The Call of the Wild

Chapters...

1.Into the Primitive
2.The Law of club and fang
3.The Dominant Primordial Beast
4.Who has won to mastership
5.The Toil of Trace and Trail
6.For the Love of a Man
7.The Sounding of the Call

    What do those chapters tell you?

    A book first published in 1903, the fact that it has stayed relevant today raises it above the 'story of a dog surviving in harsh conditions' view that appears on the surface. In an amazingly multi-layered, yet small book(you'll find yourself doffing your hats to the author for telling so much in so few words), Jack London takes you through a dog's, Buck's, journey through a harsh life. By making no attempts to explicitly juxtapose the events in Buck's life to man's own, he gives you the freedom to paint it in your head. It's a book that offers so much space for the reader to fill in his colors, his own thoughts. It's not Jack London writing a story, but you reading it. It's personal.

    From a princely comfortable life in 'the big house in the sun-kissed Santa Clara valley' to being the legendary 'Ghost Dog that runs at the head of the pack' is a journey that is ruthless, bloody and yet what every man aspires to do in life. The 'call' is what every man wants to hear, clear and loud. It is what every man wants to embrace.

'Harsh. Brutal. Strong.' {says the back-cover}

Read the book. {says I}

PS: After you read the book, have a look at the chapter list to find one of the best summaries ever written for a book. :)

To My Dear Watch

  
     Strange to observe that I didn't get time to write about you. Perhaps because you were not there to tell me the time.

    You might think that a guy who lost his mother at age 2, his dearest uncle when he needed him most, his dearest grandmom when he was too young to comprehend things would not be bothered much about the loss of such a thing as you, a watch, but I am grieving and how!!! I think of the past and so much of it is a journey we both made together.And all through it, you were my unflinching partner, never demanding, always yielding, accompanying me wherever we went.

    I remember those exams we studied together, those tests we wrote, those long moments we waited for her, those long moments which appeared so short when spent with her, those trips through the wild where the only sound was the bike's hum, those naps we took under unknown trees by the side of lonely roads, those waters we played in, those seas we bundled with joy in, those lonely nights we got through listening to song after song, those depressed moments we got through I don't know how, those sad months when it seemed grief was endless...I wouldn't have made it without you. And without you, life wouldn't have been what it was.

    I am so sorry I did not care for you that day you left me. I have since felt a hundred times that I should have fastened you a bit more close, a bit more tighter. you wouldn't have fallen away then. I can now only hope that you are happy wherever you are, and whoever found you is taking really good care of you. (I really wish that someone found you and you are with him... I know the pain of feeling lonely, and my eyes fill up when I imagine you lying in some unknown place, unused, disowned...)

    I miss you my dear friend. You will always remembered.

    I cry my last tears for you now...

10.58 PM on a lonely night

What's the one thing I would like to change to make this life of mine better? The one thing that I can make a habit in my life that would make a better me?

I think it would be a long long list for all of us. Wouldn't it be?

My mind just went for a ride thinking about all things starting from getting married to going for a jog, to just improving my tech skills to doing an MBA... so many things. Am I so imperfect? If I am, is it something I should be proud of or hate?

I read somewhere that change should be effected one thing at a time. Let me see if I can do that.

Tomorrow morning, I will go for a jog. This is something I can do anywhere in the world, irrespective of the place I am in. {Ok, maybe not if I am in Antartica or some such seventh or eigth continent which is too damn cold a place...}.

Ok. So "Jog" is my FIRST CONSCIOUS HABIT. Sorry. WILL BE my first habit.

PS: BTW, I'll be getting a wireless internet connection tomorrow. Hope I will be able to blog regularly, now that I am alone here and there's more space in my head to fill with the time continum.
PS1: By the time I posted this from office, I had gone for the jog in the morning, on a wet beach... the weather today morning was AWESOME

A walk in the park

There's a park behind my house. My grandfather, Tata I call him in my mother tongue, goes there for his walks. That day, some day I forget when, depressed as I was with my life, I decided to go for a walk in this park. So off I went with my iPod, listening to some songs...

Anyways, as I was walking the walk in the park... I came across my grandfather. Beside him was a boy, about 6-7 years old, holding my grandfather's hand and walking beside him, occasionally nodding his head to something Tata was telling , and stopping now and then looking inquiringly at Tata. When I had, in my childhood, heard stories from Tata, maybe I looked like that kid. Maybe I had the innocence and the time then, to pause, to listen, to wonder, to laugh and to cry, to jump with joy, to just hold his hand and walk. As I passed by them, saying a "Tata, I felt like coming here today... So here I am, walking" type of "Hi" to my surprised Tata and giving him a knowing smile, I think I envied the child's innocence and wondered if and when I had lost the child in me.

