The Shooting Star

"Thar she blows," I heard on the laptop somebody was playing a movie on, as it turned out the geeks were never in doubt about what they wanted to bring to a train.  Entertainment that's all they wanted and in their quest for it, they labored through movies ranging from the docile love stories to the stormy passionate ones, there was action too, and that's what I heard on the laptop, sounded like one of those war ship movies, there was a lot of noise of stormy seas and splashing of water as the sailors tried to keep the ship afloat.

The train was rocking, it was probably the tracks, they were old and the clatter was keeping the passengers quiet, the attendant walked in with a tray full of fruit juice, there was apple, banana and orange, I kinda preferred the mixed juice but they didn't have it, so I picked up the orange juice for myself and an apple for Anjali.  It was tangy and sweet but there was nothing about it that made up for the pieces of oranges that floated in the drink, it was sweet and soothing for the mind, it had the flavor of large wine drink in the mid summer afternoon, and my mind started to drift to earlier conversations.

"The wine glasses in the art magazine, they look fantastic."
"Any idea how they are made ?" I asked equally curious about what she had read.
"They say that the wine glasses are smoldered through a cauldron and the smoke is felt through the glass to give it shape."
"Isn't that the best possible way to make things work ?"
"I was thinking maybe it is rational to think of questioning the established authority glass making," she said mockingly.
"That seems to be alright assumption."
"So what if I put the melted glass through a pot of sand and leveraged the pieces to get the ideal mix out of everything, see the melted glass would create very creative art pieces and then these could be cooled down in cauldron of water to give them solid shape," she said thinking, obviously she had done a lot of thinking while I had been designing my computer system.

All thought came from our senses and our senses received these inputs from some "matter" as yet undefined in my head, so if all our actions were a matter of the information that our senses receive then surely there was going to be a vast quantities of inputs that our senses would receive from our environment.  To sift through these inputs would be the job of our mind and it came to traditional pass that if we could define this "matter" then we were all in control of our lives.

The "matter" that gave inputs to our senses and hence made our thoughts dependent on was largely emotionless and probably connected to the cosmos.  In line with whatever the rest of the world thought, the Cosmos is much larger than what seems like the sum of two numbers, it is frequently thought to be inaccessible and yet at the right moment there is a tell tale sign that leaves us mighty befuddled.

"I saw a shooting star last night, it trailed a glorious blaze across the skyline, a tiny wisp of a star with a blazing tail, it was a lovely sight," I said trying to hint that all creativity, as it was a information received from our senses, was Cosmos's creation.
"It must have been a wonderful sight," she said now moving away from the art magazine.
"I walked across to the balcony for a tiny fraction of seconds, must have been like 15 of them, and there it was riding right across the sky."
"What timing ?" she said equally unsure what she was supposed to say, thoughts and especially philosophical ones are not easy to answer back to.
"I was amazed too, if I had been 5 seconds either side of the clock, I would have missed it."
"There must have been a reason to why you were there on the terrace at that point in time."
"I have been wondering about it ever since, was I meant to see it, at that point in time, was I specifically called by the Cosmos to behold this wonder and I distinctly remember it was 4 am in the morning," I had this questioning tone but found no answers forthcoming, "Sometimes we see things because we are meant to at a certain point in time in our life cycle."
"The standard deviation from say an art magazine to a research on the Cosmos are two different topics aren't they."
"The purists or classics as I have often called them think only rationally and therefore they never get past their dogmas and the theorems, to them life is a formula, either you have it or you don't."
"So what am I ?" she asked equally involved in the conversation, I had always thought of her as an artist caught up in the corporate entity, often it is thought that is the normal thing to be working in a corporate and be stuck with jobs that we don't want to do.
"Do you like your job ?"
"Not too much," she replied casually.
"Then don't stick to it, if you have the courage, leave it and walk out to a new world that is your creation, where your creativity defines who you are, however you do need the job, then stick with it and stop cribbing about the bosses and the colleagues and the work culture," I said rapidly, after all it wasn't a question of whether Anjali was a classical or romantic bent of mind, it was important for her to figure out what she was doing with her life.

She was stunned to hear me talk like this and for a moment I thought I had said the wrong, she recovered her composure and continued to browse through the magazine.  To soothen the blow I spoke softly now, "I left the corporate world some 4 years back and never looked back, its been a tough ride discovering what I have wanted to do but here I am today, just happy."
"I want to be happy too."
"Then follow your heart and the Cosmos will hear you and connect you to its source, there are things waiting to happen and open up as you take up what your heart beckons you to do."
"To Learn Who Rules Over You, Simply Learn Who You Are Not Allowed To Criticise."

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Oranges in Spain -VI

There were times during the train journey that my mind was wandering, the thing that was strangely obvious was that this trip was going to be another belter, I had come out of my reverie with Anjali talking about the configuration that her computer should have, hardware configurations always got my head in the right place.  Hardware configurations were a matter of personal preference and that being a matter of interest to a person more than the community.

So an I5 would look pretty similar to the following :

Pentium I5 processor with expandability options
Minimum 4 GB of RAM
1MB L2 cache
DVD R/W


This was the bare minimum that would be required to make a creative person make full use of her talent.  On the whole there was barely anything to it, if there was a part of the computer that was under utilised.  So, under normally circumstances there wasn't anything that could be said about how to buy computer except walking into a showroom and picking up the configuration that was planned for and then paying for the bill and walking out of the showroom with the buy.

Then it happened, a flash of lightening in my head as it often happened, buying as always was a pleasurable activity especially the kind that leads to taking the load of the head, so I visualised myself walking into a showroom filled with computers, the Tata Croma showroom was the ideal place for such an activity, it was a largish showroom with a ramp that took you down to the lower mezzanine where all the equipment was stacked.  It was like a 3 D walk through that was running through my head, technology had this thing that moved me, it had a calming effect on me, like food for the brain, human beings were more focused on the mind then they were on the heart, if the mind was calm then all was generally well.

This was akin to a computer, all parts, some moving some semi conductor driven, requiring just electricity to drive them, if all was going well, these parts seldom thought of anything else, they just mechanised with each other and worked on a full scale.  The heart of the matter was important aspect of the technology, easily forgotten amidst all the humdrum of daily life.

