Okay, dear readers. I think I have stayed away far too long. It's been a very very busy 2.5 months in China but also quite interesting and loads of fun. I suppose the irony is when I am 'living life' more, I am saying less about it. Hehe... isn't that funny? But not really I think. Reflections happen in solitude when you are not doing life. I did have my solitude - couldn't do without it - but not the luxury for non-goal-oriented contemplation. I will be picking up the threads when I am back to the UK I hope. There are certainly a ton of threads I am looking forward to chew on. But before that... it's time for Christmas and family and New Year's and good solid Indian food... I can't wait. I should be in Dubai on Monday :)

I have a tendency to say, ‘Why is this happening to me?’ even when something bad happens to someone who is close to me, and who is clearly directly suffering from whatever it is. It has made me wonder if I am selfish. I don't want to suffer and anything that causes me to suffer even in a second-hand way seems like a direct attack on 'me'. It has made me wonder, if instead of being concerned about the one who is genuinely suffering, I am concerned about myself and about my own suffering that comes from seeing them suffer, if you know what I mean. I can't bear to see them suffer so what I am really bothered about is my own pain? 

But, when I think about this a bit more philosophically...hear me out, I am moving into abstract territory:  No one else and nothing else feels as real to oneself as oneself, wouldn't you agree? It could almost be as if the whole world is a simulation, everyone I see and hear around me is a mirage, the only thing I can absolutely be sure of is this voice in my head, my own consciousness, and the travails of my body, because I simply cannot tune them out. My mind and my body are the only things I cannot pretend to not exist because I experience their presence every waking and even sleeping moment. To experience itself means to sense them? I cannot rise above or below them. Other people or other things, they might as well exist or not—but they do exist through my mind/body or perception through these in a way. Everything that happens affects me only through my own reference point in a way—my mind/body is the conduit. If I/these did not exist, nothing else would really. 

Coming back to my original musing, I suppose what I am trying to say but not capturing it in the best way is, others' suffering becomes real to me because it is channelled into my mind/body. And when I ask God why this is happening to me, it is not really an empty or a selfish claim in that sense… it is directed at me as the thing that’s most real to me. Or maybe I am just selfish and philosophizing it away? ;)

I have been thinking about how much our lives revolve around consumption. Not just consuming things, but also stuff like content. And probably production—because someone has to produce for someone to consume? Take out consumption and activities related to that, and what remains? Probably it's a matter of nuance. Reading a book is also consuming content in a way but it's not the same as consuming say Instagram? Writing is production but it's not the same as producing a tiny part of a car? And then one might ask, what is wrong with consumption and production?

I started thinking along these lines because my life currently is less consumption oriented, particularly stuff like clothes, accessories etc., that I tended to consume for the sake of consuming than because I needed these things for a specific purpose. It makes me think about why we consume these days and what we did in earlier times when we did not consume as much? Was life more fulfilling then and what did we do to make it more fulfilling? Makes me wonder if consumption activities have replaced community oriented activities? For instance, going to church. Instead, people go to malls. But nowadays even malls have been replaced by online shopping. You get all your consumption needs served without even leaving the house. Can consumption-on-demand ever lead to satisfaction? And where is all this headed? Maybe finding the things that satisfy us intrinsically is key... even though it's hard when you live in an all-consuming world and your life is built around its principles I suppose.

All's well! I should have got down to writing earlier but my usual excuse, 'one thing and another' :)

It's not that I haven't written anything at all but it felt like I should be writing something very specific about my new set of temporary circumstances on this blog and whenever there is some specific expectation to do something, it feels like a chore. Not that there is any reason to conform... probably it will come when the mood strikes me - or not. Why do something out of boredom or obligation or conformity or whatever? If only I were a person who just did things very randomly, slave to nothing but my moods, hehe... that's not me but at least once in a while there's no harm letting go of structures and disciplined modes of thinking...

The change from the UK to over here isn't that big a change in the fundamental sense that my routines are fairly constant. I suppose knowing it's a matter of weeks makes a difference too because the routines that are a bit more difficult to adapt to, only need to be adapted to for a little while. I am also fairly busy so rolling from one week to the next without having a lot of time to think about it. And last but not the least, people have made me feel very much at home here. It's always people that make a difference to place I guess, and in that respect, I always realise how lucky I have been only after the fact. In this case, I am trying to be more conscious of it in the moment.

If someone had told me 7-8 years ago that I'd be representing a UK university in China, teaching university students, I would have gawked at them. None of those words, university, teaching, UK, China would have made sense to me together or even separately. As someone said, day by day nothing seems to change, but when you look back everything's different. Just makes me wonder at how far I have come!

