked off the short list with a growing sense of foreboding, I felt like a role playing video game character with depleted resources and one life left. Except, there weren’t any replays here.  The frigid teen degree air of Utah brought me back to reality. Having grown up in Mumbai – it was the first time I had felt anything remotely so cold.  I cursed my ill-fitted clothing and rummaged hastily through the carry-on – wearing every piece of shirt I could find.  Twenty minutes later, I was standing outside in the pick up area – awkward looking and with a frozen expression of worry on my countenance.

Utah State University - My Alma Mater - image credit - http://www.ridingandwritingutah.com

I checked myself into a friends place – the local Indian Student Institute was kind enough to board me for a week with some seniors – after an unexciting dinner, I forced myself to sleep – then I woke up – took off 3 shirts – turned up the heat a notch – and went back to sleep again.  There was a LOT of work ahead!

The next day, I took a bus to the campus and within an hour was interviewing for a grader’s job in the Computer Science department.  I got the job, it paid only $513 a month, but it waived my out of state tuition fee.  I thanked the professor dearly and asked the secretary for a signed copy of the job offer and its terms.  Next I scanned the student message board for some cheap apartments near campus and another three hours later found myself in the offices of Coldwell bankers signing a lease agreement. I put down the deposit and consciously informed the official that I could only give him a post-dated check for the rent.  My grader’s salary wasn’t due until the first of next month and I could only supply the offer letter as credence that the check would go through.  The property manager quietly reviewed the paper work and my offer letter – he had no obligation to entertain me – and I nervously waited for his decision.  Finally, looking up he extended a hand and gave me the apartment keys. I gingerly pocketed the keys and thanked the man – and offered my bank statement as proof that I really could not afford to pay rent immediately.  He assured me that it wasn’t needed and that he believed me. It would be one of the many unexpected acts of kindness from random strangers that I would never forget.

Snowcrest Apartments - Logan Utah

I arranged my belongings in the new space, and ate a bowl of cereal – after a few more minutes of sleep – I sat at the desk and jotted down a study schedule – to earn the tuition waiver and retain my status as a graduate student, I would need to clear three entrance examinations – failure to do so meant expulsion.  But I wasn’t going to let it come to that – not now. 

Over the next four weeks, I followed a strict regimen – waking up at 8am – going to the library  - studying for 4 hours – a sandwich for lunch – an hour of shut eye on the third floor – another four hours of study – coffee – sandwich for dinner – leave the library at 12 and walk back home to sleep.  No – they wouldn’t let me sleep at the library. I had asked. 


It would be months before I would be able to absorb and truly appreciate the grand vista of natural beauty and snow capped mountains that my library provided. Amidst my studies I talked to the registrars office and drew up a payment schedule for the remainder of my in-state tuition fees.  Again my University went out of its way to ensure that I still stayed enrolled in classes as I paid my way through - there aren't many institutions willing to do that. 

Some six weeks into my semester,  I was told that I had cleared the preliminary requirements and that I was also granted an in-state tuition waiver.  I received the news gladly – then went to the local Walmart – bought some groceries and came back home.  I left the bags on the kitchen counter – the apartment was empty – none of my two roommates were home.  Seizing the opportunity – I quietly slipped into the bathroom and turned on the sink and the shower taps. 

Then I sat myself on the bathroom floor – knees to the chest  - arms folded and said aloud – ‘hey – you are in your own apartment – you have groceries  - you have a steady income and you are doing well in school’ – and then I let myself feel – everything that I had been holding off – the terrifying crushing paralyzing fear – the full weight of my responsibilities – my own expectations – and the doubts of friends and foes – and above all – the overwhelming sense of relief at what was accomplished – and then I broke down – and cried quietly – cathartically – shaking – muffling – rocking back and forth – and then - finally exhausted and completely drained – I patted myself on the back – stood up – and made myself 2 scrambled eggs and toast.

Some couple years later, I ran wild across a green football ground – dressed in black robes – a tassel in my hand and the ecstasy of graduation in my veins – but I didn’t think of the bathroom floor then.  I don’t know why I thought of  it now. But its good that I did– it needn't kept in – I am OK now that its out. And I smile I say to myself – “Hey that was you – you did it !!“

- Sanket

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The skies above

A few days ago, NASA announced that we were going to get to see a 'Harvest Moon'. A 'Harvest Moon', comes only once every four years and a 'Super Harvest Moon' comes only once in a decade. Filled with excitement, I took out my little telescope and aimed it at our bright satellite - It took my breath away! I have seen the moon through a telescope - many times, I have even sat down observing, for hours the moon's contours and compared them with the maps I had. But till that night, I had never seen the moon so bright and so gorgeously luminous. The harvest moon revived, two of my dormant passions in a single night - that for star gazing and that for photography. The former more rewarding than the latter. 

