Another birthday comes along
And everyone is going on
With birthday wishes
And gifts
And ooohing
and aaahing
Bah!
I wishes I wuss fishes!
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
The Preservation of Memory
“To be born again you must first die.”
The words were unclear, both in their meaning and also because of the situation my ears were in. But somehow, the meaning of the words, murky as the water I was in, entered into the very centre of my being. I had a feeling that something was amiss, but I could not put my finger on it. Not right away at least, then it suddenly hit me – I was not breathing. I seemed to be undergoing some sort of sensory deprivation process. I could see but it was hazy, my hearing was fuzzy, my feeling almost numb, I could taste familiar tastes that I could not name. And I wasn’t breathing.
“I tell you the truth - no one can see the Kingdom of God unless he is born of water and spirit.”
I could still hear the muffled voice, I could even see the blurred outline of people, I could feel hands holding me. Was I hallucinating? Was this a bizarre dream? Where was this place and how had I come to be here? Random, disjoint thoughts flooded my head (though I was unsure if I did have a head) – “love can damage your health”, “breathe”, “genetic world”, “L’incertitude D’Heisenberg” and so on they tumbled out into the open where everyone could see them.
“Flesh gives birth to flesh, and spirit gives birth to spirit.”
Energy. Particles. Atoms. Molecules. Compounds. DNA. Code. Copy. Mutate. Transmit. Recreate. Energy.
The perception was beyond anything language could describe. I was a presence. Among infinite souls, both living and dead, and those that were neither. Thought was omnipresent but it was the kind of thought that cannot be articulated for such words do not exist in the spoken tongues of man. Memory of a collective past was suddenly accessible. Yet this was only a feeling and I could not hold on to it. But it came back, again and again, in waves. I was bathed in a warm feeling of ecstasy and I could suddenly love. Even things I had once hated. Love was the continuation of all things.
“I baptise you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
As my awareness floated in those waters, its physical representation struggled, out of conditioned response to the circumstances. Thoughts whirled by, ungraspable, as language faded away. The pure being of all around me melted into an indescribable, endless light that was also a completely dark void. The infinite in material form that was me. The infinite in energy that was me. The infinite that was everything outside of me. I had a sudden last recollection of my body as it gasped. But only for a moment as I felt the remnants of my extremities disappear into the rest of the black light.
And thus I remember my death and birth.
The words were unclear, both in their meaning and also because of the situation my ears were in. But somehow, the meaning of the words, murky as the water I was in, entered into the very centre of my being. I had a feeling that something was amiss, but I could not put my finger on it. Not right away at least, then it suddenly hit me – I was not breathing. I seemed to be undergoing some sort of sensory deprivation process. I could see but it was hazy, my hearing was fuzzy, my feeling almost numb, I could taste familiar tastes that I could not name. And I wasn’t breathing.
“I tell you the truth - no one can see the Kingdom of God unless he is born of water and spirit.”
I could still hear the muffled voice, I could even see the blurred outline of people, I could feel hands holding me. Was I hallucinating? Was this a bizarre dream? Where was this place and how had I come to be here? Random, disjoint thoughts flooded my head (though I was unsure if I did have a head) – “love can damage your health”, “breathe”, “genetic world”, “L’incertitude D’Heisenberg” and so on they tumbled out into the open where everyone could see them.
“Flesh gives birth to flesh, and spirit gives birth to spirit.”
Energy. Particles. Atoms. Molecules. Compounds. DNA. Code. Copy. Mutate. Transmit. Recreate. Energy.
The perception was beyond anything language could describe. I was a presence. Among infinite souls, both living and dead, and those that were neither. Thought was omnipresent but it was the kind of thought that cannot be articulated for such words do not exist in the spoken tongues of man. Memory of a collective past was suddenly accessible. Yet this was only a feeling and I could not hold on to it. But it came back, again and again, in waves. I was bathed in a warm feeling of ecstasy and I could suddenly love. Even things I had once hated. Love was the continuation of all things.
“I baptise you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”
As my awareness floated in those waters, its physical representation struggled, out of conditioned response to the circumstances. Thoughts whirled by, ungraspable, as language faded away. The pure being of all around me melted into an indescribable, endless light that was also a completely dark void. The infinite in material form that was me. The infinite in energy that was me. The infinite that was everything outside of me. I had a sudden last recollection of my body as it gasped. But only for a moment as I felt the remnants of my extremities disappear into the rest of the black light.
And thus I remember my death and birth.
Monday, March 10, 2008
Mushie Filter No. 020
Ancient beautiful forests with trees that creak and groan. Winding pathways unfolding before us and we traipsed through the woods with a basket full of mushies like psychedelic nursery rhyme characters. The trees spoke, they watched us - tiny little things, stumbling along. An old tree Baba, ten feet high, sits cross-legged in Padmasana, in a state of Samadhi, or maybe just struck by lightening with thousands of little things within him that look like disintegrated flying insects, but probably not.