Like magic the attendant appeared again, "do you want some more tea," he asked and we both acquiesced.
"How is the dinosaur in your garden doing ?" I asked her.
"What do you mean."
"I mean that new guy you are seeing, all well with him ?"
"Ah, him, he is fine, I haven't spoken too much to him lately, there is no time."
"We have nothing if time," I said casually.
"Yeah, but he is too much time at work."
"And so are you," I retorted back. Relationships weren't like machines, they required very good caring and loving, it was the heart of the matter that was important, "Do you love him ?"
"I don't think I love anything in this world."
"You love your Channa Bhatura," I said, referring to the Indian snack she so enjoyed, "Should I order some for you ?"
"I'd love that," she was right back in the mood, for a moment I thought she was going into a negative frame of thought, but then we were right there now.  I pointed to the item to the attendant and he understood immediately what we wanted.

Machines could have heart too, I think that is what Artificial Intelligence, also called AI is trying to develop in machines, R2 from Star Trek had more heart than most human beings, he was so attached to Luke Skywalker that there wasn't anything more he wanted than to be with his master.  The term "master" was probably derived from Asimov's definition of a "Slave" and "Master" methodology that computers worked on, till they invented the peer to peer protocols that allowed machines to see each other as equals rather than a server driven methodology.

The Channa Bhatura arrived, it tasted like heaven, she ate every single morsel and even licked her fingers like a kid, it was fun seeing her eat, almost like a cat that had had its cake and the cream too.  Sated, she decided to go through the art magazine that I had got back from our co-passengers and she starting leafing through it, I had made notes on the magazine and she eyed them quietly, that was the thing about her, she loved reading my notes because it opened her eyes to my thought.
"Beauty Is Where The Heart Is"

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Oranges In Spain - V

The train attendant was serving another round of tea when the driver braked suddenly, was it the signal or something else, it was a foggy evening and the night had descended on us, we had travelled two and a half hours and it was beginning to dawn on us the importance of being in suspended animation with our co passengers.  The train stopped at a small station for 5 minutes, during which the outside world became evident to us.

"What station is that ?" I asked the attendant.
"Tohana," he said with knowingly, they all felt that way when they knew something that the other didn't, but in this case it was somebody reassuring us,"we have a two minutes stop here, its a small town famous for its vicinity to Damdama Sahib where the famous Sikh guru, Guru Tegh Bahadur had his hometown."
"Seems like a very small town," I said eyeing the station that was small enough to be called a Level C township, " more like a village."
"It looks strangely quiet and peaceful," Anjali continued as the attendant walked off to serve the other passengers.
"Small towns give me the feel of people who have been there and done the real thing, they don't need any road signs to tell them where they are going."
She smiled smugly, she knew my disdain of road signs, and my feel for country roads and the liking for the scenery.  She knew I loved the city but travel had to be in the country.  Road Signs were meant for people who knew exactly where they were going, in a hurry to get to the destination ignoring the not so obvious beauty of the journey.  The train started to move and gather up speed and momentum.

"Isn't it strange that the moment the train stops the conversation also stops," asked Anjali, actually it was more of a comment than a query.
"The spell is broken as we reach a destination."
"I hate travel and you know it," she said tweaking her nose.
"I know, I know."
"I wish they had faster trains, cutting down travel time," she for the first time acknowledged that technology had its finer points.  Technology was methodical and precise, the more accurate the better the results.

The Shinkansen in Japan had achieved speeds up to 320 km/hr and test speeds of over 400 km/hr, sitting in the Shinkansen would make up our journey in one hour.  With technology upgradation came the need for cultural acceptance, people who preferred country roads wouldn't ride in the Shinkansen even if the cat was after their life, it wasn't as if these people didn't understand technology, it was just that they preferred longer journey's that provided knowledge and understanding of the world.

Technology upgradation for a train meant laying down new lines, understanding infrastructure requirements like train sheds and parking bays and even though the Shinkansen ran on standard gauge it had taken Japan well over 50 years to reach the speeds of today.
"Where is that art article you were reading ?" she asked curiously.
"I passed it on to the lady in the next seat."
"Do you think I would excel at languages like Geetika, I have been thinking of learning a new language," she continued and I was listening.
"You have everything going for you right now, what language are you thinking of doing, I could suggest Spanish, French or Italian."
"I haven't decided that as yet though Spanish seems just right."
"Spain has a history and culture that spans the continent, the language is spoken by as many people as Mandarin, maybe a little less than that but is catching up."
"I could do a course that gives me a degree in the language and then move to translation, don't you think ?"

The speed was increasing and without knowing the buzz of the conversation had also caught up, we were moving again and in the middle of mustard fields and chirping birds that were endless, I was thinking of languages in the coach, they were a mixture of English, Hindi and Punjabi all that I understood, was catching strings of conversation going on between people around us, it was hard to concentrate but I understood the significance of what had been told to me right now.  Anjali wanted to be afoot with newer things, she wanted to try her hand out at new ideas and concepts that were a conceptualisation of all that she was today.

"Wouldn't it be fun to buy a new computer for your den?" I asked her thinking she was ready for the new Pentium I5.
"I kind of like that idea, why don't you select one for me ?"
"That's easy, a fast computer with lots of memory would be ideal for you, you could publish mails, newsletter and modify graphics on its fast graphic card, all part of your work profile."
"I like these new desktops with good audio."
"Yes that would be important part of your work."
"Yes, I am sure there are half a dozen DVDs in the market that I could browse."
"I got this new DVD with the art magazine," I said showing her the DVD in its cover, she took it from me, opened the cover and had a look, "Isn't it the magazine itself on the DVD ?" she asked.
"Yes, that is correct."

We were two hours from our destination and I was sure there was more conversation that would pick up and I had to plan her new computer, my mind was already churning out configurations.
We Dream And So We Are.

