I don't gamble, especially with money.
But sometimes I have to, just for the sake of keeping up appearances.
Today we had our New Year Party.
It was slightly better than the sad x-mas party we had on this ship.
For one, I won some money!
Secondly, we had some more suckling pig.and this one looked hideous! I could
see its eyeballs, its ears and even it's teeth-intact and vulgarly sticking
out. Most of us wouldn't go near that thing.
We all watched it like it was an exhibit from a nearby freak show.
We also had a turkey.I know, traditionalists will claims turkeys for
Thanksgiving, but out at sea, beggars can't be choosers. The turkey had an
apple stuffed up its wazoo.which led to some very interesting and
entertaining discussions.
Nobody wanted the apple though!
It was tainted forever by going where the sun don't shine!
We played Housie.
As I said before I don't like to play with money.but whenever I do, I always
break even.
Mysterious forces or not, I can always predict my winnings with an uncanny
accuracy.
For a 5 $ ticket, I won 25 $...and last time I played I won 15 $.
I usually win back the principal, but on rare occasions, I win a lot more.'
But I always win.
Rather, I play only when I know that I'll win.
I'll sit out a game if the gut feeling is all wrong.
I usually don't play more than a game, because it causes general resentment
among those who usually don't win.
Also, I don't want to push my luck. I don't know I f I'm saving it up, but I
don't want to use it all up on something as frivolous as Housie.
Well that's all for now.
I don't have anything smart or witty to say, but I do wish all of you a very
Happy (whatever 'Happy' means to you) New Year from the bottom of my heart
(wherever that is).
Happy New Year!
May this year be much more interesting than the last one.
Amen.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Wed, 31 Dec 2008 12:37 UTC
Message-id: 710771485S244
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Saturday, December 27, 2008
Terms Of Endearment
This is getting to be irritating!
We went to the bank in westernport, Australia to exchange some local
currency.
After I went in , I stood there waiting near the information booth and the
bank teller, a thirty something lady said to me 'Honey! Child ! Go stand
over there , and someone will come talk to you shortly'
Honey? Child?
I'm not a f%$^%*ng child!
Women, a word of advice.
Do not use terms of endearment when you don't mean them.
Don't call me a Dear if I'm not dear to you.
Don't call me Honey, if I'm not your Honey.
It irritates the hell out of me.
I know, you girls do it with quite often with each other, but I'm not a
girl!
Mean it when you say it. Or don't say it at all.
That's all.
In the local pub, the barkeep asked me how old I was.
25, I said.
She wanted proof.
She said I looked way too young.
I asked her age.
She said she was 21.
And I shot back saying 'You don't have to lie to me, you know...I don't mind
talking to older women'
Ho Ho! Revenge is sweet!
No, No! She protested that she was 21 and flashed her license at me.
I said I didn't care.
And I didn't have to prove my age because I didn't come to the bar to drink
alcohol.I came here with the other crew members for the company.
I told her about the strict Zero-Alcohol policy on board and asked for a
coke.
But really, it's not that asians look younger.
It's just that most caucasians look older when compared.
A 16 year old caucasian girl would look more like a 20 year old asian
because they are physically more developed in all areas.
They are usually taller,heavier and fuller bodied, whereas your asian
counterpart is so waif-ish and short looks like she's just had her sweet
sixteen!
Of course, you don't have to agree with me, as this is just a rant.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 27 Dec 2008 23:41 UTC
Message-id: 709949549S35
We went to the bank in westernport, Australia to exchange some local
currency.
After I went in , I stood there waiting near the information booth and the
bank teller, a thirty something lady said to me 'Honey! Child ! Go stand
over there , and someone will come talk to you shortly'
Honey? Child?
I'm not a f%$^%*ng child!
Women, a word of advice.
Do not use terms of endearment when you don't mean them.
Don't call me a Dear if I'm not dear to you.
Don't call me Honey, if I'm not your Honey.
It irritates the hell out of me.
I know, you girls do it with quite often with each other, but I'm not a
girl!
Mean it when you say it. Or don't say it at all.
That's all.
In the local pub, the barkeep asked me how old I was.
25, I said.
She wanted proof.
She said I looked way too young.
I asked her age.
She said she was 21.
And I shot back saying 'You don't have to lie to me, you know...I don't mind
talking to older women'
Ho Ho! Revenge is sweet!
No, No! She protested that she was 21 and flashed her license at me.
I said I didn't care.
And I didn't have to prove my age because I didn't come to the bar to drink
alcohol.I came here with the other crew members for the company.
I told her about the strict Zero-Alcohol policy on board and asked for a
coke.
But really, it's not that asians look younger.
It's just that most caucasians look older when compared.
A 16 year old caucasian girl would look more like a 20 year old asian
because they are physically more developed in all areas.
They are usually taller,heavier and fuller bodied, whereas your asian
counterpart is so waif-ish and short looks like she's just had her sweet
sixteen!
Of course, you don't have to agree with me, as this is just a rant.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 27 Dec 2008 23:41 UTC
Message-id: 709949549S35
Anger Management
How do you get your grip on rage when all you want to do is beat the crap
out of someone just to spend your anger?
I got really angry today.
I've been seeing a growing trend of neglect and apathy these days on the
ship.
Just after the safety drills ,I found the SCBA (short for Self Contained
Breathing Apparatus) kept the wrong way, despite telling people that it will
get damaged in that position.
What's more , I even found a safety lantern missing from the SCBA
harness.Some Bloody Motherf*ckin Idiot had taken it and never bothered to
return it back.One of the buttons on the SCBA was damaged and the forward
fire hose was leaking...In short -Total Disaster.
And who's gonna be held responsible?
Me.(And the Master of course)
Why?
Because I'm in charge of their maintenance.
Arrghh!
I tried to find out who had taken the missing safety lantern and I was met
with total indifference,lack of co-operation,apathy and evasiveness.
'No, I've never seen it'
'What? You were the last one using it!'
'Yeah, but it was like that when I got there...Yeah, it was like that when I
got there'
There was a tide of impotent rage rising in my blood, and it made me wanna
go...
Arrghh!
WTF@$#^%&*@()&)@!WhatiswrongwithyouyoustupidmotherF@#$@$!^*)%^
Ok this is my secret for being thin ( despite eating like a horse)
I exercise when I get angry.
Many have admired the fact that they have never seen me getting angry.
But I do get angry.
And then I release it with exercise.
At home , I release it on my punching bag.
So far I've damaged three punching bags as a result.This time Dad has
promised a custom made heavy duty punching bag that can withstand my
onslaught.
I doubt it.
I'm pretty relentless.
But what about it when I'm on ships ?
Well,I had a missing lantern, a leaking hose, a damaged button -and all
these things were important enough to get the ship detained in any of the
ports.
This was not small stuff that I could just pooh-pooh it away.
My anger was rising like mercury on a hot summer day,and then Zen happened.I
had a mini 'Satori', a moment of clarity , of revelation.
I realised that people are assholes and they would remain to be so.
My anger was impotent because it led me nowhere closer to the solution.I
would now have to waste precious hours tracking a stupid safety lantern and
these assholes would not make it any easier in finding it.But it had to be
done.In the scheme of all things important , this was on the top ten list.So
it had to be done.With or without their help.
Well, fuck them.
So I tried to calm myself down , trying to explain to myself how my anger
was unproductive and how these people did not even deserve my anger, but it
didn't work.
My anger was frtothing over and I decided to start looking for the
lantern.An hour's worth of searching yielded no results, but worse, my anger
had not simmered down and I didn't like the fact that I'd give into an
outburst if this rage continued.
So I went to the gym, locked the dood, and started loading the barbell until
it was very heavy.(60 kg)
Started with a few Clean and Jerks and then did a few military presses.Now
with the physical exertion my anger was subsiding.
Did a few other lifts including my favorite- The Deadlift using all the
plates on the barbell(nearly 90kg)
That left me tired and spent but feeling very peaceful and no longer angry.
p.s. Yesterday I told you about the sinking Yacht.It's name was Georgia.
It came on the 6 o'clock news today.All of them are ok.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 27 Dec 2008 13:05 UTC
Message-id: 709879628S9
out of someone just to spend your anger?
I got really angry today.
I've been seeing a growing trend of neglect and apathy these days on the
ship.
Just after the safety drills ,I found the SCBA (short for Self Contained
Breathing Apparatus) kept the wrong way, despite telling people that it will
get damaged in that position.
What's more , I even found a safety lantern missing from the SCBA
harness.Some Bloody Motherf*ckin Idiot had taken it and never bothered to
return it back.One of the buttons on the SCBA was damaged and the forward
fire hose was leaking...In short -Total Disaster.
And who's gonna be held responsible?
Me.(And the Master of course)
Why?
Because I'm in charge of their maintenance.
Arrghh!
I tried to find out who had taken the missing safety lantern and I was met
with total indifference,lack of co-operation,apathy and evasiveness.
'No, I've never seen it'
'What? You were the last one using it!'
'Yeah, but it was like that when I got there...Yeah, it was like that when I
got there'
There was a tide of impotent rage rising in my blood, and it made me wanna
go...
Arrghh!
WTF@$#^%&*@()&)@!WhatiswrongwithyouyoustupidmotherF@#$@$!^*)%^
Ok this is my secret for being thin ( despite eating like a horse)
I exercise when I get angry.
Many have admired the fact that they have never seen me getting angry.
But I do get angry.
And then I release it with exercise.
At home , I release it on my punching bag.
So far I've damaged three punching bags as a result.This time Dad has
promised a custom made heavy duty punching bag that can withstand my
onslaught.
I doubt it.
I'm pretty relentless.
But what about it when I'm on ships ?
Well,I had a missing lantern, a leaking hose, a damaged button -and all
these things were important enough to get the ship detained in any of the
ports.
This was not small stuff that I could just pooh-pooh it away.
My anger was rising like mercury on a hot summer day,and then Zen happened.I
had a mini 'Satori', a moment of clarity , of revelation.
I realised that people are assholes and they would remain to be so.
My anger was impotent because it led me nowhere closer to the solution.I
would now have to waste precious hours tracking a stupid safety lantern and
these assholes would not make it any easier in finding it.But it had to be
done.In the scheme of all things important , this was on the top ten list.So
it had to be done.With or without their help.
Well, fuck them.
So I tried to calm myself down , trying to explain to myself how my anger
was unproductive and how these people did not even deserve my anger, but it
didn't work.
My anger was frtothing over and I decided to start looking for the
lantern.An hour's worth of searching yielded no results, but worse, my anger
had not simmered down and I didn't like the fact that I'd give into an
outburst if this rage continued.
So I went to the gym, locked the dood, and started loading the barbell until
it was very heavy.(60 kg)
Started with a few Clean and Jerks and then did a few military presses.Now
with the physical exertion my anger was subsiding.
Did a few other lifts including my favorite- The Deadlift using all the
plates on the barbell(nearly 90kg)
That left me tired and spent but feeling very peaceful and no longer angry.
p.s. Yesterday I told you about the sinking Yacht.It's name was Georgia.
It came on the 6 o'clock news today.All of them are ok.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 27 Dec 2008 13:05 UTC
Message-id: 709879628S9
Friday, December 26, 2008
Party Pooper
We had to postpone our x-mas party by a day.
This party was held tonight .
The unanimously held opinion on board was that this party was the worst
x-mas party ever to be held in the history of Clipper Sun.
The food was not so bad-Malai Kofta, Fried Rice, suckling pig , some
Filipino chicken leg thingy, a few pakoras,veg pulao and soft drinks .That
was our fare for the day.
But something was missing.
We all felt dry.
The problem with most tankers is that they are Dry Ships.
Dry in the sense that there is not a drop of alcohol on board.
The cargo (33000 Tons of Butane and propane in this case) is deemed to be
far too precious to be put in the hands of inebriated sailors.
Thus alcohol of any kind is not allowed by company policy.
Now for a non-drinker and non-smoker, vegetarian -bean-sprout eating health
nut-exercise freak like me, this poses no problem, but to many others still
not habituated to lack of alcohol ,it does .
They crib all day about the lack of alcohol, but know that violating company
policy is grounds for immediate dismissal.
So we had a very dry x-mas.
We sang a few carols, and then bims and goc-ong (we call him Goku-The super
saiyyan) played a few of their favorite x-mas songs and then we ate plum
cake and that was it.
But then we had a Party pooper.
An emergency !
I was summoned to the bridge as we had received a distress message from a
yacht nearby.
There was a Yacht race going on and one of the boats started flooding and
they had initiated a mayday call.
We were nearby and so bound by the Sydney Coastguard and by Maritime laws to
assist the sinking yacht.
We made all preparations but then another yacht nearby had provided
assistance to the sinking yacht and we were released from our obligation and
allowed to continue our voyage.
Now we are on our way to south korea. The last I heard about the boat was a
message on the VHF radio by the coastguard warning all sailors about the
boat being awash at so-and so position.
The crew of the boat were rescued with no loss to life.
Well, I just felt like telling this to someone else before going to sleep.
Good Night.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Fri, 26 Dec 2008 12:45 UTC
Message-id: 709685818S24
This party was held tonight .
The unanimously held opinion on board was that this party was the worst
x-mas party ever to be held in the history of Clipper Sun.
The food was not so bad-Malai Kofta, Fried Rice, suckling pig , some
Filipino chicken leg thingy, a few pakoras,veg pulao and soft drinks .That
was our fare for the day.
But something was missing.
We all felt dry.
The problem with most tankers is that they are Dry Ships.
Dry in the sense that there is not a drop of alcohol on board.
The cargo (33000 Tons of Butane and propane in this case) is deemed to be
far too precious to be put in the hands of inebriated sailors.
Thus alcohol of any kind is not allowed by company policy.
Now for a non-drinker and non-smoker, vegetarian -bean-sprout eating health
nut-exercise freak like me, this poses no problem, but to many others still
not habituated to lack of alcohol ,it does .
They crib all day about the lack of alcohol, but know that violating company
policy is grounds for immediate dismissal.
So we had a very dry x-mas.
We sang a few carols, and then bims and goc-ong (we call him Goku-The super
saiyyan) played a few of their favorite x-mas songs and then we ate plum
cake and that was it.
But then we had a Party pooper.
An emergency !
I was summoned to the bridge as we had received a distress message from a
yacht nearby.
There was a Yacht race going on and one of the boats started flooding and
they had initiated a mayday call.
We were nearby and so bound by the Sydney Coastguard and by Maritime laws to
assist the sinking yacht.
We made all preparations but then another yacht nearby had provided
assistance to the sinking yacht and we were released from our obligation and
allowed to continue our voyage.
Now we are on our way to south korea. The last I heard about the boat was a
message on the VHF radio by the coastguard warning all sailors about the
boat being awash at so-and so position.
The crew of the boat were rescued with no loss to life.
Well, I just felt like telling this to someone else before going to sleep.
Good Night.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Fri, 26 Dec 2008 12:45 UTC
Message-id: 709685818S24
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Meri X-mas?
It was a busy x-mas for us at Clipper Sun.
We were loading butane in three of our four cargo tanks to discharge it in
South Korea and Japan.
Now we have departed from Australia, never to return again (until next time)
on X-mas evening.
We are tired. Dog Dead Tired.
I haven't slept in the last 18 hrs.
This isn't something new. It happens a lot.
Welcome to my world.
There's a saying here on the ship...'On a ship, there are no Sundays ‘,
which is true, because every day is a work day no matter what and will
remain so until you sign off and go home.
A ship berthed next us went on a strike and refused to work on x-mas eve and
x-mas and the day after .We salute their foolhardy courage. (And tch tch
their short spanned careers)
But the 3 weeks prior to that was something else...We went to Botany, roamed
around in Sydney, and then anchored for a long time in Bonython.
In Bonython a sense of normalcy had crept in sneakily. We felt like we were
ashore.
We all had local sim cards and were talking to friends and family every day.
Even I used to call up my friends everyday! (Something rare because I hate
phone calls)
The other reason was because I could surf daily on my cell phone.
Multiply has a wap site, so I could visit multiply daily and check posts. I
also scrapped a lot of friends on orkut. (Apart from Multiply and Orkut I
have not joined any other social networking site).
It was a poor substitute to my normal broadband connection, but beggars
can’t be choosers, as the cliché goes.
But today was the last day for the illusion of normalcy to persist.
From tomorrow, a different normalcy will be enforced upon us, a normalcy
where we are cut off the rest of the world.
From tomorrow, our ship will be a self contained island once again.
Season’s Greetings Everyone!
It’s the most Non-denominational Greetings I can offer you for free. (I
charge for Hanukkahs and janmashtamis)
P.s. I read what I just wrote. It's the most uninspiring, insipid thing I've
written so far. All the best to my readers!
p.s. Let me crack a one last pj ...
Ye na meri hain na teri...
(Wah Wah Wah!)
Ye na meri hain na teri
(Wah Wah Wah)
Par hain sabki x-mas
Toh mat bolo Merry X-mas
Bolo Sabki X-mas
Happy X-mas
(Wah Wah Wah!)
(Wow , I've hit a new low in poor standards of writing)
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Thu, 25 Dec 2008 10:16 UTC
Message-id: 709454970S35
We were loading butane in three of our four cargo tanks to discharge it in
South Korea and Japan.
Now we have departed from Australia, never to return again (until next time)
on X-mas evening.
We are tired. Dog Dead Tired.
I haven't slept in the last 18 hrs.
This isn't something new. It happens a lot.
Welcome to my world.
There's a saying here on the ship...'On a ship, there are no Sundays ‘,
which is true, because every day is a work day no matter what and will
remain so until you sign off and go home.
A ship berthed next us went on a strike and refused to work on x-mas eve and
x-mas and the day after .We salute their foolhardy courage. (And tch tch
their short spanned careers)
But the 3 weeks prior to that was something else...We went to Botany, roamed
around in Sydney, and then anchored for a long time in Bonython.
In Bonython a sense of normalcy had crept in sneakily. We felt like we were
ashore.
We all had local sim cards and were talking to friends and family every day.
Even I used to call up my friends everyday! (Something rare because I hate
phone calls)
The other reason was because I could surf daily on my cell phone.
Multiply has a wap site, so I could visit multiply daily and check posts. I
also scrapped a lot of friends on orkut. (Apart from Multiply and Orkut I
have not joined any other social networking site).
It was a poor substitute to my normal broadband connection, but beggars
can’t be choosers, as the cliché goes.
But today was the last day for the illusion of normalcy to persist.
From tomorrow, a different normalcy will be enforced upon us, a normalcy
where we are cut off the rest of the world.
From tomorrow, our ship will be a self contained island once again.
Season’s Greetings Everyone!
It’s the most Non-denominational Greetings I can offer you for free. (I
charge for Hanukkahs and janmashtamis)
P.s. I read what I just wrote. It's the most uninspiring, insipid thing I've
written so far. All the best to my readers!
p.s. Let me crack a one last pj ...
Ye na meri hain na teri...
(Wah Wah Wah!)
Ye na meri hain na teri
(Wah Wah Wah)
Par hain sabki x-mas
Toh mat bolo Merry X-mas
Bolo Sabki X-mas
Happy X-mas
(Wah Wah Wah!)
(Wow , I've hit a new low in poor standards of writing)
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Thu, 25 Dec 2008 10:16 UTC
Message-id: 709454970S35
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Ghost Stories
She told me stories that kept me begging for more.