Rocks and boulders, intricately covered with the drawings of the little forest imps, telling their stories in drying fungi formations. They lie strewn around the stream and enable some fun stream hopping. La la la la with a basket full of mushies skipping along stones like turned-on-tuned-in mountain goats.
Cows with stories on their leather hides, (leave the leather hides on the cows), grazing, looking for their vegetable fix. Dinkle, tinkle, splinkle, pinkle - cow bells jingle jangle on the sand. Hipple hopple, they pipple popple down their paths to chill out land.
Zenlike in rolling pastures: happy-hoppy-high-up-hobos! This could be home forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever. Amen.
I don't take cameras and such devices on my travels, this photo is by a happy hobo princess
Rocks and boulders, intricately covered with the drawings of the little forest imps, telling their stories in drying fungi formations. They lie strewn around the stream and enable some fun stream hopping. La la la la with a basket full of mushies skipping along stones like turned-on-tuned-in mountain goats.
Cows with stories on their leather hides, (leave the leather hides on the cows), grazing, looking for their vegetable fix. Dinkle, tinkle, splinkle, pinkle - cow bells jingle jangle on the sand. Hipple hopple, they pipple popple down their paths to chill out land.
Zenlike in rolling pastures: happy-hoppy-high-up-hobos! This could be home forever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever and ever. Amen.
I don't take cameras and such devices on my travels, this photo is by a happy hobo princess
Monday, January 28, 2008
Jargon, Lingo and Vernacular of the Bangalore Middle School Kid (Including Some Etymology)
So, in a previous post, I promised the to inform the reader about dadikus. Now, unlike haikus or birdkus, dadikus are not a form of art; they're not even closely related, unless you are aesthetically impaired. Dadikus were what we, as kids, would call other kids who were fat. Yes, despite their sweet and innocent exterior, children can be spiteful and mean, and mercilesly ridicule other kids who are different.
Even Boney M sang about fat people. Remember that song?
She's crazy like a fool,
What about dadiku?
And that awesome refrain:
Dadi, dadiku
Dadi, dadiku
There were many other terms that were part of school kid dialect, back when I was a kid. Here's a listing.
da(n) - a friend, a mate. A term of endearment; predominantly male usage.
Usage: What da? Why you don't like me anymore da? What I did to you da?
There are many regional variations of this term, including macha, maam/s, bob, ra and ba.
Though I never used maam, I quite like the usage: What maams? How it is?
dadiku(n) - a person who is overweight, obese, fat, stout or even mildly pudgy.
djang(adj) - describing someone or something that is gaudy or excessively fancy; tacky.
(n) - a garish person.
This word is derived from the name of the famous guitarist Django Reinhardt - because he was so jazzy!
A common synonym for djang was djatang! and yes it comes with the exclamation mark at the end.
lambukuchi(n) - derogatory term used to refer to an excessively tall person. Derived from the Hindi lamba - tall, and the Tamil kuchi - stick. Note: The person should not just be tall, but also excessively thin, and very stick insect like, you wouldn't want to insult a tall, heavy-weight.
poda(interj) - Get lost; shoo; vamoose! To add some flair to this term one could append a "dai" to the end. Eg: "Podadai loafer!"
mother promise(v) - possibly the highest ranking promise, though this could be superceded by "god promise", some auto rickshaw drivers consider them equivalent vows as they advertise on the back of their rickshaws - "mother is god". Possibly derived as a direct translation from the Hindi "ma kasam". Had more value if you pinched you adam's apple while making the promise.
porky(n) - an aimless bum not a character from Looney Toons. Can also be used with "naye" which literally means "loafer dog".
kulla(n) - used to insult a person who is of short stature. The people who would stand at the opposite end of a line from a lambukuchi.
(adj) - indicating a lack of height.
wothla(adj) - of inferior quality; worthless; crappy.
wol, wolla(n) - a blatant lie; an exaggeration.
(v) - the act of lying.
This could also be occasionally used as an adjective, eg. "He says his father is a CID, what a wolla fellow he is!"
karpa koodi(n) - an insulting way of referring to a person of dark skin tone. Literally meaning "black cunt".
aikalakadajimbanzee(interj) - exclamation of joy, mostly used when winning a point in table tennis. Ask this man for a better explanation. Some etymologists believe that this sound has its origins in the phrase "I clucked a chimpanzee", though there are few takers for this theory.
boochie(n) - a person who can be very clingy, annoying and displaying and overpowering desire to control everything and everyone using melodrama, hysteria and emotional blackmail. Boochies can be easily spotted by the things they say, like "fine, be like that!", or "do what you want!" etc. The usage is predominantly femine though it can be applied to men who display such traits as well (though some scholars prefer the use of the word "goochie" for the masculine form). Derived from the Tamil boochie - insect, indicating the person is like a bug or blood-sucking insect.