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Oranges in Spain - IV

The train was speeding at high speed, the scenery around us was a blur, the lights in the train glowed to a bright blue, the humanly conversation was fading into the whir of the wheels and as we approached another non-decrepit station where we wouldn't stop, I put a blanket around Anjali, she seemed to be so deep in thought that she didn't notice that it was getting colder.  I was thinking of the trains and the passengers, we were suspended in this train, far away from the thoughts of the others.
"There is something really romantic about a train journey," I said with nostalgia on my mind.
She was far away, and still thinking, "I suppose you could say that."
"Take for instance, this thought that there is no destination," I said trying to get her attention.
"But there is a destination."
"If there weren't then would we still travel in the train," I said still trying to wake her up.
"I suppose then this would be suspended animation," she said finally thinking.
"The train by all means seems like medium to get to a place, however to the contrary, its a tool with its own personality and fixtures that make it up."
"That is correct."
"Well, how often have we seen that with equipment, it is built to last and perform a certain activity, over and above its lifetime, if the equipment is taken care of then the equipment performs well past its life time."
"Certain nostalgia about living with equipment that loves you back, isn't it ?" she said knowingly, though I knew she was just beginning to understand my fascination with new equipment.

The first piece of equipment that I ever owned was a hand held video game, I remember, PacMan, these funny little creatures that gobbled up everything and had to scurry around from other equally menacing looking predators.  I owned the game for over 4 years and I think my fascination with equipment and understanding of it started from there.  PacMan was around the ubiquitous "theory of survival", we all eat others to live and run from creatures that try and eat us in order to preserve our species.

"Do you see that lady in the pink ostentatious suit sitting and chatting with her friends ?" I asked nonchalantly pointing to no one in particular.
"She is dressed like the peacock ready to charm the peahens."
"See, that is the typical Punjabi lady, they dress to flaunt their money," I said knowingly now and she smiled at me knowing that I was a Punjabi too.
"I don't see you dressing up to charm feathers off though."
"I have function on this Earth and abide by it, every human being is sent to this earth with a certain genetic code built into them.  It's the concept that machines are built on, difference being that human beings have pleasures to distract them, while machines run on true concept."
"Interesting, so that lady in the Pink Suit was brought to this Earth with "Ostentation" code ?" she asked slightly more interested now.
"Do you think that she is truly what you see, she is probably covering up for her inadequacies, which would imply that her code would be "Cover Up".

The point that I made to her was pedagogic and could well have been taught in a structured form in a philosophy class.  The "Cover-Up" lady continued her rapid fire conversation with her friend, they were talking in Punjabi, the kinds that made city goers like me salute her skill at the language, Anjali was beginning to listen in too though she understood very little of the language, curiously when there is curiosity there is learning.  Her skills at being an attentive listener not withstanding she had this innate art of being structured in her thoughts, well read and creative, she not only excelled at her work but also formed bonds with friends and family that lasted for eternity.

It was indeed interesting that I could continue to talk to her and not get bored, my prolonged presence in her life had given me a sense of purpose as also a sense belonging, as far as I could think I hadn't formed a long lasting bond like this, so was it possible to modify the genetic code bred into our head, I decided to give it further thought and quietly went back to reading an art magazine that we had purchased before our departure, this magazine had all kinds of articles, there was one that interested me and I started reading it.  The propensity for human beings to romanticise about their creations is unparallelled, the sculpture I was staring at was built like a monument in its miniature form, the curves on it developed from the mind of the artist, every artistic creation was a thought process in the artists mind.

"She is wearing some nice earrings, and a gold necklace to match," Anjali said taking my attention away from the magazine, "I wouldn't think of buying that jewellery even if I had the money to buy it," she was always very prudent in her buys.
"Well, she could be you in another world."
"And how's that ?"
"What if she did everything that she didn't do, like eating fat food, wearing designer jewellery, moving around in flashy cars and relating to false friends."
"How could she be me, if she didn't do a single thing I do ?"
"If we are the creations of a larger mind in the Cosmos, then it is the Yin and Yang, the two sides of a coin that must and do exist together, each nothing without the other though diametrically opposite," I must have sounded like I had thought about this, however I was thinking even as I was talking, "so in all probability there would be more of you depending on your likes and dislikes, the point being that your friends and family that you relate to are your own and we together form a world that is different from the world that they form with their friends and family."

Anjali understood this immediately now and when understanding dawned on her, it brought a smile to her face, it always did when she understood an abstruse point that I was trying to make, I didn't do this deliberately but it so happened that my thoughts became clearer to myself as I shared it with her. Cosmos had a philosophical term for it, it was called "Parallel Universe," and Anjali being a keen reader related to it immediately.

To me, this sharing of thoughts with her was akin to moving from lateral knowledge to frontal knowledge, thoughts that came directly from the front as I moved further in life.  My notepad was always ready with me to jot down points that came rapidly into my mind and nowadays it was always overflowing.  The art of assimilation had dawned me, when Arun had shared "Zen to Done" with me, a remarkably small book but filled with tit bits about how to manage life professionally,

"The Things That Matter The Most Should Never Be Left 
At The Mercy Of The Things That Matter The Least."
                                                       --- Goethe

Nowadays I followed the policy that could be briefly summarized as below :

                          1. Collect
                          2. Process
                          3. Plan
                          4. Do

"Doesn't seem like that is a tough thing to do," Anjali was peeping into my little notebook.
"Actually all the collection happens in this notebook, everything that I know from A to Z for the past week, month, year is collected in this book."
"Seems to me that the assimilation is the harder part ?"
"It is, because knowledge comes to us from all sides and as we start to move forward from the front too and pretty rapidly too."
"I barely manage to write my notes in Outlook at work,"she said meekly, I knew it was feigned as she wanted me to continue talking.
"Smarty pants, don't tell me you don't plan, you do a fabulous job of it."
"I manage," she said with a wink.
"Peace On Earth, Peace Of Mind."

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Oranges In Spain - III

The train took us through mustard fields, that was the predominant yellow that I saw outside, there was talk in the coach and it was abuzz with conversation when I woke up.  Anjali was reading her magazine and drinking a cup of tea that she had asked the attendant to get, I saw my cup lying there too and took it up from her table.  The thought predominant in my head while I had been sleeping, and there are times when we sleep with thoughts in our head and then the other times there is a nothingness.  This time there had been thoughts all pleasant ones, I was thinking of Geetika, my friend who had done her Spanish Language Course, language translation came easy to her, she had the skills and the aptitude to do a good job.