Scary stories with ghostly sirens dressed in white, who walked in the dead
of the night, luring unsuspecting men to certain doom.
These sirens' footprints appeared in reverse, confirming their origins from
the perverse netherworlds.
I don't know what I fell in love with...with her or with her stories.
I asked her to marry me.
I was ten.
She was nineteen.
I've always gone for older women.
The age difference didn't really matter, as long as she kept those ghost
stories coming.
She refused.
I wasn't her type.
I placed forth an irresistible deal, an offer so enticing that no woman in
her right mind could refuse.
I'd give her my favorite cap if she agreed to the marriage. It was the one
with the blue superman logo on it that I had won in the local fair a few
days ago.
She laughed, but then realized my seriousness by the manner in which I
presented my offer.
She took the cap and said that she'd have to think about it.
I gave her a week, no more.
Otherwise I'd take my cap back.
I was serious about this too.
In that week, she told me many more stories -scarier ones, ones with bigger
monsters and grislier endings.
I think she liked me.
It was the happiest week of my life.
Also it was the week where I was scared shitless.
I fell deeper in love.
She returned to her home at the end of the week.
Years later I met her again.
Only this time I was nineteen, she was not.
Married and with a year old kid, but still as beautiful as before, if not
more.
Age had not diminished anything of her.
She approached and placed her year old on my lap.
I held it gingerly, not knowing when it would pee or puke on me.
(For such was the nature of one year olds)
She said she still had my cap.
And the kid played with it sometimes.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Tue, 23 Dec 2008 12:49 UTC
Message-id: 708959900S46
Scary stories with ghostly sirens dressed in white, who walked in the dead
of the night, luring unsuspecting men to certain doom.
These sirens' footprints appeared in reverse, confirming their origins from
the perverse netherworlds.
I don't know what I fell in love with...with her or with her stories.
I asked her to marry me.
I was ten.
She was nineteen.
I've always gone for older women.
The age difference didn't really matter, as long as she kept those ghost
stories coming.
She refused.
I wasn't her type.
I placed forth an irresistible deal, an offer so enticing that no woman in
her right mind could refuse.
I'd give her my favorite cap if she agreed to the marriage. It was the one
with the blue superman logo on it that I had won in the local fair a few
days ago.
She laughed, but then realized my seriousness by the manner in which I
presented my offer.
She took the cap and said that she'd have to think about it.
I gave her a week, no more.
Otherwise I'd take my cap back.
I was serious about this too.
In that week, she told me many more stories -scarier ones, ones with bigger
monsters and grislier endings.
I think she liked me.
It was the happiest week of my life.
Also it was the week where I was scared shitless.
I fell deeper in love.
She returned to her home at the end of the week.
Years later I met her again.
Only this time I was nineteen, she was not.
Married and with a year old kid, but still as beautiful as before, if not
more.
Age had not diminished anything of her.
She approached and placed her year old on my lap.
I held it gingerly, not knowing when it would pee or puke on me.
(For such was the nature of one year olds)
She said she still had my cap.
And the kid played with it sometimes.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Tue, 23 Dec 2008 12:49 UTC
Message-id: 708959900S46
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Kabayan Paso
Bims had very clear cut instructions.
'If somebody greets you with kabayan paso, you reply with a paso, nothing
else...no too much blah blah blah...or may be ...maybe they find out'
'Ok Bims', I said , obeying my new guide and secretly getting excited at the
same time.
Maybe in future I could be an undercover agent !
Rao !
Vikas Rao !
Neither Shaken, nor stirred...I'll have extra olives though ! And could you
pass on the 'License to Kill' please !
Dishkaawww !
Loneliness is a hunger.
Loneliness is a hunger that refuses to be fed.
The irony is evident.
Even as I crave human contact,
I am demanding and withdrawn
leading to a spiral of isolation...
And unbelongingness keeps me stuck in it.
Unbelongingness and loneliness are good bedfellows, for one shadows the
other...No...Loneliness and Unbelongingness are more of soul mates, for each
feeds and augments the other.
But unbelongingness has a paradoxical dichotomy within itself.
It is because someone like me does not belong anywhere that I can just as
easily fit in everywhere.
Although I've been mistaken for a foreigner in India, in cities like
Bangalore or in my hometown of Mangalore where people mistake me for an out
-of-towner, I've also been mistaken for being a local dude just about
everywhere else including Indonesia,Malyasia,Thailand,South
Africa,Canada,Argentina,Australia.
By Russell Peters' definition I'm a Beige Baby and that certainly helps.
By the virtue of unbelongingness, thus a person can belong anywhere!
Bims told me that the locals would not fleece me because I looked like I was
100% genuine pinoy!
Now, I just had to act pinoy enough!
I told him,' C'mon, I can be a Filipino very easily!'
'For starters ...I like karaoke !'
'Hey, I too can belt out classics, like Desperado, Annie's Song, Leaving on
a Jet Plane, Can't cry hard enough etcetera etcetera...'
'Hell! I can easily fool the locals'
'I'll just whip out my version of Hotel California for them!'
Cool!
Rao!
Vikas Rao!
International man of mystery and intrigue, an intrepid adventurer and a
consummate seducer of women, now! With a License to Thrill!
Dishkaaww !
Hey, once in Korea, the locals called us Americans.
Maybe it was because we were a bit too loud.
(And a wee bit drunk, or it might be the other way around, I'm not sure now)
But here in batangas there was a problem.
While Bims and I could pass off as Filipinos, the chief engineer's bright
red turban was sticking out like a sore thumb and there was no way in hell
we could convince the locals otherwise.
But the chief engineer had come prepared. He said we needn't worry.
He told us the colorful history of Sikhs in Philippines, and how some of
the more enterprising Sikhs made a living in this country as loan
sharks..Ahem... "Money Lenders"
These "Money Lenders" were known to the locals as 5-6 because of the strange
chronological rituals they maintained while lending money. But they were
honest loan sharks...ahem Money Lenders.
The locals also called Sikhs 'Satellites'(because of the strange dish
antennas they sported on their heads, oops ... I mean turbans!)
Early in the morning, we went to the market and got a good look at the
general hustle and bustle and the brisk business of street vendors.
But what interested me was something entirely different.
'Bims! These girls are beautiful! , I don't know why you like Indian Girls
so much...these here are gorgeous !' I exclaimed.
'Maybe...longtime on ship ...so you find every girl beautiful', Bims
replied.
Could be true you know.
You know how thirsty a man gets in the desert don't you?
A shippy friend of mine had once given me some sage advice.
He said,' Don't ...I repeat; don't meet girls for at least two weeks once
you have come home.
The mind ...will be weak and you will fall in love with the first girl you
meet...and you will end up marrying her...and believe me, you don't want to
do that...there are so many fish in the sea , and you don't want to end up
with a chum bucket !'
A true sailor at heart, he's always got a fishy metaphor or euphemism at
hand!
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it.
Advice is a form of nostalgia and dispensing it is a way of fishing the past
from the disposal, wiping it off ,painting over the ugly parts and recycling
it for more than it's worth.
-'Everybody's Free (to wear Sunscreen)
My friend, the one with the sage advice, had after nine long months at sea
come home, fallen in love and married the girl he had never met before in
his life -all within three months.
People told him he was crazy and acting too fast.
He disagreed.
It was true love, he said.
But now he agrees with those people and is considering the temporary
insanity plea!
Bims, Chief Engineer and I then went to worship the Gods of Mall-land.
We had some retail therapy in mind.
Consumerism is supposed to keep the economy buoyant, so what the heck? , we
thought and went to the nearest SM mall to spend some money and keep the
global economy buoyant for a while.
Every time I go to a mall, I always have a specific goal.
This time it was to buy underwear.
I believe that everyone must wear great underwear, sexy underwear or at
least something that would not gross out people when you are in your undies.
Unfortunately, due to a laundering accident, most of my jockey briefs had
come to resemble adult diapers in form, consistency and shape.
Keeping in spirit with my Underwear policy, my quest in this mall was for
sexy underwear. (For men)
Everywhere I went, I spoke exclusively in English, and though the
salespeople would initially respond in English, they would eventually slip
into Tagalog.
Their provincial rat-tat-tat-rapid fire Tagalog.
Now, I've always asked Bims to teach me tagalog.And it has always roused his
worst suspicions.
'WHY? Why You want to learn ? 'Bims would ask...
My reply would always be 'There's this chick...you see... that I want to
impress ...She's the coolest chick ever, and the best part is that she...'
'No! ...Your English is good enough' Bims would say before lapsing into a
catatonic silence.
So, as a result, I didn't understand much of what the salespeople said when
they switched over to rat-tat-tat rapid fire Tagalog.
It was all gibberish. Like chinese.Like japanese.Like korean.Like...you get
the picture
'No! No! Only English! No Tagalog!'
Crap! I must have come across as a snooty Filipino who insisted that they
only spoke in English with me!
Finally, I had landed at one spot in the mall where they sold men's
underwear.
'Sirrr...May I help you Sirrr...' She purred from behind.
The atmosphere was electrically charged, and the hair stood on the back of
my neck...
I had goose bumps!
It was love at first Hear...
I turned around, and it was love at first sight!
A compact powerhouse of a filipina, short, no more than 5 feet tall, needle
straight hair parted evenly and falling gracefully onto the shoulders,
complimenting that heart shaped face with those large almond eyes and soft
kissable lips and that oh-so-cute button like nose.
'Say that again, babe! Say that again!' I said.
I'm a very aural person.(No I haven't tried phone sex.Not yet.The holes are
too small. a Ha.).I have a strong auditory representational system.
I'm a connoisseur of beautiful pitch perfect voices...And I had found the
perfect specimen...
How could I not fall in love ?
How could I ?
I have always found the Filipino English the sexiest south east Asian
english.It has so many flavours,so many sonorous plosives,and such rich
timbre!
It sounds so exotic...so much like Spanish !
But initially understanding it was a bit difficult.
But it had that 'Banderas Effect' on me.
First let me explain the Banderas Effect.
When Antonio Banderas first burst into Hollywood, women suddenly discovered
the Banderas effect.
The effect always elicited the following response from scores of love struck
women
'I don't know what he just said, but he sounds so damn sexy !'
And so I said' Say that again ,babe ! Say that again !' with puppy dog eyes.
A bit confused, she repeated,'Sirrrr...?'
'May I help you Sirrrrr....?' she purred deeply , spurred by my amorous
response.
'Bims ! ', I whispered hoarsely, 'Can you talk to this girl, ask her if she
wants to go out with me ?'
'No ! , Maybe ...maybe...Her parents come with sticks, maybe they kill you'
Bims said apprehensively/laconically.
I've found that whenever Bims uses the word 'Maybe', he is very sure.
So it made it difficult more difficult that I had to buy underwear from her.
Incidentally , the tag line of the brand helped me buy my sexy underwear!
The tagline said' Sexier than Nude', and the poster boy was a handsome male
model with puffed pecs,bulging bi's and rippled abs.
Hey , I wanna look like that !(But not so gay)
So I bought 'x' underwear, for it was the only men's underwear that promised
to be 'Sexier than Nude'.
I have always thought that men have never looked sexy when totally nude.
The flaccid penis (or the limp dick) is perhaps the most pathetic thing
anyone has seen apart from a soggy noodle or(insert your own version of the
most pathetic thing)
You may not share my view, but I've stood for hours in front of the mirror,
naked and flexing,jiggling,jumping and doing all other things that would put
me away in the loony bin forever.
And I've never found myself remotely sexy...I look...well ...kinda funny
...and pathetic.
But excited by the prospect of looking sexier than nude, I bought 3 pairs in
Superman Blue,Banana Black and Ash Grey from my love, Gretchen...yes, that
was her name.
But taking heed of Bims' warnings of dire consequences involving sticks and
certain death , I bade a heavy hearted farewell to my love, to Gretchen.
But she didn't seem to notice that I was leaving.
She had to deal with another guy with big puppy dog eyes.
In retrospect , now I can tell you that you should never look for sexiness
in men's underwear.
Although I ended up buying the right size , my sexy underwear ended up being
too tight. So tight that it felt like my balls were in a bear hug ...All the
frickin' time.
Now I know how a Chippendale's dancer feels like.
The constant pressure ...it feels like someone is steadily squeezing. And
that's not a pleasant feeling...there is no wiggle room, no room for
expansion, it does not accommodate for sudden mood changes, or night time
woodies.
In the end , I had to revert back to my old and faithful jockeys.
After all they were the next best thing to being naked !
In the end, as we returned, I noticed that none of the locals had detected
me as an imposter.
So I wanted to see how far I could go with my subterfuge.
At the entrance at the jetty , at the security checkpoint , I greeted the
guard.
'Kabayan Paso !'
'Paso' he replied absently, as he went through my passport.
Then he realized .
He stopped.
He rechecked the passport thoroughly.
He let slip a wide toothy grin as he let me in.
He was shaking his head, talking in rat-tat-tat rapid fire Tagalog with his
partners. God only knows what he said.
Hey
James Bond Here I come !
p.s.BTW, what the heck does it mean ?
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 20 Dec 2008 12:49 UTC
Message-id: 708246503S342
'If somebody greets you with kabayan paso, you reply with a paso, nothing
else...no too much blah blah blah...or may be ...maybe they find out'
'Ok Bims', I said , obeying my new guide and secretly getting excited at the
same time.
Maybe in future I could be an undercover agent !
Rao !
Vikas Rao !
Neither Shaken, nor stirred...I'll have extra olives though ! And could you
pass on the 'License to Kill' please !
Dishkaawww !
Loneliness is a hunger.
Loneliness is a hunger that refuses to be fed.
The irony is evident.
Even as I crave human contact,
I am demanding and withdrawn
leading to a spiral of isolation...
And unbelongingness keeps me stuck in it.
Unbelongingness and loneliness are good bedfellows, for one shadows the
other...No...Loneliness and Unbelongingness are more of soul mates, for each
feeds and augments the other.
But unbelongingness has a paradoxical dichotomy within itself.
It is because someone like me does not belong anywhere that I can just as
easily fit in everywhere.
Although I've been mistaken for a foreigner in India, in cities like
Bangalore or in my hometown of Mangalore where people mistake me for an out
-of-towner, I've also been mistaken for being a local dude just about
everywhere else including Indonesia,Malyasia,Thailand,South
Africa,Canada,Argentina,Australia.
By Russell Peters' definition I'm a Beige Baby and that certainly helps.
By the virtue of unbelongingness, thus a person can belong anywhere!
Bims told me that the locals would not fleece me because I looked like I was
100% genuine pinoy!
Now, I just had to act pinoy enough!
I told him,' C'mon, I can be a Filipino very easily!'
'For starters ...I like karaoke !'
'Hey, I too can belt out classics, like Desperado, Annie's Song, Leaving on
a Jet Plane, Can't cry hard enough etcetera etcetera...'
'Hell! I can easily fool the locals'
'I'll just whip out my version of Hotel California for them!'
Cool!
Rao!
Vikas Rao!
International man of mystery and intrigue, an intrepid adventurer and a
consummate seducer of women, now! With a License to Thrill!
Dishkaaww !
Hey, once in Korea, the locals called us Americans.
Maybe it was because we were a bit too loud.
(And a wee bit drunk, or it might be the other way around, I'm not sure now)
But here in batangas there was a problem.
While Bims and I could pass off as Filipinos, the chief engineer's bright
red turban was sticking out like a sore thumb and there was no way in hell
we could convince the locals otherwise.
But the chief engineer had come prepared. He said we needn't worry.
He told us the colorful history of Sikhs in Philippines, and how some of
the more enterprising Sikhs made a living in this country as loan
sharks..Ahem... "Money Lenders"
These "Money Lenders" were known to the locals as 5-6 because of the strange
chronological rituals they maintained while lending money. But they were
honest loan sharks...ahem Money Lenders.
The locals also called Sikhs 'Satellites'(because of the strange dish
antennas they sported on their heads, oops ... I mean turbans!)
Early in the morning, we went to the market and got a good look at the
general hustle and bustle and the brisk business of street vendors.
But what interested me was something entirely different.
'Bims! These girls are beautiful! , I don't know why you like Indian Girls
so much...these here are gorgeous !' I exclaimed.
'Maybe...longtime on ship ...so you find every girl beautiful', Bims
replied.
Could be true you know.
You know how thirsty a man gets in the desert don't you?
A shippy friend of mine had once given me some sage advice.
He said,' Don't ...I repeat; don't meet girls for at least two weeks once
you have come home.
The mind ...will be weak and you will fall in love with the first girl you
meet...and you will end up marrying her...and believe me, you don't want to
do that...there are so many fish in the sea , and you don't want to end up
with a chum bucket !'
A true sailor at heart, he's always got a fishy metaphor or euphemism at
hand!
Be careful whose advice you buy, but be patient with those who supply it.
Advice is a form of nostalgia and dispensing it is a way of fishing the past
from the disposal, wiping it off ,painting over the ugly parts and recycling
it for more than it's worth.
-'Everybody's Free (to wear Sunscreen)
My friend, the one with the sage advice, had after nine long months at sea
come home, fallen in love and married the girl he had never met before in
his life -all within three months.
People told him he was crazy and acting too fast.
He disagreed.
It was true love, he said.
But now he agrees with those people and is considering the temporary
insanity plea!
Bims, Chief Engineer and I then went to worship the Gods of Mall-land.
We had some retail therapy in mind.
Consumerism is supposed to keep the economy buoyant, so what the heck? , we
thought and went to the nearest SM mall to spend some money and keep the
global economy buoyant for a while.
Every time I go to a mall, I always have a specific goal.
This time it was to buy underwear.
I believe that everyone must wear great underwear, sexy underwear or at
least something that would not gross out people when you are in your undies.
Unfortunately, due to a laundering accident, most of my jockey briefs had
come to resemble adult diapers in form, consistency and shape.
Keeping in spirit with my Underwear policy, my quest in this mall was for
sexy underwear. (For men)
Everywhere I went, I spoke exclusively in English, and though the
salespeople would initially respond in English, they would eventually slip
into Tagalog.
Their provincial rat-tat-tat-rapid fire Tagalog.
Now, I've always asked Bims to teach me tagalog.And it has always roused his
worst suspicions.
'WHY? Why You want to learn ? 'Bims would ask...
My reply would always be 'There's this chick...you see... that I want to
impress ...She's the coolest chick ever, and the best part is that she...'
'No! ...Your English is good enough' Bims would say before lapsing into a
catatonic silence.
So, as a result, I didn't understand much of what the salespeople said when
they switched over to rat-tat-tat rapid fire Tagalog.
It was all gibberish. Like chinese.Like japanese.Like korean.Like...you get
the picture
'No! No! Only English! No Tagalog!'
Crap! I must have come across as a snooty Filipino who insisted that they
only spoke in English with me!
Finally, I had landed at one spot in the mall where they sold men's
underwear.
'Sirrr...May I help you Sirrr...' She purred from behind.
The atmosphere was electrically charged, and the hair stood on the back of
my neck...
I had goose bumps!
It was love at first Hear...
I turned around, and it was love at first sight!
A compact powerhouse of a filipina, short, no more than 5 feet tall, needle
straight hair parted evenly and falling gracefully onto the shoulders,
complimenting that heart shaped face with those large almond eyes and soft
kissable lips and that oh-so-cute button like nose.
