Music and Singing!

Hearing is my preferred way of taking in and interpreting information. That's something I have been aware of from a long time.

During college days, I learnt by hearing professors in classes. I preferred discussing my doubts out.  I found group study more powerful.  I loved music and my taste has increased and become varied over time.

Sometime back, I learnt something new about myself.

I realized that breathing deep and slow, singing, listening to right kind of music, and dancing are my stress busters. I also realized that bad food is a stress increaser.

I found piece about singing strange. I used to learn singing when I was a kid but then I had given it up.

But then over last few months, whenever I have sung (albeit in a croaked voice) i've felt powered and re-aligned.

Interesting!

What are your stress busters?

-
Sourav

Keep Walking!

She held my hand and said 'Thank you son!'

I felt touched. We didn't know each other. We had chanced across each other a few minutes earlier.

--

I was about to cross road when I had noticed her standing beside me.

She was thin and frail. She had a bent posture and looked weak. There were creases on her face and I could discern her veins through her crumpled skin.

But still there was something captivating about her. A silent but perceptible determination emanated from every inch of her demeanor. I looked at her rapt in attention.

Suddenly I heard sound of screeching brakes. A car zoomed past me and almost ran her over. She didn't have time to react. The tyres of car missed her feet by inches. The car sped away.

She was shaken. Her stuff had been run over. She was trembling.

Instinctively I stopped the cars behind me and ran over to help her. I picked up her stuff, waved down a rickshaw, led her to rickshaw, gave rickshawwallah some money, and asked him to drop her wherever she wanted to.

That's when she held my hands and said 'thank you son'.

--

I could not get her off my mind that evening and even next day. Her determination and genuineness of her thank you stayed with me. Probably I contrasted it with the other interactions I usually had in a day.

The next day wore by. I was sipping on my evening cup of tea. I looked out on street. I saw her. She was walking again – with a slightly bent posture, gingery steps, and a steely determination.  She was carrying a bag of food that seemed too heavy for her.

I was tempted to rush and help her but I desisted. She seemed to manage on her own. Did she even want my help?

I wondered ´What alis her? She must be 80/90 years old.´

-

Over last year I have seen her walking in neighborhood a number of times. I chance upon her walking sometimes at 7 am and other times at 11 p.m too. Everytime I find her frailer, her posture more bent, but her spirit more determined.

I often wonder ' Doesn´t she need rest? Why does she keep on walking? '

Maybe I have answered my own question. She walks because there is no alternative.

She knows it and is determined to walk her path.

Everytime I see her I wonder why I sometimes lack courage/energy to choose and walk my path.

We must walk. Only choice is 'which path do we walk on?'

I am reminded of two of my favorite quotes

·         'The more I sweat the more I shine',

·         'Walk firmly and placidly amidst noise and haste'.

 

-
Sourav

What do you want today?

Choices, choices, and more choices!

With so many choices around, what do we finally choose?

But Hey! Hold on! That's not the question I want to explore today.

I want to explore 'What kind of choices do we choose -  experience, consumption, or creation?'

I find world anchored around money. That's what makes us bury our differences and attempt to come together; that's also what makes us move far and away (in most cases away from near and dear ones) in search of money - aka livelihood.

I'm not saying money is bad! Money is a fact of life!

What we do with our money and what money does to us - those are things we can control!

Let me ask you a question. Will you want to be remembered even when you are not there? 

Maybe you want to be remembered by a large group of people, or just by friends, or just by your family members. But this want of being ´remembered through something/someone´ usually seems to be there in some form or the other.

What will you be remembered for? For what you consumed/experienced/created?

Chances are you will be remembered for what you created. That´s what resonates with me too!
 

The same holds true for the differences we make in our relationships. A son will probably remember his mother fondly because she would have created so many happy memories for him.

I want to live a fulfilled life.

Sustained fulfillment comes from creation!

-
Sourav

Learning Languages!

Do you need to know local language to speak with locals in a new country? Maybe not! 

Does it help to speak the local language?  

I hear the answer is country specific, e.g. – in France, an outsider has a better chance of receiving help if he speaks English as compared to bad French– and similarly perfect French as compared to English. But in Germany, supposedly, they appreciate the efforts made by an outsider to speak German (even if it is bad German). Same holds true supposedly in Latin American countries.