I had met Geetika when I had travelled with her on WWF organized journey, during those days I was associated with them as an affiliate member and had gone on a trip to save the Bengal Tiger.  We had cameras and lens ready to click species of all kind, Geetika had been sitting quietly in the corner when I spotted her during the trip and I had approached her with a bottle of water, she had gracefully accepted it and from our conversation from that I time I realised that she was an avid animal lover too.  The Bengal Tiger Project was on her mind and she had spoken avidly about it, the mangroves of Sunderban where the project had taken us were shared between India and Bangladesh.  The Tiger Species as she had explained to me, was one of the top species in the chain but the Sunderbans were under threat from rising Sea Levels that had a brought about a climate change.  She had explained that the total population of Tigers in this vicinity was only 2500 and the creation of a Poaching reserves on the Indian side had helped stabilise the population by protecting the tigers from poachers.

"I was thinking of Geetika," I said to Anjali while we sipped tea.
"That's nice," she replied back handing me some biscuits as the train rocked on the rails.
She was eager to talk, my sleeping had given her enough time to read and think and there was always music that she enjoyed.
"This tea is good, there is something about good tea that is rare when produced in mass."
"Isn't it ? and then there is always the thought that the flask aren't clean enough or you didn't pay the attendant enough," she replied back.
"What about Geetika ?"
"Well, when I had first met her was a WWF photographer and writer, she was pretty as can be, dark skinned and with a attitude to match it.  Once on a trip to the Sunderbans, she told me that the only way to save the Tigers was to be like them.  Her thoughts had been radical those days and she had reminded of a She Wolf."
"We had been sitting on a bench at a tea shop in Sunderbans, both of us tired of the human race, getting used to living in the wild, she was rampant with her thoughts."
"How so ?" she asked curiously.

Geetika was a creature made to be admired, everything she did, she did with this thought of self possession and upholding the truest values of man kind.  She had this thing about her that said "I am what I am," she was a virtuous human being and held on to her values no matter what the consequence.  "So what were values," she had asked me once, were they thoughts put into our head by the supreme cosmos, and interesting thought this was because human beings align themselves with their true nature.  "Whatever we do," she had told me, "at the end of it all, the search is to align ourselves with the Universal Laws of the Cosmos."

The Cosmos was about taking care of the planet we live on, the creatures that we co-habitat with, once these universal laws were reached the search was over.  This was a classical and romantic thought rolled into one, "Look at the gang of people with us in Sunderbans, it is the romance, the search that has got us into this place together."

I had suddenly realised that it wasn't as if we were tired of the world we lived it, we were running from the machines that ruled our lives, the coffee machine, the refrigerator, the Aircon and etall, to connect with nature was our supreme thought, the romance of living in the wild where the primitive man had lived in all his literary glory.

"Staying with Geetika had taught me that there was nothing romantic about the primitive man," I said to Anjali, she had turned in her seat away from the window and was fully facing me, deep in thought herself.
"I think she was a Romantic."
 "So was I in those days," I said relieved that I had told her this, it was a load off my chest, thoughts blazing in my head while I was sleeping had to find an outlet and she was always there.
"Tea was good, any luck with getting another Samosa from the attendant."
"Here he comes."
"Maybe I will ask him for a pastry ?"
"Do you think he would say yes, I don't think they have pastries in the pantry."
"We should ask for a bottle of lemonade, that would be safe."
"Your dreaming child," I said jestingly.
"Yeah and you are Batman himself.  Save me from the Lemonade monster."

Food was due to be served in another two hours, till then the conversation would be rampant, I had no doubt, when we got together it was always that way, it was just that what with her job and all, there was so little time these days to have a tete-a-tete, a real heart to heart was what we both wanted and when we did get the time for it, it brought the memories flooding.
"If You Try And Don't Succeed, Then Cheat."

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Oranges In Spain - II

Next week was another journey, there was a trip planned for Moga, another small town in Punjab.  I got up early on the appointed day, though I was already packed and ready to go, made a cup of tea for myself in the wee hours of the morning, they would serve breakfast in the train, and drove down in the cab to Anjali's place.  The hours were ticking and I knew that she would be ready too, she was fastidious about time and schedules.  We sat down at her house and started with our checklist, this included things to do, the important as well as the urgent.  It was a small world after all, Param had invited us to his friends place in Moga, said they were scheduling a house warming ceremony and we would be his guests.

Normally a house warming ceremony is a religious ceremony followed by a quiet lunch, I was eager on getting there in time for both of them, science was my religion however it paid dividends to see the ceremonious grandeur of a religion.  Religion in itself to me is a stream of philosophy that expects things from a person in the name of the guardian of religion.  It, like all creations of man kind is systematic, in the true sense of the word, if the logic behind the system is rotting then the system would too.  I was curious as to what would be the outcome of the ceremony, most religious systems have an outline as to what they expect as the final outcome.  If the outcome is reached then the ceremony is deemed to be successful, else you perform another similar ceremony.

Time is the greatest healer, I have realised that and though everyone is running short of it, it is sciences way of telling us that it is no beautician.  When we finally got into the cab, Anjali was all dressed up and ready to move, she had applied mascara, a little bit of lipstick, though she didn't like too much of makeup, and was wearing her earrings.

"I want to get my nose pierced, do you think that is a good idea, " she said as the driver put the cab in the gear.
"I have never tried it," I said equally sure that there was nothing more exciting than fresh in the morning.
"It should look good on me."
I breathed in some fresh air, and it cleared up my hair enough to start listening to her, I always listened to her, no matter what the state of my mind.
"I think it would too, piercing is an art, and it becomes very few people.  Its an artists dream of what the world would be if we carried our ornaments with us at all time."
"I think the primitive man had it all made up, there were flowers to breath, fresh air to live in and good food to eat," she said curiously about what I meant, in short she was prodding me into explaining what I had just said.
That was the thing about Anjali and me, we were so comfortable with each other, that reason never came into our relationship, we just assumed that we would get all our answers through one another and that's how things did come to pass eventually.

