Jesus in Dubai

This is how I saw Jesus in Dubai.

Rajni as the Economist

He knows economics and culture better than anybody else in the world.

He makes millions out of it every year.

I caught him sitting at a bookstore in Chennai airport.

The warning about cellphone goes well under Rajni's image. Imagine him saying it in his own inimitable way!!!

Roadside Models!

I saw them on Linking Road, Bandra. I went to click their pics.

The boy tells me, "Foto lena hai to paisa dena padega" (If you want to click my pic, you need to pay me)

I agree.

He poses.

I pay him Rs.10.

He says its too less!!!

He follows me till my car...then says a bye to me and proceeds to beg again.

He was selling chocolates which he has never tasted!!

I met him on my way home from a wedding reception at Worli Seaface.

It was 1.30 am. I was 4 wine glasses down.

He came near my car door and pleaded me to buy Cadbury chocolate bars. There were 2 bars and he wanted me to buy both so that he could go home and sleep.

I bought them.

My friend said this was a trick to loot unsuspecting people like me.

I asked him if he had tasted the chocolates. He said no. I offered one bar to him. He refused to take it.

I smiled at my friend and we drove away.

My New Leica C-Lux2

I was in Dubai for work last weekend.

Bought a Leica C-Lux 2 at half the price it is available in India.

It was my long cherished dream to own a Leica!

Will update with better pics (and stories) in days to come...

Nouns and Verbs

"Whenever you are in love with flowing things, moving things, you have a different vision of life. Modern man lives with asphalt roads, cement and concrete buildings. These are nouns, remember, these are not verbs. The skyscrapers don't go on growing; the road remains the same whether it is night or day, whether it is a full-moon night or a night absolutely dark. It doesn't manner to the asphalt road, it does not matter to the cement and concrete buildings.

Man has created a world of nouns and he has become encaged in his own world. He has forgotten the world of the trees, the world of the rivers, the world of the mountains and the stars. There they don't know of any nouns, they have not heard about nouns, they know only verbs." - OSHO

Osho

I never tried to encounter his philosophy. To me, he was the one who took Vinod Khanna away from Bollywood - at a time when I used to like watching him paired with Bachchan. Nothing more than that.

A few of my friends had read about him and used to tell me that his philosophy was about overdoing ones desires and make them stale. As you keep doing this with each one of your desires, one day you would achieve tranquility.

The other day, I casually picked up his autobiography at Danai's titled - Autobiography of a Spiritually Incorrect Mystic.

The book is unputdownable. A must read. No pretense of being a spiritual master's autobiography. I have read about 81 pages of the 300 page book. I realize that Osho is much more than what my friends told me about.

Osho was a destiny's child. Hence he could do what he did with so much of nonchalance and confidence and fearlessness.

His fearlessness is infectious, amusing, unbelievable, and somewhat scary to emulate. His childhood memoirs are humorous, his ability to question everything from religion, god, rituals, gurus, etc. are a pure joy to read. Though controversial, they are nonetheless extremely incisive and makes you think in a completely unexplored dimension of religion and spirituality.

Here's one that I liked:

"Religion needs a religious quality. A few qualities are missing. One of the most important is a sense of humor"

The book is all about such irreverence and more...

My Marriage Anniversary

My wife, Maya. She has been a friend for 19 years, out of which 12 years as a wife.

From the Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupery -

So the little prince tamed the fox.

And when the hour of his departure drew near---

"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."

"It is your own fault," said the little prince.
"I never wished you any sort of harm;
but you wanted me to tame you. . ."

"Yes that is so", said the fox.

"But now you are going to cry!"
said the little prince.

"Yes that is so" said the fox.

"Then it has done you no good at all!"

"It has done me good," said the fox,
"because of the color of the wheat fields."
And then he added:
"go and look again at the roses.
You will understand now
that yours is unique in all the world.
Then come back to say goodbye to me,
and I will make you a present of a secret."

The little prince went away,
to look again at the roses.
"You are not at all like my rose," he said.
"As yet you are nothing.
No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one.
You are like my fox when I first knew him.
He was only a fox
like a hundred thousand other foxes.
But I have made a friend,
and now he is unique in all the world."
And the roses were very much embarrassed.