[Image used under license agreements from - http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/en/7/78/Harvest_moon.jpg]

As I sat on the floor of my balcony, blackening my peripherals and breathing evenly to calibrate my instrument, I realized just how much I loved my little telescope. At the time I'd bought it, I had just finished my 10th grade exams, and had saved that entire year's pocket money in the hopes of buying myself a telescope. Finally when the money brimmed enough, I emptied the deposits and bought myself a starter refracting telescope. With the money left, I bought myself tickets to an astronomy show at the Nehru Planetarium and as always, astronomy mesmerized me and lifted my imagination to soaring heights.  

There is something so marvelous and so magical about watching celestial objects through a telescope - that in all honesty, I can not hope to capture it in words. If you have never seen the craters of the moon, or the rings of Saturn through a telescope - I beg you to take the time out and try it - just once, it will not fail to enthrall you! 

The first time I saw our Moon through my new telescope, it was the monsoon of '98. I had camped for the better part of an hour on the sheltered stairs of our building's terrace in the hope that the rains would stop - and I would get a chance to try out my new toy. Every now and then, I ventured out into the open and impatiently gazed at the sky to check if the cloud cover was dispersing. I hadn't been able to see the Moon - except find a bright spot in the sky veiling the shiny ball. 

At last when the rains stopped, I dashed out and dried myself a patch of ground and began to set up my telescope. My sister - a covert optimist - who had been waiting for my word, had already ran up the stairs many times trying to asses the success of my experiment - and along the way - had communicated as many reprimands from my parents for staying up that late.  I tried to ignore her while focussing my line of sight on the brightest spot I could find. Every now and then an edge would appear - giving me hopes that I might be able to get a clear window in the clouds  - just long enough to fine tune my focal length and render a sharp image. 

After a few persevering minutes, the wind finally picked up and the clouds started to dart faster. Every time I got a peek at the moon, I would adjust my telescope a bit more. My sister  - realizing that I hadn't heard a word she said, sensed that I was onto something and decided to wait until I erupted with shouts of success. 

And then  - at last the skies heard my prayers and I found a clearing in the clouds - long enough to follow the moon and explore its surface. It was a crescent moon. While a full moon has its own beauty, it is the crescent moon that gives the best opportunity to see its craters.  The view through my eye piece was quite simply magnificent! I played with all the lenses available to me and finally settled on the one giving me the sharpest image. I hurriedly called my sister to take a peek. She was suitably impressed. Then, adopting a big brotherly, knowing tone, I told her to hold steady and study every crater she could feast her eyes on. "Never forget what an amazing site you are getting to see, it was that shadow on the moon that taught us that the world was round" 

The night of the Harvest Moon, I realized just how much of that passion had been eroded in the course of normal life! I had forgotten how - just a tiny glimpse of the night sky had the capacity to tell profound stories. 

A simple glimpse of the moon has the power to take us millions of years backward in time - and show us how it accumulated the craters on its face. It is also the single most practical image that can give us an appreciation of how big the earth is and it also serves to remind us that while our feet may be planted strongly on the ground - the planet on which we stand - is itself suspended in space like all other heavenly bodies we see. 

[Image used from - http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a8/NASA-Apollo8-Dec24-Earthrise.jpg]

The night sky has, for thousands of years - inspired us to dream, it has compelled us to face who we are and judge our place in the Universe. It has led our ancestors to associate stellar patterns with the events of our lives. It has guided lost travelers across vast deserts to their destinations - as surely as it has guided human destiny toward science. In a world so twisted with deliberations over GOD and marred with whose GOD is right , it is actually the closest one can get to the divine. 

It reminds us just how infinitesimal we are - and how short-lived are our lives. It reminds us to be grateful for the home we are given and implores us to own our planet.  Our little blue planet, our beloved Earth, precious and fragile, beautiful and one of a kind. A marble of dream in a rather violent sky!

- Sanket

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Rains!