"The primitive man and the shape of the world as we see through rose tinted glasses is an artists dream, we forget that there was disease, wars and famine to deal with.  Society had no structure during those days, wars were fought simply to please the whims and fancy of the royalty.  I don't see the morality in those times."
"What about present times?" she said agreeing.

We had reached the railway station and all this talk of wars was getting me into a state of mind that I had been before and didn't like it so much.  I enjoyed Anjali's company and wanted to talk about her, so I bought her favourite chocolate from the vendor on the platform, that generally got her in a mood.  Anjali was fantastic with relations, if I told her of something that happened with me at work, she would immediately be able to get to the root cause of the clash or contradiction if there was one.

"Did you get my magazine?"she said as she munched on the chocolate.
"I did, there is the Femina, Cine Star, and got myself a designer manual too."
"I don't like travelling too much, but for you anything," she said back in the mood for some magic.
"Thank you."
"Didn't Priyanka Chopra start dating someone else," she said referring to the famous Indian Film Star.
"Yeah believe so."
We moved into the coach and took our seats while the porter loaded the luggage onto the overhead storage space.
"Sir Rs 100," he said in toned down Hindi.

I handed him the currency amount he asked for, and settled down with Anjali who was all ready for the trip with her earphones and Ipod plugged in.
"Isn't she seeing Shahid?" I asked her, prodding her now.
"Cool dude that one."
"I believe all relations are meant for a certain purpose."
She flipped through one of the magazines, "Relationships are symbiotic, Param for instance, gets as much sustenance from you as he gets from his workshop."
"You think so," I asked unsurely.
"Of course, that's why he talks to you, he believes in you and your philosophy of life."

I liked that fact that she was answering me in this instantaneous, free spirited that she was, when her replies were from heart, one just knew.
"Listen to this," she said as she handed me the earphones and I hooked them on my head.
"That's Rashmi Bansal isn't it ?"
"Thats correct."
"Phenomenal what they do with books nowadays," I was enthralled by "Connecting the Dots" and wanted to listen more, but handed over the earphones to her.

The train had started to move, this journey that we had started some two years back was finally beginning like it was moving forward.  My days of lateral thinking and knowledge gathering was over, I was finally getting knowledge through the frontal plane.  The crowds of the city faded into the distance, and the mustard fields started appearing, this was country and we would get down at Ludhiana.  Anjali was still listening to the Audio Book when I fell asleep, I knew she would knock over ideas with me soon as I woke up and she had heard enough of the book to talk about it.  This was going to be another fabulous journey.
"Time's the Greatest Healer, But a Poor Beautician."

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Oranges In Spain

Anjali was screaming at me, she had seen me smoking a cigarette too many and she didn't like it, not that she was a teetotaller but what with me smoking so much, I understood that she was concerned for my health.  Smoking got my mind going and I had to decide on an alternative to it now, if she didn't like it then I would give it up.

"You have to control this craving you have now, there will be times when it will hit you that it spoils your health," she said with a grouch on her face.
I grimaced.
"Look at yourself right now, a male in the peak of his health, why do you want to spoil that outlook."
I feigned an apology.
"Did you have a good day at work ?" I asked
I waited with bated breath and then she replied back, "It was not so good today, there was too much of work and everyone was too busy."
"That's terrible," I sighed with relief, happy to get the conversation going again.

Then suddenly the storm settled in and I was happy to have her back in the conversation.  Cigarettes and morals do they have a co-relation I wondered and obviously they did.  Morals are the code that we live by day in and day out, the unwritten golden rule book that is embedded in our head.  Upbringing and exposure to the outside world shape our values.  Anjali had always told me, morals are mistakenly associated with some kind of rigidness and uprightness.

As the case may be, the connotation that word brings up has nothing to do with the true value of the word itself, the snickering in the corridors notwithstanding, it is important to live by a moral code, to have values that you can adhere to.
"Did you buy yourself a pack again ?" she asked softly now.
"Just three cigarettes to last me the day," I said wondering how to give up this habit.
"Quit the habit and you are going to be new man.  Cigarettes are great if you wish to smoke up with a friend, but as an addiction they are not nice.  Quality in life is about being able to use stuff in a controlled manner."

We were seated in the living room of her house, it was really pretty with interiors done by her and a friend of hers, the paintings on the walls were resplendent in their glory.
"Too much of anything is not good," I said to no one in particular but myself, I think.  She heard me nonetheless,
"I work 12 hours a day nowadays and find myself adrift, had it not been for our conversation at the end of the day I wouldn't be able to qualify an analysis."
"Quality is in the head I think, every thought that you think needs to be tagged by excellence.  Friend of mine doing a Spanish Language Course, Geetika, used to think that translation was the way to go, she got into a translation course, excelled and did her internship in Spain, got back and got into a great job as a translator."

I finished off petting Romeo who was seated on my feet, got up and got myself an orange, I loved oranges, maybe I would replace my addiction for cigarettes with Oranges.
"So you were saying .....," she wanted me to continue.

"Spanish is a good language to do, hard work though and then suddenly she saw that if she managed to get enough people hooked on to her command of the language, there would be clients who would want to get two plus two equals five variety, her friends encouraged, I remember Prerna who told her that she had contacts in the diplomatic enclave that would get Geetika running while she was still doing her internship."
Anjali brushed her long hair and was thoughtful, "You don't think she could have managed to live without Prerna's Diplomatic contacts during her internship."

Its finally about training our minds into believing that what we want from life is available to us within our sphere of values, the longer we stick to our values the more people we influence into believing that the code that we live by is correct.  The philosophy is not only tenable it also works.  I decided that the first thing I would do the next morning is to list out a code or values that I wanted to imbibe in my life.  If that meant spending two hours every morning imbibing and inculcating these values then I would spend that time working on this.

"What is Geetika doing these days ?" Anjali asked.
"Another hardworker like you, she is travelling this week."
"Does she travel often ?"
"Not much but enough to keep her busy."

"When Life Gives You a Lemon, You Have Lemonade."

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The Pyramid Of Planning

The pyramid of planning is about being able to deconstruct everything that is not required during the day.  For instance, there may be activities during the day that are inevitably lost in the daily humdrum of life and these activities may not be required for further perusal.  These need to be deconstructed and by that I mean that they need to be built from grounds up again.  

