Amor Towles - Table for two

If Arundhati’s book was crushing and made me aware of her intense journey which was tough and as basic as it could be - staying in 1 room without furniture's, or fan or food at times working for days on drug induced haze and working to get 2 meals in place. And of course her mothers anger leading to her detachment with her family. It also made me aware to some extent her views on Narmada Bachao Andolan, Kashmir, Naxalites - a fight to save their own space & earth being plundered by privatization and politics of faith. The second part eas dark and made me feel helpless and anxious of what is happening to these people. I know reading a book or contributing some money or writing about them won’t help. What they need is a physical support not some armchair activism. It was not depressing but it was intense sadness which is not personal just like I felt this week when I read about Wangchuk being arrested or I read about deaths in Gaza and many other places. Their helplessness is something I can feel but cannot do much about.

On the other hand, few weeks back I read with the same feverish & intensity A table for Two. A collection of short stories which were so uplifting that I have not read something like that. Of course his more famous book "A Gentleman from Moscow” was similarly uplifting where the worst situation was converted to a positive manner.

The stories in A table for two are simple and gentle, it deals with day to day life, with the contradictions & self beliefs or principles we live with. Stories we tell ourselves only to be told by the author to re-examine them without preaching. Stories like “Bootlegger” or “I will survive” have a quiet sense of suspense which ends in a moment of sadness or beauty or an unexpected but gentle twist.

Many books you read for all the above but Amor Towles beauty lies in his craft, his sentences, dialogues, description - it’s like the cinematography or editing can ruin or make a film. I am a fan of his craft. My book of the year. 

https://www.amortowles.com/table-for-two-q-and-a/ read the authors interview. But after you have read the book.

Mary & Sussanne

For last 4 night + I was feverishly reading Arundhati Roy’s ode to her mother Mary Roy and to her journey from Kottayam to SPA, Delhi to acting, to script writing, Booker & now a activist writer. I am writing this post to exorcise my heightened awareness of her journey. It was intense almost like Shantaram the book about Mumbai underworld although this was about the under belly of Delhi and the powers that be (of Delhi).

I think most of us read The God of Small Things - loved it for reason not known to us (at least to me). It was not a love story, a crime novel or a saga. I couldn’t club it with anything it had it’s own language, own rhythm, own intensity - a latent anger which I could feel it in the language. The sarcastic tone / scorn. I read the book again few months back, when Somak who reviews books wrote about it in its 25th anniversary yr. And this time I understood a bit better - the whole story came back to me but I could relate to the English and the uniqueness much better. Having read 100’s of book in those 25 years I still found it unique.

But I never understood her move to activism - I never had the time. I read her next fiction which I found harsh and rough. It had the same intensity but the setting was a bizarre - graveyard, intersex women (hijra in common language) who has a guest house in the graveyard and lot of political overtone. The book explains why ? 

If you are curios about “Why does a person do what she does & why does a person become what she becomes?” you will fall in love with the book. Because the book is not just the journey but the Why? Of the journey - mental dialogues, view and perspectives which shaped her entry into films and then books. We all go thru it ? We all read about the success stories of CEO’s or great leaders - icons - They are printed because people want to become that. There are life lessons and aspirations for many.

This book falls does not fall into any of this category. Afterall, which booker winner has gone to jail, or has cases filed against her and gets death threats. Salman Rushdie maybe but for a different reason altogether.

I also loved it because in my heart I always wanted to be a rebel and became a small time one during my college and initial work life for a decade. The normal routine - nothing political. Then corporate life and raising a family consumed me, like it does for most of us coming from scarcity to money and it’s privileges.

I admired iconoclasts - still do. People who challenge the normal or do out of the ordinary. Hers was a unique combination of writing and activism which is become rarer and rarer in recent time. It’s a battle field which you get drawn into and need real belief, perseverance, ability to fight - physically and mentally, put relationships in block and a lot more.

I am too old for this - reading is the only way of experiencing it. Thank Orudhati.

Postscript:

After reading this I am curious to know why has Amitav Ghosh one of my favorite writer has become so obsessed with climate change that most of his recent books revolves around that.

Life = Thought Experiment

I could never read Gandhi’s book on his experiment, but yesterday I was engrossed in Arundhati Roy’s new book Mother Mary comes to me. As I read her relationship with mother and why she did her architecture and never went back home after 2nd and many other such decisions in life. This thought just popped into my head as I was taking a lazy morning walk on a start of Puja Holiday week. And I could feel it growing roots and shoots in my head. Hence some random thoughts below.

There are people who engineer their life and those who just float in the river of life and goes where it takes you. I always thought I am the later option but always went with the first option. 