I woke up and looked out the window. I looked out the window through half shut eyes and I sighed. It was going to be a difficult day. It was raining outside! As I slowly claimed my conscious, I could hear the faint rumble of clouds and a familiar drizzle outside. Ribbons of liquid stained the glass - twisting the images and distorting my reality. I woke up and stepped out to the patio and let myself be soaked - soaked with wave after wave of cold water. And against my will the water washed away my numbness bringing afresh the longing, love and lust - I had so carefully buried away. 

[Image used in accordance of copyright regulations - http://commons.wikimedia.org]

Rains have a way with me. I was born and raised in Bombay - where rains are the life of music and music is the life of our bodies. The bond between rains and our rhythms is deeper, more mysterious and more intricate than anyone can fathom. It reflects - in part India's dependence on monsoons and in part its need to create art. Art to express that which we wish but we can't. Over thousands of years of evolution the rain drops have absorbed themselves into our culture. They fuel the breaths of our soul as much as our blood fuels the beats of our heart. 

In the west as the countries industrialized and reduced their dependence on seasons so did they lose their connect with nature. In India, that connect survives as a faint but distinct hue in our identity. Hence while people in the west have lost their fascination with rains - in India - they still hold sway. 

Years ago the farmers from barren villages gathered and prayed to the skies. They begged and pleaded - they scolded and cajoled the clouds above. To this day the first rains are celebrated with the same relief and joy  as those parched voices did upon a barren soil. The rains are an innate part of our films and our songs. Even today they behold and move us - a whispered reminder of a time when masters like Tansen would sing Malhar and command the heavens to cry. 

I stand drenched and wet and cold and let myself go. The rains have a mind of their own ....

Rains, Rains - 
These rains carry with them many memories and times. 

They have  a way of entering your hearts
They thrill you and play with your thoughts

Drop per drop they symbolize and encapsulate the elixir of life.

They fall from the sky and unite on the earth.

They are precious they are dear.

They are transient they are immortal. 

Some drip as scented pearls from a girl's hair. 

Some glisten as beads of sweat in passion. 

Some trickle as salted rivulets of sorrow 

Some remain untold and veiled behind silent eyes

Some relish, as drinks of pleasure from a lover's lips 

While some are drunk as poison in anger, anguish and hurt 

Rains, Rains these rains, they have a mind of their own

I am swept clean now, I stand exhausted, spent 

The rains have brought me back to life 

They are my repent, and they have let me absolve
A part of my past ....

 - Sanket

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Don't you know!

Too long have I searched for you

And now there aren't more places to look

Yet I will hold strong, 

I remember the promise I made

The promise you took

Through the words of a poem

The colors of a canvas

Through the works of art

And the notes of music

I have sought you

It is all a charade 

The anger, the apathy

The laughter and smiles of pain

The ice cold exterior

And the nerves of steel 

Though honest I am 

I have lied to myself

'Make it through one more day'

Did I not say that yesterday ?

I have lost myself amidst friends

And worked sleepless nights in vain

I have drowned intoxicated 

And found myself alone in a crowd

All over again

I remember what I said

Do you not know I lied ?

The wait is unbearable, 

The anguish intense

I may not hold strong 

Did it never cross your mind

That I might break ?

Too long, it has been too long

I want you to come

I want you to come now 

 - Sanket

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Starlight

I was walking within my apartment complex the other day - the hour was late and most of the world around me had already retired. The designers of my residence were thoughtful enough to include a long walking trail on the perimeter of our premises. It is aesthetic and wild with many a turn - winding through gorgeous tall trees and surrounded by beautiful foliage. In the day it thrives in the balmy summer air and bird songs while during the night it cultivates a cool breeze and the gentle rustle of tree leaves. A singular section of this trail goes through an open grass land - and on this particular night the sky was so clear that the stars above took my breath away!!! It caused me to pause my walk and lie down - and to think and reflect ....

[Image used in conformation of copy rights - http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/71/M31_Lanoue.png]

I was distracted initially and I had a million things on my mind mostly revolving around my career, responsibilities and personal life - but after a while those thoughts settled and I felt anew a sense of calm - and in the silence of that moment - there was no one  and nothing between me and the stars. My breaths deepened and I felt myself intoxicated with awareness, for a brief period of time, we were breathing in complete harmony - me and the night around me. 

I have always loved stars, back in school I had managed to save up enough pocket money to buy a little telescope. This tube of lenses was my portal to the universe. Every week, I used to squeeze out some time - and away from the prying eyes of the world, I would escape to a tryst with these diamonds in the sky. 