'Say that again, babe! Say that again!' I said.
I'm a very aural person.(No I haven't tried phone sex.Not yet.The holes are
too small. a Ha.).I have a strong auditory representational system.
I'm a connoisseur of beautiful pitch perfect voices...And I had found the
perfect specimen...
How could I not fall in love ?
How could I ?
I have always found the Filipino English the sexiest south east Asian
english.It has so many flavours,so many sonorous plosives,and such rich
timbre!
It sounds so exotic...so much like Spanish !
But initially understanding it was a bit difficult.
But it had that 'Banderas Effect' on me.
First let me explain the Banderas Effect.
When Antonio Banderas first burst into Hollywood, women suddenly discovered
the Banderas effect.
The effect always elicited the following response from scores of love struck
women
'I don't know what he just said, but he sounds so damn sexy !'
And so I said' Say that again ,babe ! Say that again !' with puppy dog eyes.
A bit confused, she repeated,'Sirrrr...?'
'May I help you Sirrrrr....?' she purred deeply , spurred by my amorous
response.
'Bims ! ', I whispered hoarsely, 'Can you talk to this girl, ask her if she
wants to go out with me ?'
'No ! , Maybe ...maybe...Her parents come with sticks, maybe they kill you'
Bims said apprehensively/laconically.
I've found that whenever Bims uses the word 'Maybe', he is very sure.
So it made it difficult more difficult that I had to buy underwear from her.
Incidentally , the tag line of the brand helped me buy my sexy underwear!
The tagline said' Sexier than Nude', and the poster boy was a handsome male
model with puffed pecs,bulging bi's and rippled abs.
Hey , I wanna look like that !(But not so gay)
So I bought 'x' underwear, for it was the only men's underwear that promised
to be 'Sexier than Nude'.
I have always thought that men have never looked sexy when totally nude.
The flaccid penis (or the limp dick) is perhaps the most pathetic thing
anyone has seen apart from a soggy noodle or(insert your own version of the
most pathetic thing)
You may not share my view, but I've stood for hours in front of the mirror,
naked and flexing,jiggling,jumping and doing all other things that would put
me away in the loony bin forever.
And I've never found myself remotely sexy...I look...well ...kinda funny
...and pathetic.
But excited by the prospect of looking sexier than nude, I bought 3 pairs in
Superman Blue,Banana Black and Ash Grey from my love, Gretchen...yes, that
was her name.
But taking heed of Bims' warnings of dire consequences involving sticks and
certain death , I bade a heavy hearted farewell to my love, to Gretchen.
But she didn't seem to notice that I was leaving.
She had to deal with another guy with big puppy dog eyes.
In retrospect , now I can tell you that you should never look for sexiness
in men's underwear.
Although I ended up buying the right size , my sexy underwear ended up being
too tight. So tight that it felt like my balls were in a bear hug ...All the
frickin' time.
Now I know how a Chippendale's dancer feels like.
The constant pressure ...it feels like someone is steadily squeezing. And
that's not a pleasant feeling...there is no wiggle room, no room for
expansion, it does not accommodate for sudden mood changes, or night time
woodies.
In the end , I had to revert back to my old and faithful jockeys.
After all they were the next best thing to being naked !
In the end, as we returned, I noticed that none of the locals had detected
me as an imposter.
So I wanted to see how far I could go with my subterfuge.
At the entrance at the jetty , at the security checkpoint , I greeted the
guard.
'Kabayan Paso !'
'Paso' he replied absently, as he went through my passport.
Then he realized .
He stopped.
He rechecked the passport thoroughly.
He let slip a wide toothy grin as he let me in.
He was shaking his head, talking in rat-tat-tat rapid fire Tagalog with his
partners. God only knows what he said.
Hey
James Bond Here I come !
p.s.BTW, what the heck does it mean ?
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 20 Dec 2008 12:49 UTC
Message-id: 708246503S342
Friday, December 19, 2008
Letters to God
Real Kids' Letters to God
Dear God,
Did You really mean "do unto others as they do unto you?"
Because if you did, then I'm going to punch my brother.
- Love, Cindy
Dear God,
I read the Bible. What does "begat" mean?
I don't know and nobody will tell me.
- Love, Allison
Dear God,
I went to this wedding and they kissed right in church.
Is that okay?
- Your Friend, Nigel
Dear God,
I would like to live 900 years like that guy in the Bible.
- Your Friend, John
Dear God,
Please send me a pony. I never asked for anything before, you
can look it up.
- Ben
Dear God,
We read that Thomas Edison made light. But in Sunday school they
said you did it. I bet he stole your idea.
- Love, Angie
Dear God,
Instead of letting people die and having to make new ones, why
don't you just keep the ones you have now?
- Jamie
Dear God,
Did you mean for giraffes to look like that or was it an
accident?
- Deena
Dear God,
Maybe Cain and Abel would not kill each other so much if they
had their own rooms. It works with my brother.
- Evan
Dear God,
Thank you for the baby brother, but what I prayed for was a
puppy.
- Love, Susan
Dear God,
I didn't think purple went with orange until I saw the sunset
you made on Tuesday.
- Allyson
Dear God,
Is it true my father won't get in Heaven if he uses his fishing
words in the house?
- Kenny
Dear God,
Are you really invisible or is that a trick?
- Dylan
Dear God,
My brother told me about being born but it doesn't sound right.
They're just kidding, aren't they?
-Kristen
Dear God,
If you watch me in church Sunday, I'll show you my new suit.
- Mike
Dear God,
I bet it is very hard for you to love all of everybody in the
whole world all the time. There are only 6 people in my house
and I can't do it.
- Nancy
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Fri, 19 Dec 2008 10:58 UTC
Message-id: 707989420S221
Dear God,
Did You really mean "do unto others as they do unto you?"
Because if you did, then I'm going to punch my brother.
- Love, Cindy
Dear God,
I read the Bible. What does "begat" mean?
I don't know and nobody will tell me.
- Love, Allison
Dear God,
I went to this wedding and they kissed right in church.
Is that okay?
- Your Friend, Nigel
Dear God,
I would like to live 900 years like that guy in the Bible.
- Your Friend, John
Dear God,
Please send me a pony. I never asked for anything before, you
can look it up.
- Ben
Dear God,
We read that Thomas Edison made light. But in Sunday school they
said you did it. I bet he stole your idea.
- Love, Angie
Dear God,
Instead of letting people die and having to make new ones, why
don't you just keep the ones you have now?
- Jamie
Dear God,
Did you mean for giraffes to look like that or was it an
accident?
- Deena
Dear God,
Maybe Cain and Abel would not kill each other so much if they
had their own rooms. It works with my brother.
- Evan
Dear God,
Thank you for the baby brother, but what I prayed for was a
puppy.
- Love, Susan
Dear God,
I didn't think purple went with orange until I saw the sunset
you made on Tuesday.
- Allyson
Dear God,
Is it true my father won't get in Heaven if he uses his fishing
words in the house?
- Kenny
Dear God,
Are you really invisible or is that a trick?
- Dylan
Dear God,
My brother told me about being born but it doesn't sound right.
They're just kidding, aren't they?
-Kristen
Dear God,
If you watch me in church Sunday, I'll show you my new suit.
- Mike
Dear God,
I bet it is very hard for you to love all of everybody in the
whole world all the time. There are only 6 people in my house
and I can't do it.
- Nancy
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Fri, 19 Dec 2008 10:58 UTC
Message-id: 707989420S221
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Dreams and Predictions
(I wish I told )
I hope all my grand predictions come true.
I
really
do.
In being a good mirror , I've reflected onto you what you always wanted deep
within yourself. Call it a latent ability , but I have an uncanny ability
for being accurate about other people's dreams, maybe because I lack
any
of
my
own.
Here's the truth; your dreams may all come true or may remain unfulfilled ,
but only
time
will
tell.
The future does not exist yet .It is created by minute perturbations in the
fabric of the present, with causalities that go beyond your sole actions.
I hate to lie , to deceive , but can't help doing it when I see you enjoying
these
false constructs so happily.
I'm sorry ,
but I'm feeding you
your own lies.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 14 Dec 2008 23:04 UTC
Message-id: 706693261S348
I hope all my grand predictions come true.
I
really
do.
In being a good mirror , I've reflected onto you what you always wanted deep
within yourself. Call it a latent ability , but I have an uncanny ability
for being accurate about other people's dreams, maybe because I lack
any
of
my
own.
Here's the truth; your dreams may all come true or may remain unfulfilled ,
but only
time
will
tell.
The future does not exist yet .It is created by minute perturbations in the
fabric of the present, with causalities that go beyond your sole actions.
I hate to lie , to deceive , but can't help doing it when I see you enjoying
these
false constructs so happily.
I'm sorry ,
but I'm feeding you
your own lies.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 14 Dec 2008 23:04 UTC
Message-id: 706693261S348
Repulsion /Closeted Secrets
Repulsion:
I. once . hated. myself. deeply .so. deeply .that . now . I .grudgingly
.admit .it. as. I. haltingly. type. this. sentence.
What. I. hated .about. myself . I'm. no .longer .sure .now . but .I. worked
.SO. hard .on .myself .erasing. my. past . recreating. myself. that. now .I
.NO .longer. recognize .myself .in .the .mirror.
Closeted Secrets:
I'm finally coming out of the closet.
Yes, I'm an atheist.
(Sorry mom.
Well, at least I'm not an art student or gay
or both!)
(Not that it's bad to be both)
But
With no god , who do I turn to for answers ?
Will I find them buried deep within me ?
Where do I start digging ?
?
?
?
!
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 14 Dec 2008 11:30 UTC
Message-id: 706611830S339
I. once . hated. myself. deeply .so. deeply .that . now . I .grudgingly
.admit .it. as. I. haltingly. type. this. sentence.
What. I. hated .about. myself . I'm. no .longer .sure .now . but .I. worked
.SO. hard .on .myself .erasing. my. past . recreating. myself. that. now .I
.NO .longer. recognize .myself .in .the .mirror.
Closeted Secrets:
I'm finally coming out of the closet.
Yes, I'm an atheist.
(Sorry mom.
Well, at least I'm not an art student or gay
or both!)
(Not that it's bad to be both)
But
With no god , who do I turn to for answers ?
Will I find them buried deep within me ?
Where do I start digging ?
?
?
?
!
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 14 Dec 2008 11:30 UTC
Message-id: 706611830S339
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Coffee,tea or...?
'Toh , Tum Coffee ,tea vagairah peete nahin ho ?'
'Coffee se neend khul jaati hai...It wakes me up'
'That's what it supposed to do, my friend...Jolt you into wakefulness, clear
the cobwebs of your mind, clarify thought and action,et cetera et cetera'
'Neend khul jaayegi...Bas isi baat ka toh darr hai ki kahin neend khul
jayegi..Aur main jag utoonga...'
'Yeh duniya sab maaya hain...That's what they say...Nothing in this world is
real, it's all maaya, an illusion ,a mass hallucination , a shared psychotic
reality.'
'Kya pata, coffee might wake me up and force me to face reality...Sometimes
Illusions are more useful than stark naked reality'
'Dost ! Ek baat kahoon, agar tu bura nahin manega toh ?'
'Sure'
'Duniya badalnekeliye apna nazariya badlo'
'Aur Jaago Mohan Pyaare!'
A few days later...
'Arre ! Tu toh keh raha tha ki coffee peeta nahin hain , aur poora zindagi
sotey bitana chahate hain !, Ab kya hua maharaj ?...haath main coffee kyun
hain ?'
'I've just realized...Coffee is not enough.'
(Sorry ,No translations)
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 13 Dec 2008 23:30 UTC
Message-id: 706523164S383
'Coffee se neend khul jaati hai...It wakes me up'
'That's what it supposed to do, my friend...Jolt you into wakefulness, clear
the cobwebs of your mind, clarify thought and action,et cetera et cetera'
'Neend khul jaayegi...Bas isi baat ka toh darr hai ki kahin neend khul
jayegi..Aur main jag utoonga...'
'Yeh duniya sab maaya hain...That's what they say...Nothing in this world is
real, it's all maaya, an illusion ,a mass hallucination , a shared psychotic
reality.'
'Kya pata, coffee might wake me up and force me to face reality...Sometimes
Illusions are more useful than stark naked reality'
'Dost ! Ek baat kahoon, agar tu bura nahin manega toh ?'
'Sure'
'Duniya badalnekeliye apna nazariya badlo'
'Aur Jaago Mohan Pyaare!'
A few days later...
'Arre ! Tu toh keh raha tha ki coffee peeta nahin hain , aur poora zindagi
sotey bitana chahate hain !, Ab kya hua maharaj ?...haath main coffee kyun
hain ?'
'I've just realized...Coffee is not enough.'
(Sorry ,No translations)
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 13 Dec 2008 23:30 UTC
Message-id: 706523164S383
Friday, December 12, 2008
Travesty of Justice in South Korea :Hebei Spirit
INDIAN SEAFARERS FEDERATION (ISF)
National Union of Seafarers of India,
The Maritime Union of India
NUSI Bhavan, 4, Goa Street,
Udyog Bhavan, 4th Floor,
Ballard Estate,
29 Walchand Hirachand Marg,
Mumbai- 400 001.
Ballard Estate, Mumbai- 400001
Tel: 22618368 / 9,
Tel. No. 22613052 / 2261507
Email: nusi@vsnl.com
Email: oceanite@vsnl.com
11th December, 2008
Dear Sir
Sub: Unjust Judgement on "Hebei Spirit" issue Shipping fraternity terms it
"outrageous"
The ship "Hebei Spirit" was at safe parking (anchorage) in South Korea. It
was collided by a tug-towed crane barge owned by Samsung Heavy Industries
resulting in an oil spill. Capt. Jasprit Chawla and Chief Officer Syam
Chetan were detained since December, 2007 in South Korea despite being
proved innocent on 23rd June, 2008 by the Court. The matter went into
appeal. Mr. Roberto Giorgi, President, V. Ships, Technical Managers of the
Hebei Spirit, commented "on the possibility of Samsung and Korean
authorities 'colluding' for the retrial to overturn the initial "innocent"
verdict for both Master and Chief Officer, brought down on June, 23, by
another Korean judge". This is exactly what had happened.
Justice was denied when the judgement, which was delivered on December 10th
2008, found Capt. Jasprit Chawla and Chief Officer Syam Chetan guilty and
sentenced them for 18 months and 8 months respectively. The two Indian
seafarers were handcuffed and paraded in blatant disregards to human rights.
This is yet another example of criminilisation of seafarers.
In the meeting held between the stakeholders of shipping fraternity i..e.
National Union of Seafarers of India (NUSI), the Maritime Union of India
(MUI) Foreign Owners Representatives and Shipmanagers Association (FOSMA)
Maritime Association of Shipowners, Shipmanagers and Agents (MASSA) and the
Indian National Shipowners Association (INSA) the following was decided.
1. Appeal to more than two hundred thousand seafarers, their family
members, and other proud Indians to boycott Korean products especially
Samsung.
2. Appeal to Indian shipowners to review the orders placed for new
ships presently being build in Korean shipyards which runs into billions of
dollars.
3. Appeal to shipowners to stop operating ships, particularly tankers,
to Korea.
4. Appeal to seafarers worldwide to seriously reconsider before
entering Korean waters and ports as they might meet the same fate as
seafarers of "Hebei Spirit". Such a boycott by seafarers will have severe
consequences on the Korean economy.
5. We have also approached Mr. Abhinav Bindra and Mr. Aamir Khan who
are brand ambassadors of Samsung products to support the cause of Capt.
Jasprit Chawla and Chief Office Syam Chetan.
6. Seafarers are apprehensive to go to Korean waters after the
judgement, in the same way, as they are apprehensive to go to the waters of
Somalia.
p.s.
I agree that oil pollution is very damaging to the ecology and economy .But
here , the Master was not at fault(despite what media might say)
The Master of Hebei Spirit had done everything that was humanly possible.
His efforts were lauded by the international seafaring community. The
Master of was even awarded the 'Mariner of the Year ' award this year.
I hope it will come handy to him in prison.
It is readily apparent that these seafarers were innocent scapegoats here.
This is a sad day for shipping.
And a very demoralizing piece of news for the rest of the seafaring
community.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 13 Dec 2008 00:03 UTC
Message-id: 706336576S348
National Union of Seafarers of India,
The Maritime Union of India
NUSI Bhavan, 4, Goa Street,
Udyog Bhavan, 4th Floor,
Ballard Estate,
29 Walchand Hirachand Marg,
Mumbai- 400 001.
Ballard Estate, Mumbai- 400001
Tel: 22618368 / 9,
Tel. No. 22613052 / 2261507
Email: nusi@vsnl.com
Email: oceanite@vsnl.com
11th December, 2008
Dear Sir
Sub: Unjust Judgement on "Hebei Spirit" issue Shipping fraternity terms it
"outrageous"
The ship "Hebei Spirit" was at safe parking (anchorage) in South Korea. It
was collided by a tug-towed crane barge owned by Samsung Heavy Industries
resulting in an oil spill. Capt. Jasprit Chawla and Chief Officer Syam
Chetan were detained since December, 2007 in South Korea despite being
proved innocent on 23rd June, 2008 by the Court. The matter went into
appeal. Mr. Roberto Giorgi, President, V. Ships, Technical Managers of the
Hebei Spirit, commented "on the possibility of Samsung and Korean
authorities 'colluding' for the retrial to overturn the initial "innocent"
verdict for both Master and Chief Officer, brought down on June, 23, by
another Korean judge". This is exactly what had happened.
Justice was denied when the judgement, which was delivered on December 10th
2008, found Capt. Jasprit Chawla and Chief Officer Syam Chetan guilty and
sentenced them for 18 months and 8 months respectively. The two Indian
seafarers were handcuffed and paraded in blatant disregards to human rights.
This is yet another example of criminilisation of seafarers.
In the meeting held between the stakeholders of shipping fraternity i..e.
National Union of Seafarers of India (NUSI), the Maritime Union of India
(MUI) Foreign Owners Representatives and Shipmanagers Association (FOSMA)
Maritime Association of Shipowners, Shipmanagers and Agents (MASSA) and the
Indian National Shipowners Association (INSA) the following was decided.
1. Appeal to more than two hundred thousand seafarers, their family
members, and other proud Indians to boycott Korean products especially
Samsung.
2. Appeal to Indian shipowners to review the orders placed for new
ships presently being build in Korean shipyards which runs into billions of
dollars.
3. Appeal to shipowners to stop operating ships, particularly tankers,
to Korea.
4. Appeal to seafarers worldwide to seriously reconsider before
entering Korean waters and ports as they might meet the same fate as
seafarers of "Hebei Spirit". Such a boycott by seafarers will have severe
consequences on the Korean economy.
5. We have also approached Mr. Abhinav Bindra and Mr. Aamir Khan who
are brand ambassadors of Samsung products to support the cause of Capt.
Jasprit Chawla and Chief Office Syam Chetan.
6. Seafarers are apprehensive to go to Korean waters after the
judgement, in the same way, as they are apprehensive to go to the waters of
Somalia.
p.s.
I agree that oil pollution is very damaging to the ecology and economy .But
here , the Master was not at fault(despite what media might say)
The Master of Hebei Spirit had done everything that was humanly possible.