Anjali had been facing a lot of flak at work, she loved her job but with every available ounce of her energy going into the work itself, she was unavailable to think through the complete process, so to say that the big picture was missing.

"The day was awful, boss is turning hostile, there are people who are shouting at each other and I hardly get time to think at work," she said in a sad tone.  "There is one particular guy in the office who keeps up with this charade of extensive work while he actually does nothing."

"Have you spoken to somebody about it ?"

"Who do I talk to, they all seem distant and far away," she said with melancholy.

"This may be the time to sit back everyday in the morning and think about the overall scheme of things in the office."

"I seem to be doing things at work that have no particular significance to my day."

"Why don't you deconstruct," I said knowing that she would probably not understand immediately.

I had driven a bike during my college days, it was an old machine with a feel of a friend, I had been driving it for over 4 years and still thought nothing of replacing it. It broke down on the old highway to Lucknow one day and I sat there waiting for it to cool down, it was evidently overheating.  The idea being that the key word here was "evidently", there was no logic to this, but the cylinder was hot and the exhaust was too.  I waited for it to cool down so that I could at least touch it to work on it.

The thought that it was hot was predominant on my mind and so according to this logic that staying in my mind I had to wait for it to cool down. While waiting under the tree I could see a few butterflies that flew through over flowers, they were buzzing through without a sound, there was logic here too, it looked peaceful and very serene apart from me with my bike waiting for it to cool down.  It was a typical case of a conflict, one that arose from mother natures peaceful environment and man's creation having broken down in midst of it.

When conflicts arise in our vicinity, our first thought is to fight them, the peaceful environment disturbed my state of mind which was in state of conflict, so I took out my notebook and started writing notes in them, overheating can occur due to the following things :

1. Spark Plug

2. Engine Cylinder

3. Clogged Air Filter

If this was the case then each of these items would have to be evaluated and the activity that was not required needed to be broken down into its smaller part.  I carefully opened the spark plug, the butterflies had strangely vanished now to be replaced by chirping birds and it seemed that nature was moving things to a rhythm.

The spark plug gap was mismatched, the cylinder though the head had not been opened yet seemed intact. I let the cylinder stay where it was, would look at it when I got to a workshop, and took out the slider that matched the spark plug gaps and set the gap to the exact measurement.  It required a little bit of effort, however it was plain to see where the problem lay, the spark plug is a device that generates the spark to ignite the fuel mixture which is a combination of air and fuel, this mixture is pumped into the engine cylinder using the jets and then the spark plug ignite the mixture at the right time, this is the combustion cycle and though the spark plug is a small part it is a very critical part, the timing is important.

Anjali returned with a smile on her face, "Good Day, travelled to a couple of sites and then returned later to office everything working as planned."

"So what was unusual about the day and how did it work out ?" I asked curious as to how she had deconstructed the unwanted activities.

"I spoke to the boss when I was writing my schedule for the day, she told exactly what her deadlines were and that sorted the contradictions.  I had few activities that seemed large for the day but then on getting the big picture they seemed unimportant."

"Contradictions are a big part of our lives and it makes sense to honour them."

"I will get back to these unwanted tasks later in the month, but today they weren't required and everybody agreed." she said happily.

I had understood what she was saying, we went back to the interdependence part and she had carried the concept back to her professional life.

"The only thing that works is what sells."

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Memoirs of a Red Rose

The occasional hiccup notwithstanding, things were beginning to look up, I had taken the car in the morning for a drive, the streets were empty and stark, it was cold but no fog and I stopped by at a 24x7 for a bite and a cup of coffee.  My mind had been running while I had been driving the car, thoughts were clear though and one particular item that joggled my memory was about mental independence.  As I was served coffee, I started to mix the sugar with it, the bright lights outside the cafe caught my attention, one particular street lamp on the street was glowing bright and there were light moths crowding around its facade.  What did the moth see in the lamp, did it see brightness in the endless darkness of the night and so crowded around it till the break of dawn.

I saw the street lamp was synonymous with a giant woman, she had a head that glowed bright and the moths wanted to get into the lamp, "open the lamp cover," they called out, for we seek the nectar of light that the lamp emanates and the lamp had it not been for the cover over the bulb would have been sucked into the vortex of desire.  

"Your breakfast sir," she said as she served me, the name tag on her shirt said Angel, and I immediately decided that she was one.

"Could I get some salt and pepper, they seem to be missing here."
"Yeah sure, you are up early ?"

"Couldn't sleep," I said taking her cue and striking a conversation.

"I do night duties around here and never get to sleep during the night any hows."

"But the job keeps me busy," she said smiling.

"Your personal life must be havoc, what with the night job, do you have a boyfriend," I asked her directly.

"Yeah, Shivir does night duty too, so its fine."

"Things around here in the night get lonely, so I work up the coffee machine and clean up the counters, I also try my hand at some mental arithmetic.  There is pleasure in numbers, I count and recount the money, do the accounts and that keeps me from falling asleep," Angel said with the same smile on her face, she was busy while she arranged my breakfast for me.

The thing about mental independence is that we all seek refuge from the thoughts that fly to our head and these are probably a result of exposure to the world, exposure that with it brings new thoughts and changes to our behaviour.  People who are mentally independent see the world with their own eyes and do not seek to challenge the authority of others who are on a different path.  Angel kept busy with numbers because that is the way she could maintain her balance during the idle time at work, a simple calculation would pep up her mind and she could relate the numbers in her memory to the times in college that she had simple calculations.  Memories of her friends came back to her and she would be transported into a different world.

More important than independence is a term called by many as interdependence, people depend on each other for tasks and activities in professional life and in personal life we depend on each other for emotional well being.  Interdependence has much deeper meaning and is often mistaken by people as being weak and open to outside influences, but it is this very fact that brings rejuvenation to the mind, food for soul is found is found in our love for others and our ability to build relationships during tough times.

"Was the breakfast good sir," Angel had a schedule to keep and she was back to clean the table.

"It was fantastic, this is the best breakfast I have had in days," I replied back.

"What about those flowers, do you get them fresh everyday," I was curious.

"They get delivered here."