"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on.
"One could not die for you.
To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think
that my rose looked just like you
--the rose that belongs to me.
But in herself alone she is more important
than all the hundreds of you
other roses: because it is she that I have watered;
because it is she
that I have put under the glass globe;
because it is for her
that I have killed the caterpillars
(except the two or three we saved
to become butterflies);
because it is she that I have listened to,
when she grumbled,
or boasted,
or even sometimes when she said nothing.

Because she is MY rose."

And he went back to meet the fox.
"Goodbye" he said.

"Goodbye," said the fox.
"And now here is my secret, a very simple secret:
It is only with the heart that one can see rightly;
what is essential is invisible to the eye."

"What is essential is invisible to the eye,"
the little prince repeated,
so that he would be sure to remember.

"It is the time you have wasted for your rose
that makes your rose so important.

"It is the time I have wasted for my rose--
"said the little prince
so he would be sure to remember.

"Men have forgotten this truth," said the fox.
"But you must not forget it.
You become responsible, forever,
for what you have tamed.
You are responsible for your rose. . ."

"I am responsible for my rose,"
the little prince repeated,
so that he would be sure to remember.

Some more Calligraphy work

Ira's Birthday

Ira turned eight on December 2.

I can't imagine this kid was born to me.

At 37, I still feel that I am a 22 year old!!

Its strange how your mind refuses to grow up.

Return to India: One Family's Journey to America and Back!!

Shobha Narayan, a well known columnist with international magazines, has written an honest account of her return to India after 20 odd years in the US.

http://knowledge.wharton.upenn.edu/india/article.cfm?articleid=4236

This is what I wrote to her:

Shobha,

I just finished reading your long article in Knowledge@Wharton's November 2007 issue.

I congratulate you for writing an honest account rather that trying to defend your decision to return back.

I am writing this based on my own experiences in the US. I spent a year at Harvard and lived near Cambridge with my cousin.

As you have described, your decision to come back to India was greatly influenced by the 'insurance' provided by US citizenship coupled by the economic boom in India - 2 key reasons for a majority of reverse brain drain happening in India. (I too have quite a few friends who would like to return back. Some are even trying for their second babies in a hurry to ensure the default citizenship status for their kids!!)

Of all the Indians I met in the US, I found them to be so naive and hollow about their perspectives on life in the US, that it was impossible to strike a decent conversation about India. Your list of pros and cons exactly matches with the list that they used to put forward to me during my various debates and arguments about their return. However, I told them that coming back to India cannot be a decision about 'lifestyle changes', 'medical emergencies', 'pollution', 'corruption', and definitely not about insurance provided by 'citizenship'. How can coming back to your own country be a logical choice?

It would like to use the definition of Free Software to explain my point: Free software is a matter of liberty, not price. To understand the concept, you should think of free as in free speech, not as in free beer.

I think ones decision to return has more to do with urge, rather than logic. It probably needs a great leap of faith.

I feel that if parameters, as described in your article, are used to make a decision to return to your own country, one could end up becoming an economic immigrant in India too.

This is what she wrote back:

Ninad:

Thank you for your nuanced email (correct English?) which critiqued my piece without being critical.

I totally agree with the last paragraph of your letter.

Best wishes

Shoba

Kabir Again!!

I was waiting for the second set of Kabir's pics to see how he has changed in the last one month.

Its amazing, how much he resembles Mani.

Unbelievable!!!

Kabir Mishra is born!

To my nephew Kabir, born on October 9, 2007:

Between the conscious and the unconscious, the mind has put up a swing:
all earth creatures, even the supernovas, sway between these two trees, and it never winds down.

Angels, animals, humans, insects by the million, also the wheeling sun and moon;
ages go by, and it goes on.

Everything is swinging: heaven, earth, water, fire, and the secret one slowly growing a body.
Kabir saw that for fifteen seconds, and it made him a servant for life.

Long Live Kabir!!!

Words, words and more words...

Imagine for a moment that the first half of this column is empty. Imagine that the tape you are listening to is silent and has no content for just two minutes. What happens? Your mind races. Thoughts flood you. What has happened, you wonder, what has gone wrong? Why are there no words?

Nothing has gone wrong, nothing at all. Your mind cannot tolerate silence; that is all. Thoughts and words are a call of your consciousness telling you that your centre is unfilled.

There are two kinds of people. One kind is the people who follow words and seek meaning behind the words. Another kind is those people who ignore the meaning and seek the source of thoughts. The first kind is the Commissar and the second kind is the Yogi.