"In the midst of winter, I found there was, within me, an invincible summer. And that makes me happy. For it says that no matter how hard the world pushes against me, within me, there’s something stronger – something better, pushing right back." ~ Albert Camus 

These last few days a theme or rather an insight has struck me. It is that in the past one or two years every time something has happened, I have asked God why this lemon—why a lemon when I was asking for grapes? And as I look back it dawns on me that actually if my mind hadn't been so set on grapes and on the disappointment of not getting what I wanted, I would have actually realised that I had got something way better. Something that was so custom-designed for me that I questioned if it was good enough... but the more I stopped focusing on my disappointment and started looking at what I had got for what it was, I couldn't believe I had been so blind. I couldn't have planned for this because it was so out of the ordinary but we are so used to the ordinary, so used to fitting into well-laid out structures, so trained to want what we want... that we never dare to want something or appreciate something different. When it comes to us, we want to trade it for the ordinary. How dumb of us, isn't it? And people around you, mind you, will make you want to do the trade-off. They will make you want to believe that until you buy into the standard or ordinary, you don't have it good. It takes considerable reflection and examination to stand your ground. To evaluate lemons and grapes on their own terms and in terms of what fulfils you rather than the value placed on them by the world. And by mediocre folks who probably cannot rise above the ordinary anyway. 

I am leaving for China in day or so. It's likely I won't be able to post blogs while I am there... If I can, I should have exciting stuff to talk about... hehe... China has always been at the top of the list of countries I find intriguing and exciting and my two visits there aeons ago did not disappoint... If I can't, you have something to look forward to ;)

Somebody's said it succinctly: You can fool all the people some of the time, some of the people all the time, but not all the people all of the time. There is an individual who keeps trying to play me and a whole many others for a fool, while pretending to be an innocent victim of circumstances. In their head they probably think they are successful in their gimmicks. And they probably are with many gullibles. I watch with amusement as I see them try their tricks and gymnastics, now buttering A, now polishing B, now dancing with C, now trying to cover up their manipulative games with me.

If there is one thing that disgusts me more than anything else, that is ass kissing. I can spot the BS from a mile away before it has started to stink. What I don't really get is whether people don't spot it or they don't mind it or they use it to further their own game or... something else? I personally can't stomach it. Just watching makes me gag. Another option is people see through it but they have developed the ability to ignore it and get on with their own life. I am trying to develop that ability. Problem is, I can't tolerate deceit and ignoring something just because it won't affect me personally is hard to do. I trust that these kinds of characters will fall into the pits of their own making eventually. They wouldn't rely on these tactics if they had substance of their own... it's a question of how long till everyone notices it’s all empty within.

For some unfathomable reason, my subconscious threw up this Urdu sher (poem) today. I must have heard it umpteen number of times as a kid; it used to feature at the start of old Hindi movies. Today I have been thinking about what it means.

“Khudi ko kar buland itna ke har taqdeer se pehle

Khuda bande se khud pooche bata teri raza kya hai.”

~ Allama Iqbal

Rough translation:

Raise thyself to such heights that before writing your fate,

God Himself may ask, What is it that you wish for?

That's what I thought

But I don't know anymore

I keep repeating

These words

In my head

I thought I could

Predict your mind

Bank on you

I thought I knew

What you'd say

Or what you'd do

If with my

Blatant, blunt

Tongue

I said a thing

Or two

But that's what I thought

I don't know anymore

If you'd really

Be able to see

Where I come from

Where the sharpness

Of my words

Get their sting from

I thought you would

Indeed

That's what I thought

But what do I know anymore...

~Me

I watched a Tamil movie Super Deluxe on Netflix. It was like entering into a fantasy arthouse world, not sure how else to describe it. Magic realism meets music in motion. A world which imitates life but is not really anything like real life. Where things are predictable but at crucial moments completely out of joint with prediction. It was mind bendy in that sense but not in the science fiction sense—which feels clinical to me and not a genre I am keen on—but a life-art sense where you are immersed in the artist's unique imagination and rich aesthetic sensibilities but possibilities are not completely disconnected from some notion of the real...