Stars have a unique way of inspiring and humbling the human mind. They have been for centuries. Thousands of years ago, people of almost every civilization looked at the heavens above - at the same very patterns we see today - and tried to connect these revolving lights with the events of their lives. Almost anyone who has held an audience with the stars quickly comes to realize how minuscule human life really is. The sheer scale of the universe is staggering and quite beyond the realms of the most gifted of imaginations. Science itself has been trying mightily to encapsulate and explain the entire universe through one unified theory - from ether to the big bang - from string theory to the membrane, each time we thought we've found the answers - we've discovered - that we couldn't be more wrong. Even though I am a deep rooted and honest to GOD student of science - I find this human urge - 'to explain everything around them' - quite amusing, futile and of late unnecessary. 

What we do know is that a long time ago, our Sun and it surrounding planets evolved from the gasses and elements of this universe - first the star and then the planets around it ...... and eventually at one point - Life. Our comprehension and view of the universe has often times been too narrow and revolving only around the time the human species came into prominence on life upon Earth. Too often do we forget - that before us there was another species which ruled - that after us there still might be another creation to flourish and that before any of it we all really were just bubbles of elements boiling in hot lava. 

The intervention of that night's silence and its probe into my mind made me realize that often times we choose to dwell solely upon human life - and only our lives at that.  We surround ourselves with news and gossip - we argue and laugh amongst our friends - we fall in love and we fight - we hate and we fall in love all over again - we live and we die within and only within this tiny slice of time. While important, I find this view of life rather limited and sorely incomplete. 

I believe - failing to realize how minute and inconsequential our existence is - prevents us from understanding the true significance of life - and from admiring the true beauty of creation. Right before my conversation with the stars - I was stuck in a hard place in my life, one where I was perpetually worried that I might live my entire existence without making any significant contribution to the world. The dialogue helped me put all of my anxiety into perspective. 

The truth is we were all born out of this universe and when we die - we will all be part of this universe again. This concept was proven by Einstein but very few people choose to see it this way. There was a time in my life when I felt all living creatures were infinitely superior to dead things - like rocks and sand - where as the truth in fact is that the same elements that make all of our planets, make the rock and the same elements make us. We worry about causing the planet damage. Yes, its bad - and we shouldn't pollute - but its bad only for all life on earth - which - in the scheme of things is just a blip in the universe. I guess the point I am trying to drive home is that we make too much of ourselves. We have invested so much time and energy in trying to keep us alive for as long as possible - believing that a human life - rather a human's consciousness of life is the all essential thing to preserve - all the time failing to realize that it is the shortness and unpredictability of life that makes it so beautiful. 

As I lay on that cold earth - in total peace  - I felt for the first time as being one with the universe. All the problems and uncertainty of my life still remained - but I could  clearly hear what the starlight had whispered to me - That millions of years from now, when I would be no more - when Earth might be no more - we will all still, be a part of this universe - and perhaps some day a small boy on the top of a roof on some remote planet will see me as a speck of light - and be delighted once again as I was - this beautiful night. 

The only true meaning of life - I have come to believe is in enjoying our existence and feel - in each breath what our senses tell us. To find peace and happiness rooted in the certainty of our mortality and to enjoy this transient bijou we call life. We are after all - simply Starlight!!

- Sanket

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Ashes to Ashes Dust to Dust!!

As the evening grows dark I come to rest at a small pool of water... its character muddied by circumstances. I hold it in my hands, the shifting surface refusing to reflect a pale moon ... and so I seek in the darker depths ........ a glimpse ......... a hint of the moon that once shined so clear ........ a light now  missing.  I sit down and try to  wash the stains of tire the day has brought.... the stains refuse to fade away ..... and I smile at the fact that it wouldn't matter even if they did. To the water I say ... here is laughter - here is love - the flowers once so beautiful - I now offer you withered.

 

On and on I walk through the night and I reach an old abandoned fort .... I roam its insides ... now dreary quiet ... I chase those empty shadows of silence for the hint of laughter that once echoed and I ask - where did he go? the boy that once capered and galloped, and ran merry in halls of gold.

I walk and stumble till noon past morn .... now seeking again - a drink of water ... a humble drop. I  reach an endless barren ... surrounded by a scalded land ... I fall on my  knees and dig with bare hands .... in that dry parched earth - I forsake my soul -  I bury its grey fabric - a satin once white as snow.

Ashes to  ashes - Dust to dust. Behold in its quite sombre - the death of  Hope.

- Sanket

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30000 Feet above the U.S. of A!!

