chaotic order

Jottings : Slice of life - 34 Though we prefer to be happy all the time,it is unmistakably true that nothing prepares us better to lead a fulfilled life than unhappiness, deep existential depression ,or to use Kierkegaard's term - a sense of despair about oneself and life around. It almost seems a contradiction in terms. While we make every effort scientifically, morally, ethically to improve the general happiness of Mankind, Man is essential unhappy within. This is a fact. But we do everything in our power not to face it. We try our best to reach a point of peace within the circumference of our outward experiences. Family, work, social life, religion - we try dabbling with all these to arrive there. But somehow despite all this effort, at odd moments, we are left utterly alone. A sense of gloom and despair pervades our being. Interestingly though, the most clarifying and transforming of experiences within an individual are often those which occur when they are in the depth o

Jottings : Slice of life - 31 Every year during the month of Ramadan, boys and girls between the age of 10 and 20 from nearly seventy odd countries congregate in the beautiful city of Cairo in Egypt. The purpose is to participate in Quran recital competition held by the ministry of religious affairs. The day of Ramadan is chosen for this event because it was on this holy day, nearly thirteen centuries ago, that the Quran was revealed. The competition in Cairo brings together diverse threads of Moderate muslims under one roof - for whom the Quran is not merely a religion or just a codified book of injunctions, but is a way of life that embraces everything from birth to death and beyond, and this particular competition in Cairo is perhaps the most prestigious and historic of many such events conducted across the globe. For a Muslim, Lacking physical manifestation or representation of God, the word becomes very important. They not only sincerely believe but are firmly convinced that e

Jottings : slice of Life - 29 Joseph Campbell, the great mythologist and professor of comparative religion, mentions a beautiful metaphor to indicate Human potential. Sea turtles lay their eggs about 30 feet from the sea, and when the young turtles, size of a nickel, break out of their shells, they immediately start scrambling towards the sea. They don’t have to be taught that if they tarry a moment longer than needed on the shore, they will be scooped up by birds waiting from their delicious arrival. Its biological and psychological structure has been programmed, wired from its inception to move swiftly towards safety. They also know how to swim, and water doesn't unnerve them. These were learnings, instincts hardcoded into them. They come into this world fully formed and equipped to lead lives in a manner chosen fit by millennia of evolution. They have no problems of schooling, tutoring or a learning curve, or even the inclination to learn, grow and transform themselves into

Jottings : Slice of life - 30 In the midst of all the euphoria surrounding Rajnikanth’s “Kabali”, I can only sympathize and pity the Person Rajni who has to endure all this. This may sound very strange to you. When a movie has raked in 250 crores on its release, screened across 8000 theaters worldwide, watched almost with frenzied religious fanaticism by every section of Indian society; profusely written, spoken and reviewed about in all forms of media, Daily lives forced to come to standstill in major Indian cities and beyond to honor the occasion of his movie release, ardent fans flocking and stampeding into screening halls with milk, garlands and other ritualistic paraphernalia to propitiate their God incarnate( as he appears to them) each time he appears on Screen - like the resurrection of Jesus - praying for immortality of their beloved superstar, Families forsaking their humble earnings to get an invaluable ticket to watch the first show in the hope of attaining fulfillment

Jottings : Slice of Life - 27 “The Intern” I am quite picky about movies I watch. Not that I rationalize, sift through options or always rely on favorable reviews to decide on what I wish to watch, but I primarily base my choice upon a gut feel cultivated over years of watching all kinds of films with a critical eye than most of them would care to. My watchlist on Netflix or Amazon or other online movie providers runs into hundreds. These are movies aligned purely on educated instinct. If you ask me to explain why a particular movie is on the list, I would not be able to point my finger on any specific reason. In fact, I wouldn't even be able to substantiate my choice, but like a trained cabbie who knows which roads to avoid at what times, how to quickly assess traffic conditions and a keen nose for cars and directions, one learns to react to good pieces of art through a very mysterious process in the brain. In fact, Malcolm Gladwell, in his brilliant book, “Blink” begins wit

Jottings : Slice of life - 26 He was a young man clad In a blue flowing Kurta and black jeans. His eyes were wide and deep, nicely trimmed beard, and he had an expression of confidence on his face. It was around 7.00 PM in the evening; and weather in Downtown Bethesda was humid and hot as it has been this entire week. The young man was profusely sweating, constantly dabbing his face with a towel in his left hand and holding a crudely written placard in his hand, turning it this way and that way to catch the attention of pedestrians walking swiftly past him trying to get into a some kind of shade and respite from the heat. None paid any attention, and even if they unconsciously did, the message on his placard was really something they could not or would choose not to readily respond. It read “ I am a Muslim by heart and practice and a true American by birth and nurture. Pls spend few minutes talking to me, we will dissolve our differences..” I have been watching him for last few

Jottings: Slice of life – 25 “Orlando” - a novel by Virginia Woolf To define the kind of person and writer Virginia Woolf was - is extremely difficult. Not because, she is difficult to categorize, or pin down to a particular genre of writing, or because her works are often personal ruminations, splintered sparks of consciousness clothed in prose, or because her stories are born out of deep depression, melancholia which afflicted her for most part of fertile literary life, or because she was a feminist who believed deeply that a woman can produce peerless works of fiction only when she is relieved of economic, moral and social necessities of life and living, hence her novels were always punctuated by women who strove for independence within and without. She is difficult to define because she was a genius, a rare flower of the twentieth century, for whom words weren’t mere dictionary jottings, but real, tangible, tactile sensations. Very few Women writers have so enamored the liter