(adj) - indicating the qualities attributed to a boochie.
boochify (v)
So how many of you used these phrases back in the day? Let me see those hands!
Did I miss out any terms? Feel free to add on with definitions.
Even Boney M sang about fat people. Remember that song?
She's crazy like a fool,
What about dadiku?
And that awesome refrain:
Dadi, dadiku
Dadi, dadiku
There were many other terms that were part of school kid dialect, back when I was a kid. Here's a listing.
da(n) - a friend, a mate. A term of endearment; predominantly male usage.
Usage: What da? Why you don't like me anymore da? What I did to you da?
There are many regional variations of this term, including macha, maam/s, bob, ra and ba.
Though I never used maam, I quite like the usage: What maams? How it is?
dadiku(n) - a person who is overweight, obese, fat, stout or even mildly pudgy.
djang(adj) - describing someone or something that is gaudy or excessively fancy; tacky.
(n) - a garish person.
This word is derived from the name of the famous guitarist Django Reinhardt - because he was so jazzy!
A common synonym for djang was djatang! and yes it comes with the exclamation mark at the end.
lambukuchi(n) - derogatory term used to refer to an excessively tall person. Derived from the Hindi lamba - tall, and the Tamil kuchi - stick. Note: The person should not just be tall, but also excessively thin, and very stick insect like, you wouldn't want to insult a tall, heavy-weight.
poda(interj) - Get lost; shoo; vamoose! To add some flair to this term one could append a "dai" to the end. Eg: "Podadai loafer!"
mother promise(v) - possibly the highest ranking promise, though this could be superceded by "god promise", some auto rickshaw drivers consider them equivalent vows as they advertise on the back of their rickshaws - "mother is god". Possibly derived as a direct translation from the Hindi "ma kasam". Had more value if you pinched you adam's apple while making the promise.
porky(n) - an aimless bum not a character from Looney Toons. Can also be used with "naye" which literally means "loafer dog".
kulla(n) - used to insult a person who is of short stature. The people who would stand at the opposite end of a line from a lambukuchi.
(adj) - indicating a lack of height.
wothla(adj) - of inferior quality; worthless; crappy.
wol, wolla(n) - a blatant lie; an exaggeration.
(v) - the act of lying.
This could also be occasionally used as an adjective, eg. "He says his father is a CID, what a wolla fellow he is!"
karpa koodi(n) - an insulting way of referring to a person of dark skin tone. Literally meaning "black cunt".
aikalakadajimbanzee(interj) - exclamation of joy, mostly used when winning a point in table tennis. Ask this man for a better explanation. Some etymologists believe that this sound has its origins in the phrase "I clucked a chimpanzee", though there are few takers for this theory.
boochie(n) - a person who can be very clingy, annoying and displaying and overpowering desire to control everything and everyone using melodrama, hysteria and emotional blackmail. Boochies can be easily spotted by the things they say, like "fine, be like that!", or "do what you want!" etc. The usage is predominantly femine though it can be applied to men who display such traits as well (though some scholars prefer the use of the word "goochie" for the masculine form). Derived from the Tamil boochie - insect, indicating the person is like a bug or blood-sucking insect.
(adj) - indicating the qualities attributed to a boochie.
boochify (v)
So how many of you used these phrases back in the day? Let me see those hands!
Did I miss out any terms? Feel free to add on with definitions.
Friday, January 25, 2008
Put your hyperlink in, put your hyperlink out...and that's what it's all about!
So there aren't too many people who can be funny as well as be nostalgic about the 80s (my fave decade!), but Vishal Patel sure can. So hop over to http://www.vishalpatel.com and get your kicks you dirty animal!
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Excerpts from the Joydev Mela
I have never met a man
Who did not make me sad.
I have never met a man
Who did not make me sad.
Perhaps it’s because
I have never met a man
To whom pain was not given.
These veins are filled with worms,
This body is rotting,
Eaten away by pride.
This body is made from mud
And to mud it will return.
Even the birds
Fly away from me.
Even the birds
Fly away from me
Oh, why did I approach them
Drawn by their sweet song?
I waited all my life
To give all my love to you.
I waited all my life
To give all my love to you.
But you threw it away
Like filthy rags
That have soaked the dirt of the world.
Song of the Baul
Who did not make me sad.
I have never met a man
Who did not make me sad.
Perhaps it’s because
I have never met a man
To whom pain was not given.
These veins are filled with worms,
This body is rotting,
Eaten away by pride.
This body is made from mud
And to mud it will return.
Even the birds
Fly away from me.
Even the birds
Fly away from me
Oh, why did I approach them
Drawn by their sweet song?
I waited all my life
To give all my love to you.
I waited all my life
To give all my love to you.