I had walked a little further, with the songs, and wandering in my thoughts, when two grown up men, the kind of whom we call 'uncle', passed by. They were busy one was on the phone talking something, and the talk was as fast and brisk as his walk. The other was swinging his arms wildly in supposed exercise motions. They signified purpose in their every action, were intense in whatever they were doing. They seemed that they had a purpose to walk there, and they wanted to make maximum use of the time they had. I could guess from their walk and crisp talk that they were the men from the modern world, men whose time came at a premium, and who intended to change the world with their skills. Men who had no time for stories when they were creating their own, men who had no time to listen when they were to make theirs heard. Those gentlemen I can bet had hardly noticed anyone else in the park.

I stood between the two, Tata and the child, and those two and for a moment, wondered what I'd be. Then, in a moment of madness or call it what you may, I switched off my iPod, walked back to where my Tata was narrating a story to the kid, held his hand and walked with him.

The Search for Mine

I searched.

Searched for a person who would make me theirs.

 

I found my grandpa.

He taught me to read, he taught me to write,

He taught me to play, and pray,

He is a teacher, the best of it’s a kind,

I, a student, the worst,

And when I look up into his eyes,

My heart says,

He loves you with all he has,

But you are not his.

 

I found my grandma.

She cooked the sweets, and washed the plates,

She nurtured me back to health when I was ill,

She is the person who made me stand,

Who makes me stand even today,

And when I look up into her eyes,

My heart says,

She loves you with all she has,

But you are not hers.

 

And so there were, and are,

My aunts, and uncles,

My sisters and brothers,

And those few gems of friends,

Who gave me their love,

And yet, when I look up into their eyes,

My heart says,

They love you with all the have,

But you are not theirs.

 

And then one day,

I found the girl, the person I adore,

With all I have,

And thought my search had end,

But then it showed,

Love its colors in real,

And when I looked into her eyes,

My heart said,

You must be kidding,

How can you be hers?

 

One day the final,

It dawned on me,

To look for the person from whom I was made,

Whose love I had not missed,

For I had not seen,

Amongst the fractured love that drowned me in,

I looked now, for amma.

 

Alas, amma, why did you leave me?

Should’ve taken me home…

Should’ve taken me home…

 

Dev D- A ReViEw

Rating : 10 out of 5 stars…. I Loved it. ABSOLUTELY. 

You’ll be blown away in the first 5 minutes. Its got perhaps the best OPENING 5 min… and I mean literally OPENING… 

What follows is an irresistible sequence of events, a racing screenplay, unbelievably realistic dialogues, superbly choreographed songs that blend into the story so much that you don’t even realize there are so many tracks, amazing acting … man this movie has everything. 

To me, this movie is a movie for a life time. The feelings portrayed, the dialogues and the foul language were an instant connect. 

Watch this movie for the feel you’ll come out of the movie hall… 

And trust me, you can watch it more than once, and you’ll never tire of it… 

Great Movie. Must WATCH. 

Kudos to: Anurag Kashyap the director, Abhay Deol the hero, and the two heroines... 

Tauba Tera Jalwa… Tauba Tera Pyaar… Tera Emotional Atyaachaar……..

 

J

Black

The eyes, the hair,

The future and the past,

Both black, both dark,

Seems so gloomy in my lot.

 

Of black I think a lot,

Of black futures in my thought,

Of a forgotten past that haunts,

And a love that taunts.

 

Amidst the black,

I ask,

Is there white in my rack?,

Will I be back?

Coffee

The bitter and the sweet,

Together form a treat,

Waking me from the slumber,

Of sleepiness, sorrow and dreamy wander.

 

Of milk, water and sugar,

Of love, cries and laughter,

Of sleepy eyes and lost nights,

Of dazzling mornings and hazy noonss…

 

Life’s full of coffee

Sugar sweet and bitter caffeine,

Both blended in beautiful haste,

Drink it, don’t let it go waste.

Are you happy?

You wanted me close, or to go far?

Didn’t you love me when I was so near?

Or was I a fool like everyone

In thinking that I was the only one?

 

I gave you a place here,

Here, where I heard you so clear.

I thought that that’d be so nice,

I didn’t know there’d be so much noise, and I’d lose my own voice.

 

You say now I leant on you too much,

But I just showed my world as such,

To you my love, I gave everything,

Thinking that it was the diamond ring.