I was interested to understand where the director was coming from or what they were like. I always have a curiosity to know the creator's mind or life better when I engage with any kind of interesting artistic product, generally literature. This interview with Thiagarajan Kumararaja didn't disappoint. There are many gems in there like when he talks about his early reflections on why certain greats like Picasso sold for millions while no one appreciated the art painted outside the local fruit shop for instance. He also gives an interesting take on why he doesn't like to give any explanation or deconstruction of his cinematic choices. He says that the past has only one path whereas the future has any number of possible paths. Likewise by not giving any explanation for the movie he was keeping those umpteen possibilities of perception open. What I really liked about Thiagarajan is his refusal to pander to the public. It's pretty clear that he wants to create movies that meet his own standard of excellence; this authenticity and integrity is probably what differentiates him from someone who just makes and sells movies (or anything else for that matter).

There is a bit where he talks about his creative process... and I couldn't but help relate it to my writing process, a big piece of which is the freedom to 'do nothing'. Not everyone gets it so it's wonderful to hear someone talking about it. Here's the bit:

Thiagarajan Kumararaja: "To be honest, some scenes you can crack in minutes. Sometimes the entire idea can be cracked in 30 minutes. But for that half an hour to happen, you'll laze around... go through that phase of... I was reading this quote a couple of days back... A writer is somebody who is writing when he is not writing...

 But it will convince you only when you get it on paper. You won't know when that moment will come."

I should learn to let go of riddles and mysteries instead of trying to solve every one of them. The other problem with this attitude is that I try to read more into situations, events or people than probably there is to read. That leads to misunderstandings and suspicions that are probably baseless. All because I want to figure it out. I am not sure of how to let go of the urge to find certainty—maybe truth—and be content in ambiguity, in not knowing, in not having perfect knowledge, in letting things just be. I read the term ‘letting-be’ in another context a while back and I realized that I really do not know how to ‘let be’. I have to poke and probe and trouble and get to the bottom. I cannot let it be. I don’t want to be dismissive of myself because I think a lot of good comes out of not letting things be. Letting be can in a sense amount to letting the status quo be. It is perhaps a position of some privilege. But maybe there is something to be said for balance? There always is, I imagine. How do I balance my desire for truth with a reasonable amount of uncertainty? How do I reconcile myself to the idea that there may be some inherent merit in letting be because not everything is fathomable or knowable… even to itself? That things might not be straightforward enough to ‘solve’ like a problem and multiple truths can coexist? I don’t know how to reach this state but as with all things… perhaps reflecting on this is as good a starting point as any…

I am back—not sure whether the word ‘home’ is apt for where I went to or where I am back to…? What I called home since my childhood seems to have become more of a transient place now, a place I visit, a place that I look forward to, a place that is my reward or treat… and where I am now is where I come back to, the everyday that I have come to be used to. The latter seems more like a definition of home but why be bound by definitions? So far in my life I have always wanted stable categories but now I am veering towards fluidity. I do not have to define this or that as home… home can be where the hearth is or heart is or any number of things. It felt like home in Mangalore but I have never really lived in Mangalore for any length of time… even though it is what I call ‘where I originally come from’. One could say that definition makes no sense so far as ‘home’ is concerned because I don’t have much of a lived history there. But one can’t discount a feeling, can one?

I have more to say on the topic of travel, place, rootedness etc but for another post…

So... I am all set for my flight to Mumbai in a few hours! I can't believe I have not been home - home as place - for 5 years. Not for lack of wanting to... who could have predicted covid and all the drama in between. The images of home seem so far away now that the idea of physically being there overwhelms me. As if it's too much for my imagination to cope... And what is even more exciting is I am going to what was literally home, Mumbai, and emotionally/spiritually/ancestrally home, Mangalore. I feel like my heart will burst... but more specifically, my stomach... hehehe! I am dying to have all the good stuff in good old Mangalore. Dosas, idlis, ambades, sajige bajils, gadbads... I could go on and on... but I won't. Because I will be there soon enough! ;)

My life is going to get very adventurous for the next few months. Not just because it is pretty routine otherwise, but by all measures I guess! My seatbelts are on, hehe.

These days when I have to make a decision, I ask myself a - what might seem like - a morbid question. What would I have done if I was going to die tomorrow? Seen from this perspective, there is a lot more clarity. Would I do what I do day in, day out, have breakfast, go through the motions, etc or would I for instance see a part of the world I have never seen? Or be with people I don't get to be with often? I have for some years now realised that an experience in itself is worth more than material possessions. Of course, not all experiences have value for me. I wouldn't care for, for instance, bungee jumping or sky diving. But each to their own. Maybe for some people these would be of value. Coming to my original point, by asking myself this stark question, I realised that ordinarily we just go on as if our lives (and others') are infinite. Our decisions are based on this assumption of longevity. In a way we do have to assume this if we are to have security into the future but it seems to me we are so caught up with that secure future that we are never making decisions for the present. If I knew I was going to die tomorrow, I would do the things that actually give me joy today. In the absence of this 'deadline', we make choices that are just sound and sensible from a future perspective. These are also choices that everyone else is generally making because everyone is looking to the future. Maybe why when people do things that are not the norm we wonder what's got into them but actually they might be doing what they want to do now or what brings them happiness, more conscious of their finitude than we are.

