Backyard Destiny (1)

How would we describe rain? The rain that dances or the rain that pours or destroys or floods? Rain, captures time in its most vulnerable moments and freezes it. In each moment lies our dreams, hence we create a circle around us cocooning that dream and we cherish the moment forever. We live every second of it, in and around the rain drops, and as the crystal cold droplets let drift enigmatic breezes that rejuvenates every cell in us, we float into the hands of destiny. Dreamers in Nirvana.

The pails in the snap are 'water catchment devices' that my grandma lines up in our backyard to collect rainwater for her vegetable patch. Almost every bit of the image drives me into an emotional roller coaster ride, every pixel of it hold stories and legends. All those years gone by where we worked on a larger garden in our village house, where I ruled the mango tree, seldom coming down even when it gets dark, the trips into the 'forest' at the back of the house to collect herbs, collect cow dung for the 'kolam' base, the tiny river that snakes through the land, the snakes that strays into our well, the coconut trees and the occasional dry coconut that falls onto the tin roof and never to forget the adventures to collect mushrooms that sprouts magically after the rain...those were the days. What was her motivation to go through what seems to me now to be a very monotonous life. I'd love to go back in time, but then again I feel its so routine for them. How the days will go past with the same electrical buzz, fast and relentlessly aging our every cell.

Their destinies charted in the backyard, in the kitchen where they cook and live. Where their soul raised countless sprouts of flora that vegetated my mind with ideas of a life. No forest was a deterrent for them as they ravaged for tapioca roots and wild seeds for exotic delicacies such as keveru puttu that are norm today. Their sweat and blood on the land that was their God, for the land that they prayed daily as they sat at the backyard fresh from their chantings, admiring the setting sun. These are women who spent their lifetime in the backyard, whom now cant ever look back at their younger days for they have lived their legacies. And who are we now to recall all this memories for we have not toiled in the sun to raise a generation.

The days of recollection will continue. The voices of the mother's of the land will be heard.

[+] If you have a story from your childhood of your mother or grandmother please do share. Make this a tag, try to live for a day or a 'post' the lifetime that has gone past.

Philosophy Blog War

Managed to unleash my philosophy blabber to the world. And started a war at that. So please be nice and vote for me here or be forever damned to you cubicle drinking cold coffee and wishing you were in Hawaii but never get to be there and wish you had a real beautiful hottie as a PA but never get to have that and wish...

VOTE FOR ME!!!

Wide Eyed Wanderer (3); Faces of Reality

...the forest wasn't petrified with ages of history, it was laid out to be forever fresh, forever alive. The days and night, the scents, the space, the eyes and the flow of time, a sensual drift of atoms and divine fascination of life in the universe. The forest tells of birth, of life and of death, of humans, the stars and the tinniest leaves...

Peering through the organic mesh, the forest floor of timeless leaves, scattered not knowing their purpose, was the yellow flowers. Countless yellow flowers which bring life and love. Mesmerizing petals, neatly arranged in circular dreams radiating infinitely to the edges of imagination. These flowers float majestically in the golden pot of pearl water, peering again as its past life, but this time from a artificial world. On the morning of the triumph of good, we saw new hopes and aspirations born.

As I traversed space and time, I looked around me to see more life. Green 'petals' that a long time ago I learned was a life giver. From it roots planted in soft clay that made the terracota warriors, to its stalk immersed in water from the exploring rivers, another life giver, rises green towers with shiny swords of leaves that radiated from its memory. And from this, within its core, from its genetic memory rises a soul in the form of paddy. Concealed in its yellowing skin, when removed in time reveals the divine rice. Capsuled in its most prominent form, the rice multiplies into countless mirror images which then feeds billions of lives.

As the day rages on, unstoppable, the greatness passed and magical lights slowly looses its luster. But we humans define greatness, we witness form and pleasure. We want happiness. As the friends and family gather and laughter and music paints the cells of night, two arms hides a beautiful face. And the forms of the forest made of trees and leaves hide a lot of creation too. Some we find, some hidden from our perception and observation while some just wither away into dust. We humans hide our colour, our eyes, our soul but we want to share our presence. As those arms cover the faces of reality, we hide the true feelings but ultimately we reveal our purpose. And the day and night lasts forever waiting for conclusions that never came and voices that never silences. So through culture our voices travels the world and no hidden form will erase this memory.