Over last year, I´ve been trying to learn a few languages.  I realize I may not be able to speak them as fluently as a local can, but then while learning the languages I also get to learn a lot about the country, e.g. – Ojala is a Spanish term that is used to start sentences that talk of wish. Ojala is Spanish way of saying Oh Allah! Spaniards were ruled by Arabs for 100-200 years in early 1000s, and their influence can still be found in Spanish language and customs.

So having determined that I would want to learn a few languages, next question is - what is best way to learn a language?  

The answer lies in objective, which in most cases, is understanding what someone is saying, understanding what is written, and being able to communicate in that language.

While it´s easier to be able to read and write a language, it is much tougher to hold a conversation and to comprehend what is being said.

But an attempt must be made in communicating and comprehending spoken word- else learning is incomplete.

I tried learning Spanish for over a year – only to realize that I was not comprehending perfectly what was being said.

Over last few months, I have started listening to Spanish podcasts regularly. My comprehension of and my ability to hold a conversation in Spanish have increased significantly.

So you would understand my joy when in Washington DC, Megha and I gave directions to a Spanish family (none of members could speak English) in Spanish. The man in the family was touched – he looked me in the eye and thanked me profusely – the family had been trying to get the directions for quite sometime without much success.

I wish I could have shared with him how happy I was to have held a conversation in Spanish with a Spaniard in a foreign land and help him out. :)

-

Sourav

Walks

Let´s go for a walk?

Walks are something I have almost always been game for. I´ve been attached to them since childhood - moving around aimlessly, sharing a few cups of tea, and laughing over unimportant trifles.

Mom, dad, sis, and me used to go for post dinner walks.  I used to love looking at different shapes, shades, and positions of moon. I used to compare different stars on sky and wonder how far off they might be.

Ironically, I used to enjoy looking up at sky and around when there were power cuts. The neighborhood used to be shrouded in darkness, but you could make out silhouettes of buildings, trees, & people in moonlight.  We used to play game of guessing name of person passing by on the road.   Sometimes we used to bump into friends on road and talk for hours – anyways we could not do anything back at home.

Sis and me used to walk a few kms to main road to board school bus in morning and walk back same few kms home in evening.

These walks again were more than just walks. 

There were times when I was oblivious to sounds and visuals around me. I used to tune into myself, with a thousand thoughts & emotions running through my head and heart.

There were times I used to be cued in to visuals/sounds around me– a mother managing her ghunghat and making rotis on a chullah, serenity of an old man sitting on his haunches beneath a tree and smoking hukkah,  swaying gait of green coloured coal dumpers (trucks)  spewing dust as they passed by, chit chat from shop of road side chai wallah (aah! Chai in those typical glasses or in matkas- bhaad in Bengali),  smell of shingaras (samosas), pandemonium from  kids playing kit-kit or marbles on road, and braying of cows grazing in nearby fields.  I used to observe everything and nothing in particular.  I just felt connected to everything around me.  There was this feeling of – this is life!

What were chances I would not keep on walking in college? Obviously, none!

I loved the fact that hostels were 3-4 kms away from study blocks. I loved walks through the meandering small roads inside campus and on beach next to college.  I used to go to lighthouse by beach in night, observing ships coming into and departing from Mangalore port. I used to imagine how life of a sailor might be like- cooking up stories in my head. My heart used to yearn to go into unknown territories and experience world.

What were chances I would not keep on walking when I started off with traveling world? Obviously, none! :)

Wherever I go, I walk and walk. I observe mundane things around me and the people around. It makes me feel connected, and gives me an opportunity to talk to them and understand their world.

I feel a bit attached to Bandra (in Mumbai), where I live, because I have walked so much there. I once walked from Vakola (where my office was) to Bandra (where I lived) in rains. I was drenched, it was windy, roads were surprisingly a bit empty, and my heart was joyous.

Nowadays, I go out for walks in Bandra without a specific direction in mind. I chance upon unkown and strange corners and streets, and sometimes encounter interesting people.   

Some months back I restarted jogging . But then I slowed myself down. Now I do a fast walking jog. I feel much more in tune with myself and with those around me. I am left rejuvenated by end of each jogging session.

