Cafe Nirvana

What is it about old places that makes us feel warm, cozy and blissful? The same cacophony of discussions, the same tilted sepia toned picture hung on the wall. Two mirrors on opposite walls kept at an angle inclined. The signature white uniform with the spotless White and Red Bandana, the rickety tables, the faded blue paint and the inviting aroma of freshly brewed coffee. The same Century old Cash Tally Machine that makes a peculiar sound that proudly proclaims its personality.

Oh! the smell of coffee makes me feel wanted. Feel hope. The coffee brewed here is a metaphor for good living. Filled to the brim, Full of Life, Rich and inviting... I'm in Love. With Coffee apparently.

The coffee I sip brings me to a realization. Its not just the coffee , not just the people, not just the tables and walls. Its all these things put together - and more

The Coffee House is a place where our collective consciousness- as a people and as a culture- resides. Every culture, Every City has its cultural nerve center. The coffee house is one of such places for Bangalore. Visiting the Coffee House is entering the inner sanctum of the city's collective memories. To experience this, all we have to do is sit down and listen carefully.

What do I find?

A group of businessmen discussing trade over the same coffee that is slowly working its magic with this new couple who sit across from me. I see the girl sipping coffee slowly and stealing loving glances from the boy she's with. Its the same coffee thats helping the girls sitting behind me form such tight bonds of friendship and camaraderie. Lunch is served to the Salesman who's sitting in front of me. And slowly he beings to feel lighter- confident. Probably his prospective customer bailed out on him and was feeling despondent. having lunch here has made him realize the fleeting nature of setbacks. I see a Mother telling some story about her times at the coffee house, to her daughter who's just reached adolescence. I think when this girl experiences Love for the first time- she'll visit here as a symbolic gesture letting in a guy into her life. This old man sits in a group reminiscing fondly about his life and his times with his wife who's passed on- to his group of really old friends. They all Laugh- full throated- and most of them don't even have teeth left. I think of the time when these men came here- maybe decades ago. They weren't this fat. They had Hair, Teeth, and companions. Now they have each other- one of them may leave us all today evening. But this memory would live on passed through them, through me. It suddenly feels like divine hands are working their way to me.. and before I know it I'm smiling too.

I am all these people- The old Man without Teeth, The Girl who might find love, the despondent salesman, the group of friends, the doting mother and Just-Fell in Love- couple. All these people are a part of me just as i am, of them.

Then the realization dawns on me. The coffee house doesn't just serve coffee. The coffee isnt an end- its the means to an end- its the magical fount of self realization. A mirror to my soul and simultaneously the hand of hope.

Everyone has a different picture of hope. For some its their husbands/ Wives. For some its their Lovers or friends. My picture of hope is a pot bellied, mustachioed man with no name. He wears the spotless Red and White headgear and a spotless white uniform. His red belt is the widest belt made ever and his shoes are white and polished. With a genuine warm smile he ambles along like Baloo the Bear and brings me my order of scrambled egg Toast and coffee.

We live schizophrenic lives- especially in the cities- Memories shift like sand dunes of the desert. In this shifty world of Maya, I see my picture of hope- as he comes walking to me smiling and conveying at the same time- "I'm here now- and I'm here for you"

Old Wine...

What is the distance between Texas and Bangalore? I'd say about the same distance as the width of Brigade Road in Bangalore.

Its a strange ethereal feeling meeting old acquaintances and friends. Long periods of being incommunicado followed by a meeting, one never really knows what to expect. People change day to day- and over a period of three years we have changed, a lot. Sort of reminds me of the short story 'After Twenty Years'

Yet there's always a feeling of familiarity, a sense of great affection that cannot be expressed in words. Genuine laughter knowing nods in scams undertaken together- a long long time ago.

And the experiences come back in a rush- like a dam that burst open. And that familiar feeling of being partners in crime returns. Eyes never Lie. The same streak of hair that runs across her face, the sharp laughter that makes the world a little less unbearable and voice that can calm calm me down from murderous rage to carefree laughter in minutes. The same look of wonder and terror.

We hanker for change in our life, everyday, fight for it, sometimes die for it, and yet it seems we all want things to remain the same. Back to the same bumbling 18 year old, who got all tongue-tied in the presence of a rather charming girl.

Life encompasses within it a very deep and profound madness. I guess meeting old friends gives us some sort of a respite from our own little insanities of living everyday. A similar feeling to drinking very old wine. Initial exhilarating that transcends into serenity followed by moments of untarnished beauty. Towards the end, all that remains is a warm glow that radiates from within, knowing that fulfillment is the easiest thing in the world.

Three Years ago, we said our goodbyes only to meet three years later. Lives have diverged but our way of living hasn't. Because of technological changes we keep in touch even though we're separated by oceans, but fulfillment is never reached... The void of emptiness that cannot be fulfilled by keeping in touch alone.