Seeking words and thoughts cannot fulfil you. When you seek words you move into the outer world. You move into the space of sense objects, which results in pain or pleasure. However, many times you may experience the physical or sensual pleasure led by your thoughts, you still keep seeking the same pleasure. What one calls karma, is really the effect of these unfulfilled desires.

The meaning of thoughts and words is not to provoke movement towards these external experiences that can never be fulfilled but to move towards the centre, the core of your being. Only there will you find the comfort in silence.

Words soothe your superficial mind the same way as scratching an itch seems to provide some comfort.

In actual fact it makes the problem worse. It is the same with words. The more words you use the more confused you are. Be careful of all those scholars and philosophers who use highly complex language and words to propound their theories. They themselves do not understand what they are saying, so they are forced to confuse others by using complexity as a tool.

Whenever you ask questions, more questions arise. This is seen as the measure of intelligence in our system of education. When one really understands, one realises two things. Firstly, one realises that questions and answers do not lead to any understanding at all. Secondly, one realises that understanding happens when thoughts cease.

Truth resides in silence. Truth resides in contemplation. As you move inwards towards the source of words and thoughts, mind becomes still in simplicity. This stillness, this silence leads to fulfillment.

- Paramahamsa Sri Nithyananda
http://www.youtube.com/lifeblissfoundation

October 2, 2007

Saw a newspaper ad by Union Bank of India on the occasion of Gandhi Jayanti. It read:

"Thousands of roads may be named after him. But how many walk the path?"

An interesting sight

A dog waiting for his turn to cross the road at the sion hospital signal.

Have you ever seen a milkman sleeping?

I saw him.

Mere zindagi ki ek purani hasrat aaj puri ho gayi!

Scenes at a Sale

Two Schools and a Market Opportunity

I have enclosed images of 2 schools in a village called Chikan, in Pijore - Haryana.

One is a secondary school, while the other is a kindergarten school.

One lacked basic infrastructure while the other had limited infrastructure.

I spoke to a few parents and students in the vicinity and nobody really cared about the inadequate infrastructure. They said they were there because of
1. Their lack of choice
2. Availability of teachers!!!

I always have heated arguments with my friends about giving precedence to the quality of infrastructure as much as quality of teaching. I do sincerely feel that good infrastructure can act as a strong motivator to increase student intake and decrease drop out rates.

Looking at these two schools, with happy students and parents, despite of inadequate infrastructure and average quality of teachers, I realize that the problem is more complex than as envisaged by me or my friends.

There needs to be a model that can work, since the demand is so high and consumer expectations are so low. An ideal scenario for any corporate to get excited.

Wonder what would make the Government excited? Can they create an ONGC, Indian Oil, Hindustan Petroleum, State Bank of India, BSNL, in the education sector?

There is one Verghese Kurien waiting to happen in education.

Hope he arrives sooner than later.

Why do I write?

Orhan Pamuk's Nobel acceptance speech:

"For me, to be a writer is to acknowledge the secret wounds that we carry inside us, the wounds so secret that we ourselves are barely aware of them, and to patiently explore them, know them, illuminate them, to own these pains and wounds, and to make them a conscious part of our spirits and our writing.

I am asked- why do you write? I write because I have an innate need to write! I write because I can't do normal work like other people. I write because I want to read books like the ones I write. I write because I am angry at all of you, angry at everyone. I write because I love sitting in a room all day writing. I write because I can only partake in real life by changing it. I write because I want others, all of us, the whole world, to know what sort of life we lived, and continue to live, in Istanbul, in Turkey. I write because I love the smell of paper, pen, and ink. I write because I believe in literature, in the art of the novel, more than I believe in anything else. I write because it is a habit, a passion. I write because I am afraid of being forgotten. I write because I like the glory and interest that writing brings. I write to be alone. Perhaps I write because I hope to understand why I am so very, very angry at all of you, so very, very angry at everyone. I write because I like to be read. I write because once I have begun a novel, an essay, a page, I want to finish it. I write because everyone expects me to write. I write because I have a childish belief in the immortality of libraries, and in the way my books sit on the shelf. I write because it is exciting to turn all of life's beauties and riches into words. I write not to tell a story, but to compose a story. I write because I wish to escape from the foreboding that there is a place I must go but – just as in a dream – I can't quite get there. I write because I have never managed to be happy. I write to be happy.