"They look absolutely fresh and in the Sun they can look real nice, I have a thing for flowers, I like growing them and talking to them.  They bring out the best in life, I really like that Chrysanthemums you have got there," I said still talking.

"I like flowers in my hair, Shivir likes it too," she said coyly. People are a little hesitant about talking about their personal life to strangers and she opened up now.

"You planning to get married," I asked her.

"I hope to," she said.

"These days when I think of relationships I think about them as flowers, with pretty petals to look at and thorns to cut.  The most deadliest of all relations are the hard thorned rose, they have a combination of pleasure and pain."

She had started to listen raptly and I knew I would come to this place more often.

Never Give Up Hope and Keep Working Hard.

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Roses On Steroids

There were a million thoughts flying in my head this week and I had to get them organized to make something of this week, and I had to succeed this week.  Organization is a very critical aspect of planning, everybody plans, some plan because it fills up their week, others because it gives their mind the satisfaction that it craves and then there are these who plan because they must to survive.  Occasionally the enormity of the task in hand takes precedence over its importance.  Differentiation between the urgent and the important is the key, important tasks make or define us, urgent tasks are always on ones head as something that occurs because the importance was ignored in the first case.

"Is there something that is important enough for somebody to give it your time, determine that first," Param was adamant on this one.
"How do we determine whether something is important or not ?" I vaguely understood what he was saying, but wanted him to be more explicit in his thoughts.
He pointed to the wrench lying on the shop floor, "That is a tool I use for tightening nuts, it comes in many makes and to get the job done I have to get the right combination of the nut head and the correct size."
"But that is true for any task, checking the correctness has nothing to do with it, if I was to use a spanner I would still have to get the correct size," I countered.
"The right tool for the right task is important, urgency is what the machine owner has in his mind, to get the job over with as soon as possible and get the machine on the road," he said trying to explain his thoughts and getting a clear understanding of what I was saying.

In all my life or at least in my past life, and that happened to be some 3 years back, I had been a dedicated soul as direct as possible and truly motivated towards my work, success when it came elated me.  I realize that now, to maintain a balance in life it is important to have your thoughts structured for the morning, I have started to divide my thoughts as Big Rocks for the day, week, month and the year.

Anjali had been busy with her job leaving me time to do a lot of thinking, I was organizing my life around her and we both liked it that way, it gave us a connect to each others life.  I didn't like the thought that I was spending less time with her but then organizing ones life around one another was going to pay dividends.

"Did you get time to pick up my mail," she asked.
"I did and its lying on the table."
"Do you realize we had planned that trekking trip and never made it there."
"Its got colder, hasn't it ?"
"Still could go," she said eyeing that pretty rose plant on the balcony, "it needs some trimming, you haven't got around to picking up those garden tools have you."
"I got the shearer and trimmer in that cupboard behind you."
"Do you think next week is a good idea to go for the trip ?"
"Would you be able to get a leave ?" I asked, I  knew her job was keeping her extremely busy and taking time out would be a task for her.  Time is always short, no matter who you are and what you do, there is an old saying that says, "Whether its the Cheetah, the Tiger or the Deer, no matter who you are, come morning they must all run."
She laughed out loud, "Where did you pick up that from, Webster ?"
"The Zoo noticeboard."

If we were going to go on the trip together, it would require kits to be organized, bookings and a car, I would want to rent one rather than going in my own.  I owned a sleeping bag that I had bought a long time ago, but a general checklist would be required and things would be needed to be bought, a schedule organized.  I had my writing that would have to be put on the back burner for 3 days so I decided to get a piece of paper and made a check list :

Travel documents (passport; extra passport photos; itineraries, etc.)
_Money: Convertible currency in cash 
_Credit/Debit cards.
_Day pack to carry your personal needs during the day
_First aid kit.
_Medication/prescriptions – ask your doctor about your specific needs.
_Prescription glasses and contact lens solution if required
_Small Alarm clock
_Torch/flashlight/headlamp
_Insect repellent
_Refillable water bottle and water purification tablets
_Sunscreen, hat and sunglasses
_Layerable, flexible clothes that are easy to wash and dry. Don’t overpack.
_Lightweight travel towel
_Ear plugs eye mask
_Comfortable walking shoes
_Camera, film and/or memory cards with spare batteries
_Raincoat/umbrella
_Waterproof jacket
_Extra warm clothing during winter
_Personal hygiene products.
_2 season sleeping bag 
_Socks
_Slide on shoes or sport shoes for wearing in teahouse or camp. 
_Waterproof, thigh-length jacket. 

and this was more comprehensive than what we wanted, now the idea was to brainstorm and get the checklist down to what was important, as it turned out, we could avoid things like "Slide on Shoe" and "Passport" since we were going to be travelling within the country.  I wasn't sure what I was going to be doing with "Layerable Flexible Clothing" but I had written it down nonetheless.

The important was obviously what would fetch results during the whole trip and the checklist was a start, Anjali was still fiddling with the shearer, she was trying to get it to work and finally it clicked open, she delicately cut the thorns from the plant and then trimmed it down a little further, "The leaves further down are pretty but the foliage would prevent more rose flowers from coming up."

"Where did you get this plant from ?"
"From the nursery down the road."
"They are pretty."
"As pretty as the bee that just flew by your nose."
"Yeah you have got some pretty creatures around here, didn't I spot the butterfly around here like right now."

Now it was my turn to laugh, the prettiest butterfly was right in front of me.
"Give a man fish and he will eat the day, teach him how to fish and he will eat for a lifetime."

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Mechanics of Intimacy

Ever wonder what it means to be a highly skilled technician, it means constant devotion to your job, it means to have an intuitiveness and the logic, and a constant endeavour to thwart Mother Nature's design on corrupting manly creations.  To let Nature takes its course is the but obvious scheme that man can have, and when things are going fine there is no will to change it and rightly so, there should obviously be no change in the scheme of nature unless there is an anomaly in the design.  Take for instance the microbial virus and bacteria that cause disease and death, if it is Nature's will to destroy then we must thwart its purpose there and then.