As someone said, the ships in the harbour are safe but that is not what ships are built for. What would be the use of a safe and secure future at the cost of always staying in the harbour... never finding out what we are built for?

It's not enough

To be enough

These days

Or do enough

Or make enough

We are trapped

Completely

Inexorably

In the culture

Of more

And more

And more

A better job

House

Car

And what have you

Things outwear

Their welcome

Soon

We seek

New

And better

And shinier

Why can't

We live

Satisfied

Content

With little

With what we

Have

Why must we

Go after

Pursue

Fight

Compete

Why not

Grow

Foster

Nurture

What's

Inside

Will we ever

Stop

Our quest?

Where

Can it lead

Running

Round

And round

In circles

Finally

To rest

In one spot

But alas

Too late

~Me

Typically when I feel that I have not performed at my best or failed at something, there is a temptation to wallow. I don’t usually blame myself because I trust that I want to do my best, even if it isn’t objectively the best. But I can’t help feeling sad and the mind always starts going over what I could have done differently. I wonder how it might be possible to simply hold things very lightly. If it wasn’t my best, maybe it was not meant to be. And if it was meant to be, my less-than-best will also be good enough. Ultimately there is something more to be learnt from these events when things don’t go as well as planned than when they did. Maybe the point of some of these events is not success or failure but enrichment of experience. No experience is a waste in that sense. It introduces you to something, teaches you something, shows you something, gives you something etc. I already know a few things this experience gave me… one must be happy and grateful for those things. Why want success at any rate or every time? When it is meant to be, it will be… at its own time, when the time is right. And if it doesn’t, then maybe that’s just as well too. As I think sometimes when I am trying to be grateful in spite of myself, at least half the world’s population isn’t as fortunate as I am. Back in India, I only had to look around me, to not need more evidence of the fact. Out here sometimes I miss those signals but they don’t need to stare me in the face for me to know that all said and done, there’s much to be grateful for.

I wish I could be more like Miranda in that British soap...here's the kind of things she gets up to… having fun even with goofing things up big time…!

I am a firm believer in the power of persuasion. It's not hard to convince reasonable people if you use logic, argument, and rhetoric to good effect. Mind you, part of why they work for me is that I believe in the soundness of my position. I couldn't ever try to convince anyone if I wasn't convinced myself. Which perhaps means—now that I think of it—that the power probably lies in my authenticity. Authenticity invites trust. Rhetoric probably would fail if it came from an inauthentic place. People can see through fake. Or at least some can.

Well, my point was something else. Recently someone said some things to me that made me want to jump to my usual habit of defence through logic and argument. Make them realise their position is wrong. Show them evidence. Beat them with counter-examples. You get the drift. I had a lovely essay in my head to put to them and it almost seemed criminal to waste this masterpiece. But I stopped myself short... ironically with an argument. I felt in this particular instance I must resort to a more difficult technique. Silence. Not silence to prove a point but because it seems to me that in certain cases if people do something because you persuaded them with logic, their doing isn't worth it. The emotion of the thing is where it really is at. And it needs to be felt naturally. To give a bad example, if someone came to drop me at the airport in the middle of the night because I asked them to... wouldn't be the same as someone who did it because they wanted to! My silence is an invitation to let them figure out what they would rather do.

These days I listen to 70s-80s Hindi music in the late evening instead of my go-to 60s-70s-80s English music. I notice it creates a completely different mood, not just in the house but in my mindspace and heartspace. The mood is low-key nostalgic and melancholic or transcendent and hopeful or playful and anticipating. Transports me in one way or another.

I sometimes try to translate some words into English in my head to see what effect they'd produce, like this romantic and playful song. It just falls flat because the rhythm and tonality of words is impossible to capture... at least for me! See below...

Mein shayar

Toh nahin

Magar ae haseen

Jab se dekha

Meine tujhko

Mujhko

Shayrii

Aa gayi

A poet

I am not

But oh beautiful

Ever since

I saw you

I knew how to

Do

Poetry