The stars hang in the sky. If you take a time lapse photography you can see it move, radiate across the sky just like the flower, the paddy plant and the hidden faces. It radiates life. So through ages humans wanted to rival the greatness of the stars. And many lights since creation succeeded to mask these creatures of fire from the sky. But as it radiates and drifts through space gently not knowing of us, these stars leave trails of memory and inspiration. Hence, on the days of joy and when culture melts in the roads of destiny we burst crackers and parade fireworks to rival the gigantic stars. As the sparkles of fire shoot to the sky, they reach new heights momentarily taller than anything and in their few seconds of existence shows how much we admire the fires in the sky. And when it explodes it radiates color and life.

[-] These are imaginary descriptions of the photos in the post below. Each of them have great significance in my life. The first is the flower decoration by my brother, it was really beautiful and it signals never ending aspirations. The second is the paddy fields in my hometown; my state is know as the rice bowl of the nation. The third is taken during the Deepavali gathering on the second day of celebrations and the last are fireworks caught in the slates of time...

Wide Eyed Wanderer (2); Majestic Journeys

Colours For Free...

Yellowing Leaves and the Wide Eyed Wanderer (1)

Today marks another sad departure in my life. Departure of a few good guys, a few good friends who left important marks in this short journey of a life, and left lasting impressions. Every step that we take are for the better, for the best that we want to see in ourselves and others. What more if we are doing something that benefits a wide range of people and for the good of the future generation. And nothing less that changing the course of education for millions of students that is!

The sad thing about all this is not that I wont see them again but because they're leaving after doing such a pivotal thing without getting the respect and appreciation that they deserve. For all they did, for all the hours spent, muddled in gruelling tasks that seems never ending, days lasting eternity, meetings in hell, facing voices you wish never spoken, and arguments that broke friendships, they are leaving just like the yellowing leaf, waiting for its day to wither away.

When we often hear that we can change destiny and fate, there are these particulate voices around us starting a rebellion. This faceless mutiny of time challenging that very notion. No we cannot change destiny and fate, if destiny and fate does not exists in the first place. We are all victims of consequences, good or bad, victims for the better or for worse. Victim because we are implicated in it, because we are facing it. I always believed, not minding the optimist, not wanting to be the pessimist, that the future is what we make of it in the sense that we face what comes. There is no changing the future because our actions have accumulated for so long. The moment something happens, we spell fate without thinking that these events are started a long time ago by us, by our predecessors. We take the shortcut in saying that these are fate and we would be forever imprisoned by our ideologies if we stick to it. But we must stick to it because we are on the correct track, we are going forward. What we can change is the perception of dealing with fate. If we know danger is instore, we can make plans to lessen the pain, we cant avert the danger by going all out in ignoring it, or mending the broken signs because the mechanics of such dangers are wide, it crosses time and space, people and borders.

This job came to me, I did not seek it out, and by reading this you could say I'm a lucky dude. But then I did lay a plan for this, it dawned upon me later on. Being a freelancer, being on the internet, being 'out there'. So they found me, they liked me and they hired me. I met all kinds of people. I understood them. I knew whats instore, I followed their plans and charted mine. Then we had the 'gang' from Chennai. These guys are like brothers to me, their own fate crossing mine, their aspirations landed them here. But theyre fiercely nationalistic, you cant reason with them on India, about cricket, about politics. But there again lies the fun in it, the argument, the challenges because ultimately friendship speaks louder than any country or race.

Human nature seldom mixes well with changing times. We meet new people, we see new places and things, but our habits takes ages to change. I have this strange admiration to the institution called 'friendship'. Like these guys from Chennai, like anyone who stand by what they believe, I believe in friendship as the defining moments in our lives. The one force that brings us all together. I am fiercely loyal to it. Its my nationalistic admiration, the country called Friends, the world called Friends because I am able to give everything if only you give me space. But then I always fail to see another aspect of this. Not everyone can have the same ideals, and aspirations. As much as they can sacrifice, they cant kill their own dreams for the sake of someone whose not 'blood'. I did meet great friends, but they too wither away into history. I feel like I'm standing beyond time now, able to watch people change but myself not being able to adapt to this changes.