His efforts were lauded by the international seafaring community. The
Master of was even awarded the 'Mariner of the Year ' award this year.
I hope it will come handy to him in prison.
It is readily apparent that these seafarers were innocent scapegoats here.
This is a sad day for shipping.
And a very demoralizing piece of news for the rest of the seafaring
community.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 13 Dec 2008 00:03 UTC
Message-id: 706336576S348
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Women, to find your perfect man, you must...(read further)
Young woman, if you would marry a hero, impersonate beauty.
Maiden lady of quite impossible age, if you would marry the best man in the
world, impersonate youth and beauty.
Dear languishing widow, if you would marry a real man, impersonate youth,
beauty and wealth. You will win.
Men follow actresses around the world because they impersonate love,
passion, beauty, virtue and nobleness. The men really think actresses must
possess what they portray. You see, it is all a matter of thinking. It does
not matter how many times a man has lost on the races, if he is a good sport
he will bet on the next horse that looks good to him. Women need to
impersonate looking good, better, best. Not on occasions only, but all the
time.
Men like women who are good pals. So ladies impersonate sympathy, kindness,
patience, good fellowship, enthusiasm, in the things that interest men.
If you belong to the Citrus family, impersonate the Peach.
If you belong to the Nettle family, impersonate the Violet.
You may be so homely that your face pains you, but think of the
impersonations of beauty you can buy at the drug store.
Impersonate silence. A young lady in Philadelphia lost her voice and she had
nineteen proposals that year.
Impersonate form. You may be as angular as the streets in Boston, yet almost
any department store will shape you up. You may be so fat that you haven't
seen your feet in years, still you can impersonate so much good nature that
men will be attracted to you as flowers to the sun.
And remember, Satan did not bring the temptation to Eve instead of Adam,
because woman was a weaker, and man a superior being. He brought the
temptation to Eve because a woman isn't afraid of the Devil. If he had
brought it to Adam, he would have been running yet.
So keep in mind that a bare statement is not necessarily the naked truth and
act accordingly.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Thu, 11 Dec 2008 13:04 UTC
Message-id: 705951145S343
Maiden lady of quite impossible age, if you would marry the best man in the
world, impersonate youth and beauty.
Dear languishing widow, if you would marry a real man, impersonate youth,
beauty and wealth. You will win.
Men follow actresses around the world because they impersonate love,
passion, beauty, virtue and nobleness. The men really think actresses must
possess what they portray. You see, it is all a matter of thinking. It does
not matter how many times a man has lost on the races, if he is a good sport
he will bet on the next horse that looks good to him. Women need to
impersonate looking good, better, best. Not on occasions only, but all the
time.
Men like women who are good pals. So ladies impersonate sympathy, kindness,
patience, good fellowship, enthusiasm, in the things that interest men.
If you belong to the Citrus family, impersonate the Peach.
If you belong to the Nettle family, impersonate the Violet.
You may be so homely that your face pains you, but think of the
impersonations of beauty you can buy at the drug store.
Impersonate silence. A young lady in Philadelphia lost her voice and she had
nineteen proposals that year.
Impersonate form. You may be as angular as the streets in Boston, yet almost
any department store will shape you up. You may be so fat that you haven't
seen your feet in years, still you can impersonate so much good nature that
men will be attracted to you as flowers to the sun.
And remember, Satan did not bring the temptation to Eve instead of Adam,
because woman was a weaker, and man a superior being. He brought the
temptation to Eve because a woman isn't afraid of the Devil. If he had
brought it to Adam, he would have been running yet.
So keep in mind that a bare statement is not necessarily the naked truth and
act accordingly.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Thu, 11 Dec 2008 13:04 UTC
Message-id: 705951145S343
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Purple Prose
'The novel is not the author's confession' ,says Author Milan Kundera in his
novel The Unbearable Lightness of Being. He adds that' it is an
investigation of human life in the trap the world has become'
Milan Kundera admits when he says, 'characters are not born like people, of
woman; they are born of a situation, a sentence, a metaphor containing in a
nutshell a basic human possibility that the author thinks no one else has
discovered or said something essential about. But isn't it true that an
author can write only about himself?'
The characters in my novels are my own unrealized possibilities. That
is why I am equally fond of them all and equally horrified by them. Each one
has crossed a border that I myself have circumvented. It is that crossed
border (the border beyond which my own I ends) which attracts me most. For
beyond that border begins the secret the novel asks about. The novel is not
the author's confession; it is an investigation of human life in the trap
the world has become'
I'm not Milan Kundera. I'm just a mediocre writer who aspires
to be an aspiring writer.
I'm in love with my purple prose.
It is overwrought, dreary and tiresome to read .I'm a flawed writer.I write
only about myself. Sometimes I try to be too smart and end up doing a shoddy
job of it.
But I love what I write. Sometimes I go over my old stuff and reminisce.
Those are happy times...
In 'Hurt'
I write,
'I spend hours and days
planning in ways
to hurt you
the way you hurt me...'
'Is this not True Love?' I ask.
Who have I addressed here?
Nobody.
Let me deconstruct the magic. It is time I show you how I pull rabbits out
of my hat...
Let us examine the empedoclean paradox (see Empedocles) given below. It is a
Japanese poem I once read somewhere that goes something like this...
'To think that I am not going to think of you anymore
is still thinking of you...
Let me then try not to think
that I'm not going to think of you'
This was the inspiration for the post titled 'Hurt' and to it I had to
incorporate raknax's cryptic aphorism which said,
'It's practically raining disappointments. Thy monsoon of talking into the
dark.
One of these days, eventually you have to give me what I want.
No?'
Its relative vagueness and sensate richness in metaphor bowled me over.
I had to steal the line and use it somewhere.
I told him I would.
So I did.
Now let's read an excerpt of 'Running Away'
It says,' I see the world too clearly. It is not filled with shades of
grey.It is I who gets to fill it with colours and I'm in no mood to paint
the town red.
'So this is me running away'
'Far away from a colourful yet drab world that has nothing to do with me or
me anything with it'
'You owe me nothing, and I owe you my sanity, my humanity, and my everything
else.
I don't deserve you, nor do you deserve the pain and misery that is mine to
give'
'I'm not playing hard to get. I'm not pushing you away'
'I'm simply pushing you to forget me
and to believe in a lie that we were never meant to be'
'It would be a lie if I told you that I don't love you. But I'm a better
liar than a lover. So good that I believe in my lies'
'I love you more than the entire world itself, but at the same time I don't
want you to love me'
'Does that make sense? No? '
'Not to me either'
Running Away was clearly inspired by two people. Author Manil
Suri, and his book 'Age of Shiva' and 'Yes I will push you away' by our very
own Ms.J.
Ms.J has written very powerfully...It had a strong visceral impact on me ,
so much so that I wondered if I could write something similar...maybe
something from a man's perspective...a commitment phobic man's perspective,
and thus "Running Away' was born.
If you have read 'You think you know me,
Where I appear angry when I say
'You think you know me?'
'So you 'vet read everything, seen everything ...and now you think you know
me !
You think you know what makes me tick ? You think you know the inner
workings , the minute gears, cogs and sprockets that run this rust bucket ?
You think you know me?
You think you have figured me out ?'
'It takes a lifetime to know someone , and even then , one is not sure ...
The mind is a terrible thing. It goes deep. Deeper than the deepest pools
you have swum in '
'It is darker than the darkest places in your heart .
It is more frightening than the most frightening nightmares that wake you
up in the night'
which was in fact inspired by Robbie Williams song 'Madonna'(strange isn't
it ?)
(Factoid: Rudebox was voted Robbie's worst album ever)
Or in one of my imaginary confessions , I write
'She seemed perfect in every way .Her imperfections didn't matter then. I
wanted her to save me , from myself, like I always told her. Always.
'The heartbreak was in itself very un dramatic...with a simple sentence ,
she nudged me from a 'Potential Mate' to 'in your dreams , Mate! '.
It was a pre-emptive strike...much before I could do anything stupid and
humiliate myself and her'
'I hopelessly return to the same subject...over and over again. It seems
I'm powerless not to...'
'No. I haven't stopped grieving, and yes I'm still healing'
'I don't love her anymore, I still respect her , but I also have lost my
ability to fall in love with anyone anymore.
I only hope that time proves me wrong'
and this was inspired from a Jagjit singh ghazal .(No , I cannot explain it
any more than that, for I don't understand the mechanics of inspiration
myself)
Why am I saying this?
Well , I realize that you are taking my posts literally and too seriously...
That is good and bad news...The good news is , my writing is effective. The
bad news is, you are making it personal.
Let me confess once again...
like I've done so many times before,
and let this be true ,
(unlike before ?)
I'm like Jack Nicholson's character Melvin Udall in the movie 'As good as it
gets' , where Jack Nicholson plays a OCD patient addled with intimacy
issues...Although never in a relationship, he makes a living writing romance
novels (which are ironically best sellers)
No. I'm not in pain. I don't need help, nor therapy...This is just something
I write, because my brain is hardwired this way.I haven't gone through a
heart break...I've never been in a relationship...
until now.
Now, I keep meeting so many wonderful girls , I feel there are too many to
choose from !
Just kidding !
I'm still a loser ...with no girlfriend .
I'm just a guy in love with his own purple prose.
(Check this out: If you look up a dictionary , you'll find that 'purple
prose' is almost an oxymoron)
I'm not worth wasting your time.
Believe Me.
I have an answer to your question...
What I want is freedom to write anything I want...and for you to be
unaffected by it.
My writings may mean the world to me...but they should be meaningless to
you.
They are in a way meaningless, if you read them carefully. They never add up
!
I'm not insulting your intelligence by writing abstruse posts...
I'm tired of saying this, but believe me.
I'm not worth wasting your time.
My favourite bit in 'Hurt ' is (and always will be)
'I've prepared
Hot words & cold shoulders,
tepid indifference,
deafening silences,
sharp stinging barbs and rebukes honed to a deadly precision,
just waiting for your next mistake'
for no particular reason.
(Ah ! If not for the email size restrictions, this post would have been much
longer)
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Wed, 10 Dec 2008 12:22 UTC
Message-id: 705663344S347
novel The Unbearable Lightness of Being. He adds that' it is an
investigation of human life in the trap the world has become'
Milan Kundera admits when he says, 'characters are not born like people, of
woman; they are born of a situation, a sentence, a metaphor containing in a
nutshell a basic human possibility that the author thinks no one else has
discovered or said something essential about. But isn't it true that an
author can write only about himself?'
The characters in my novels are my own unrealized possibilities. That
is why I am equally fond of them all and equally horrified by them. Each one
has crossed a border that I myself have circumvented. It is that crossed
border (the border beyond which my own I ends) which attracts me most. For
beyond that border begins the secret the novel asks about. The novel is not
the author's confession; it is an investigation of human life in the trap
the world has become'
I'm not Milan Kundera. I'm just a mediocre writer who aspires
to be an aspiring writer.
I'm in love with my purple prose.
It is overwrought, dreary and tiresome to read .I'm a flawed writer.I write
only about myself. Sometimes I try to be too smart and end up doing a shoddy
job of it.
But I love what I write. Sometimes I go over my old stuff and reminisce.
Those are happy times...
In 'Hurt'
I write,
'I spend hours and days
planning in ways
to hurt you
the way you hurt me...'
'Is this not True Love?' I ask.
Who have I addressed here?
Nobody.
Let me deconstruct the magic. It is time I show you how I pull rabbits out
of my hat...
Let us examine the empedoclean paradox (see Empedocles) given below. It is a
Japanese poem I once read somewhere that goes something like this...
'To think that I am not going to think of you anymore
is still thinking of you...
Let me then try not to think
that I'm not going to think of you'
This was the inspiration for the post titled 'Hurt' and to it I had to
incorporate raknax's cryptic aphorism which said,
'It's practically raining disappointments. Thy monsoon of talking into the
dark.
One of these days, eventually you have to give me what I want.
No?'
Its relative vagueness and sensate richness in metaphor bowled me over.
I had to steal the line and use it somewhere.
I told him I would.
So I did.
Now let's read an excerpt of 'Running Away'
It says,' I see the world too clearly. It is not filled with shades of
grey.It is I who gets to fill it with colours and I'm in no mood to paint
the town red.
'So this is me running away'
'Far away from a colourful yet drab world that has nothing to do with me or
me anything with it'
'You owe me nothing, and I owe you my sanity, my humanity, and my everything
else.
I don't deserve you, nor do you deserve the pain and misery that is mine to
give'
'I'm not playing hard to get. I'm not pushing you away'
'I'm simply pushing you to forget me
and to believe in a lie that we were never meant to be'
'It would be a lie if I told you that I don't love you. But I'm a better
liar than a lover. So good that I believe in my lies'
'I love you more than the entire world itself, but at the same time I don't
want you to love me'
'Does that make sense? No? '
'Not to me either'
Running Away was clearly inspired by two people. Author Manil
Suri, and his book 'Age of Shiva' and 'Yes I will push you away' by our very
own Ms.J.
Ms.J has written very powerfully...It had a strong visceral impact on me ,
so much so that I wondered if I could write something similar...maybe
something from a man's perspective...a commitment phobic man's perspective,
and thus "Running Away' was born.
If you have read 'You think you know me,
Where I appear angry when I say
'You think you know me?'
'So you 'vet read everything, seen everything ...and now you think you know
me !
You think you know what makes me tick ? You think you know the inner
workings , the minute gears, cogs and sprockets that run this rust bucket ?
You think you know me?
You think you have figured me out ?'
'It takes a lifetime to know someone , and even then , one is not sure ...
The mind is a terrible thing. It goes deep. Deeper than the deepest pools
you have swum in '
'It is darker than the darkest places in your heart .
It is more frightening than the most frightening nightmares that wake you
up in the night'
which was in fact inspired by Robbie Williams song 'Madonna'(strange isn't
it ?)
(Factoid: Rudebox was voted Robbie's worst album ever)
Or in one of my imaginary confessions , I write
'She seemed perfect in every way .Her imperfections didn't matter then. I
wanted her to save me , from myself, like I always told her. Always.
'The heartbreak was in itself very un dramatic...with a simple sentence ,
she nudged me from a 'Potential Mate' to 'in your dreams , Mate! '.
It was a pre-emptive strike...much before I could do anything stupid and
humiliate myself and her'
'I hopelessly return to the same subject...over and over again. It seems
I'm powerless not to...'
'No. I haven't stopped grieving, and yes I'm still healing'
'I don't love her anymore, I still respect her , but I also have lost my
ability to fall in love with anyone anymore.
I only hope that time proves me wrong'
and this was inspired from a Jagjit singh ghazal .(No , I cannot explain it
any more than that, for I don't understand the mechanics of inspiration
myself)
Why am I saying this?
Well , I realize that you are taking my posts literally and too seriously...
That is good and bad news...The good news is , my writing is effective. The
bad news is, you are making it personal.
Let me confess once again...
like I've done so many times before,
and let this be true ,
(unlike before ?)
I'm like Jack Nicholson's character Melvin Udall in the movie 'As good as it
gets' , where Jack Nicholson plays a OCD patient addled with intimacy
issues...Although never in a relationship, he makes a living writing romance
novels (which are ironically best sellers)
No. I'm not in pain. I don't need help, nor therapy...This is just something
I write, because my brain is hardwired this way.I haven't gone through a
heart break...I've never been in a relationship...
until now.
Now, I keep meeting so many wonderful girls , I feel there are too many to
choose from !
Just kidding !
I'm still a loser ...with no girlfriend .
I'm just a guy in love with his own purple prose.
(Check this out: If you look up a dictionary , you'll find that 'purple
prose' is almost an oxymoron)
I'm not worth wasting your time.
Believe Me.
I have an answer to your question...
What I want is freedom to write anything I want...and for you to be
unaffected by it.
My writings may mean the world to me...but they should be meaningless to
you.
They are in a way meaningless, if you read them carefully. They never add up
!
I'm not insulting your intelligence by writing abstruse posts...
I'm tired of saying this, but believe me.
I'm not worth wasting your time.
My favourite bit in 'Hurt ' is (and always will be)
'I've prepared
Hot words & cold shoulders,
tepid indifference,
deafening silences,
sharp stinging barbs and rebukes honed to a deadly precision,
just waiting for your next mistake'
for no particular reason.
(Ah ! If not for the email size restrictions, this post would have been much
longer)
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Wed, 10 Dec 2008 12:22 UTC
Message-id: 705663344S347
If it must
Another dream time message. It says
'If it must ,let it bleed'
But what does it mean ?
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Wed, 10 Dec 2008 11:39 UTC
Message-id: 705653043S207
'If it must ,let it bleed'
But what does it mean ?
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Wed, 10 Dec 2008 11:39 UTC
Message-id: 705653043S207
I can Surf !
I can surf !
Hallelujah !
I can surf the web , but with one caveat .
Since we are anchored off Australia in a remote area called Port Whyalla
(and will be there all month long) , I bought a local sim card, which has 3G
and wap services.
Wap services are virtually free !
SO , you'll see me hunched over my cell phone, trying to surf multiply and
then post via email.
My thumbs are numb
and my fingers hurt.
My eyes are tired of squinting.
But it's all good,
it's all fun !
(I think I have carpal tunnel syndrome.OUCH !)
Stuck Down Under
Vikas
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Wed, 10 Dec 2008 11:39 UTC
Message-id: 705653039S207
Hallelujah !
I can surf the web , but with one caveat .
Since we are anchored off Australia in a remote area called Port Whyalla
(and will be there all month long) , I bought a local sim card, which has 3G
and wap services.
Wap services are virtually free !
SO , you'll see me hunched over my cell phone, trying to surf multiply and
then post via email.
My thumbs are numb
and my fingers hurt.
My eyes are tired of squinting.
But it's all good,
it's all fun !
(I think I have carpal tunnel syndrome.OUCH !)
Stuck Down Under
Vikas
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Wed, 10 Dec 2008 11:39 UTC
Message-id: 705653039S207
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Bell's Theorem
Bell's Theorem is supposed to be highly technical(No, I've not read it),
but in ordinary language it amounts to something like this:
There are no isolated systems: every particle in the universe is
in "instantaneous" (faster-than light)
communication with every other particle. The Whole
System, even the parts that are separated by cosmic distances,
functions as a Whole System.
Now, such faster-than-light communication seems to be
forbidden by Special Relativity, which makes a problem. Bell's
Theorem, however, is inescapable: a theorem in physics is not a
mere "theory"; it is a mathematical demonstration which must be
true, if the mathematics contains no flaw, and if the experiments
on which it is based are replicable. Bell's Theorem contains no
mathematical flaw, and the experiments are replicable and have
been replicated several times.
And yet we cannot dispense with Special Relativity either,
because the mathematics there is equally flawless and the experiments
are legion that confirm it.
Two solutions have been proposed and both assume that the
"communication" involved in Bellian transmissions does not
involve energy, since it is energy that cannot move faster than
light. Dr. Edward Harris Walker suggests that what does move
faster than light, and holds the Whole System together, is "consciousness."
We may eventually be forced to accept this, in
which case physics will have justified pantheism or at least pan psychism !
The other alternative, proposed by Dr. Jack Sarfatti, is
that the medium of Bellian transmissions is information.
Pure information, in the mathematical sense, does not require
energy; it is that which orders energy. It is the negative of
entropy, that which brings disorder to energy systems.
