Digging for Meaning

I have been living in Gurgaon for the last 5 years. 5 years! in Gurgaon! I never thought I would end up staying this long here. In my head, it always was just a transit camp - to earn money to fund travel to Himalayas, come back and refill, go back and chill.. repeat until one figures out a way to break out of the cycle. For the first 2 odd years that reflected in my lifestyle - My house was small and barely functional, a temporary base camp to return to 'home' in the hills. That 'home' was among strangers in the farthest corners and alleys of small villages in the hills. The home was not peopled really. It had no walls. It was the crisp cool air of the hills, the majesty of Himalaya, the clarity of sun's rays, the hot vapours rising from the ginger tea and the never ending walks in the forests , up the hills, down the valleys and through gullies and alleys of small villages and towns. When I was alone, that's what home was for me: A living breathing intima...

 This was written in response to a Quora question .  The question was " Why trend to purchase bullet bikes increased in India? " I think bikes (as most other things) are bought not only for its functional relevance but for its psychological relevance. (If you can commute ably with a 35k bike, why would you spend a lakh more on a bike which essentially is a bulkier, less advanced machine?) The purchase of bullet is purely a matter of fulfilling a psychological need. So the question is - what is the psychological need being met by Bullets and why are more people in India feeling that particular need? Bullet is uniquely manly. While Pulsar is 'definitely male', it is also immature. Pulsar is boyish, bullet is manly. Most fared bikes are positioned to younger audiences. They answer the need of adrenaline rush.. what we call 'potency needs'. Its the quintessential teenage need to feel on the edge. Bullet is not for these men (boys). Bullet has been t...

Matrix Cellular is quite possibly inflating your bills when you use their cards while traveling abroad. I traveled to Germany last September. During this time I used Matrix's O2 card. I was keenly aware of my usage, penny pincher that I am. So I was very surprised to see an inflated bill when I returned home, my credit card being charged already. I requested a bill. I was puzzled with the fact that the sums added up to the amount being charged. However, I had kept a tab on my usage and had an estimate in mind of my bill. On closer inspection, it turned out, that the anomaly is not in summation or in call rates. Instead, MATRIX HAD SYSTEMATICALLY INFLATED THE DURATION OF CALLS . Here's a snapshot of my bill. The number in red boxes is the duration of call as per my phone records. Matrix has agreed to my claims and now reduced the bill to account for inflated charges. (I had shared with them snapshots of my cell phone with call record.)  (its another 3 month...

The Volvo (not just your average bus) screeched to a halt somewhere between here (Gurgaon) and there (Kasol) in the middle of the night (didn't bother to check time, it was somewhere around hungry time). The screech  put the dhaba waiters into accelerated motion. Towel on the shoulder, slippers under the feet. Hands busy waving away the flies. Eye roving compulsively and furiously over the fat contingent vomited out of the bus, straight into the washrooms. The washrooms lacked soap. (there perhaps was something that resembled a soap near the wash basin, but one can't be sure.) But that didn't deter us to go order food in the restaurant after visiting the washrooms. At a distance, there were 3 portly men. One sitting, the other two were standing. They were intently avoiding each other's gaze. If accidents of timing made one catch another's gaze, both ended up smiling profusely with wild hand gestures. One can only surmize that the gestures were theatrical acts of ...

Evening time. Delhi domestic airport. As many people in casual clothes as suit & ties - upcoming long weekender crowd. Travelers were forming a queue at Terminal no. 12. Usually, hawk eyed travelers keep a look out for incoming inconspicuous elbows and the wily side steppers. But it was different this time. Many were sheepishly staring towards someone. But only briefly. They would consciously then reign in their gaze, back into forward nothingness. The curiosity was overwhelming their resolve though. The heads would turn ever so slightly back towards this one person. People desperately were trying to feign indifference. The man in question was a short guy with a slightly largish head. His skin seemed like a battle ground. His hair was colored dirty bronze. Another person with him had just left. He had touched the celebrity's feet before leaving. No doubt the celebrity is used to people fawning around him. The celebrity in question was a famous comedian. His movies are larg...

Just read a post from the crowd-sourced diary of narcissists - thoughtcatalog.com The post is called ' Why I’m Trading A House And Salary For A Motorcycle And Map ' Please read it, because this blog post is a reaction to it. Let me quickly summarise here the intent of the post anyways. Its a self congratulatory essay that crowd sources validation for a seemingly 'crazy' idea of the author. And apparently there is a moral to the story. Curious thing to note - the gratification is pre-action - the author has not actually done anything of note yet. He plans to. Maybe . and that is why this post is such an important artifact defining the current times. The author is an adult. (atleast 30 years old. Also the fact that he owns a house that he can sell. and in his words " I've officially notified everyone who works in my office ".) But not quite. (the entire article. Also, he mentions the word 'motorcycle' gushingly 6 times.)  Some of his gems.  ...

(This is a ridiculous travelogue - real experience fantasized for no good reason.) The Aurora factory This is a magical factory. It comes into being only once in a blue-green sky. One can't reach it with a map. What you need is a recipe of luck. I don't know the exact recipe, but i have a fair idea of it's ingredients.  you need -  1. Good warm pajamas 2. A belt (to hold the pajamas in place) 3. A bicycle with 2 happy tyres (The factory goes invisible if one tries to see it through car windows.) 4. A equal partner in crime 5. A town in arctic with bridge over lakes 6. An alarm clock that is able to wake you up at 4 am 7. 3 hours of sauna the day before ( to have red enough eyes. it's a must. it acts as a sort-of filter that makes visibility of magical things easier. ) 8. Loads of luck.  Armed with all these things, we woke up the third time (once at 12, then at 2, then at 4) and stepped out of our warm warm cabin in Kemijarvi. Let me sho...