And it remained so through large internet chat discussions, favors and video's exchanged, and messages passed on, and news shared. It was not even fulfilled when I heard she'd landed in Bangalore. Bangalore or Texas, it never really changed. Local Calls and ISD Calls have the same dull sense of being impersonal and metallic.

... Until I saw her across Brigade Road waving to me. Thats when memories came back flying through the night sky- Memories of classes attended and classes bunked. Memories of the unbridled fear in her eyes because of the dog pound. Memories of endless cups of coffee and being curious because of intellectual chatter of the monkeys near the electrical department. Memories of circular reasoning that would drive a certified psychologist to insanity.

That was the distance between Texas and Bangalore for me. the time and distance it took for me to cross the road. A place where our conversations stopped being 'telecommunication' and started being personal. I guess, because of our busy lives and the horrible traffic it took us three years to cross the road.

A happy thought for me to remember that the first Happy memory of the year was gifted to me by two incredibly warm people who who remembered me when they didn't have to. They chose to celebrate joy of togetherness on a cold dry winter evening, instead of curling up in their homes with family.

Another new year

It's forty five minutes left in this year. Enough time to peek one final time over my shoulder to see the year before it gets relegated to another chapter in history.
Last year at around the same time I guess I was cooking for a couple of friends.

A year passed, one that had been in many ways, the toughest year for me. Dealing with loss, accepting it for what it was while fighting to remember the good. It's a damn hard thing to do most of the times, and it complicates life.

But I learnt A lot about people . And I'm glad lived through 2009. I won't go so far as to think 2010 is going be better but I do hope I learn a lot more.

As I start hearing the first of the party screams and the sky lights up with crackers, we go into the new year I wonder as I have always....

What really is the point of life? We celebrate so much with people. I'm sure next year at this time we would have lost atleast someone whom we've partied with today. Someone with whom we're so close to today at next years party we'll have only bitterness to rememer them.

Well, 2009 has made me a beliver in this quote

"sometimes, the best way to reduce your pain caused by the thorns in the walk of life is by removing another persons thorns"

My goodbyes to 2009 and a fresh eye to 2010. Yes I shall end 2009 in the best way possible. Slipping into the arms of sleep. And get up eay tomorrow.

Good night and my thanks to all the wonderful people who've tolerated my presence in their lives, while simulataeously giving me a comforting hand when I needed to feel human touch.

Silent Goodbye

This is my tribute to Little Chimpu who walked away....

Goodbye Love - Our times have passed,
As our walls fade into insignificance,
Remembrance is sin upon my pained soul,
As your little hands of comfort are cold.

Goodbye little Pigeon- you fly away,
To lands away to learn and forget,
New bridges built and new Loves found,
Old ones shed and Lost.

Over hot coffees and cookouts i saw a glimpse,
Of wonder, of Sadness, of Godliness sublime,
In Sickness, in Health, In attachment I felt,
Silent touch of comfort of a friend Divine,

We stand today, alone. separated by the Sea of pain and numbness,
You fight to forget as I fight to remember-
the moments lost and the moments not understood-
Divergent lives we have and live that never would meet again.

I whisper today, a Silent goodbye, as you cross the sea,
To Lands unknown in search of Treasure untold,
I whisper today, A Silent Prayer to the spirits of the Earth,
That safe and Happy you'll be, and the world of Love you'll see.

I whisper today a a Silent goodbye, As you leave your past and me behind,
Never look back Little one, as forward your glory you'll find.
Hopeless hope I cling onto, to hope that our paths meet ahead,
Until then, my Little drops of the Rain, Silent torment is all I'll find.

The Call of the wild

The charade of civilized life continues as it always has...with plastic smiles and come-hither looks . With untamed ambition masked by snakeskin of caring.

Through the cavernous valley of life, the one thing that each one of us has learned - is to have an insatiable hunger-a monster that we create of our own will. A monster of discontent- created by the seed sown very early in life. A hunger that we create for ourselves, that gives us some 'purpose' in life, before enslaving us to its wily charms of Gold and Gifts. Today we have knowledge about so many things of the Earth and beyond, but the understanding of our own insignificance and limitations seems to have passed by us completely.

The beasts in us are more active then ever. Time and time again we feel the call a voice from deep within us that tell us in whispers that beneath the veneer called knowledge, we are no different than the beasts we seek and the beasts we eat. That the same anger and lust that animals seek over their own kind and others seeps through our veins too -

Anger- Always prevalent just beneath the surface. We wait in the shadows looking for a mistake made by someone- To break something (perhaps even ourselves) when the moment is right. The eternal glow of destruction that always calls out to us in the darkest recesses of the mind.. to find the strength to strike and strike harder until emptiness descends upon us.

Lust- Eternally Red which the most primitive Call the one that is all pervading, all consuming-the very basic instinct of them all.A guttural feeling that begins somwhere near the navel that slowly dominates all thought because of a visual impulse. The roving eyes that try to compensate for all the five senses and fail always. The Parched throat that can never be quenched, the fire of desire that can be extinguished only when bodies meet.