So this year I started strengthening in our gym with an instructor after 3 months the instructor left and I too left the process going back to my daily routine of walk and exercise. At 56 most of my peers were doing this and I guess it helped. My body aches and occasions pulls and joins pains were becoming more frequent

Then I worked with a nutritionist for a holistic health n healing program to fix my stomach / sleep / throat etc. Worked with her for almost 5 months and learnt the basics - understood what works for me and what doesn’t, what can be done within the constraints of a family set up and now trying to follow that. 

After 3 years of volunteering, reading and learning joined an NGO and started more focused work on the triad of community - sustainability and SWM. I love the work, loved the people and happy that I can with some confidence say that I found my calling at 60.

After all this, my knee still hurts, back still aches - sleep is disturbed, have FOMO, have upheavals, get put off with peoples remarks and roam around like zombie at times when I don’t have enough sleep or go in a shell and sulk in a corner. 

So, folks close to me think, Dad’s - Hub’s confused, keeps trying things, giving up, unsure. Or maybe I have a low esteem and think this is what people thinks.

Yesterday I was listening to bohemian Rhapsody - In the end Freddie says - Nothing Really Matters. So True. But he did what he wanted to and maybe died a happy person.

Coming from an engineering background or maybe its just a capitalists thought that everything has to have a goal, output, solve something & when it doesn’t it irks us. Letting is a difficult proposition as we are hounded with our past experience and our natural instinct of tackling thing. Hard wired is more understood term.

I have been battling all this in the above examples of experimenting with myself. In the final analysis I go back to Freddie and I agree nothing else matters other than these experiments. Some make you stronger and some tire you out. Like the food battles I have been having at home and in my mind. (as by heart I am a foodie and the entire clan lives on junk food). 

I think I have rambled enough. Last word - Choose your battles and very clear when to Let Go else it can be a turbulent ride. But never say No to trying out new things.

C’est la vie

Write Something

Its been 4 m months since my last entry and its been an exciting run with work directed towards my calling. I can safely say I have found it what ever it means, I am guessing it means different to different person. So much so that I did not see a movie for a month, I did not write a single LinkedIn post, stopped composting and strict segregation, drove 60 km despite me hating to drive to Bangalore city and I AM excited that tomorrow is Monday. Every now and then, I felt the urge to write but it got drowned in chasing villas, weekend events, getting over the weekly tiredness and yes reading few good books. One I will finish today.  

Today, as I sat with a blank screen and closed door nothing was coming to my head. 

I told myself - Write Something ? 

Amit whose podcast The Seen and Unseen
is the only podcast I listened to over the years and one of oft repeated line is “Writing Shapes you?”. He often puts across that question to many of his guests. Gurucharan Das who was his guest recently says “It does not changes me but make me more aware.” I agree - writing is the only instrument which helps me and maybe  many of us reflect. Unlike thinking which after a point burrows you in a rabbit hole from which it becomes difficult to extract yourself, writing creates a space between the thought and the pen and the paper. One of the best thing about Service pace was the reflection exercise which we had to daily after reading, listening, seeing about a topic. I would back go back in my memory and thing how a particular idea like compassion played a role, examples recent and old, movies, activities so many things starts unfolding as you start writing. 

Like I did in last 15 minutes.

We have been having long discussion on dreams as it was my partners dream to own a villa, the original dream was to make her own house which slipped away as she had other goals to fulfill. So in most weekends, we drive 50 km away from city to see if we can buy something which suits our budget and her sensibilities. After one villa was loved and seemed perfect we decided not to buy it as it meant investing a lot of money on something which we don’t know we will live in or not. But it’s your dream - the girls screamed how can you say no to it. You have earned and saved for this. Because the argument was that if we don’t buy now we may not end up buying after 2 years when I will be 60 and she in mid 50’s. 

I had a dream of seeing the world which I gave up chasing, meaning I won’t regret now. Because the whole build up and the attachment to any dream kills the joy of enjoying a dream. It’s a weird way of putting it. I had rather drop it and be super exited amd max it even if I get to go to 1 country. Otherwise it becomes crossing a list. I wanted ipad, bose, a home theater in a basement surrounded with movie posters, where I can burrow myself in my movies. Yes sound romantic and worth chasing.

I no longer loose sleep on these things.

These days, if I get 7 hrs of good sleep, my bowels are clear, I eat good clean food, have a day where there is no conflict, read my paper or book in a corner of house  which has some sunlight - it’s a day where I have lived a dream.

C’est la vie.