Let us digress a bit and try to understand what 'information' is.
A pattern that it's not random is known mathematically as
information.
Information can also be defined as organization, or as coherence.
Gregory Bateson has defined information as "differences that
make a difference."
Simply put, If you know something already, or can predict it
easily on the basis of what you do know, it is not information for
you. Conversely, if you don't know something, or can't predict
it, it is information.
For example...
Roses are red
Ink is black
Do me a favor
Go sit on a tack !
has more information than
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And so are you !
(Unless the reader has lived in relative isolation from American-
English folk-culture. Otherwise they both would have the same amount of
information assuming that this hypothetical idiot savant can understand
english)
And notice the leap in information as you read...
Roses are red
Violets are blue
You think this will rhyme
But it ain't gonna !
The humorous unpredictability of this poem gives it, mathematically,
a higher information level than the predictable Valentine
poem. If this is still obscure, remember
of Bateson's elegant simplification:
"Information is difference that makes a difference."
Information is also known mathematically as negative entropy
or, in a widely used abbreviation, negentropy.
Entropy is a measure of the deadness of a system. Negentropy
or information is a measure of the liveliness of a system.
if you can separate (for the purpose of classification)
the universe as hardware and software, then
Dr. Sarfatti's theory is explained as follows:
Imagine that your brain is a computer, as modern neurology
suggests. Now imagine that the whole universe is a big computer,
a mega-computer, as John Lilly has proposed. Then
imagine that the sub-quantum realm, the realm of what
Dr.David Bohm calls 'hidden variables' is made up of mini-minicomputers.
Now, the hardware of each 'computer'-the universe,
your brain, the sub-quantum mechanisms-is localized.
Each part of it is somewhere in spacetime, here not there, now
not then. But the software-the information-is non-local. It
is here, there and everywhere; now, then and everywhen.
Now I bet you didn't know that ! !
Please reconsider the implications of the interpretations of the Bell's
Theorem and how they affect your understanding of the world.
(source :Prometheus Rising -Robert Anton Wilson)
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 07 Dec 2008 00:18 UTC
Message-id: 704787756S35
but in ordinary language it amounts to something like this:
There are no isolated systems: every particle in the universe is
in "instantaneous" (faster-than light)
communication with every other particle. The Whole
System, even the parts that are separated by cosmic distances,
functions as a Whole System.
Now, such faster-than-light communication seems to be
forbidden by Special Relativity, which makes a problem. Bell's
Theorem, however, is inescapable: a theorem in physics is not a
mere "theory"; it is a mathematical demonstration which must be
true, if the mathematics contains no flaw, and if the experiments
on which it is based are replicable. Bell's Theorem contains no
mathematical flaw, and the experiments are replicable and have
been replicated several times.
And yet we cannot dispense with Special Relativity either,
because the mathematics there is equally flawless and the experiments
are legion that confirm it.
Two solutions have been proposed and both assume that the
"communication" involved in Bellian transmissions does not
involve energy, since it is energy that cannot move faster than
light. Dr. Edward Harris Walker suggests that what does move
faster than light, and holds the Whole System together, is "consciousness."
We may eventually be forced to accept this, in
which case physics will have justified pantheism or at least pan psychism !
The other alternative, proposed by Dr. Jack Sarfatti, is
that the medium of Bellian transmissions is information.
Pure information, in the mathematical sense, does not require
energy; it is that which orders energy. It is the negative of
entropy, that which brings disorder to energy systems.
Let us digress a bit and try to understand what 'information' is.
A pattern that it's not random is known mathematically as
information.
Information can also be defined as organization, or as coherence.
Gregory Bateson has defined information as "differences that
make a difference."
Simply put, If you know something already, or can predict it
easily on the basis of what you do know, it is not information for
you. Conversely, if you don't know something, or can't predict
it, it is information.
For example...
Roses are red
Ink is black
Do me a favor
Go sit on a tack !
has more information than
Roses are red
Violets are blue
Sugar is sweet
And so are you !
(Unless the reader has lived in relative isolation from American-
English folk-culture. Otherwise they both would have the same amount of
information assuming that this hypothetical idiot savant can understand
english)
And notice the leap in information as you read...
Roses are red
Violets are blue
You think this will rhyme
But it ain't gonna !
The humorous unpredictability of this poem gives it, mathematically,
a higher information level than the predictable Valentine
poem. If this is still obscure, remember
of Bateson's elegant simplification:
"Information is difference that makes a difference."
Information is also known mathematically as negative entropy
or, in a widely used abbreviation, negentropy.
Entropy is a measure of the deadness of a system. Negentropy
or information is a measure of the liveliness of a system.
if you can separate (for the purpose of classification)
the universe as hardware and software, then
Dr. Sarfatti's theory is explained as follows:
Imagine that your brain is a computer, as modern neurology
suggests. Now imagine that the whole universe is a big computer,
a mega-computer, as John Lilly has proposed. Then
imagine that the sub-quantum realm, the realm of what
Dr.David Bohm calls 'hidden variables' is made up of mini-minicomputers.
Now, the hardware of each 'computer'-the universe,
your brain, the sub-quantum mechanisms-is localized.
Each part of it is somewhere in spacetime, here not there, now
not then. But the software-the information-is non-local. It
is here, there and everywhere; now, then and everywhen.
Now I bet you didn't know that ! !
Please reconsider the implications of the interpretations of the Bell's
Theorem and how they affect your understanding of the world.
(source :Prometheus Rising -Robert Anton Wilson)
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 07 Dec 2008 00:18 UTC
Message-id: 704787756S35
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Teacher
A man once said, 'We all begin to die from the moment we are born...some do it faster than the others. All we can do is make the best of what we have'
He had no regrets in life.
He had made love to the most beautiful girl in the world and then held her child, his only son in his hands and then cried in joy. Danced at his son's wedding with the most beautiful bride in the world and years later , had held his
grandson in those very arms which once held his son.
This time though , he did not cry.
He smiled.
He was on his deathbed when he held the baby and thought, 'someone new is going to replace someone old'
Something that 'is' would become 'was', that he would be relegated to the past tense, just as his grandson had come into being from nothingness.
His son gently took the baby off his trembling hands and said,'Thank you for teaching me the difference between knowledge and knowing',and then opened the door to the outside world .There were three hundred morewaiting outside , who had come
to express their gratitude.
He did not die that night .He was too busy receiving the sea of guests whocame in wave after wave to thank him.
Years later people would swear that the man seemed to be lying fast asleep in his casket with a beatific smile on his face.
Perhaps he was.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Thu, 04 Dec 2008 23:58 UTC
Message-id: 704316558S104
He had no regrets in life.
He had made love to the most beautiful girl in the world and then held her child, his only son in his hands and then cried in joy. Danced at his son's wedding with the most beautiful bride in the world and years later , had held his
grandson in those very arms which once held his son.
This time though , he did not cry.
He smiled.
He was on his deathbed when he held the baby and thought, 'someone new is going to replace someone old'
Something that 'is' would become 'was', that he would be relegated to the past tense, just as his grandson had come into being from nothingness.
His son gently took the baby off his trembling hands and said,'Thank you for teaching me the difference between knowledge and knowing',and then opened the door to the outside world .There were three hundred morewaiting outside , who had come
to express their gratitude.
He did not die that night .He was too busy receiving the sea of guests whocame in wave after wave to thank him.
Years later people would swear that the man seemed to be lying fast asleep in his casket with a beatific smile on his face.
Perhaps he was.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Thu, 04 Dec 2008 23:58 UTC
Message-id: 704316558S104
Saturday, November 29, 2008
Juggernaut
Mumbai ,my beautiful Mumbai.
What is happening to you?
It's true , I've tried to romance you,
and failed.
I've waltzed in Matunga,
pranced with the wada pavs,
danced in dadar
caroused through kandivli
wassailed in virar ...
but you weren't impressed.
So I've Ceased and stopped all my attempts romance you.
But oh mumbai, what terrible tragedy has befallen upon you !
(sidebar)
A true juggernaut ,this world does not stop , but cruelly continues.
At a time of tragedy you wonder at the world's capacity for continuing..
It has happened to all of us. Hasn't it ?
Whenever we lost our near and dear ones , we expected the planet to cease
its spinning so that we could all float away from all the pain.
We expected silence, respect, the needs of the heart to be fulfilled , but
found that the world does not care, that it moves ahead.
People die, people are born again, the sun rises and sets, the stars come
out and play, and the world moves on.
When tragedy strikes , you mourn alone, while the world continues to turn,
for tragedy is already old news.
Hate, fear and intolerance are the only true crimes in this world.
You say, 'Now the healing can begin'
but there is no healing...
Just a short pause before the next horror, the next tragedy.
Until the hate ends.
(Hope for hope's sake,
for hope makes one strong,
so hope that...)
Mumbai , a perfect microcosm of the world , of all its chaos and glory , its
beauty and savage indifference , is therefore too a juggernaut in her own
sense.
Mumbai is far more resilient than what all the fear mongers in the world
have come to imagine.
She will swallow up everything: Fear, grief, insanity...and yes even hate,
the infinite vastness of the hate that fear mongers have harbored in their
hearts.
(A message to all fear mongers...)
Don't embody hatred.
It can only give you pyrrhic victories .
(A message to the rest of us...)
Be strong.
Be a juggernaut.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 30 Nov 2008 07:38 UTC
Message-id: 703014910S35
What is happening to you?
It's true , I've tried to romance you,
and failed.
I've waltzed in Matunga,
pranced with the wada pavs,
danced in dadar
caroused through kandivli
wassailed in virar ...
but you weren't impressed.
So I've Ceased and stopped all my attempts romance you.
But oh mumbai, what terrible tragedy has befallen upon you !
(sidebar)
A true juggernaut ,this world does not stop , but cruelly continues.
At a time of tragedy you wonder at the world's capacity for continuing..
It has happened to all of us. Hasn't it ?
Whenever we lost our near and dear ones , we expected the planet to cease
its spinning so that we could all float away from all the pain.
We expected silence, respect, the needs of the heart to be fulfilled , but
found that the world does not care, that it moves ahead.
People die, people are born again, the sun rises and sets, the stars come
out and play, and the world moves on.
When tragedy strikes , you mourn alone, while the world continues to turn,
for tragedy is already old news.
Hate, fear and intolerance are the only true crimes in this world.
You say, 'Now the healing can begin'
but there is no healing...
Just a short pause before the next horror, the next tragedy.
Until the hate ends.
(Hope for hope's sake,
for hope makes one strong,
so hope that...)
Mumbai , a perfect microcosm of the world , of all its chaos and glory , its
beauty and savage indifference , is therefore too a juggernaut in her own
sense.
Mumbai is far more resilient than what all the fear mongers in the world
have come to imagine.
She will swallow up everything: Fear, grief, insanity...and yes even hate,
the infinite vastness of the hate that fear mongers have harbored in their
hearts.
(A message to all fear mongers...)
Don't embody hatred.
It can only give you pyrrhic victories .
(A message to the rest of us...)
Be strong.
Be a juggernaut.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 30 Nov 2008 07:38 UTC
Message-id: 703014910S35
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Hurt
I spend hours and days
planning in ways
to hurt you
the way you hurt me...
Is this not True Love?
To think that I am not going to think of you anymore is still thinking of you...
Let me then try not to think that I'm not going to think of you.
It's futile. So I've given up.
A dangerous creature of beauty ,you are
perhaps with a coal-tar heart
for I've never seen it in love
except perhaps with itself
All the pain that I feel now stems from non acceptance,
Non acceptance of the fact that you don't really love me,
And that all this is just a game for you.
For You feed on the power
got from making people fall in love with you.
And then pushing them away.
How many more
have met the same fate before ?
In your defense ,
I expect a steely cold silence.
It's pathetic, now that I see it,
but I've spent more than my fair share of time obsessing on all the things
you have done to wrong me ,
and all the things I want to do
to get back at you.
I've prepared
Hot words & cold shoulders,
tepid indifference,
deafening silences,
sharp stinging barbs and rebukes honed to a deadly precision,
Just waiting for your next mistake.
I spend hours making imaginary arguments
where you admit defeat
and beg forgiveness,
and in one moment drunk on the high of victory ,
I deny it.
It feels so GOOD ,
but SO Wrong.
Why do we want to hurt the people we love the most ?
Is it because only they have the power to hurt us too ?
But in my heart of hearts I know the day will never come when I'll hurt you.I cannot.
I'm weak , I admit.
I've failed .
That too I admit.
But that's not what you want.
I know.
I know what you want.
But the moment I give in, I lose everything, and more importantly I lose myself.
Which I cannot let happen.
It was practically raining disappointments on the night I lied to you.
What a wonderful imagery the above sentence has.
"It was practically raining disappointments"...I stole this line from someone much more talented than me.
I told him I would...
One of these days , eventually you have to give me what I want. (I stole this line from him too. Yes I'm a hack and a faker)
No?
If not , I'll take my heart somewhere else(but not this line)
It was practically raining disappointments on the night I lied to you,
And I was getting drenched in falsehood
waiting to get struck by lightning
but you knew it & I knew it,
That It was finally over
What was left was an artifice of civility
Now
Only an artifice remains.
To think that I am not going to think of you anymore is still thinking of you .
I know.
I constantly wrestle with my thoughts.
But now, I'll suffer in silence.
And when we meet ,which I'm sure we will
All that was said will be there still
I'll let it pass and hold my tongue
And you will think that I've moved on. (I stole this from "White Flag", Dido. Yes I'm a liar and a thief too)
p.s. This is the last time I'll be writing to you.
I promise.(cross my heart and hope to die)
planning in ways
to hurt you
the way you hurt me...
Is this not True Love?
To think that I am not going to think of you anymore is still thinking of you...
Let me then try not to think that I'm not going to think of you.
It's futile. So I've given up.
A dangerous creature of beauty ,you are
perhaps with a coal-tar heart
for I've never seen it in love
except perhaps with itself
All the pain that I feel now stems from non acceptance,
Non acceptance of the fact that you don't really love me,
And that all this is just a game for you.
For You feed on the power
got from making people fall in love with you.
And then pushing them away.
How many more
have met the same fate before ?
In your defense ,
I expect a steely cold silence.
It's pathetic, now that I see it,
but I've spent more than my fair share of time obsessing on all the things
you have done to wrong me ,
and all the things I want to do
to get back at you.
I've prepared
Hot words & cold shoulders,
tepid indifference,
deafening silences,
sharp stinging barbs and rebukes honed to a deadly precision,
Just waiting for your next mistake.
I spend hours making imaginary arguments
where you admit defeat
and beg forgiveness,
and in one moment drunk on the high of victory ,
I deny it.
It feels so GOOD ,
but SO Wrong.
Why do we want to hurt the people we love the most ?
Is it because only they have the power to hurt us too ?
But in my heart of hearts I know the day will never come when I'll hurt you.I cannot.
I'm weak , I admit.
I've failed .
That too I admit.
But that's not what you want.
I know.
I know what you want.
But the moment I give in, I lose everything, and more importantly I lose myself.
Which I cannot let happen.
It was practically raining disappointments on the night I lied to you.
What a wonderful imagery the above sentence has.
"It was practically raining disappointments"...I stole this line from someone much more talented than me.
I told him I would...
One of these days , eventually you have to give me what I want. (I stole this line from him too. Yes I'm a hack and a faker)
No?
If not , I'll take my heart somewhere else(but not this line)
It was practically raining disappointments on the night I lied to you,
And I was getting drenched in falsehood
waiting to get struck by lightning
but you knew it & I knew it,
That It was finally over
What was left was an artifice of civility
Now
Only an artifice remains.
To think that I am not going to think of you anymore is still thinking of you .
I know.
I constantly wrestle with my thoughts.
But now, I'll suffer in silence.
And when we meet ,which I'm sure we will
All that was said will be there still
I'll let it pass and hold my tongue
And you will think that I've moved on. (I stole this from "White Flag", Dido. Yes I'm a liar and a thief too)
p.s. This is the last time I'll be writing to you.
I promise.(cross my heart and hope to die)
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Hey ! Who moved my Cheese ?
You must have noticed this peculiar trait about human beings. (of course not
you !)
If humans find something they can do that doesn't work, they do it again.
And again...
And again...
And again...
ad infinitum
Eminent psychologist and behaviorist B. F. Skinner once had a
group of students who had done a lot of research with rats and mazes. And
somebody asked them one day "What is the real difference between a rat and a
human being?"
Now, behaviorists not being terribly observant, decided that they needed to
experiment to find out. They built a huge maze that was scaled up for a
human. They took a control group of rats and taught them to run a small maze
for cheese. And they took the humans and taught them to run the large maze
for five-dollar bills. They didn't notice any really significant difference.
There were small variations in the data and at the 95% probability level
they discovered some significant difference in the number of trials to
criterion or something. The humans were able to learn to run the maze
somewhat better, a little bit quicker, than the rats.
The really interesting statistics came up when they did the extinguishing
part.
They removed the five-dollar bills and the cheese and after a certain number
of trials the rats stopped running the
maze....
However, the humans never stopped!... They are still there!
... They break into the labs at night.
This probably explains why we are never completely cured of our addictions,
or why we
never let go of our obsessions, or why I listen to the same few songs on my
iPod even though I have 20 GB and more of (cough 'pirated and illegal'
cough) songs,
or why I write the same things over and over again !
Sadly without even realizing it !
It is not history that repeats.
But It is we,
who are condemned to repeat our mistakes.
So
Tell me when you get bored of me.
I'll try to change.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 23 Nov 2008 15:26 UTC
Message-id: 701397235S169
you !)
If humans find something they can do that doesn't work, they do it again.
And again...
And again...
And again...
ad infinitum
Eminent psychologist and behaviorist B. F. Skinner once had a
group of students who had done a lot of research with rats and mazes. And
somebody asked them one day "What is the real difference between a rat and a
human being?"
Now, behaviorists not being terribly observant, decided that they needed to
experiment to find out. They built a huge maze that was scaled up for a
human. They took a control group of rats and taught them to run a small maze
for cheese. And they took the humans and taught them to run the large maze
for five-dollar bills. They didn't notice any really significant difference.
There were small variations in the data and at the 95% probability level
they discovered some significant difference in the number of trials to
criterion or something. The humans were able to learn to run the maze
somewhat better, a little bit quicker, than the rats.
The really interesting statistics came up when they did the extinguishing
part.
They removed the five-dollar bills and the cheese and after a certain number
of trials the rats stopped running the
maze....
However, the humans never stopped!... They are still there!
... They break into the labs at night.
This probably explains why we are never completely cured of our addictions,
or why we
never let go of our obsessions, or why I listen to the same few songs on my
iPod even though I have 20 GB and more of (cough 'pirated and illegal'
cough) songs,
or why I write the same things over and over again !
Sadly without even realizing it !
It is not history that repeats.
But It is we,
who are condemned to repeat our mistakes.
So
Tell me when you get bored of me.
I'll try to change.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 23 Nov 2008 15:26 UTC
Message-id: 701397235S169
It's futile to even try...
To think that I am not going to think of you anymore is still thinking of
you .
Let me then try not to think that I'm not going to think of you.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 23 Nov 2008 15:06 UTC
Message-id: 701395120S169
you .
Let me then try not to think that I'm not going to think of you.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 23 Nov 2008 15:06 UTC
Message-id: 701395120S169
Thursday, November 20, 2008
We Wish You a
20th November 1984.