Look at the world around- where the Business of voyeurism earns the maximum followed by the Business of anger (War)

Today, the knowledge we have gathered have enabled us in ways never thought of before, to feed our dominant emotions and enable us to be more destructive than every before. The Lacunae of Peace, Tranquility, Understanding and wisdom have grown larger- a balance that was fragile to begin with has ben shattered long before toddlers say their first words.

The charade of civilized life continues as always... Allowing us to plot miserable pain on others in the seclusion of our homes while feeding our own private lusts.

Dominated by our desires and ambitions we step from stone to stone in the sea of life while forgetting fully that the achievements of the past and present (and history will agree) all get ground to the dust in due course of time.

And all this while, the Call of the Wild - to pander to our wants and needs, to fight for survival and to dominate and live or Accept and perish - is getting Louder within us...

The Doors are Shut Forever

The Questions never stop. Does Pain signify want? Why is it that open doors shut so soon and doors that are shut never open? Are relationships meant to change? Why is it that a person who who meant the world to you just turns away at the next junction and walks a road away? Is it too bad to want another opportunity to be together? Or such an arduous task to grant it?

Two months is an incredibly long period of silence- and in two months of remembrance I learnt that
1- It takes an incredibly long time to know someone to some depth
2- In this period some moments experienced are so divine- so sublime, you feel Godliness really exists
3- It takes so little to break something so wonderful.
4- And the resentment starts to creep and the beauty of something that exists only in the mind, starts to slowly vaporize
5-It is difficult to let go of this resentment- and that eventually destroys something that was so beautiful.
6- The doors of heart and mind- that same door that allowed you to passage start to shut.
7- Doors of the mind and heart, once shut, never open.

Where is adult peace?

June 1st is a very important day for the whole of India- or should i say, the kids of India. In synchrony with the changing weather, where the brightness of summer leads into the grey sunlight of the rains, we hear little footsteps and sighs of acceptance in the hallways- Polished black shoes and well pressed Uniforms that signify a transition- from a state of carefree life of summer, to the disciplined (and quite a few times, mirthless) school life. June 1st signifies the start of term for schools across the country. Its ironic to note that yesterday- May 31st- the day that signifies the end of the summer vacations- was the last day the noted writer Kamala Das (Surayya) passed away- she was 75.

The irony rests on one of the most influential poems she Wrote- 'Punishment in Kindergarten'- a poem that describes the pain she went through as a child- Indifferent Peers and Rambling teachers. She passed away on the last day of the Summer- the last day of Freedom for the kids.

The Poem (Posted Below) has had quite an impact on my life. Through school and University I've experienced a sea of emotions and gained (hopefully) a couple of drops of knowledge and wisdom.

But this poem always held out hope- that I would find adult peace

Line 15 "The years had sped along stopping briefly,
Line 16 At Beloved Halts and Moving sadly on,
Line 17 My mind has found an adult peace"

Today I look back at the years that have sped by and stop to realise that the fond the memories of school are like little butterflies flitting about in the garden of hope. only that the garden has now turned into a thorny outgrowth-

- Love that was experienced in University and broken by the thorns of heartbreak just after because there were too many things to handle...
-Hopes of its revival that was dashed after University because we had transitioned into different people...
- The genuine affection for friends at school that has now been corrupted to the seeds of envy sown towards colleagues at work in adult life...
-A life of ambition, focus, examinations and play time that has now been swapped with KRA's, Project deadlines, sales targets and Business Parties...
-A life of mirth and laughter during a cricket or basketball match that has now turned into 'Team building exercises'...
-A Life of endless possibilities and boundless joy that has been swapped with a life that has narrow choices, personal skeletons and loneliness...

School was a time when friends were not so hard to come by
School was a time when we learnt that 'Chicks' and 'Chickens' had nothing in common :)
School was a time when regular PT Sessions ensured that we didn't have cholesterol problems and
regular music lessons ensured that we understood that there was more to life than Science, Business and Politics.

Young adulthood has left me more disappointed and depressed than I have ever been.

I would really like to know what Kamala Das meant by 'adult peace'

Now I'll never have the opportunity to ask her- She sleeps in peace.

PUNISHMENT IN KINDERGARTEN- Kamala Das

Today the world is a little more my own.
No need to remember the pain
A blue frocked women caused,throwing
Words at me like pots and pans ,to drain
That honey-coloured day of peace,
"why don't you join the others,
what a peculiar child you are?"

On the lawn ,in clusters ,sat my schoolmates sipping
Sugarcane,they turned and laughed;
Children are funny things, they laugh
In mirth at other's tears ,I buried

My face in the sun-warmed hedge
And smelt the flowers and the pain

The words are muffled now,the laughing faces only a blur.
The years have sped along ,stopping briefly
At beloved halts and moving sadly on.
My mind has found an adult peace .
No need to remember
That picnic day when i lay hidden
By the hedge,watching steel white sun
Standing lonely in the sky.