First Love!

It is said that Man was able to recognize music long before he started to recognize words. Strangely though, even today, modern language lacks an adequate definition for the word 'Music'.

I am not going to prevail on the definition of music, the interested audience should read Steven Mithen's - 'The Singing Neanderthals' - which contains beautifully lucid explanations of the importance of music in human intellectual development.

No - this blog is dedicated to my first Guitar. I have always wanted to learn to play Guitar - but conditions back in Bombay for a Science student were - to put it mildly - not conducive to art and music. It is a heart wrenching tragedy of modern day India - that in order for people to get jobs and have a secure future, music or art is not an option. Being from an academic town, my parents strongly opposed me learning anything, that could possibly distract me from my studies. Nothing, I say nothing affects the sanctity of the holy mantra of the Indian education system - "By heart and vomit!" Duh!

It is true that India has produced world class musicians and each year Bombay itself produces more movies than any other similar industry in the world. But for some reason, music still remains to be looked upon more as a hobby than a career.

Seven years and as many time zones later, I got my chance to learn what I want - when I want - the way I want. No supervision - no constraints. And so it happened that in the summer of '07 - I decided that the time had finally come for me to learn Guitar!

I went with my instructor to a local music shop to buy me an instrument. I was relieved, for in all honesty, I could not tell a good guitar from a bad one. We were interested in 3 fender guitars that the shop was offering on sale. My instructor said - they were awesome for the price and great learning instruments. I played all of them and then asked my instructor to judge them. He said - "They are all good. But go for the one that feels best for you." No help - absolutely - I looked in desperation at the choice I was facing - not sure which one to choose. There was a cut-away model which sounded very sweet - and a black beauty - which was more mellow - but a beauty none the less. In desperation I looked around - and asked the waiting store guy - if there was some other instrument in the same price range that I could look at.

He recommended his favorite beginner guitar - they are made by 'Art & Lutheire' - a small company based in Canada. Even from a distance I could tell - this was a very pretty instrument. But the moment I touched it - I fell in love. A&L Guitars are finished with lacquer - which gives them a completely natural feel when you hold them. I was expecting the sound to be as warm as the close grained brown color of the top - I was not disappointed.......

I played it for a while and then gave it to my instructor - wildly hoping and threatening him - that he better not say anything against this beauty - for my heart was set on the piece. To my relief my instructor's judgment conformed with mine and we had an agreement.

The model I bought is an A&L CEDAR - six string acoustic. The guitar cost me 200USD, which I think was real steal. Ever since then, I find myself spending every moment of my free time practicing on this marvel. I found a wealth of information when I researched online. It turns out the close grained CEDAR top is an ideal modern choice for Guitar tops since the grain pattern allows flexibility across the grain - resulting in a fuller sound and puts firm resistance in the direction of the grain - thus easily sustaining string pressure.CEDAR wood also has the virtue of maturing with age - meaning - the sound of the Guitar improves over time. Unlike SPRUCE, CEDAR gives a more mellow, warm and richer tone.

Playing the instrument is a most sensual experience. When my instructor asked me - How do you feel, I replied, "I feel like I'm holding a woman!" The store manager burst out laughing, his head shaking..... he must be thinking - Now thats a lover!

But no jokes, lift this delicate piece and hold it on your lap - the curve fits in perfectly - much like a womans waist - as if it always belonged there. You press it against your body with the plucking hand and run the left down its smooth neck. You caress the strings and let go...... Playing it is like making love....... Its divine.

Not unlike love making, music has the power to heal. In fact, my real motivation to learn Guitar was to harness a more subtle way of expression than writing or poetry. Musician or not I implore you to listen to the open strings of a well tuned Guitar in quick succession - theres no way the sound won't influence you. It feels almost as if the strings don't just resonate in the sound box - but also in your heart.

Learn a Music instrument - it changes your LIFE!

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Satyameva Jayate!

Satyameva Jayate! is the national moto of India. Something that I have been taught since the very beginning of my education. Something that I have believed with all my heart. Simply put - it means 'Truth alone triumphs'.

It brings into light the tragic shortcomings of the Indian education system - a system thats been in place since forever and refuses to adapt to modern changes and realistic idealism. For all that is worth, Truth, is the rarest commodity in India. Given a chance, I would teach the national motto to kids with a caveat - 'Truth alone triumphs ............ in the end.'

So heres me posing a basic conundrum to the 0.1% of readers who would understand this blog. Given that Truth triumphs in the end, we have a choice; to lead a life of principles or to take the shorter conscious free road. A few years ago - I would have said - the shorter route isn't really an option at all. In a way - it isn't - if you truly are a man of principles, then breaking them is never an option.

But it leads me to wonder..... wonder and look at people and friends - who have no such restrictions, people who lie when convenient and live their life until death claims them. Is it really as bad as I would think???