20th November 2008.
A lot of things have changed.
In 1984 , it was a cool Tuesday evening in a small local nursing home,
where my reluctant arrival was announced by an ear-shattering scream .
That was mom.
Not me.
I didn't cry much on that day.
I was merely reserving my strength claims mom,
for I was a cranky colicky baby that would cry every night for more than a
year.
The nurses told mom that she had delivered a beautiful baby boy
(mom's words , not mine) who was as fair as snow and just the right weight.
(It took about five years to get rid of that unnatural fairness. But now I'm
as tan as any Indian can be !)
Oh ! And look how cute his little shamey is !
(again , mom's words , not mine)
MOM ! I'm 25 now ! It's not funny anymore !
In 2008, I call mom early in the morning.
She tells me about her day.
I listen to her patiently.
She has to go attend someone's wedding.
I listen to her patiently.
The maid is quitting as she's getting married in three days.
I listen to her patiently.
Yes mother
Yes mother
Yes mother
And almost as an afterthought , she wishes me.
I say thank you.
I know later today she'll go to her favorite temple and pray for me.
Thank you again .
I don't call dad. I know he's busy.
He's in Mumbai attending a company seminar.
I don't think he'll remember unless mom reminds him...
ATLEAST A HUNDRED TIMES !
It's okay dad...It's not that important.
I don't mind.
I recall a birthday I once went to , where the birthday girl asked me ...
"So !You're the Only child aren't you ? You must be a completely spoilt
brat !"
"Hmm...(I add these Hmm's to appear smart)
"I always tell my parents how they lost their chance to spoil their only
son !" I tell her
"Now I tell them that they're too late because he's too old to be spoilt !"
Birthdays have always been tepid affairs at home.
At the age of ten , it was decided that I was too old for my birthday, so it
would not be celebrated anymore.
In fact on my tenth birthday , we kept a candle in a place filled with
uncooked rice and I blew it out , and that was it.
So instead, every year we'd have an alternative routine to confirm the
solemnity and specialness of the occasion.
On my birthday, I'd wake up early and then mom would take me to a temple
and make me pray. Later she would prepare a sweet dish and practically force
feed it to me.(I hate almost all sweet dishes, except home- made kaju barfi)
That was how my birthdays went. That's how they still go now.
No parties, no cakes, no gifts.
No regrets either.
But now my parents regret their decision. They want to celebrate my
birthday.
They want to throw a party , invite people and etc etc.
Of course , now it's my turn to expressly forbid such a farce.
Today on the ship, I kept my birthday a secret from all other ship staff.
I worked an extra hour on deck , securing all the lifebuoys to their
receptacles as we were expecting to bear the brunt of Tropical Storm Anika
and Tropical Storm Bernard who are trying to sandwich the ship in between
them.
But later , to my surprise , everyone had found out.
My company , in order to make me , one of its tiny insignificant employees ,
feel like he's a part of the larger family , had (in accordance with the
company's spiritual & holistic advisor) warmly sent a computer generated
email sending its best regards , along with the name of the company general
manager and the company motto as its signature.
(Besides a Job, we offer a Career & Commitment)
Suddenly , with the cat out of the bag, everyone was wishing me .
Clint sang a heavily accented 'Happy Birthday To You' , to which I said
that I'd rather have Marilyn Monroe sing it.
Nobody...well almost nobody got the joke.
Now , I'm being a bit childish , but I'm entitled to be a bit childish
today.
SO here's my email id
shipoff.c6xb2@globeemail.com
Hey ! It's not too late.
I'll pretend like I'm still waiting.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Thu, 20 Nov 2008 16:00 UTC
Message-id: 700774702S183
20th November 2008.
A lot of things have changed.
In 1984 , it was a cool Tuesday evening in a small local nursing home,
where my reluctant arrival was announced by an ear-shattering scream .
That was mom.
Not me.
I didn't cry much on that day.
I was merely reserving my strength claims mom,
for I was a cranky colicky baby that would cry every night for more than a
year.
The nurses told mom that she had delivered a beautiful baby boy
(mom's words , not mine) who was as fair as snow and just the right weight.
(It took about five years to get rid of that unnatural fairness. But now I'm
as tan as any Indian can be !)
Oh ! And look how cute his little shamey is !
(again , mom's words , not mine)
MOM ! I'm 25 now ! It's not funny anymore !
In 2008, I call mom early in the morning.
She tells me about her day.
I listen to her patiently.
She has to go attend someone's wedding.
I listen to her patiently.
The maid is quitting as she's getting married in three days.
I listen to her patiently.
Yes mother
Yes mother
Yes mother
And almost as an afterthought , she wishes me.
I say thank you.
I know later today she'll go to her favorite temple and pray for me.
Thank you again .
I don't call dad. I know he's busy.
He's in Mumbai attending a company seminar.
I don't think he'll remember unless mom reminds him...
ATLEAST A HUNDRED TIMES !
It's okay dad...It's not that important.
I don't mind.
I recall a birthday I once went to , where the birthday girl asked me ...
"So !You're the Only child aren't you ? You must be a completely spoilt
brat !"
"Hmm...(I add these Hmm's to appear smart)
"I always tell my parents how they lost their chance to spoil their only
son !" I tell her
"Now I tell them that they're too late because he's too old to be spoilt !"
Birthdays have always been tepid affairs at home.
At the age of ten , it was decided that I was too old for my birthday, so it
would not be celebrated anymore.
In fact on my tenth birthday , we kept a candle in a place filled with
uncooked rice and I blew it out , and that was it.
So instead, every year we'd have an alternative routine to confirm the
solemnity and specialness of the occasion.
On my birthday, I'd wake up early and then mom would take me to a temple
and make me pray. Later she would prepare a sweet dish and practically force
feed it to me.(I hate almost all sweet dishes, except home- made kaju barfi)
That was how my birthdays went. That's how they still go now.
No parties, no cakes, no gifts.
No regrets either.
But now my parents regret their decision. They want to celebrate my
birthday.
They want to throw a party , invite people and etc etc.
Of course , now it's my turn to expressly forbid such a farce.
Today on the ship, I kept my birthday a secret from all other ship staff.
I worked an extra hour on deck , securing all the lifebuoys to their
receptacles as we were expecting to bear the brunt of Tropical Storm Anika
and Tropical Storm Bernard who are trying to sandwich the ship in between
them.
But later , to my surprise , everyone had found out.
My company , in order to make me , one of its tiny insignificant employees ,
feel like he's a part of the larger family , had (in accordance with the
company's spiritual & holistic advisor) warmly sent a computer generated
email sending its best regards , along with the name of the company general
manager and the company motto as its signature.
(Besides a Job, we offer a Career & Commitment)
Suddenly , with the cat out of the bag, everyone was wishing me .
Clint sang a heavily accented 'Happy Birthday To You' , to which I said
that I'd rather have Marilyn Monroe sing it.
Nobody...well almost nobody got the joke.
Now , I'm being a bit childish , but I'm entitled to be a bit childish
today.
SO here's my email id
shipoff.c6xb2@globeemail.com
Hey ! It's not too late.
I'll pretend like I'm still waiting.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Thu, 20 Nov 2008 16:00 UTC
Message-id: 700774702S183
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Mercy
True human goodness, in all its purity and freedom, can come to the fore
only when its recipient has no power. Mankind's true moral test, its
fundamental test (which lies deeply buried from view), consists of its
attitude towards those who are at its mercy: animals. And in this respect
mankind has suffered a fundamental debacle, a debacle so fundamental that
all others stem from it.
I suffer from a deep tumult in my conscience when I see animals suffer.
It is my destiny that takes me towards animals.Perhaps it is my calling.
Even out at sea ,I'm forced by my conscience to help them.
To me, kindness towards animals is the guage of human goodness.If you don't
like animals, I don't like you.If you are unkind to animals , I will hate
you .
If you are intentionally cruel to animals, I just might lose control over
myself, and act with utter disregard to all and any consequences !
After seeing two whale carcasses in the span of two weeks, I didn't know
what to make of it.
Was it an ill omen , a sign of things to come in the near future ?
There was an unfortunate sparrow stuck onboard.
It had come on board somehow and before it realized , it was too far away
from land and unable to return. It would try to get inside the accomodation.
It would repeatedly butt itself into the huge window panes of the Navigation
Bridge testing relentlessly to find out ways in which it could breach the
hermetically sealed accomodation. When tired , it would sit on the railings
in front of the bridge windows and stare at me.It's stare was cold , direct
and accusatory, asking for its pound of flesh for some vague transgression
that I did not commit.
"I'm sorry I killed her" was all I could say. When I couldn't forgive
myself, how could I ask forgiveness from someone else ?
To assuage my conscience I tried to feed it with bread crumbs and nuts and
grams and pulses and rice. There was always a cup of fresh water waiting for
it .But the sparrow would not have any of it. It did not want food or
water.(or rather ,it did not want the food that I offered)But it would
continue butting it's tiny body against the glass panes with relentless
fervour. And it would continue its accusatory staring.
So much so that, I finally acquiesed and opened the starboad bridge wing
door wide open and waited for it.
A few minutes later we were drenched by the sudden rain squalls that struck
the ship.
Without realizing my memories wandered to the events of my last ship...
I had the good fortune of joining my last ship in my own hometown of
mangalore.
As the ship departed we found that we had a stowaway onboard.
A crow had boarded and was refusing to fly away. Perhaps he too was seduced
by the prospect of seeing the rest of the world ,like I once was.
Like all the seamen in the world, the crow would soon be disillusioned.
Can disillusionment be the first step to enlightenment ?
When you ask yourself
"Is that all there is ?" ,
recognize
that this is the first step over the ledge of self delusion. The dark
precipice that you stare at down below from this ledge is the unknowningness
of reality. So get a good bungee cord and strap yourself tightly and take
the dive.Let the bungee cord do the rest !
A man should visit reality infrequently and briefly, lest he lose the
delicate equlibrium over his sanity.
So for whatever reasons the crow had boarded on the ship , it too had found
itself trapped , too far away from land and going nowhere .The crow, my only
fellow mate from my town found it hard to survive on the ship.
Which leads us to the basic question about viewpoints, namely, in other
words What is a ship ?
To a crow , a ship is a barren steel island in
the middle of nowhere, which is going nowhere, with nothing to eat and
drink, and with no escape.
It drank water whenever it rained and soon it ate whenever we humans felt
like feeding it.
It developed a strong bond with the chief mate's wife who was kind enough to
feed it once a day with bread crumbs and pieces of chapatis.
The bond was so strong that the crow promptly returned to the ship as we
were departing Australia, eventhough it had a good chance of survival ashore
than at sea.
Things took a turn to worse when it was decided by the powers that be (i.e
the owners of the ship and the charterers) that we were to go to Korea
.Korea in December is as cold as it is hot in Australia (in December)
The crow spent many miserable days and nights without the mercy of the chief
mate's wife, on whom it had placed its entire reserve of trust, so much so
that it would appear beside her at her beckoning, because it was too cold
for her to venture out. I tried to feed it but without avail as the crow
would fly away and the bread crumbs and chapatis I kept would become soggy
and eventually be washed away.
Pardon my repeated digression, but this paragraph outlines the sketchy
realationship between reality and denouement. In real life , unlike fiction
, we are repeatedly subjected to what I call "Crappy Denouement", or to put
it more elegantly an "Unsatisfactory Denouement".The most satisfactory
denouement that occurs in real life is death, for we see nothing beyond it.
Apart from that one can agree that in most other cases , life is one long
series of Crappy Denouements .
The preceding paragraph was just a setup, to prepare you for the harshness
of reality.
One fine day, in the middle of the sea, on the way to Korea , the rain had
let up and I could no longer find the crow onboard.
If you as a reader demand explanations that would satisfy your sense of
curiosity or give you a sense of closure , then I'd be forced to guess that
the crow died in the storm that broke out on the previous night or even lie
to make you happy that the crow had found an island where it could live and
now lives there happily with a new found mate.But the truth is that I DON'T
KNOW.
That , my dear reader is Crappy denouement.Welcome to reality !
I must again issue another declaration that the preceding paragraph was a
subterfuge , it was another setup , to prepare you for the harsh mundanity
of reality.
All the bread crumbs I had left for the sparrow and the cup of water I had
positioned so carefully was left untouched. The heavy rainsqualls washed
away all the soggy bread crumbs .And as for the sparrow itself, I could not
find it again.
It was Crappy Denouement
all over again.
An old Indian Jataka story goes something like this...
Once upon a time, a man saw a sage , an old and wizened rishi trying to save
a scorpion from drowning in the river. The sage would try to cup the
drowning scorpion with his hands and save it , but the scorpion would sting
him and begin drowning again.
This went on for a while and finally the exasperated man said
"Arre oh wise rishi ! Can't you see the futility of your actions ?
Don't you know that it is in the scorpion's nature to sting anyone, even if
that person is trying to save its life ?"
To that the wise old rishi replied
"O wise man !Though you have determined the true nature of the scorpion you
have failed to take notice that it is in my nature to save the scorpion !"
Thus , our actions stem from our nature, and perhaps that was what prompted
me once again to take action.
I found a half dead blue finch leaning weakly on the starboard liferaft.
It did not fly away when it saw me approach.
I gently took the bird in my cupped hand and warmed its tiny body. It did
not protest as I took it inside and gave it a drop of water. The bird would
not survive the night. I kept some bread crumbs and pulses and a dead
dragonfly next to it. I placed a large bowl of water and it took another sip
of water.
I made a soft little nest with a few rags and placed it in a warm and dry
area.
I left it there so that it could die in peace.
Thus , I did what my nature dictated.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 16 Nov 2008 13:33 UTC
Message-id: 399523531S204
only when its recipient has no power. Mankind's true moral test, its
fundamental test (which lies deeply buried from view), consists of its
attitude towards those who are at its mercy: animals. And in this respect
mankind has suffered a fundamental debacle, a debacle so fundamental that
all others stem from it.
I suffer from a deep tumult in my conscience when I see animals suffer.
It is my destiny that takes me towards animals.Perhaps it is my calling.
Even out at sea ,I'm forced by my conscience to help them.
To me, kindness towards animals is the guage of human goodness.If you don't
like animals, I don't like you.If you are unkind to animals , I will hate
you .
If you are intentionally cruel to animals, I just might lose control over
myself, and act with utter disregard to all and any consequences !
After seeing two whale carcasses in the span of two weeks, I didn't know
what to make of it.
Was it an ill omen , a sign of things to come in the near future ?
There was an unfortunate sparrow stuck onboard.
It had come on board somehow and before it realized , it was too far away
from land and unable to return. It would try to get inside the accomodation.
It would repeatedly butt itself into the huge window panes of the Navigation
Bridge testing relentlessly to find out ways in which it could breach the
hermetically sealed accomodation. When tired , it would sit on the railings
in front of the bridge windows and stare at me.It's stare was cold , direct
and accusatory, asking for its pound of flesh for some vague transgression
that I did not commit.
"I'm sorry I killed her" was all I could say. When I couldn't forgive
myself, how could I ask forgiveness from someone else ?
To assuage my conscience I tried to feed it with bread crumbs and nuts and
grams and pulses and rice. There was always a cup of fresh water waiting for
it .But the sparrow would not have any of it. It did not want food or
water.(or rather ,it did not want the food that I offered)But it would
continue butting it's tiny body against the glass panes with relentless
fervour. And it would continue its accusatory staring.
So much so that, I finally acquiesed and opened the starboad bridge wing
door wide open and waited for it.
A few minutes later we were drenched by the sudden rain squalls that struck
the ship.
Without realizing my memories wandered to the events of my last ship...
I had the good fortune of joining my last ship in my own hometown of
mangalore.
As the ship departed we found that we had a stowaway onboard.
A crow had boarded and was refusing to fly away. Perhaps he too was seduced
by the prospect of seeing the rest of the world ,like I once was.
Like all the seamen in the world, the crow would soon be disillusioned.
Can disillusionment be the first step to enlightenment ?
When you ask yourself
"Is that all there is ?" ,
recognize
that this is the first step over the ledge of self delusion. The dark
precipice that you stare at down below from this ledge is the unknowningness
of reality. So get a good bungee cord and strap yourself tightly and take
the dive.Let the bungee cord do the rest !
A man should visit reality infrequently and briefly, lest he lose the
delicate equlibrium over his sanity.
So for whatever reasons the crow had boarded on the ship , it too had found
itself trapped , too far away from land and going nowhere .The crow, my only
fellow mate from my town found it hard to survive on the ship.
Which leads us to the basic question about viewpoints, namely, in other
words What is a ship ?
To a crow , a ship is a barren steel island in
the middle of nowhere, which is going nowhere, with nothing to eat and
drink, and with no escape.
It drank water whenever it rained and soon it ate whenever we humans felt
like feeding it.
It developed a strong bond with the chief mate's wife who was kind enough to
feed it once a day with bread crumbs and pieces of chapatis.
The bond was so strong that the crow promptly returned to the ship as we
were departing Australia, eventhough it had a good chance of survival ashore
than at sea.
Things took a turn to worse when it was decided by the powers that be (i.e
the owners of the ship and the charterers) that we were to go to Korea
.Korea in December is as cold as it is hot in Australia (in December)
The crow spent many miserable days and nights without the mercy of the chief
mate's wife, on whom it had placed its entire reserve of trust, so much so
that it would appear beside her at her beckoning, because it was too cold
for her to venture out. I tried to feed it but without avail as the crow
would fly away and the bread crumbs and chapatis I kept would become soggy
and eventually be washed away.
Pardon my repeated digression, but this paragraph outlines the sketchy
realationship between reality and denouement. In real life , unlike fiction
, we are repeatedly subjected to what I call "Crappy Denouement", or to put
it more elegantly an "Unsatisfactory Denouement".The most satisfactory
denouement that occurs in real life is death, for we see nothing beyond it.
Apart from that one can agree that in most other cases , life is one long
series of Crappy Denouements .
The preceding paragraph was just a setup, to prepare you for the harshness
of reality.
One fine day, in the middle of the sea, on the way to Korea , the rain had
let up and I could no longer find the crow onboard.
If you as a reader demand explanations that would satisfy your sense of
curiosity or give you a sense of closure , then I'd be forced to guess that
the crow died in the storm that broke out on the previous night or even lie
to make you happy that the crow had found an island where it could live and
now lives there happily with a new found mate.But the truth is that I DON'T
KNOW.
That , my dear reader is Crappy denouement.Welcome to reality !
I must again issue another declaration that the preceding paragraph was a
subterfuge , it was another setup , to prepare you for the harsh mundanity
of reality.
All the bread crumbs I had left for the sparrow and the cup of water I had
positioned so carefully was left untouched. The heavy rainsqualls washed
away all the soggy bread crumbs .And as for the sparrow itself, I could not
find it again.
It was Crappy Denouement
all over again.
An old Indian Jataka story goes something like this...
Once upon a time, a man saw a sage , an old and wizened rishi trying to save
a scorpion from drowning in the river. The sage would try to cup the
drowning scorpion with his hands and save it , but the scorpion would sting
him and begin drowning again.
This went on for a while and finally the exasperated man said
"Arre oh wise rishi ! Can't you see the futility of your actions ?
Don't you know that it is in the scorpion's nature to sting anyone, even if
that person is trying to save its life ?"