Walks and Tea are my life givers!

I must share how Megha and I actually met. We walked for around 25 hours, drank lots of tea, and talked a lot. And we weren´t tired by end of it.

Walking seems to take me places! :)

-

Sourav

Monsoons!

Yesterday, I walked out of office and smelt moistness in air. It, obviously, was raining!

I was a bit intrigued – I don´t associate rains with Hyderabad. I am used to amiable weather of Mumbai over weekends and experiencing perennial hot air of Hyderabad over weekdays.

I felt happy – monsoon is a seasons i´ve always enjoyed.  I felt ecstatic over next 80 minutes as I made my way back home half hanging out from a rickshaw wading through waterlogged roads. There was this sense of freedom all around.

Today, evening has been chilly. It´s drizzling and the guard tells me that this is the way it´s going to be for next 1/2 months.  If rains are all that I have to experience, I should be working out of Mumbai for next 2 months. I´ll atleast be able to do everything from comfort of my home, knowing well that electricity would never go off. Yeah I know about gated community concept in Hyderabad- and advantages of having a generator but Mumbai has spoilt my habits. I´m used to no power cuts.

But hold on! When I started writing this post, I didn´t intend to compare Mumbai and Hyderabad. I´m just in mood to reminisce different memories I have about monsoons.

Kalboishakhi – ever heard of term? Winds make a howling noise, Dust- storms encircle you and hurl  pebbles all around. Trunks and branches of tall trees bend down towards the ground. Rains come pelting down. Lightning thunders in sky. Soon, dustry leaves and flowers of trees start looking cleaner and fresher. Mother Earth smells fresh. Storm lasts for about an hour  and brings life to a standstill. But no  one complaints- as Kalboishakhi in Bengal (and for that matter Eastern part of country) ushers in change from one season  to other. Kalboishaki is harbinger of change – it gives reassurance to soult that next seasons is on its way.

Sometimes Kalboishakhi comes in form of a hailstorm. Ice pellets shower from sky. I remember facing a hailstorm once while returning from school. Every vehicle on GT Road (equivalent to a National Highway) stopped commuting for about an hour .Visibility was near zero and the ice pellets threatened to smash windows of bus I was in. Some of us ventured out from school bus and played hide and seek with the hailstorm – trying to protect ourselves from ice pellets but also trying to catch them.

Ice is anyways something I´ve always loved.  During school days, at end of summers I used to feel bad about not being able to have 50 paise per piece Pepsi ice candies. I used to save pocket money to ensure I could have 1 Pepsi candy everyday. Do you get those candies anymore? I don´t know!

For college, I moved to Mangalore – on Western Coast. There were only 2 seasons there– it rained or it didn´t rain! When it rained, it was cold, When it didn´t rain, it was pleasant.  Once it started raining (in June), it rained until October. Once it stopped raining in October, it didn´t rain till May.  

When it rained no umbrella could save you! Winds were strong and large rain drops pelted down. Arabian sea looked beautiful but also ushered into land strong winds and dark clouds. Initially I tried using umbrellas but to no avail. They were ravaged by winds – some broke and others tore. Then, I tried using raincoats – Duckback types you find in most parts of India!   Raingods were out to prove again that I was naïve.

One day I landed up with 2 friends in Mangalore (Hampankatta area) carrying our raincoats. It started raining heavily around afternoon. We desperately looked around for a bus to get back to college. We didn´t want to be stranded on streets of Mangalore, in case roads got flooded (in hindsight I never saw Mangalore flooded in 4 years I was there). We had to wait for more than an hour to get a bus. By then, my raincoat had been ripped apart at shoulder lining by pelting raindrops.  

Finally, I found a solution.  I bought a red sweater cum raincoat. Raincoat on outside and sweater on inside. I still have this red colour sweater raincoat with me. I´ve never had to use it post 2003. But I think I still on to this fairly bulky raincoat as i´ve some memories associated with it.