I don't know, on the one hand, you have an entire life of struggle and suffering with glory at the end...... on the other hand, you have a conscious free rich life and earthly pleasures - until one final day - you die.

Principles or not - courage or not - I believe, in the end what matters is - "Of the days you were alive. how many did you spend - happy and content?' ......... and if a consciousfree guy gets to spend his life in a majorly happy state, then I would wish him to remain the same... as opossed to a stupid person - who just blindly believes in Truth - not knowing that the happiness he seeks for in such a way - might take the rest of limited life and make it a living hell.

Any ideas as to which should a person prefer??

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Kaccha Nimbu

[Image Credit: http://www.canet.be/galerie10.htm]

'Kaccha Nimbu' is a concept. To those who are not familiar with it - heres a brief description; 'Kaccha Nimbu' literally means unripe lime - its a term used to refer a kid who either because of age or because of physical injury can not play a sport with other kids on equal terms. Say for example, you got a sprained ankle, but you still want to play dodge ball with your friends, so you take part in the game as a 'Kaccha Nimbu', or theres a kid who is too small to play, small in age, small in his body frame - but the kid still wants to play - and everyone else is big, then you let the kid play as a 'Kaccha Nimbu'.

Being a 'Kaccha Nimbu' offers delightful privileges; if you are playing cricket and you get 'Out' you can still bat one more time, if you are playing carom, you can place your striker any where on the board and hit anything you want, you can even drag the queen piece into your favorite pocket and no one will say anything - "He's kaccha nimbu re!"

As you grow adult, slowly the 'kaccha nimbu' opportunities die away. Till a time comes when you can no longer play as a 'kaccha nimbu'. I just finished my third semester as an international graduate student - having to deal with tedious projects and endless submissions - I was really really wishing some one in my graduate school would let me play 'kaccha nimbu' for the last week of the semester.

There is an archetypal cliche; "No one is perfect" - yet I do not accept this as an excuse for not trying, neither do I tolerate flaws in character under the disguise of so called 'imperfection'. But often times in dealing with an imperfect world, I have been bogged down and frustrated to infinity by the burden of my self imposed rules. And in those times, I wish I can play a 'kaccha nimbu' with my rules. But thou hath not this chance - for thou hath grown up now. And since when were principles negotiable any ways ??

May be it is a force of nature or the imperativeness of age - that lately I have had an insatiable desire to find a partner. At least companionship to start with. Some one who will come to you and say - take a break, some one who will let me be a 'kaccha-nimbu' with her. Some one who would tolerate albeit for a short time. Some one who can understand that subtle and unsaid desire that each person has of being a 'Kaccha-Nimbu' .....

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S P A Z O

The sound is unmistakable .... but it doesn't do justice to what happened ..... a blade is thrust in ... sharp .... very sharp .... body doesn't know what happened ..... until the eye sends an alert on seeing blood .... the horror comes first ..... the pain follows later..... the blade has gone deep .... pulling it out would be more painful than letting it stay in ..... yet some things must be done .... so the blade is pulled ... each microsecond unbearable .... amidst screams ... the body begs to be unconscious ..... as if that wasn't enough ... the blade was poisoned .... ensuring that the wound does not heal ... the skin never grows .... and blood clots only reluctantly ...... yet the body must function .... it does .... but life seems paler than any fathomed death ..... Yet a time comes ... when the same enemy has to be faced again .... all senses beg to run away ... but you hold the legs ... the body struggles against the mind .... the mind forces a submission .... but the energy lost in the struggle tires even before the swords are drawn ..... but you hold the ground ... for retreat is cowardice .... wishing a win ... or at least a dignified end ... but the enemy has neither in mind .... the only target is your un-healed wound ... old - and dark .... the pain potent and alive as if eternal .... and the blade plunges down a familiar path .... the fragile blood clot cannot hold it back .... the body staggers back .... there is no strength to draw the blade out .... so the enemy comes to a sinister aid .... pulling the blade back slowly .... its only then on top of pain ... you recognize that this time the blade isn't poisoned but delivered red hot .... the enemy eases it back through an old wound .... and you see your own blood drying in the red heat .... Will thy end me ? ...... you ask ..... 'Nay!' .... comes back with a laugh .... the eyes close ... in ancient greek ..... SPAZO.

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The Art of TP.

As any educated civilized person would understand, TP - is true positive. This blog is about the other connotation of TP - Time Pass... No - it doesn't sound virtuous at all. So heres my attempt at proving the virtue and importance of Time Pass.

The only time when I have truly engaged in TP and when it was most beneficial, was - in the monsoon of '98. I was in KJ Somaiya College. Junior College. High School by American standards....