 

You damned the cracks you saw in me,

You dreamt of a life I’d never be,

To you, my past was dust, the future full of rust,

And I was left, with my world crushed.

I had to do this, or die,

I had to throw you out of that place or cry,

And now I have to fight myself, (as much as the world),

For an honor and an insult of my wounded self.

Are you happy?

Are you happy now???

 

 

 

Who?

He’s deaf and dumb, or so you think. People have given up on him. “He don’t hear a thing”, they say. “Oh him? He’s deaf and dumb like a dead duck”. Yeah, that’s what they say. They say, he’s as meek as a trained cat. Harmless, a dumb waste on earth, good for nothing. He just doesn’t exit, merely passes by existence.

Oh you’ve got to speak to him now. Make him understand. He’s no dumb fool, not a meek cat, Goddammit, he’s a giant. He can do things that those lilliputs around him can’t even think of. 

Oh you’ve got to speak to him. You see, he ain’t deaf or dumb. He’s just been fooling those morons out there around him. He’ll listen to you patiently. He’ll talk to you, if you hear him. 

He’ll break through that jail. He’ll run the miles. He’ll take you to your dreams. He’ll take you with him. Who?

He’s the giant with you. He’s in you.

PS: This is my tribute to one of the greatest movies ever made.

      To “One flew over the Cuckoo’s nest”.

Love Letter

Dear Sleep,

Dearest Sleep,

My love,

            I love you. I want to make love to you. On the most comfortable bed that I can find, or on the floor, or on the table, or wherever you want to. I want to dream those sweet dreams with you. I want to lie in bed with you all day long.

            You are the person who makes me happier than anybody else. I would give my life for you, for a couple of hours in bed with you right now; I could give up a couple of hours with Angelina Jolie in bed, that’s how much I love you.

            Pain, sweet pain. That’s what I experience from this distance between us today. Ah! What a joy there is, in this pain of waiting for you, in this hourly minutes that pass by while I  am lost in the dreams of the times we have spent together.

            I will wait dear, for you; I will wait for 24 more hours. Alright, I’ll give a bonus of 45 minutes more…

            I love you, my dearest. You are always in my eyes, if not in my heart.

Yours forever,

Forever yours,

Until we meet again,

Yours when eyes closed, yours when eyes open,

Abhi

 

 

 

 

Tatana Kathegalu- Huliyaar School

I was a primary school teacher in a little known village called Huliyaar near Tiptur, Karnataka. It was the days when Mahatma Gandhi was still fresh in the minds of people; maybe, I think a decade after we had gained freedom.

At that time, I was full of energy and ideals, having taken part in the freedom movement, and having the dreams of ‘Rama Rajya’ still alive in my heart. It was also a time when teachers were actually respected and revered, also a time when teachers strived to earn that respect and reverence of students by their quality of teaching. 

The school at Huliyaar was a dilapidated building which would leak when it rained. It was also very small for the number of students, as students from near-by villages and hamlets also came to this school.

It was decided then that we would form a committee which would work towards raising funds so that we could build a new building for the school. Committees in those days actually did do some useful work. So a committee was formed, comprising several teachers at the Taluk level and a few teachers from our school including me. I, being full of energy, and being known for my integrity and willingness to work hard for the sake of students, was made the secretary.

From then on, for a year or so, ideals and energy driving our hearts, we worked towards gathering the money. We requested rich landlords to fund our project, and grant land. We staged dramas in villages and gathered the money we earned there. It was hard work, and when it was done, we had a sum of about 1.5lakh Rupees and the land for building the new building.

You see, what me and my hard working team didn’t realize is that there were people even then who were morally corrupt, and were no less than the modern corrupt officials and politicians. Immediately after the funds were raised, members of the committee voted to make one Mr. Ramamurthy as the secretary, explaining that I was needed in ‘other’ useful activities now. Most of us who had worked hard to garner that money were simply put in useless posts of no consequence. The money which we had broken our backs to earn was swindled out right in front of our eyes, and how!  The students of the school were put to work, to construct the building, and the smart committee showed labor costs in the account books. They swindled money to such an extent that before the roof of the building was up, the funds were exhausted. It was an open secret then that they had swindled and looted the funds. The committee members promptly got themselves transferred to other schools, and the new people folks who came to our school had no idea what to do about the half–done building.

You see, I was a fool then. I should have realized then that I should never have done anything for those unworthy idiots. But I felt for the students. I funded the rest of the building with an insurance policy of mine that had matured. The committee promised they would return the money. Their promise ended at the opening ceremony of the school, where they presented me a bouquet of flowers.