Coping with Death

I met him almost after 6 months when I had got the message that his 13 yr old son died, he was normal at his work (from the outside). I hear my MIL sing Rabindra Sangeet once a week, I meet my partner daily coping with her frozen shoulder - her father died a year back, In most days I get up at 4 from dream and cannot go to sleep - My father died 8 years back, My closest relative, a cousin suffers from body ache, headache, fever, sinus etc - her husband died a year back, suddenly. 

Death leaves an unknown mark or is it the prelude to death? The caregiving, the feeling of pain and tension which one goes thru before your dear one passes away. 

My hypothesis is that death happens in a moment but what happens before that kills people around silently & unknowingly.

When I went to see a friend whose mother died yesterday, she said - the worst time was when she had to go to US on work and not sure will she come back in time. She added “But, Life has to go on, and she could not say NO to an invite from Stanford. 

That set me thinking and go back in time. I had a similar ‘life has to go on phase’ - working in Mumbai, and travelling back to Bangalore to take care of baba, taking calls when chemotherapy is going on or when he is being operated on to remove the tumor. When he died in 2 days I had to get Niki admitted to her college in Ahmedabad.

Travelling back in the flight after doing his rituals in Assam was my turning point or so I thought -  when I took the decision to leave my corporate job and save the world. 

But the life has to go phase continued for another 5 years because we needed the money. Looking back I often question this whole thing about Life has to go on concept & the concept of money and concept of achievement. With 2 grown up children just starting fresh in their career I understand it means different things to different people in their phase of life. 

Growing up we had very limited means, I often would say to people ‘that was India’s scarcity phase’ and then came ‘India’s prosperity phase’ where we had money and things to spend the money on - but I never realized the curse of prosperity or what it does to our mind-body-soul & earth. Do we really need that much money ? It comes with all the lifestyle related illness which we are laden with and many relationships either torn apart or grown cold. 

I came a full 360 degree and now I try to consume less not only material things but trying to adopt a plant based food. Slowing down and trying to care of my mind and body which has still not healed after so many years. 

I still need time to cope with the death of my parents and relationships which have died on the way and which has more long lasting effect than the physical one.

Rest In Peace for those who left the earth.

Reset - Recover for those who are still walking this earth.

Deep Sleep

I woke up from deep sleep and found the outside world in turmoil. The trees were swinging from left to right as if it will break in two. The sky was dark and cloudy and I could hear the winds blowing everything off the ground. I sat for a while to get my bearings - Where am I? 

Rains and me have a connection - It rained when I was born, It rained when I had gone to immerse baba’s ashes and it rained when my moms body was kept in the mortuary and I had gone to retrieve it. I was thinking “Is this the sign of my death, maybe it’s calling out to me”.

What if I die tomorrow? Will I have a regret. No my heart said echoing a song which gently cried in my ears “standing in the crossroad with no will to run”. Beautiful.  

I was seeing some graphic of a book called “Climate recipe” - a set of beautiful line drawing depicting the thoughts on climate rather climate grief which was there in a writers mind. This particular one was about 1 million animals who died during covid. And I felt wow - this is what one would leave behind and say - that’s it I have done what I had to. 

But there is no end to these thoughts - Today morning when I got up not able to force myself to sleep I stared at the set of 4 paintings which I made in 20 23, they depicted 4 seasons. When I selected it I thought it was a great idea, of season’s depicting life and was full of excitement. But the excitement died when the painting was done. Probably all painters, performers, writers think that way when there work is over. 

The death of a thought, an idea before a new one takes shape.

Life is an idea or is it. When sleep eluded me today morning and probably driven by my discussion on Matrix with my 22 year old the thought that Life is MAYA came to my mind. We are all just artists in a stage playing a role. 

Do we live in relationships or does relationships live within us ? Do you kill relationships or do they kill you. Weird thought but so true. It’s all in our mind, some would say - it’s all in our heart. I wouldn’t know mine got killed long back. I am just carrying a physical one which pumps blood. I don’t know how long it will, Honestly don’t care much.

My friends are obsessed with good goal, for earth, for people, for society and then you hear about 2 mad men with their finger hovering on the nuclear button, lakhs of people dying sorry millions dying in war & I am sure similar no of bird, animals & plants across the world. And it all looks like a sick joke, a false assurance that I am doing good for society. 

I am no different from them but I am tired now. I am just 55 but I feel 75, I am tired, exhausted. I just want to trade all my objectivity, all my goodness for my friends, for earth, for society with some deep sleep. 

Nothing Else Matters…..