For work, I landed up in Mumbai.- city of dreams, spirits, and incessant monsoon rains. Initially, I thought ´I am back to west coast of India. There must only be 2 seasons – it rains or it doesn´t rain. And yes! It must be raining hard here but then it must be draining out fast too- the way it did in Mangalore.´ Well! First time I faced rains in Mumbai was on 26^th July 2005. I was in office and saw those around me getting worked up. Someone said ´Harbour line´s gone down!´. Soon someone soon pitched in ´Central Line´s gone down too and we hear Western line is on verge of going down.´ I was a bit bemused.  And then they announced the office closed at 4 p.m.  I was happy as I could go home earlier. But alas, I walked for 6 hours that night and I didn´t even cover 5 kms´.

Living in Mumbai, got me used to rains. Last weekend I saw onsite of monsoons in Mumbai. The sea at Bandstand was angry – waves ravaged coast and made a hissing sound; water almost broke banks. One evening my umbrella was almost blown away by the strong winds – dejavu of Mangalore days. One day I just sat at home and saw the raindrops on window panes, the trees swaying to strong winds, and incessant monsoon traffic jams on road. I felt happy and serene but as, any true Mumbaikaar, hoped that it would be sunny on Monday morning (so that my flight would take off on time).

So I landed up in Hyderabad yesterday. After a busy day´s work I walked out of office and instantaneously realized something was different. How could I miss it? Air was hot no more. There was a drizzle and air felt crisp and fresh. I was a bit surprised! Hyderabad- heat and dust is what i´ve associated with this city till now.  I felt happy – rains always do make me feel like that. Roads yesterday were waterlogged  but deft autorickshaw guys found a way through all the mess . Rickshaw ride, getting wet in the rain,  and hot milky cup of sugar overloaded tea made my day yesterday.  I hear rains last for about 2 months in Hyderabad. I would not want so much adventure on road everyday. Probably it´s time to use work from home option more frequently.

But there´s something about monsoons I miss. Smell of freshly wet earth! Sight of rows of fresh green paddy fields!

Well I think it´s time for a trip back to Bengal. Mommy and Dadddy –here I come! Let chaa, beguni, and singhada´s make again our candle light conversations beat gloom of inevitable monsoon power cuts! J

-

Sourav

Second Hand Markets!

What used things would you want to buy?

I love to buy used books. I love old rusty smell of yellowing pages. I fancy reading tidbits previous owner/s scribbled on pages; giving me a sense of how s/he felt reading it.

I´ve always found old book sellers wherever I’ve been in India.

During school days, I used to look forward to Kolkata visits – picking up books from revered and hallowed 2^nd hand book stalls in College Street and from much smaller book stalls in Gariahat market. You could buy the books, read them, and sell them back.

During stopover in Chennai while travelling to/from college, I used to pick up 5-10 books from book resellers around Chennai station. It used to be difficult negotiating with them, but I managed to get a few bargains.

In 2000s, in Mumbai I found solace in roadside book resellers in Churchgate. I don´t know why they were chased away by police soon. You don´t see book resellers anymore flanking footpaths around Churchgate station.

But then, Strand Book festival did come to my rescue. I could pick up large number of different kinds of books at dirt cheap prices. But smell of old and yellowing pages- I missed that!

Will I want to buy any used thing besides books? No, I don´t think so.

I know 2^nd hand cars are available in India, but I would want to have my own brand new car. I could probably go to Marathalli market in Bangalore or Loot shops to find clothes that have miniscule manufacturing defects. But I certainly won´t buy used clothes or even used furniture (there is an emerging online 2^nd hand furniture market in India) for that matter.

Not long back, there was a flourishing market for 2^nd hand mobile phones and computers. But with Micromax phones and crashing desktop prices, everyone seems to fancy a new set.

So, to cut a long story short, I value reading used books but don´t value/fancy buying any other used stuff. In India, this also gets reflected in nascent/non-existent 2^nd hands market for used goods.

So, you might understand my surprise when I found flourishing seconds market for almost anything and everything in South-East Asia. You see branded cars (Mercs, Toyotas, Hondas, Daewoos, Hyundai) on roads in Cambodia. Almost all of them are used cars imported from Korea and Japan. There are dedicated seconds markets in Phnom Penh – selling used shoes, clothes, furniture, bedsheets, etc.