On a recent flight, I was pondering over a friend's question.  It led me to delve deep and discover anew and hence this article!!

I have always loved heights - and I am never happier than when I am in a plane accelerating for take off. I guess it is to do with being able to see more of the world; a bigger picture. The higher the altitude, the better the picture. It is a time to let go of petty thoughts and elevate yourself. It is a place where it's quiet, where you can seek harmony and where you can be alone. Back home in India, I had a favorite spot on the top of my building where I would retreat to, to think, to dream and to soar above reality. Often times I would get there in the evening and then lie on my back, until all sky was changed and amidst its changing colors I'd get to befriend the stars, once again.  And as the eager wind played with my hair, I would just sit back and listen to the city, the myriad of sounds and little specks of light in the distance - windows to the life beyond.

Often times tired of fighting the school, parents and everything in between, it was the one place where I was truly at peace.  In retrospect, at the time, it was only the roof top and a teacher that saved me from total ruin. As the city grew quieter in the growing night, I knew I had to go home soon and my thoughts would return to the life at hand. Almost always dejected, I would find inspiration by reminding myself of my mentor's words - "Go to America - Don't stay here. You are meant to go abroad!!" And like the sugar sleep of a cold morning, the rooftop would make me stay five more minutes and beckon me to imagine of possibilities yet to come.

Prophetically enough, it was in the zeniths above North America that I found the azure of my life. What began as a fascination for the west, swelled to a powerful ambition and saw me fly out of my nest, over vast seas and onto foreign shores.  Over the years, the U.S. guarded my individuality and revitalized every creative instinct I carried. What began as a temporary abode for my graduate studies grew to be a new home for me.

Deriding my promiscuity and labeling me as a 'Non Returning Indian', an old friend asked me 'What is it about America that anyone going there  does not wish to return?' It was a banal question, one that is asked many times,  but coming from a close friend, it made me think ... "How could I best explain my affection for America?" And I realized, that often times the true reason why U.S. is so loved is rarely within guess of outsiders.

[ Image used under public license - www.wikipedia.org ]

The appeal of America does not lie in any one aspect of its nature, it is the whole experience and what it implies that makes the U.S. hard to leave. It isn't about it's copious wealth, or the carefree attitude towards sex. Neither is it about convenient infrastructure nor about the standard of living it offers. What people truly treasure about America is different for every person and is hardly ever encapsulated in one characteristic.

As for me, The United States has come to represent the only place on earth where you can be genuinely free and accomplish anything you want solely upon your merit. It has come to represent what a fully vibrant democracy looks like. The true allure of America lies in its core ideas. The belief that every citizen is equal and that every person has a birth right to pursue his/her happiness. It is freedom in the real sense of the term. Freedom to choose ones profession, to choose ones religion, freedom to wear what you want, to speak what you want, to love whom you want and to be yourself in every breath of your life. It lies in the honesty and fairness innate to almost every American. The real allure lies in the desire to be good, to be virtuous and to be rewarded for it. It lies in the certainty that your individual freedom is guarded at all costs and in the relish that your life is preciously valued.

It is a great country, it is a beautiful country. Even from a height of 30000 feet, it betrays a linearity of thought that is hard to miss.  It is blessed with a remarkable landscape. Sweeping fields of green and gold that caress the sunshine touching them. Breathtaking mountains and dazzling valleys revealing chaotic fractals of nature's geometry. Vast cities neatly laid out and complex man-made structures complimenting the landscape. Awe-inspiring networks of highways like ever flowing streams of human traffic evincing the nation's foresight. It is a land tended to with love and diligently nursed by its people, people who know they will be loved back. It is a house made into a home.

Day in and day out, it is this endearing warmth that thaws even the most frigid cynicism and makes you hope.  Its immigrant origins make it welcome and embrace you. Its patchwork culture gives it a unique sense of humor and makes you smile. Its belief in itself gives you confidence and becomes your strength. And  sure enough, like a flawed human being, it can sometimes be imperfect, but its heart is in the right place. It is people as people should be, mankind the way it ought to be. It is the one place its founders sought, the one place aspirations still seek. It makes you shun the unneeded and choose only the best to keep. It is an idea. It is a dream.

You can not understand why people love the U.S. if you are blinded by prejudice. Its an answer not to be sought on the floor with your nose to the ground, its an answer to be found in the transcending heights above.  

It is what I'd tell my friend, what I would tell my teacher, if only!!

- Sanket

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