To that the wise old rishi replied
"O wise man !Though you have determined the true nature of the scorpion you
have failed to take notice that it is in my nature to save the scorpion !"
Thus , our actions stem from our nature, and perhaps that was what prompted
me once again to take action.
I found a half dead blue finch leaning weakly on the starboard liferaft.
It did not fly away when it saw me approach.
I gently took the bird in my cupped hand and warmed its tiny body. It did
not protest as I took it inside and gave it a drop of water. The bird would
not survive the night. I kept some bread crumbs and pulses and a dead
dragonfly next to it. I placed a large bowl of water and it took another sip
of water.
I made a soft little nest with a few rags and placed it in a warm and dry
area.
I left it there so that it could die in peace.
Thus , I did what my nature dictated.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 16 Nov 2008 13:33 UTC
Message-id: 399523531S204
Friday, November 7, 2008
Law of Communication
Law of communication.
Communication is only possible between equals.
This is an over-simplification .
More precisely, this proposed "law" would read:
Adequate communication flows freely between equals.
Communication between non-equals is warped and
distorted by Domination and Submission rituals
perpetuating communication jam and a Game Without End.
Am I getting through you now ?
Communication is only possible between equals.
This is an over-simplification .
More precisely, this proposed "law" would read:
Adequate communication flows freely between equals.
Communication between non-equals is warped and
distorted by Domination and Submission rituals
perpetuating communication jam and a Game Without End.
Am I getting through you now ?
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Fountain of Youth
I've always believed that
'Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind , it doesn't
matter'.
Age , like beauty is in the eye of the beholder and the mind of the person.
Age is not related to time in the strictest sense just as beauty is not
related to symmetry (in the strictest sense).
Just a month ago ,we were loading propane and butane in Bandar Imam
Khomeini, in Iran. The port of BIK is deep inside , at the end of river
Mashrar .The entry to this river is very tricky and it requires intimate
knowledge of the tidal variations and its general geography .(bathymetry to
be precise)
Pilots , in the maritime sense are specialists who can pilot the vessel
safely through these tricky places. They are locals and ex-masters who have
thorough knowledge of local weather patterns and conditions and are
rigorously tested at a regular basis.
After an uneventful loading we set out to Fujairah to receive bunkers and
then head towards the discharge port.
During the outer pilotage ,I was on watch .
The river passage is a long one , taking up to five hours. So after the
un-berthing stations I wore my uniform and rushed up to the Navigating
Bridge to keep my watch.
The pilot , I noticed was very old. Classic silver haired mane , an Iranian
hawk like nose, a stooping back and an unflappable air of dignity around
him.
During pilotage , the Navigating Officer's main duty is to provide a link
between the Master and the Pilot and the Helmsman and track and monitor the
vessel and see that overall safety is not compromised.
Now , the pilot wanted to speak to me."Cadet ! " He tried to call me.
I corrected him that I was the third mate and not the cadet. But since he
had a feeble and grated voice as a result of years of smoking , I leaned in
towards him to hear him better.
With a flash of affection in his face , he stroked my chin !
Taken aback by his untoward gesture , I jerked back.
The awkwardness that had transpired in between us was over in moment and
the pilot regained his composure, (and I regained mine) and then with great
effort and a louder voice started talking to me. First he asked me my age,
then my experience as a navigating officer.I replied that I was 24. And this
was my second ship as a third mate, but I had done six ships so far .
Then , as is if he was talking to his grandchild , he started to
patronizingly advise me about the dangers of going to Somalia or the risks
of bedding loose women in different ports !
Hah !
Old Age was never a man's problem. Amitabh Bacchan got voted the sexiest
Indian superstar alive well in his sixties. Wrinkles may make a women old,
but on a man's face they add character. Women drool over the salt pepper
look of grey and black hair. Hey !, Hugh Hefner has five girlfriends at
eighty !
But what about being too young ?
Ah ! Now there's a problem.
Young age is a bane to all men. It declares to the world their immaturity &
inexperience.
Young age is Pure kryptonite to any young superman's psyche !
"How old are you ?" is the first question every port official asks me,
perhaps wondering if I'm ready to handle the enormous responsibilities of
being a navigating officer of a ship. After all the responsibility of the
ship staff's lives and their safety is placed on the third officer (at least
during his watch)
It's the combination of my ever breaking out skin and a rail thin body that
further enhances the illusion of youthful immaturity.
I know how to tackle this situation too. I comb my hair differently. Its
slicked all the way back ,like the hair of an Italian mobster. My ugly mug
sports constant 5'o'clock shadow.(which takes 2 days to grow !), and maybe
I'll take up smoking , so that my voice gets hoary and I can add a few
wrinkles on my face.
Hah ! Even I'm not that stupid enough to start smoking !
But I'm lucky.
My looks go after my dad's.
I'm going to age normally, unlike my mom !
My mom does not look 46.(ok ok . she is 47)
She is often mistaken for my elder sister.(who does not exist)
Mom is ageless. When she tells people she has a son, they assume he's still
at school. But disbelief hits hard when she reveals that her son is 24 years
old and a seasoned (salted?) sailor.
For comic effect , she makes me stand beside her when she is introducing me
to others.
Picture this.
I'm 5'9'' tall.
She's 5'2'' tall.
The sheer ridiculousness of the striking visual contrast of sizes makes jaws
drop and sputter inanities.
I recently met someone else who's ageless. Her problem is that she looks so
young that people don't realize that she's a surgeon...people don't treat
her with the seriousness that is usually reserved for a surgeon.(I must
admit that even I don't !)
Of course , I realized that she was indeed a rare find.
She too has somehow managed to tap into the fountain of eternal youth in
these days of global warming and pollution and inflated stress.
So , I hatched a plan to make her meet my mom. I just wanted to see the
chemistry between two people who are so similar yet so widely different.
Once they met , they hit it off exceedingly well. It was because although
they are very different , they share many common traits , which I believe is
their secret to agelessness.
Their secrets are (I think) :
A strict diet of healthy food.(both are vegetarians and very picky about the
food they eat),religious adherence to a personalized exercise routine, a
zest for life, an extremely positive outlook , strong sense of identity and
future goals, a large and varied social circle and the ability to find
happiness within oneself.
I know my mom's other secret.
She is afraid to die. Apart from bats it's the only other fear she has.
So she lives every day like she never has lived before. So absorbed in what
she does that nothing else matters... that nothing else exists.
So let this be a reminder to all you pill poppers, wrinkle
skin-cream users ,all you Botox addicts, chemical peelers and collagen and
silicone implanters: Age is not real. Your body doesn't get corrupted by
Time. It gets corrupted by cell division error and free radicals. In the
same manner, your mind/soul doesn't age. It gets corrupted with 'intellect',
'philosophies', and 'education'. As we know, cell division error, aided by
free radicals, accumulates errors throughout the body as time passes. A
person of 80 obviously has more errors than that of 40. His tissues start to
fail, making his organs fail, then entire organ systems collapse, until life
is snuffed out.
Remember this inevitability. We all begin to die from the moment we are
born. Some do it faster than others. All we can do is enjoy our lives.
And I've always believed that 'Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you
don't mind , it doesn't matter'.
And I don't mind at all !
Received: from GCC at Globe Wireless;
Fri, 07 Nov 2008 05:27 UTC
Message-id: 397344450
'Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind , it doesn't
matter'.
Age , like beauty is in the eye of the beholder and the mind of the person.
Age is not related to time in the strictest sense just as beauty is not
related to symmetry (in the strictest sense).
Just a month ago ,we were loading propane and butane in Bandar Imam
Khomeini, in Iran. The port of BIK is deep inside , at the end of river
Mashrar .The entry to this river is very tricky and it requires intimate
knowledge of the tidal variations and its general geography .(bathymetry to
be precise)
Pilots , in the maritime sense are specialists who can pilot the vessel
safely through these tricky places. They are locals and ex-masters who have
thorough knowledge of local weather patterns and conditions and are
rigorously tested at a regular basis.
After an uneventful loading we set out to Fujairah to receive bunkers and
then head towards the discharge port.
During the outer pilotage ,I was on watch .
The river passage is a long one , taking up to five hours. So after the
un-berthing stations I wore my uniform and rushed up to the Navigating
Bridge to keep my watch.
The pilot , I noticed was very old. Classic silver haired mane , an Iranian
hawk like nose, a stooping back and an unflappable air of dignity around
him.
During pilotage , the Navigating Officer's main duty is to provide a link
between the Master and the Pilot and the Helmsman and track and monitor the
vessel and see that overall safety is not compromised.
Now , the pilot wanted to speak to me."Cadet ! " He tried to call me.
I corrected him that I was the third mate and not the cadet. But since he
had a feeble and grated voice as a result of years of smoking , I leaned in
towards him to hear him better.
With a flash of affection in his face , he stroked my chin !
Taken aback by his untoward gesture , I jerked back.
The awkwardness that had transpired in between us was over in moment and
the pilot regained his composure, (and I regained mine) and then with great
effort and a louder voice started talking to me. First he asked me my age,
then my experience as a navigating officer.I replied that I was 24. And this
was my second ship as a third mate, but I had done six ships so far .
Then , as is if he was talking to his grandchild , he started to
patronizingly advise me about the dangers of going to Somalia or the risks
of bedding loose women in different ports !
Hah !
Old Age was never a man's problem. Amitabh Bacchan got voted the sexiest
Indian superstar alive well in his sixties. Wrinkles may make a women old,
but on a man's face they add character. Women drool over the salt pepper
look of grey and black hair. Hey !, Hugh Hefner has five girlfriends at
eighty !
But what about being too young ?
Ah ! Now there's a problem.
Young age is a bane to all men. It declares to the world their immaturity &
inexperience.
Young age is Pure kryptonite to any young superman's psyche !
"How old are you ?" is the first question every port official asks me,
perhaps wondering if I'm ready to handle the enormous responsibilities of
being a navigating officer of a ship. After all the responsibility of the
ship staff's lives and their safety is placed on the third officer (at least
during his watch)
It's the combination of my ever breaking out skin and a rail thin body that
further enhances the illusion of youthful immaturity.
I know how to tackle this situation too. I comb my hair differently. Its
slicked all the way back ,like the hair of an Italian mobster. My ugly mug
sports constant 5'o'clock shadow.(which takes 2 days to grow !), and maybe
I'll take up smoking , so that my voice gets hoary and I can add a few
wrinkles on my face.
Hah ! Even I'm not that stupid enough to start smoking !
But I'm lucky.
My looks go after my dad's.
I'm going to age normally, unlike my mom !
My mom does not look 46.(ok ok . she is 47)
She is often mistaken for my elder sister.(who does not exist)
Mom is ageless. When she tells people she has a son, they assume he's still
at school. But disbelief hits hard when she reveals that her son is 24 years
old and a seasoned (salted?) sailor.
For comic effect , she makes me stand beside her when she is introducing me
to others.
Picture this.
I'm 5'9'' tall.
She's 5'2'' tall.
The sheer ridiculousness of the striking visual contrast of sizes makes jaws
drop and sputter inanities.
I recently met someone else who's ageless. Her problem is that she looks so
young that people don't realize that she's a surgeon...people don't treat
her with the seriousness that is usually reserved for a surgeon.(I must
admit that even I don't !)
Of course , I realized that she was indeed a rare find.
She too has somehow managed to tap into the fountain of eternal youth in
these days of global warming and pollution and inflated stress.
So , I hatched a plan to make her meet my mom. I just wanted to see the
chemistry between two people who are so similar yet so widely different.
Once they met , they hit it off exceedingly well. It was because although
they are very different , they share many common traits , which I believe is
their secret to agelessness.
Their secrets are (I think) :
A strict diet of healthy food.(both are vegetarians and very picky about the
food they eat),religious adherence to a personalized exercise routine, a
zest for life, an extremely positive outlook , strong sense of identity and
future goals, a large and varied social circle and the ability to find
happiness within oneself.
I know my mom's other secret.
She is afraid to die. Apart from bats it's the only other fear she has.
So she lives every day like she never has lived before. So absorbed in what
she does that nothing else matters... that nothing else exists.
So let this be a reminder to all you pill poppers, wrinkle
skin-cream users ,all you Botox addicts, chemical peelers and collagen and
silicone implanters: Age is not real. Your body doesn't get corrupted by
Time. It gets corrupted by cell division error and free radicals. In the
same manner, your mind/soul doesn't age. It gets corrupted with 'intellect',
'philosophies', and 'education'. As we know, cell division error, aided by
free radicals, accumulates errors throughout the body as time passes. A
person of 80 obviously has more errors than that of 40. His tissues start to
fail, making his organs fail, then entire organ systems collapse, until life
is snuffed out.
Remember this inevitability. We all begin to die from the moment we are
born. Some do it faster than others. All we can do is enjoy our lives.
And I've always believed that 'Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you
don't mind , it doesn't matter'.
And I don't mind at all !
Received: from GCC at Globe Wireless;
Fri, 07 Nov 2008 05:27 UTC
Message-id: 397344450
Monday, October 27, 2008
Happy Diwali !
Wishing you all a very happy Diwali.
Let the festival of lights
light up your world and
bring happiness and
banish ignorance !
Lets burst some crackers !
I miss being home right now L
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Tue, 28 Oct 2008 00:51 UTC
Message-id: 394805031S132
Let the festival of lights
light up your world and
bring happiness and
banish ignorance !
Lets burst some crackers !
I miss being home right now L
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Tue, 28 Oct 2008 00:51 UTC
Message-id: 394805031S132
Friday, October 24, 2008
So many things...
There are so many things I have to say.
So many things I have to write.
But right now there's no time,
no energy and most importantly
no drive.
I hope I get out of this rut soon,
And start doing what I love to do
Again.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 25 Oct 2008 02:10 UTC
Message-id: 394211501S126
So many things I have to write.
But right now there's no time,
no energy and most importantly
no drive.
I hope I get out of this rut soon,
And start doing what I love to do
Again.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 25 Oct 2008 02:10 UTC
Message-id: 394211501S126
Sunday, October 12, 2008
Honorable man
Although we were originally going towards shanghai and chiba, on a later
date the charterers decided that the ship will generate more profits if it
discharges in Tabangao.
So , in 3 more days , we'll in be in Tabangao, Phillipines.It's my second
time in Philippines. The first time was in a sleepy place called Mariveles.
The pinoy kabayan agree here "That place no good. Batangas much better"
they say .
Of course now that we are going to Batangas, they are ecstatic.
Nilo is the happiest one. Nilo is short for Leonilo Balita Espiritu.Come to
think of it , that's the shortest Filipino name I've come across. All the
other names are so long that they accommodate everything of your address ,
except possibly the pin code !
Come to think of it , these guys have multiple names. The real name(one
that's on the passport),pinoy nickname (e.g. pogi ), and Most Preferred
Name(or MPN)
For example , Bims (MPN) is actually Bimbonito (real name) also known as
pogi among his kabayan. I can understand why he wants his name shortened to
Bims(MPN). No one wants to be a Bimbo on a ship filled with sailors !
Oh yeah, Nilo is the happiest one because he actually lives in Batangas,
close to the jetty where we are scheduled to berth. He is understandably the
man of the hour, our savior, our guide ! Certain discreet arrangements have
been made and we will be treated well when we go ashore, Nilo has promised !
Of course ,while Nilo is going home , others have made their own
arrangements. Art (MPN) plans to talk on his cell phone all day , as it is a
local call for him.
Clint has negotiated a lengthy deal with his girlfriend's mom and finally
his Princesskatara is allowed to come onboard to visit him.(certain
conditions apply, certain promises were extracted, you know the deal).
He tells me that once his princess is on board, the biggest challenge is to
keep her away from other men. Especially his kabayan !
He also tells me that he wants to introduce her to me.
To put him at ease I tell him that I'm an honorable man with honorable
intentions.
This is where I cross my fingers and tell him about my 4 non-existent
girlfriends and a cozy love nest that we share back at home. His eyes become
saucers. He tells me how lucky I am. He asks me about my future plans. He
reiterates my unusual luckiness. With fingers still crossed I assure him
that juggling 4 girlfriends is very challenging. So I assure that his
princess is safe in my vicinity.
Poor Clint.
He has no Idea.
(Hmm.Should I insert an evil maniacal 'I-WILL-TAKE -OVER-THE-WORLD" laughter
here for added effect ?)
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Mon, 13 Oct 2008 01:54 UTC
Message-id: 391709745S384
date the charterers decided that the ship will generate more profits if it
discharges in Tabangao.
So , in 3 more days , we'll in be in Tabangao, Phillipines.It's my second
time in Philippines. The first time was in a sleepy place called Mariveles.
The pinoy kabayan agree here "That place no good. Batangas much better"
they say .
Of course now that we are going to Batangas, they are ecstatic.
Nilo is the happiest one. Nilo is short for Leonilo Balita Espiritu.Come to
think of it , that's the shortest Filipino name I've come across. All the
other names are so long that they accommodate everything of your address ,
except possibly the pin code !
Come to think of it , these guys have multiple names. The real name(one
that's on the passport),pinoy nickname (e.g. pogi ), and Most Preferred
Name(or MPN)
For example , Bims (MPN) is actually Bimbonito (real name) also known as
pogi among his kabayan. I can understand why he wants his name shortened to
Bims(MPN). No one wants to be a Bimbo on a ship filled with sailors !
Oh yeah, Nilo is the happiest one because he actually lives in Batangas,
close to the jetty where we are scheduled to berth. He is understandably the
man of the hour, our savior, our guide ! Certain discreet arrangements have
been made and we will be treated well when we go ashore, Nilo has promised !
Of course ,while Nilo is going home , others have made their own
arrangements. Art (MPN) plans to talk on his cell phone all day , as it is a
local call for him.
Clint has negotiated a lengthy deal with his girlfriend's mom and finally
his Princesskatara is allowed to come onboard to visit him.(certain
conditions apply, certain promises were extracted, you know the deal).
He tells me that once his princess is on board, the biggest challenge is to
keep her away from other men. Especially his kabayan !
He also tells me that he wants to introduce her to me.
To put him at ease I tell him that I'm an honorable man with honorable
intentions.
This is where I cross my fingers and tell him about my 4 non-existent
girlfriends and a cozy love nest that we share back at home. His eyes become
saucers. He tells me how lucky I am. He asks me about my future plans. He
reiterates my unusual luckiness. With fingers still crossed I assure him
that juggling 4 girlfriends is very challenging. So I assure that his
princess is safe in my vicinity.
Poor Clint.
He has no Idea.
(Hmm.Should I insert an evil maniacal 'I-WILL-TAKE -OVER-THE-WORLD" laughter
here for added effect ?)
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Mon, 13 Oct 2008 01:54 UTC
Message-id: 391709745S384
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Number Game
All my life I've been a 5.
I thought that that was my age , but then I found out that I was only four
years old.
So much for that theory.
Now look at 6.
He's been a 6 for almost twenty years. He came up all the way from being a
tiny 11.
Now look how big a 6 he has become now. His mama must be so proud of him.
But I wouldn't want to be 6 .It's not that I don't like being a 6 or
anything , but...well , actually its the company .
Have you heard about 7 ? Well , I never thought that in this day and age
people could do such a thing...that , you know , that cannibalism existed,
but from what I hear ,
7 8 9 !
Yup , heard that one from a reliable source.