Night Markets (I am still not sure why they need it) in South-East Asia is another place where you see number of second hand stalls.  Second hand markets may be an indication of limited financial resources available in a region/country.  

2^nd hand markets may also be a place for rich. Famous ´antiques ´ markets in Paris (French seem to live in glory of their past) are thronged by rich.

Cambodia is a country that is still emerging from scars of its recent past. Recycling is another aspect I found country unique in. I found a leading bag brand (Smateria) that advertises its products as being made from completely recycled waste material. I also found them a number of shops that made household goods from recycled materials.  Cambodia seems to have made a virtue of recycling.

Well! That reminds me. People from poor countries don´t necessarily feel that they are resource crunched. I picked up a conversation with my travel guide while travelling from Vientiane to Lao Talat (a village market in Laos). He was telling me about eating habits of people in Laos. I found it strange that vegetable market in a village should assemble everyday. It´s unlike ´Haats´ of India - which congregate  about once a week.  He answered ´We like to eat our food fresh. We buy our vegetables/fruits everyday. One of reasons you won´t find too many refrigerators around in Laos. We cook our food and eat the entire amount the same day. When we keep it in fridge, it remains fresh no more.´ As per UN statistics, Laos is one of poorest countries in world – who would say that? J

-

Sourav

Mi blog primero en español!

Hola! Que pasa!

Bienvenido(a) a mi blog!

Hoy estoy muy feliz!  Estoy publicando mi blog primera en español. 

A lo mejor haré unos errores en la gramática en este blog. Pero no me importa!  

Después estudiando español por seis mes, por ultimo, puedo escribir unos párrafos en español.

Hoy, no escribiendo mucho.

Justo,  quiero mostrar mi progreso en este lengua.

Eso todo por hoy. Escribiré más pronto.

Gracias! :)

-

Sourav

Prayers

Over a period of time I have carried a self-image that I am not very religious, though during school/college days I used to daily offer my prayers.

But this was also driven by the fact that mom always has offered pujas daily at home. Sister and I grew up expecting and looking forward to the scents of the incense sticks, the ringing of the puja bell, and the taste of ‘Kola’ (Banana) and ‘Batasha’ (a concentrated sugar sweet-cake).

But over last 6-7 years, this habit of mine started fading.

About 2 years back, I remember this period when I used to hear Akshat/Jaison/others in Danceworx saying ‘Try being in the zone. Pack your worldly worries (from school/college/work) in a bag and leave this bag outside the  class when you come in. You can pick up the bag again when you leave class.’  What they said resonated with me. I used to find it difficult to switch off from work during weekday evening classes.  So I used to be ‘there’ in dance class, but not be ‘there’.

On a certain Wednesday in 2009, I had a class at 6:15 p.m. I had had a tiring day at work – and mentally was fatigued. While walking towards class, I stopped by at the nearby St. Peter’s Church (Bandra, Hill Road)– I am still not sure why i stopped but I did. I sat inside the church for about 10 minutes with my eyes closed. I felt less heavy as minutes passed by, and more ‘with myself’. I left the church feeling more ‘zoned in’.

Over next few months, I would drop in to St. Peter’s church at times. Every time I had this sensation of becoming more ‘zoned in’ and ‘with myself’.

I have started following a routine, over last few months, on  Saturdays. Megha and I walk up to Mount Mary Church,  sit inside the church for some 5-10 minutes, and offer our prayers. We then walk up to Mother Mary’s statue opposite the church.  I again offer prayers to Mother Mary and then do a very Hindu thing – extend my hands out to the lit up candles and then touch my head with my palms. I repeat this routine 3 times.

I have started looking forward to this ‘Saturday walk/ritual’. I have been wondering ‘Why?’!

While I was growing up, I used to look forward to offering prayers as it gave me confidence that someone’s there to make things right for me.

Over last few years, I feel more with myself everytime I visit a church or temple.  I start becoming aware of sensation of my breath, beating of my heart, warmth I experience from candles, and movement of my hair thanks to the occasional breeze. 

I value this experience. I feel more ‘centered‘ and ‘grounded’ every time, by the time I am back home after ‘Saturday walk’.

I wonder ‘Why can’t I experience this feeling of being centered and grounded everyday?’.

-

Sourav