As the days past, the weeks, the months, I listened to their amazing stories of India, of the fun and joy and realized how much we are lacking here. They have carefree moments in middle of adversity, they have smiles on their faces when they had the most problems, they understood life more than anyone. They're not the nomadic me, they are not timetravellers, they're rooted here in their own dimension, their own reality never giving up. That is the greatest lesson anyone can learn from them. In between their happiness and joy, in whichever moment, they never said no. Not even when I shouted and was adamant in my demands. Not even when they were asked to work for days without sleep, not even when they were trashed. They are rooted so strongly to the eternal motherland that they have a reference point for them to melt away the anger and problems. They are warriors in the lands of nomads, nomads like me who has the tinniest possible perception of humans are in turn lost in causality.

The question remains, weather we live in a society of cause and effect, of peoples who wait for things to happen OR are we humans, the lost creatures without a direction to the future?

This nomadic soul will feel left again, lonely facing the future unknown. I wish I can be together with everyone I ever knew, but then again everyone else wants to fall back to their own places and meet people who means more to them. Maybe I lost my own past so long ago, somewhere that I must seek. For now I can only wish these guys the best of luck. May they bring light to another country, as the brains of the world and may India continue to inspire the world for a better future. For every soul that they touch, another star will rise in the sky to let know that we appreciate you and what you 'code' for the world.

So long Muthu (and the gang). May we meet in the future. So long my friend(s)...

You Can Really Taste Your Ghost Particle!

Had fun with this random generator: Slogan Generator . Here are the myriad of ways you can treat 'your' Ghost Particle.

Nobody Better Lay a Finger on my Ghost Particle. (----> This sounds weird no?)

I'd Like to Buy the World a Ghost Particle. (----> A Gp a day...)

What Can Ghost Particle Do For You? (----> Shoot!)

Get Busy with the Ghost Particle. (----> Anytime!)

Please Don't Squeeze The Ghost Particle. (----> you can hug me gently...)

Good to the Last Ghost Particle. (----> smookin!!!)

Give the Dog a Ghost Particle. (----> Uh!!!)

Have You Had Your Ghost Particle Today? (----> Have you?)

The Coolest Ghost Particle on Ice. (----> Who d' man!)

Hungry? Why Wait? Grab a Ghost Particle. (----> Ouch!)

Half the Ghost Particle, All the Taste. (----> Yeh Baby!)

The Ghost Particle that Smiles Back. (----> Smile...there is nothing more generous)

How Many Licks Does it Take to Get to the Center of a Ghost Particle? (----> Oh man!)

More Than Just a Ghost Particle. (----> Part vanilla ice cream, part particle).

What's In Your Ghost Particle? (----> you have one?)

If You Want To Get Ahead, Get A Ghost Particle. (----> gimme a buzz, I'll show u da world!)

Look For The Ghost Particle Label. (----> In a store near you.)

It's That Ghost Particle Feeling. (----> Some day, when its raining, you get the Gp feeling!)

On some weekends...

What depression and some crazy friends can do to you...

[*] that by the way is the Carlsberg Beer Tower. An ingenious creation of man, it holds two jugs of beer in it and, AND! ice cubes that doesn't mix with the beer. Simply amazing. The people behind this should get a Nobel Prize.

Aging Winds

during the days of rain and thunder
somewhere a child died
along a red dusty road
on a continent black as cinder

bare hands deep in the soil
digging live bodies
dead in many tragedies
a mind in turmoil

crying during moonlit nights
dark eyes faking emotion(s)
all around bodies for cremation
ashes in imaginary flights

on a future day awaken
spirits from the cold air
from distances of unknown lair(s)
born babies soon forsaken

-gp2006-

[-] Been long since I've written a poem. This one is dedicated to the Darfur childrens. May they see the light of the day, someday.