But you threw it away
Like filthy rags
That have soaked the dirt of the world.
Song of the Baul
Every year, in the third week of January, the little village of Kenduli, in West Bengal, decks itself up in splendorous colours and bedazzling lights, and prepares to host over a quarter of a million people who come to be part of the Joydev Mela. It’s a spectacular meeting ground for villagers and traders, sadhus and fakirs, and the purveyors of Bhakti in song – Bauls.
For the unaware, Bauls are wandering minstrels. Most of them lead rather ascetic lives. Some of them play indigenous instruments, like the ektara: a single stringed marvel, while other bang on anything available and sing in cracking voices. They all have a repertoire of songs that they have penned, along with a few famous Baul pieces, and these they sing – for their supper. The singing may not be brilliant but the lyrics are thought provoking. Unfortunately for me they sing in Bengali, so I was unable to understand most of the songs. One chap was kind enough to sing a song for me in Hindi, which I have translated (to the best of my abilities) above.
**********
“Don’t keep your money lying around on the ground like that - it might blow away in the wind.”
“It’s not my money, it’s God’s money, he can do what he wants with it.”
He banged away furiously on his upturned steel plate as he sang himself hoarse and delighted the small crowd. He wore only a loin cloth in the winter freeze while I shivered despite a sweater and a shawl. Next to him a small cloth bundle in which he carried his lack of possessions. People in the crowd gave him money, mostly five or ten rupee notes which he gratefully accepted, touching them to his head and then holding them towards the sky before leaving them on the ground.
Something in Bengali
“I don’t know Bangla”
“Oh, where are you from?”
“Bangalore”
“I’m sorry, I thought you were a Baul, you look like one, that’s why I asked you in Bengali, ‘what do you think of Bappi da?’”
“There must be something about being a Baba…see how many there are.”
Shankar Baba is possibly the nicest and most amicable Baba I have met, he gave me the address and phone number of his Calcutta Ashram. He was a Shaivite and I think he was trying to be funny.
“Do you think you can get me a job in
“What kind of job?”
“I don’t know, something easy?”
“What can you do.”
“Hmmm….nothing.”
“Erm…can you drive a vehicle, or cook or sew?”
“No”
“Can you read and write?”
“Yes, I studied till the eighth.”
“I don’t know if you can find a job very easily in
“What about a government job?”
Something in Bengali
“I don’t know Bangla.”
“Oh, where are you from?”
“
“Then what language do you in sing your songs in?”
“Huh?...NO!, I am NOT a Baul.”
“Doll set….Rs. 12”
“Toy air gun….Rs. 12”
“Toy train…Rs. 12”
“Magic box…Rs. 12”
And so on and so forth….
**********
"MANOJ!......MANOJ!.....MANOJ!"
With hundreds of thousands of people milling around, the narrow village pathways are jammed - people jammed. Even four adults holding hands can lose one of their friends causing the remaining three to walk around forlornly, still holding hands, yelling out their friend's name in hopes of a joyful reunion. From what I have learnt from Bollywood, they will not meet for another twenty years, by which time their long lost friend would have become an infamous underworld smuggler, while the other three would have joined the police force. It will be a tragic reunion for Manoj and his friends.
**********
"We all have wives and children, but every year, at this time, something stirs in our hearts and we have to leave them and make this journey to Joydev."
One fifty something man, who has been coming to the mela for the last forty something years told me about the origins of the mela. Apparently back in the day there was a Krishna Bhakt called Joydeva who prayed fervently for three days and then Krishna appeared to him and gave him the gift of writing lyric. He went on to become a famous poet who wrote a number of poems about Krishna and his playboy antics. He also told me there still exist the footprints of Krishna where he appeared to Joydeva, though I could not locate the spot from the directions he gave me.
In the centre of the village there stands a large, bizarre 13th century temple that is dedicated to Joydeva. It's walls are decorated with carvings illustrating the life of Krishna as well as some bits from the Ramayana. Overall the whole village as well as the mela has a Vaishnava feel to it.
"We all have wives and children, but every year, at this time, something stirs in our hearts and we have to leave them and make this journey to Joydev."
One fifty something man, who has been coming to the mela for the last forty something years told me about the origins of the mela. Apparently back in the day there was a Krishna Bhakt called Joydeva who prayed fervently for three days and then Krishna appeared to him and gave him the gift of writing lyric. He went on to become a famous poet who wrote a number of poems about Krishna and his playboy antics. He also told me there still exist the footprints of Krishna where he appeared to Joydeva, though I could not locate the spot from the directions he gave me.
In the centre of the village there stands a large, bizarre 13th century temple that is dedicated to Joydeva. It's walls are decorated with carvings illustrating the life of Krishna as well as some bits from the Ramayana. Overall the whole village as well as the mela has a Vaishnava feel to it.
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