What a legacy of corruption those corrupt acts have created! Today, it is everywhere. Even the parliament. What can we do? Go to court? If it takes 10-20 years to prove a murderer as a murderer, I don’t know how long it will take to prove such corrupt acts. You see, most people are rotten. As long as their morality and ideals are wrong, no court, no law, no policy is going to work. Rama Rajya is best forgotten, I guess. Sometimes I think people who fought so hard for this country don't deserve to see this. But then such is life… Earlier it was the British. Now it is Money and Power. Maybe some are just meant to be slaves, some are meant to fight and die, some are meant to fight, live and die.

Music – September

Featured Band: Tool

If you haven’t heard them, you've missed a lot. ‘Tool’ is one of my favorite bands, and has to its credit some of the best songs ever made. The track ‘Lateralus’, in which the syllables of the vocals are in Fibonacci sequence(so are the drum beats), is an awesome track. The essence of rock music, I think, is to identify and lend its meaning in the context of one’s life, and this song has meant so many things to me at different times. ‘Schism’ is another track that is one of my favorites. Its guitar riff is something that I absolutely love and I am sure it will stay with you from your first listening. If you are really interested, please do check out the lyrics of this song HERE. 

My top ten songs for this month are:

(Song name-band/album/movie) 

1. Schism – Tool
2. Bittersweet Symphony – The Verve
3. Painkiller – Judas Priest
4. Beat It- Michael Jackson
5. Ondonde Bacchitta Maathu (Kannada) - Inthi Ninna Preethiya…
6. Gudugudiya Sedi Nodu(Kannada)– Raghu Dixit
7. Kangal Irandhal(Tamil)- Subramaniapuram
8. Bharath Humko Jaan Se(Hindi) – Roja
9. Baavra Mann(Hindi)-Hazaaron Khwaishien Aisi
10. Teri Deewaani(Hindi)– Kailash Kher

 

(Note: The above mentioned songs are not necessarily contemporary as can be seen by the absence of songs from “Rock On”. They are merely songs which have been played most on my system and iPod this month)

Yappaaaaaaaa……

Situations arise in my life, almost every hour, when I am in conflict with what I think I have to do, and what I feel like doing. I would like to be with my friend watching a movie, but I have to work now; I would love to have that sweet, but I think I am growing fat and need to cut down on my sweet habits. I hate the job but I think, since they are giving me an onsite opportunity, let me stay a few more months. I feel I should have been given a good appraisal but I think I got what I deserved. I think I have to study, but I feel like sleeping. These are situations I constantly encounter. Everyday, every hour.

Am I to live with this through out my life? Am I to constantly spend my energy in willing myself to do something, rather than spend it on actually doing it? Am I to die like this, like a man torn apart on the inside, trying to hold things together on the outside? Why is this conflict? Why is it that my desires which should have culminated in happiness constantly yield the opposite? Who the hell is asking all these questions inside me? Are so many different clones of myself inside me, or are they voices of the same thing? Who am I?

A Long Time Ago

“Low Petrol”, she thought, as she waited in her car for the green at the signal. Switching radio stations impatiently, she cursed the stations for playing the junk that they play.

Two girls crossed the road in front of her car, on their way to school, hand in hand, chattering about something. Somehow, she felt sure, that their conversation would be better than this radio. She felt the admiring glances of the two girls on her as they passed by.

She remembered her school days, the days when she had dreamt of today. She had dreamt as a kid, just like those girls were now dreaming. The car and the radio to herself, the money to herself, her life to herself. Today was the day she had dreamt of, then… that day… when she had crossed the road with Krupa alongside. 

Krupa was her best friend. She had walked to school with her. She had ridden with her to college. She had been her confidante, her support, her companion. Today, Krupa was getting married.

She thought of the times they had spent together, the joys they had shared, the pain they had tried to bear, the problems they had negotiated … the shopping they had done, the guys they had talked about, the films they had seen, the places they had been to. 

The light turned green, as she instinctively drove to the office through the maze of traffic.

Pushing her thoughts aside, she tried to focus on what she had to do today. Today was an important day in her career, she told herself. Today, the website she and her team were developing would go live. The satisfaction of doing a job well… this was what she had strived for. She would be happy, she told herself, her hard work would be appreciated, and the accolades would start pouring in. 

She had been happy once. The world had seemed so relaxed… “That seemed such a long time ago…” she thought. 

She stepped into the reception of her office, the chill of the AC welcoming her. Just as she stepped into the lift, her mobile beeped. It was a message from Krupa: “Where are you?”