Ghost Tags: Ghost+Poem

Literati To The Masses!

There is one reason why I don't like to do book tags. Its because everyone else will have massive world changing reading lists and all I have to bragg is Science Fiction which 99% of the world don't even bother to know about. Its a small, not so literati world out...here! But still, I was forced and the force is still being...forced upon me. I dug deep into the past, collected the lost synapse signals in my brain and came out with this list which contains more than science fiction! Gautami, your tag is my command.

[1] One book that changed your life

Vacuum Diagrams by Stephen Baxter. This is the first SB book that I ever read and it took me into the complex, chaotic world of hard sf. I never turned back. The Vacuum Diagrams contains stories in the world of Xeelee, an advanced alien species created by Mr.Baxter. The one single thing that I love of Baxter stories are his immense timeline that spans billions of years. It creates a sense of universal belonging and massive evolutionary forces working in our universe.

[2] One book that you have read more than once

Contact by Carl Sagan. Dr Sagan's science fiction novel of an alien message that prompts humans to build a gigantic machine that transports the time-nauts into a distant galaxy is a classic! The ideas are simply amazing and most important of all, the novel has a human feeling to it. (an an Indian character whose is a time-naut as well!)

[3] One book that you would want on a desert island

Playboy is not a book right...I would love to read any of the Veda's or the Gita. Maybe being alone on a desert island would let the mind comprehend the true nature of religious scripts. If not I would want to read the full Calvin and Hobbes comic strip collection which is probably the most true and intelligent strip ever.

[4] One book that made you cry

I had a few books that moved me to tears...but if it must be one, the this is it: Between Father and Son: Family Letters of VS Naipaul. When I read this book, it felt like I lived his life. It was an amazing journey through time, the evolution of a true genius. I would read this book again if I manage to source it, somehow the copy at the library is missing. The other book that made me cry (nearly) would be Ha Jin's War Trash. The story was written with such realism that you would never want to imagine what war and the battlefield would really feel. Trust me, we are bloody damn lucky to be born after the great wars.

[5] One book that made you laugh

The one book tha made me laugh that I'm currently reading is Weak At The Top: The uncensored diary of the last cave manager by Guy Browning. It's a bloody funny book, and you have to read to believe it. Yeh! Guy Browning also presents the Small Talk comedy series on BBC Radio 4.

[6] One book that you wish had been written

If there is one book that I would really want to be written and be read by everyone is the "History of the South Indian Tamil's in Malaysia". So much have happened in more than a century of our migration to this country and South East Asia in general but there is so little written about them (us). The book should contain the Journeys of the people from India, the Early Settlements, the British years and the Estates, the Japanese years, Independence of Malaya, political evolution, socio-economic evolution, the local cultural evolution and where we are today. Maybe I will write this one day.

[7] One book that you wish had never been written

One (TYPE) of book that I wish had never been written would be the religious bibles. To much suffering because of some religious relic. While it could be a genius work of someone long ago, or some collected ideas of voices from the sky, it doesn't justify the billions of stupid people who don't understand it. So, for better or worst, we could just do without religions writings

[8] One book(S) you are currently reading

Perfectly Reasonable Deviations From The Beaten Track: The Letters Of Richard P. Feynman which is an amazing book, Moonseed and Coalescent by Stephen Baxter because I simply love Baxter's SF, In the Ocean Of Night by Gregory Benford another SF genius and some articles on SEO copywriting.

[9] One book you have been meaning to read

The Chronicles of Ghost Particle, the legendary 23rd century Time Traveler. I heard it's been published somewhere in the future, so if anyone found it in the present time please please do tell me :-D

[*] I have finally updated Flickr with my brand new Fuji Finepix Z2 ultra super, amazing great compact digital cam snaps. So enjoy the photos and leave ur comments here: Ghost Flickr

Man Of Letters - Literati

Whom the Gods wish to destroy, they first call promising
- Cyril Connolly

[+] Cyril Connolly is often referred to as the Man Of Letters. Considered a rare breed, they are intellectuals who impose huge influence on the masses with their popular opinions in various fields.