Photograph: http://jambino.blogspot.com/


Let me introduce the characters first ... people as they were more than nine years ago...

There was Rahul, the definition of cheerful. There was Aashish, friendly but queer. There was Chinmay, simple and with a great sense of humour. There was Deepti, spectacled and beautifully uncomplicated and there was Mithila: frank and an unquestionable Babe! And of course me! Each of us brought a new color to the concept of friendship like suspended drops of water forging new colors from youth's sun light.

Everything we did was cool! Our day began at a leisurely hour and we would immediately get in touch with each other on the phone - to co-ordinate our train timings. Fun started from the train journey itself - each person boarding the same compartment one by one as stations progressed. We would all get down at Vidyavihar and walk to campus. I can still remember the dizziness of joy that filled me whenever I entered that campus!

Beyond two large 'iron-grill' gates lay the sprawling Somaiya campus - at the time - it was the largest thing I had seen. The Somaiya campus opens up from the main entrance as two parallel roads leading straight on through to the end with college buildings coming up one by one on the right side. The divider between the roads was lined with mid-sized palm trees. After a recent rain - their hanging leaves would still be dripping - showering the students with fresh monsson water as they entered the campus. Immediately to the left was the "Suruchi" Canteen - on really lazy days - we would directly go in here - to satiate our ever hungry appetites. The 'Suruchi' canteen was cheap and versatile in its menu - more than enough for our junior college needs. Usually we would walk straight ahead. The first right turn ahead - lead us to our classrooms - after the first month of college - I don't recollect taking this turn again. So walk we would .. to the far end of the campus, past the sports grounds on our right till we reached the engineering cafeteria. There was a spot on the left sidewalk just right enough for six people ; this would be our TP base. Once stationed at the base at around 11am, we would dutifully 'time-pass' till it was 6.

On some days, the sidewalk would be wet - and we would tear off pages from our unwritten notebooks and sit on them instead. Our discussions of trivia used to be conducted with utmost honesty and unimaginable humor. Punctuating these discussions regularly were the local coffee(2Rs) and hot Maggie noodles (5Rs).

I still remember Deepti who had a tendency to crawl from one person to another to taste different stuff, tearing her jeans at the knees in the process and causing her parents considerable distress...I remember the innocent satisfaction - I would derive from picking a harmless monsoon earthworm from the damp soil and causing the girls loads of trouble by bringing it in their vicinity. It was the first time we were friends with girls - so often times our discussions would be throughly enlightening. Later in life I have faced a lot of problems because of the early misconception that Somaiya put in our brains - "Girls are usually frank and don't mind open thoughts on all topics" - as it turned out the girls we were with were quite the exception and not at all the rule.

The base was at a fairly low level - grazing the road - so that when people used to pass by - we would have to look up to see who it was. Somewhere around 5pm, the girls from Fashion and MBA used to disperse - and we would (including the 2 girls) - to put it kindly - check them out! Passing lewd comments was OK ... staring open mouthed was OK .... we were kids - in the first year of college .... we were OKed to do these things.

On some days - the idle wind would carry with it strange romours .... "Damodar is on the loose!! Watch out!" ..... Damodar - was the supervising prof - guy who used to ensure - students were in-class and not out! And we would all hide out. On some days we were caught - these were especially funny times - some of us would feign sudden illness - others like me or Rahul would have no respite and Damodar would demand our college id cards. "They are already with you Sir! " we would reply impishly.

Towards the end of the day as our class mates sprang out .. we would casually ask them - as one would ask an old acquaintance - "So! Aaaj kya hua?" (what was covered in class today?) Months would easily slip by ... .. amongst movies and outside food and masti and endless talking and pool tables we would never allocate time to trivial things like studies. UNTIL ..... when the exams came by, and we would scramble to get ourselves in order. Luckily course work was light and I don't remember ever requiring more than a days preparation to get by in the exams. Of course parents would wonder - what was happening to our shining grades from last year..... but thats a whole different can of beans.

Career ..... coming to America! such things weren't in our wildest dreams. We knew serious times lay ahead ... but at the moment we were just content in knowing each others little worlds as throughly as possible. The friendships that were forged by the lasting laughter of that TP, by the moist scent of Mumbai - are by far the most lasting connections I have ever had..... unstained by the passing of time.

Later on in Engineering and now in Masters, I have been fortunate enough to have good friends, but the friendships that endure most were those formed almost a decade ago. I was too innocent to recognize that friendships are also some times formed out of need. We changed as people, we went different ways and pursued different careers ....... but to this day when we meet, we are the same people when we are together.

Duh! Central point of all my blabbering being ..... that there is a time and place in each persons life when TP plays the most important role ...... when TP isnt TP at all. That TP reinforces good health. That TP can some times be the most lasting memory a person would ever have!

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