chaotic order

Friends who know me well, also know that I love the genre of Horror in films and books. You may call me perverse, deviant or troubled - but to me, a well crafted piece of dark thematic work - touches a primordial raw nerve within, as much as the notion of "God" does. And what better place to be discussing the genesis of this morbid crooked fascination than in a hot Sauna - simmering at 140 degree Fahrenheit, with sweat dripping from every pore of ones body, and salty drops of it cauterizing the eyes as it slides unimpeded down ones face. We were three of us : Jason, Peter and me - all enthusiasts of darkness, and subject of conversation was the Devil ;and Movie directors Roman Polanski, William freidkin , Wes craven , whose work presented evil in a most chilling manner on screen. "You see" I said " Lucifer was after all a fallen angel. One of God's favorites. And what after all was his crime?. He decided not to obey Man - God's new fancy toy. And fo

In 2011 I remember hearing the news in Christchurch ,NZ that Dr. Siddhartha Mukherjee had won the Pulitzer prize for his book "The emperor of all Maladies". It so happened that there was a Borders books store near the hotel I was staying in; and I promptly bought a copy of it. Over the weekend, I nearly finished three forth of the book, riveted and absorbed in the brilliant story that Dr Mukherjee unfolded on the history, advent and search for a cure for Cancer. In many ways, the book was an eye opener; and the seminal message which came across to a reader was the frightening and chastising fact that cancer is really not a disease caused by any extraneous factors, but rather a state in which one's own body degenerates and mutates destroying itself in the process. And one does not know why it happens or when it can happen. It is utterly unpredictable and to a large extent unexplained as well. As I was taking my customary walk today, I was tuned into NPR. They were repl

I guess it was Alexander Pope who wrote " The proper study of Mankind is man". Nothing can be truer than this... During the course of a conversation with a gentleman today, he tells me that he has been spending three hours in the Sauna each day to get over his depression. And when I politely enquired about its cause , He very seriously tells me "I was dating this middle aged lady for the past two years, and now she has ditched me; and my new Brazilian girlfriend doesn't want  to marry me..". I couldn't help burst out laughing, and I did so. I don't think he was very happy with my reaction to his "agony", but, seriously - there was no other way I could have sincerely reacted. I know this gentleman for a while now. He is around his fifties, and a successful realtor in Georgia. He continued :" Somehow, this heat cools me down, and I feel very good. Last week, I nearly spent a whole day in an other fitness center... it helps me to get o

Sir Richie Benaud - A personal homage.. For those of us who are in our Mid forties and have spent most part of that time In India growing up watching cricket - the voice of Richie Benaud, the setting of MCG, the proliferation of colors on playing field , the transistion from five day game to the one day format - is probably the most cherished memories that we could ever hope to have of the game. What a breath taking spectacle it was? and what a revolutionary moment in the history of the game? When Kerry packer's Channel nine was refused broadcasting rights - the astute, charming, ruthless media Moghul went up to Australian Cricketing board and famously told them " Gentlemen, everyone has a little whore in them, Name your price? or I will redefine cricket...". The board did not budge, and Packer was true to his word. And thus was born the World series of cricket- a format of the game played with a flamboyant spirit, lots of money and an exposure and glamour that rattle

"Something, Anything" - A refreshing perspective on life.. When you think about it closely, it is not the big, major crises in life that really affect us over a period of time. A death in the family or of a close friend, or an illness, or an event that seemingly looks catastrophic - all these will pass away. There is an initial momentum of futility that sets in when they happen, but by and by, its intensity wanes, and the monotony of our daily lives anaesthetizes the pain, the suffering – and removes any possibility of deep reflection and change. It is in the small day to day acts that we so mechanically perform, the social obligations that we so willingly accept, the cultural imperatives that we allow to be forced upon us, the “accepted” way of life that we unwillingly acknowledge and tag along - it is these that take a toll on ones psyche in the long run. Boredom, depression and a sense of purposelessness are the hallmarks of modern man. We may cover it up with a thousa

Yesterday night, I revisited a book -, a series of dialogues by David Bohm and J. Krishnamurti entitled "The ending of time". No two men could have been so diametrically opposite in their thinking, vocation and approach to life; but as chance would have it - in the summer of 1965, at Saanen, Switzerland - these two men got together as a part of a group having discussions on life, consciousness and its objective manifestation. It was evident to those who were present there that something phenomenal was taking place , and there was a definitive need to bring the both of them together alone , giving them space and time to unwrap their perspectives on life, knowledge and human condition. Thus was born the JK-Bohm dialogues. Two sharp, incisive, sensitive, deep minds - one, an iconoclastic philosopher ; and the other- a living genius in the field of quantum physics - trying to investigate into human predicament without any prejudices or leanings. It had been twenty years since t

It has been a while that I written about a movie. Not that I have not been keeping abreast of my second love ( you know the first), but not been able to devote as much time to it as I would have liked - call it professional rigor or work life - whichever seems fancier to you. So today morning - a gorgeous Spring day in Atlanta - after I finished my customary weekend activities, I flicked through my list in Netflix hoping to slide down my Sofa with a packet of Potato chips, water and my digital writing app on my phone (to take down my impressions, notes, appreciations, sarcasm - whatever it may be) - to watch a "good movie". I was literally taken aback by the sheer number of movies in my wish list - some 200 odd films that I have added over the last six months. As I reviewed, I wasn't sure why some movies were on the list at all in the first place. There must have been definitely something about it that would have prompted me to add it when I did, but at this distance,