Ever since that incident 10s are refusing to become 9s anymore !
Such a sad situation.
With the dire shortage of 9s in the market , 3s are finding a hard time
squaring off (or multiplying with oneself , if you must call it.)
Yes numbers indulge in squaring off from time to time.
What's the harm anyways ?
Now ever since it has been proven scientifically that squaring off
(multiplying with oneself, if you must call it) does not lead to blindness,
hair loss or acne as previously thought, I don't think you people should
frown at the act anymore.
After all it is with someone you love.
Also , I wanted to get something off my chest today.(apart from my chest
hair)
Fractions and decimals may not be like you and me , but they are numbers too
!
I strongly believe that they must be treated equally and with respect and
dignity that they deserve.
Sure decimals are a bit slow (on being less than whole) and fractions look
weird with number appendages hanging off them, but they are differently
abled, and we must have empathy for their situation.
Say No to numberism ! Say Yes to numeric equality !
What do I think of Imaginary numbers?
Of course , I don't believe in Imaginary numbers as such ,being an educated
number I would say that it is preposterous and scientifically invalidated
but I have met a few that claim to have seen them.(Yeah right , you have
seen the square root of negative one !)
Yeah , you must be wondering , what do I think of negatives ...Well ,
negatives are negatives .
Let them be.
If you understand their rules , then go ahead interact with them.
But remember , once you go negative, there's no going back !(unless you find
another negative who's willing to change you...but why would they ?)
So always keep some protection at hand.
Play safe !
But why am I rambling about my life here...
Well it's because I've been promoted !
I'm a 4 now !
Its an uphill task now that I'm a 4 now.
You're the new kid in town. People look at you differently. They have
different expectations.
A curvy 8 bombshell even winked at me and gave me her number(which was
8).Hoo boy !I think I'll enjoy being a 4.I'm gonna paint the whole town red
!
Of course being a 4 is not easy. There is a steep learning curve that has to
be mastered quickly. But ever since I was a 5 , I've been secretly learning
the ropes from 4 Sr., my mentor. He's a 3 now. I'm not sure he likes being
a prime odd number , but someone had to fill the spot as 2 passed away
prematurely.(2 was hell bent on proving that he is not the only even prime
number , and this obsession eventually drove him to suicide).
I'm sure the shortage of 9s is going to end soon and 3 will find some time
to relax and square off.
I once got a chance to meet 1.
He's very enlightened, you know.
I told him that my ultimate goal in life is to become 1, just like him...
...They say that one should aim for the stars , so that one (not 1) can at
least reach the moon, but I'm aiming to become number 1 all the way.
It's just that I don't know whether I'll live long enough to see the day
I'll become number 1 , because 1 has been there for so long , and 2 is very
young (as she became a 2 recently ) and then there is my mentor 3 , who I
swear my loyalty to...Come to think of it, I wouldn't want to be 2 for long.
Other numbers used to laugh at 2's back because he smelled funny all the
time. It wasn't his fault though. He smelled bad because of all the
unpleasant things associated with No.2.I'd be a 3 as soon as 3 became 2 and
then one day...
1 laughed at my immature ramblings. He told me that I reminded
him of his younger days. The days when he was brash, cocky and headstrong.
He told me that he was overambitious to a fault. All he wanted to be was a
1.(which he became directly from a 3 after overthrowing the old 1 in a
bloodless coup in the year of _.Refer to your high school history textbooks)
1 told me that the ultimate goal in everyone's life is to become a 0 , or
the nullification of self. It is an existence that is neither positive , nor
negative, and has the power to destroy any number or increase its value by
any factor. He says that being a 0 is existing and not existing at the same
time, being everything and nothing at the same time. It is a purely
metaphysical state of existence, in a higher state of energy, one that does
not suffer from any wants or needs or pains or suffering.
1 talked to me about the process of nullification of self.
Well I may not have understood him fully, but I thought eventually all
numbers became 0.That eventual nullification of self (or death as you call
it) is inevitable.
But 1 told me that that kind of nullification is not the end. It is just
one phase of a very long and endless iteration. He also told me about
eventuality and causality of all things in life.
The goal , he told me is to stop the endless iteration of 0 to infinity and
infinity to 0.
He told me that the secret is in knowing the difference between knowing the
path and walking the path. There was a critical gap between knowing and
being, according to him, and finding it out was all that mattered. He told
me sadly that although he knew all about 0, he did not how to be one or how
to achieve the state of nullification of self.
At this point , I started drifting away.1 is a great guy. He's a bit old,
and a bit preoccupied ,but I couldn't stop smiling as I saw the sultry 8
winking at me. She has a reputation of being a man-eater (like 7),but I'm
taking my chances on her. We are going to make a very beautiful 32 together
, I hope.
Things are going to be pretty interesting from now.
And Of course , one day I'm gonna be 1.
The 1.
Only 1.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Thu, 09 Oct 2008 12:56 UTC
Message-id: 391011911S179
I thought that that was my age , but then I found out that I was only four
years old.
So much for that theory.
Now look at 6.
He's been a 6 for almost twenty years. He came up all the way from being a
tiny 11.
Now look how big a 6 he has become now. His mama must be so proud of him.
But I wouldn't want to be 6 .It's not that I don't like being a 6 or
anything , but...well , actually its the company .
Have you heard about 7 ? Well , I never thought that in this day and age
people could do such a thing...that , you know , that cannibalism existed,
but from what I hear ,
7 8 9 !
Yup , heard that one from a reliable source.
Ever since that incident 10s are refusing to become 9s anymore !
Such a sad situation.
With the dire shortage of 9s in the market , 3s are finding a hard time
squaring off (or multiplying with oneself , if you must call it.)
Yes numbers indulge in squaring off from time to time.
What's the harm anyways ?
Now ever since it has been proven scientifically that squaring off
(multiplying with oneself, if you must call it) does not lead to blindness,
hair loss or acne as previously thought, I don't think you people should
frown at the act anymore.
After all it is with someone you love.
Also , I wanted to get something off my chest today.(apart from my chest
hair)
Fractions and decimals may not be like you and me , but they are numbers too
!
I strongly believe that they must be treated equally and with respect and
dignity that they deserve.
Sure decimals are a bit slow (on being less than whole) and fractions look
weird with number appendages hanging off them, but they are differently
abled, and we must have empathy for their situation.
Say No to numberism ! Say Yes to numeric equality !
What do I think of Imaginary numbers?
Of course , I don't believe in Imaginary numbers as such ,being an educated
number I would say that it is preposterous and scientifically invalidated
but I have met a few that claim to have seen them.(Yeah right , you have
seen the square root of negative one !)
Yeah , you must be wondering , what do I think of negatives ...Well ,
negatives are negatives .
Let them be.
If you understand their rules , then go ahead interact with them.
But remember , once you go negative, there's no going back !(unless you find
another negative who's willing to change you...but why would they ?)
So always keep some protection at hand.
Play safe !
But why am I rambling about my life here...
Well it's because I've been promoted !
I'm a 4 now !
Its an uphill task now that I'm a 4 now.
You're the new kid in town. People look at you differently. They have
different expectations.
A curvy 8 bombshell even winked at me and gave me her number(which was
8).Hoo boy !I think I'll enjoy being a 4.I'm gonna paint the whole town red
!
Of course being a 4 is not easy. There is a steep learning curve that has to
be mastered quickly. But ever since I was a 5 , I've been secretly learning
the ropes from 4 Sr., my mentor. He's a 3 now. I'm not sure he likes being
a prime odd number , but someone had to fill the spot as 2 passed away
prematurely.(2 was hell bent on proving that he is not the only even prime
number , and this obsession eventually drove him to suicide).
I'm sure the shortage of 9s is going to end soon and 3 will find some time
to relax and square off.
I once got a chance to meet 1.
He's very enlightened, you know.
I told him that my ultimate goal in life is to become 1, just like him...
...They say that one should aim for the stars , so that one (not 1) can at
least reach the moon, but I'm aiming to become number 1 all the way.
It's just that I don't know whether I'll live long enough to see the day
I'll become number 1 , because 1 has been there for so long , and 2 is very
young (as she became a 2 recently ) and then there is my mentor 3 , who I
swear my loyalty to...Come to think of it, I wouldn't want to be 2 for long.
Other numbers used to laugh at 2's back because he smelled funny all the
time. It wasn't his fault though. He smelled bad because of all the
unpleasant things associated with No.2.I'd be a 3 as soon as 3 became 2 and
then one day...
1 laughed at my immature ramblings. He told me that I reminded
him of his younger days. The days when he was brash, cocky and headstrong.
He told me that he was overambitious to a fault. All he wanted to be was a
1.(which he became directly from a 3 after overthrowing the old 1 in a
bloodless coup in the year of _.Refer to your high school history textbooks)
1 told me that the ultimate goal in everyone's life is to become a 0 , or
the nullification of self. It is an existence that is neither positive , nor
negative, and has the power to destroy any number or increase its value by
any factor. He says that being a 0 is existing and not existing at the same
time, being everything and nothing at the same time. It is a purely
metaphysical state of existence, in a higher state of energy, one that does
not suffer from any wants or needs or pains or suffering.
1 talked to me about the process of nullification of self.
Well I may not have understood him fully, but I thought eventually all
numbers became 0.That eventual nullification of self (or death as you call
it) is inevitable.
But 1 told me that that kind of nullification is not the end. It is just
one phase of a very long and endless iteration. He also told me about
eventuality and causality of all things in life.
The goal , he told me is to stop the endless iteration of 0 to infinity and
infinity to 0.
He told me that the secret is in knowing the difference between knowing the
path and walking the path. There was a critical gap between knowing and
being, according to him, and finding it out was all that mattered. He told
me sadly that although he knew all about 0, he did not how to be one or how
to achieve the state of nullification of self.
At this point , I started drifting away.1 is a great guy. He's a bit old,
and a bit preoccupied ,but I couldn't stop smiling as I saw the sultry 8
winking at me. She has a reputation of being a man-eater (like 7),but I'm
taking my chances on her. We are going to make a very beautiful 32 together
, I hope.
Things are going to be pretty interesting from now.
And Of course , one day I'm gonna be 1.
The 1.
Only 1.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Thu, 09 Oct 2008 12:56 UTC
Message-id: 391011911S179
Sunday, October 5, 2008
Note To Self
Learning "how to become what you are" [in Nietzsche's
phrase] takes a lifetime, but it still seems the best game in town.
Patience.
Saturday, October 4, 2008
If Its Easy
If its easy to be impressed by someone, then don't be.
Dig deeper.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 05 Oct 2008 05:54 UTC
Message-id: 389940777S372
Dig deeper.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sun, 05 Oct 2008 05:54 UTC
Message-id: 389940777S372
Friday, October 3, 2008
Time is Fluid
Have you ever noticed
the antinomy
in the dichotomy
That as days drag on,
weeks fly past ?
Time is fluid,
see it flow.
Have you noticed that
Months trudge ahead
as years flit away ?
Time is fluid
see it flow.
Sometimes quick,
sometimes slow.
Time is fluid, realize this.
And when we say
that times have changed,
is it we
who have changed the most ?
"Time is fluid here"
Many out at sea will attest to this fact. Time doesn't
work the same at sea like ashore. Every day seems longer than twenty four
hours but before you know it
, weeks have passed away !
Really...out at sea , under the endless skies and the
stars (a phrase I seem to overuse !),when you have all the time in the
world and don't know what to
do...that is when you realize...that Time , like any other unit of
measurement is only a perception and being so , is easily manipulated by
the observer. Most of us do it
unconsciously. We are not aware that we are stretching time, or shortening
it or sometimes bending it to suit our map of reality.
As a famous man with pointy hair once said "Time is relative"
I always wished I had a good comeback ready for that.
I didn't believe in living in the present. As a kid , I thought it was
something literally impossible to do.
I used to argue
"Living in the present is such a fallacy !"
"You want to live in the present ?"
"Here's a moment on its way...wait for it...wait for
it...wait for it...oops ! There it goes !"
"Let's try that again..."
"Here's a moment once again...wait for it...wait for
it...wait for it...oops ! There it goes again..."
"Did you see it ?"
"Let's try that again...I'm kidding !"
Let's face it. The present moment is so brief and fleetingly infinitesimal
that it slips away before one can grasp at it.
It is one of the most profound and perplexing conundrums the consciousness
can face. (caution: Excessive Alliteration ahead !)
We are trapped between memories of the past and anticipation of the future.
Both nonexistent, both intangible !
As the cliche goes "Now is all you have"
(Quick !Here's another cliche :"Love is all you need")
It wasn't until I experienced being in the present that I realized that
Being in the Present was possible.
It was at a carnatic music concert hosted by Flautist Extraordinaire Praveen
Godkindi. When they began , the music was so powerful, so overwhelmingly
beautiful , that I simply lost myself. The music was simply too delicious
for me to relive my past or invent my future. I was there , at the then.
Then and there came together and it was a profound moment of realization of
the loss of ego and being totally in the present.
You can do it too.
Eckhart Tolle , author of 'Power Of Now' suggests that this is the key:
'End the delusion of time. Time and mind are inseparable. Remove time from
the mind and it stops - unless you choose to use it. To be identified with
your mind is to be trapped in time: the compulsion to live almost
exclusively through memory and anticipation. This creates an endless
preoccupation with past and future and an unwillingness to honor and
acknowledge the resent moment and allow it to be. The compulsion arises
because the past gives you an identity and the future holds the promise of
salvation, of fulfillment in whatever form. Both are illusions'
For the uninitiated, living in the present can be excruciating. On
the ship we go through long intervals of time, where one has to notice
everything around him and every minute has to be accounted for. Especially
during tricky river passages or potentially dangerous ship to ship
transfers.
For people who are not used to it, this forced awareness of each and every
passing moment causes extreme mental distress and unbearable physical
fatigue.
This is where one has to have a single minded laser like
concentration. But there is a caveat against this single minded
concentration though. One cannot develop tunnel vision syndrome and filter
out other important information during these critical times. Especially in
transit through the busy Singapore straits or while traversing through the
foggy river of shanghai , one should aim for a scattered concentration, a
geometrical expanding volume-like thinking ,instead of the standard linear
thinking we are taught
elsewhere. It is an exhausting and draining Zen experience which we sailors
shake off by taking power naps.
Come to think of it , the whole essence of Zen consists in walking
along the razor's edge of Now - to be so utterly, so completely present that
no problem, no
suffering, nothing that is not who you are in your essence, can survive in
you. In the Now, in the absence of time, all your problems dissolve.
Suffering needs time; it cannot survive in the Now.
As the cliche goes...Now is all you have.
So if history repeats and a famous man with pointy hair says once again that
"Time is relative"...
Then I'd say "So is my mother-in-law, but what can I do about it
?"
(you can applaud now !)
Word of the day:
Antinomy(n) - A contradiction between two statements that seem equally
reasonable.
Dichotomy(n) - Being twofold; a classification into two opposed parts or
subclasses.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 04 Oct 2008 03:49 UTC
Message-id: 389757137S317
the antinomy
in the dichotomy
That as days drag on,
weeks fly past ?
Time is fluid,
see it flow.
Have you noticed that
Months trudge ahead
as years flit away ?
Time is fluid
see it flow.
Sometimes quick,
sometimes slow.
Time is fluid, realize this.
And when we say
that times have changed,
is it we
who have changed the most ?
"Time is fluid here"
Many out at sea will attest to this fact. Time doesn't
work the same at sea like ashore. Every day seems longer than twenty four
hours but before you know it
, weeks have passed away !
Really...out at sea , under the endless skies and the
stars (a phrase I seem to overuse !),when you have all the time in the
world and don't know what to
do...that is when you realize...that Time , like any other unit of
measurement is only a perception and being so , is easily manipulated by
the observer. Most of us do it
unconsciously. We are not aware that we are stretching time, or shortening
it or sometimes bending it to suit our map of reality.
As a famous man with pointy hair once said "Time is relative"
I always wished I had a good comeback ready for that.
I didn't believe in living in the present. As a kid , I thought it was
something literally impossible to do.
I used to argue
"Living in the present is such a fallacy !"
"You want to live in the present ?"
"Here's a moment on its way...wait for it...wait for
it...wait for it...oops ! There it goes !"
"Let's try that again..."
"Here's a moment once again...wait for it...wait for
it...wait for it...oops ! There it goes again..."
"Did you see it ?"
"Let's try that again...I'm kidding !"
Let's face it. The present moment is so brief and fleetingly infinitesimal
that it slips away before one can grasp at it.
It is one of the most profound and perplexing conundrums the consciousness
can face. (caution: Excessive Alliteration ahead !)
We are trapped between memories of the past and anticipation of the future.
Both nonexistent, both intangible !
As the cliche goes "Now is all you have"
(Quick !Here's another cliche :"Love is all you need")
It wasn't until I experienced being in the present that I realized that
Being in the Present was possible.
It was at a carnatic music concert hosted by Flautist Extraordinaire Praveen
Godkindi. When they began , the music was so powerful, so overwhelmingly
beautiful , that I simply lost myself. The music was simply too delicious
for me to relive my past or invent my future. I was there , at the then.
Then and there came together and it was a profound moment of realization of
the loss of ego and being totally in the present.
You can do it too.
Eckhart Tolle , author of 'Power Of Now' suggests that this is the key:
'End the delusion of time. Time and mind are inseparable. Remove time from
the mind and it stops - unless you choose to use it. To be identified with
your mind is to be trapped in time: the compulsion to live almost
exclusively through memory and anticipation. This creates an endless
preoccupation with past and future and an unwillingness to honor and
acknowledge the resent moment and allow it to be. The compulsion arises
because the past gives you an identity and the future holds the promise of
salvation, of fulfillment in whatever form. Both are illusions'
For the uninitiated, living in the present can be excruciating. On
the ship we go through long intervals of time, where one has to notice
everything around him and every minute has to be accounted for. Especially
during tricky river passages or potentially dangerous ship to ship
transfers.
For people who are not used to it, this forced awareness of each and every
passing moment causes extreme mental distress and unbearable physical
fatigue.
This is where one has to have a single minded laser like
concentration. But there is a caveat against this single minded
concentration though. One cannot develop tunnel vision syndrome and filter
out other important information during these critical times. Especially in
transit through the busy Singapore straits or while traversing through the
foggy river of shanghai , one should aim for a scattered concentration, a
geometrical expanding volume-like thinking ,instead of the standard linear
thinking we are taught
elsewhere. It is an exhausting and draining Zen experience which we sailors
shake off by taking power naps.
Come to think of it , the whole essence of Zen consists in walking
along the razor's edge of Now - to be so utterly, so completely present that
no problem, no
suffering, nothing that is not who you are in your essence, can survive in
you. In the Now, in the absence of time, all your problems dissolve.
Suffering needs time; it cannot survive in the Now.
As the cliche goes...Now is all you have.
So if history repeats and a famous man with pointy hair says once again that
"Time is relative"...
Then I'd say "So is my mother-in-law, but what can I do about it
?"
(you can applaud now !)
Word of the day:
Antinomy(n) - A contradiction between two statements that seem equally
reasonable.
Dichotomy(n) - Being twofold; a classification into two opposed parts or
subclasses.
Received: from C6XB2 at Globe Wireless; Sat, 04 Oct 2008 03:49 UTC
Message-id: 389757137S317
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