Lamboo n ME

The first time I saw him, he was wrapped in bandages and next time there was a cone on his neck. The owners were a young couple who had shifted next to our house. Over last 30 days they did their best to save him from kidney failure, infection and many more. Later when things settled they explained that in human terms he was 75.

He became friendly with me, he will walk towards me or nuzzle me and always look at me with such kind eyes that it was difficult to say whether he was human or not. But he also did susu / potty in front of  my house and his bladder n stomach were both out of control. 

Then suddenly, I was told that they were going to Europe for a few weeks, and can I take care of Lamboo for a few days before his caretaker starts staying in the house. I had never done that but looking at his eyes and his condition, I did not have a heart to say NO.

They explained everything but next few days were a revelation in dealing with a pet. I had to be patient and caring with someone who was not like any other dog who was hyper active and over loving - dogs who express selfless love n care. He would just lie in the bed and after cajoling for a few times he would accompany me to the toilet and then take a walk to the balcony. But just after a few minutes it will just go and lie down at the couch and looking at me expectantly as if I have to give him something.

So I kept talking to him and he would just listen for a while and then after some time go to sleep.
Seeing a dog with such close quarters even for little time I could feel such a strong sense of compassion that I probably have not felt for many humans. It was a mix of helplessness and also a sense of responsibility but I never felt annoyed just pure love. As if we both have a common sense of longing and loss. I know he was missing the couple as he would go near their door and wait for a while, me cajoling in the background that they are not there come here and lie down, it’s ok they have not left you - Some random conversations like 2 people talking in their own language but still having a sense of understanding.

I will never forget how he would wipe his eyes like a child, cover his eyes and go to sleep, blocking the light as I would slowly get up and close the door to a world which touched me     in a way which can be felt not explained. Ya, but I tried.

Thanks Lamboo

And the year comes to an end - Adieu 20 24

 The recency bias

I got up to a crystal clear sky and bright sunlight which was so different from last few days which were foggy n misty with cold breeze blowing across. I was feeling a bit down - fever inside but not outside types & I was just not feeling like looking at the rear view mirror. But I have been putting this off for last 5 days busy striking off my list of mostly home chores. Now it feel like one of the books I wanted to read so badly but after reading 50 pages I didn’t feel like continuing. So on that melancholic note with Low Fi Coffee playing in the background and the sun setting on 31st Dec. I will try and pen a few lines

Life N Death and everything in between

Death creeped up on us in end Feb when Papa - Reema’s father passed away and after a few month Jamaibabu passed away in June. While this was defining moments which lasted for long there were many deaths around someone’s father / mother / uncle brother etc. I guess we are the generation whose previous generation is at that stage. On the other hand the biggest discussion in our house was about Nikita’s & Joyeeta’s job. Hours and hours of discussion which resulted in some reality check and way forward.

So that’s life - As one generation steps off the planet, another starts walking on their road.

Vanaprastha

Defined as way of forest or forest road is the third stage of the 4 stages of life as defined by Vedas in Chaturashrama - 4 stages of life.

Sitting with someone in the audience who looked scholarly and was aso listening told me he is in Vanaprastha stage - I was like ‘What” ? and he says that his focus on life is more for spiritual liberation and finding meaning. Me too - was my response although I never thought of it like that. But this year was kind of settling in for the long haul beyond wants and needs and desires. More importantly constant looking back and turning toward my past for answers. Moving away from the shadows of or ghost of a life in commercial train.

3 WORDS that appeared in front of me

I am not a believer but listening to Kabir or a qawaali or gurbaani or baul - spirituality haapens. What was different was this year these words formed in my mind 

Surrender - While listening to Gurbani on Shri Gobind Singh’s birthday at my apartment. I was sitting listening for almost an hour with my eyes closed. And as I walked away that’s the word which formed in my mind. It was a spiritual experience in some sense as there was no thought before that or after that.

Acceptance - On my way back from Solan seeing the young couples fight - make up - living together - common goal - bringing up - many incidents. But Happy in the end. As I settled into the flight back. These words came to me with a smile. A time when enthusiasm and the excitement of future brings curtains to the current unhappiness. We left it long back somewhere down the line may we rediscover it in 20 25

Merge -  As I sat listening to a singer in Salim Chisti’s dargah, in a misty and cold morning of Dec 24. It was a surreal moment for me, almost like a scene from a movie - the music, people moving around, people taking snaps, tying threads, beggars, large pillars of tomb and smell of rose flowers. Sitting there alone with just me - there was no thoughts, just me and the environment. There was no difference between me and everything else - we were one. Surreal but true. I had never felt like this before.

As 2024 merges with 20 25 - another year starts. 

A new beginning.