I am surprised at myself - at my surprises and the lack of its reflections. Its been 2 days since I came from Finland, my first visit to Europe. While going through my photographs and videos of the trip, I was surprised by the total absence of pictures of life in Europe. Finland surprised me with the beauty of its people. It was in their upright walk, their immaculate dresses, their ever present smile, the amazingly helpful nature and sheer handsomeness. It was in the many lakes, the crisp air and the one might-be-aurora miracle of nature on the norther horizon. It was in the beautiful architecture of its old (new by Parisian standards thought) buildings, its nordic walking/ biking citizenry and so many more things. And it is exactly these very things that I have not photographed at all. Well, yes, I am not very comfortable taking pictures of unknown people - I feel it is amoral to take pictures of others without their knowing, and even if they know, publishing it online withou...

Holiness What does it mean to be holy? Is it supreme happiness? Is it an ability to help others? Is it clairvoyance? Is it wisdom? Is it purity & unity of thought and action? Is it an ability to influence? What is holiness? At Kee monastery, we met these wonderful monks. Most of them have spent their entire lives here. The one with halo hails from Kibber. He has been a monk here since he was a kid. He had such an infectious and ready smile, it was hard not to smile along. He was curious about us. His curiosity was ego less. He was down to earth and unassuming.  The first time I saw the halo in the picture, I thought it couldn't be. Perhaps, its just a lens flair. Or is my doubt, stemming from my ego - that holiness must have accompanying grandeur. Flair or no flair, there is certainly something for me to learn here. Perhaps holiness exists in the rank of men and women - people like us. Its in their acceptance of themselves, that they find their holines...

To travel is to escape.... My mind was completely empty and my body was cold. It was an early summer afternoon in Leh and i was sitting by the steps of a monastery. I was an empty shell with big eyes, simply intent on taking in all that was there; and there was so much beauty and peace there to take in: Colorful fluttering flags, old women chatting conspiratorially at the other end, monks gesticulating to each other furiously, an India soldier checking out his camera pics, two young women talking to someone else on their cell phone and laughing secret laughs... A monk passed by and suggested me to come see the monastery from inside. I had a bag with me and needed to keep it somewhere safe before i enter. That's when i noticed the person sitting just 2 steps below me, with the intention of keeping my stuff there under his watch. I thought it was a young white boy. I tapped his back. a little too forcefully perhaps, because it was actually a french girl. i did an 'excuse ...

While taking out the battery charger out of the camera bag, I noticed that sand was embedded in it. Well, the last time i went anywhere with sand was mui ne beach in Vietnam. But then I saw some sand in the old camera bag too? it was different and sure couldn't be from Mui ne, because I was using other bag then. May be pushkar from last year? may be mcleodgunj, may be some other beach that I went to and forgot.  Travel :D

Camera. Its an amusement park packed into a small box really. Holding it by its grip transforms the world around. At times, it turns me into a detective out to capture secrets of the world no one was supposed to known. Most other times, after clicking the camera on, I recede into inconsequence to the surrounding. Much like fishing, I do not stir and I consciously remove myself from the life of the world moving by. I wait and I move slowly. The act of anticipation is so beautiful, its almost meditative. But then the pictures I tend to take are anything but striking. While taking the picture, I do not attempt at crystallizing a metaphor of life in a frame, or even to depict a representation of some facet of life. I just try to remember through my camera how awesome the life is. So more often my videos are like photographs (still and intent) and my photographs are like videos (not restricted to just one element, context included). With my camera, a sort of calm stillness fills me. I e...

It never seizes to wonder, the flight. Up up and away! :D (Yes that's actually how my face looks like throughout the flight) (The first time I flew early morning towards Leh, I couldn't restrain my glee. My hands clutched at the handle not with fear but with hope to tame down my excitement. I would strain my neck to see out of the window. I couldn't help but laugh out loud with helpless blameless happinesss pouring out through my being. Well, many delays and lay overs later, the same excitement grips me on every single flight still.) Within moments you leave all that you have known. People shrink to impossible insignificance of small ants. Big imposing sky scrapers look like lego sets. As you peer down, you skip by distances so swiftly as if you have grown giant limbs and they are so far below that you can't feel them. Jumping over buildings and roads, my imaginary feet running with easy strides. And then comes the best part of it all. The clouds. :D Passing and...

Bagsu, Vietnam Traveling is a kind promiscuity. Cheating your homeland, escaping to lovely bosoms of beautiful strange lands. Wild euphoria and sudden disenchantment. heady love and stinging loneliness. promises of coming back, and promises of giving back. Gokarn, Pushkar Traveling is an escape. Running to an unknown face, running away from the older known ones. Alone and with everybody. The warmth of unprejudiced smiles. An attempt to bear no mask. or to wear one of your choice, not somebody else's. A relief of not having to rebel every time you want to breath. Himalaya Treks, Ladakh Traveling is to return to your self son of the ground and the sky. The air is you.  insignificant. but integral. everywhere, a nomad. alive and about. Clear free.