A skilled technician though technically sound and logical, and dedicated to his job has the lost the feel for love and that's the point I was trying to make to Param that last evening.  Owning a machine is less of a pride if you don't fall in love with it, and over prolonged periods of time there have been owners who would rather maintain their machine than give them away in exchange for new ones.  An old machine has this feel of "YOU" to it, there is comfort and elegance and it is a depiction of personality of the fond owner, less a case of deprivations, the owner to the contrary will run that machine every day even if its clocked over a 100,000 miles.  

Anjali had woken up by the time I reached her place, she had already had breakfast, "where do you want to go today, it is a weekend and I was thinking of going for a movie."

"That would be fine with me," I said without thinking, I would go anywhere she wanted to go, it gave me great pleasure enjoying her company was foremost in my mind.

"Which should we watch ?"

"Anything," I said.

The eagerness was already evident on her face and she started to make all the right moves, walked into the dressing room to check herself out, I meanwhile started playing with Romeo, this one was happy to see us back and was prancing around with glee, dogs have this way of soothing the nerves and I was happy that I had gifted her this puppy.  Romeo was 8 months old now and full grown, he enjoyed the early morning walks and that gave me intense pleasure to see him running around after the pigeons in the park.  The only thought that crossed my mind was that I should do this to more of my friends, gift them puppies that allowed them to see for themselves the love that the animals showered on you, maybe I would do that with Param soon, he had turned out to be such a great friend by showing me a side of life irrefutably his.

"You still love the sight of Romeo, don't you ?" she asked as we walked into the theatre.

"I love that dog."

"He means much more to you than a mere animal," she queued up at the counter for tickets.

"Actually a buddy."

"He waits for you every morning and he missed you during that trip." she took out the money from her purse and paid for the tickets.

"Ain't I allowed to pay for them ?"

"I got it covered, you just keep Romeo and me happy," evidently she was loving this talk.

"Still thinking of Param ?" she prodded me.

"Obviously his philosophy is on my mind.  He didn't say much but his actions showed the kind of life he had been living."

"He is in love with his machines, I think the thought of losing them or not being able to fix them gives him a headache."
"I think so too."

"He sees his God in them," Anjali said matter of factly.

"Isn't his workshop cluttered, I mean how does he find his tools of the trade in that workshop.  I barely could walk a few steps without running into something scattered on the floor," she said.

"Yes, that is correct."

"There is something about the man that says that he has God with him, his work happens because he is so well motivated and so focussed on the job, runs a very clean shop."

"A very God fearing man."

Two hours at the theatre and it was a very interesting movie, a mixture of heady romance filled with action packed sequences.  We sat in the theatre looking transfixed at the movie screen and eating popcorn gleefully and sipping on ice filled coke glasses.  There was pleasure in company and the movie was inconsequential, it was the feeling of having witnessed something together that gave us that intimacy.  Relationships thrive on intimacy, friends crave for it and lovers look forward to it, and people gel together.

"Relations are what make the world go around."

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The Rose And The Myna

There were these roses growing in my balcony, for a long while I had thought of them as just flowers, but this morning on my return from Nabha, I re-looked at them and saw that the small buds had grown to an especially large bloom.  I bent down to smell it and there was a sweet smell typical of a rose that emanated from the bloom.  It was finally turning cold, the Sun was out and the crowd beneath the balcony in the market was buzzing with activity.  There was a piece of me that wanted to have a cup of coffee, but then I refrained from it, I was after all going to Anjali's house later and that's when I would do my cooking.

Anjali had been tired of her journey and had told me that she would sleep immediately, she could continue to sleep till late, she tired easily and needed her beauty sleep.  The journey back had been uneventful, the rush of meeting Param had been calmed by the constant rattling of the wheels under the train as they commuted on the track.  A cab had been waiting for us at the station and we had driven back home like before. Param had been a revelation, both in his attitude and his zest for life, I had rethought my philosophy while with him and constant interaction with him for three days had left me feeling fresh and a tad thoughtful.  Come to think of it Param had been doing the same work for over a decade, he hardly had time to think about life but work had dominated his mind, so he saw his God in his work.  While he worked on his machines, his total attention was devoted to it, there was a sought of nothingness that came from hard work, my mind revelled at this thought, was it nothingness after all that I sought ?

The bell rang at the door, the maid was in already, it was turning 8am, she would be cooking breakfast and lunch for me, nothing got me going than cooking but she was always a great help, after all what better thought than having flour already kneaded ready to be cooked for pancakes.  I walked down from balcony and opened the door for her, my thoughts on still Param,
"Good morning," she popped out, with a smile on her face.
"Hmmm," I mumbled under my breath and as she walked in, I shut the door behind her.
Soon enough the kitchen fire was burning and contrary to my advice she handed me a hot cup of tea while the breakfast was being made.
"Isn't that a cake in the refrigerator ?" she asked me.
"Yeah I think so," I replied not thinking.
"Why didn't you eat it in the morning when you got up."
"I got in late last night,wasn't too hungry."
"Have it now," she said with motherly concern on her face.
I picked up a slice and started munching on it, there had only been typical Punjabi food with Param and his wife, when he had made me a drink the last evening, he had taken me to the garden and told me that today he was a happy man, what with a new workshop and lots of work under his belt.
"Do you want another cup of tea," she asked inquiringly, she had sensed that I was distracted and maybe thinking of something else.
"Yes, I could do with some more."
Immediately another cup was brewing on the burner, this time I could smell the fresh Darjeeling tea and could almost feel the gears in my mind beginning to move, the romantic in me forever wanted to live in a dream world, Param's strong sense of mechanics had revealed another world to me, one where nothing existed but the creation of man.  His level headedness had inspired me, I saw a form in the coffee machine that lay on the table top of the kitchen, there was filler, a beautiful body, some buttons and a cable that attached the plug to the socket.  But beneath this form was a function that had been created by man too, a function that was dictated by business logic, the function that each of these equipments performed was formed by their eventual users and their utility.  The more perfect this logic the better it became for the end user and more money the function fetched.

What Param was doing was a small scale version of what large scale factories would do, build machines that had better utility and maintain them for years.  The idea as Param would say, "Perform tasks that fetch the maximum benefit."
"Nothing fetches more benefit than simple pleasures in life," I had countered, standing firm on my logic of life.
"But then why do you dream of writing this book ?"
"Because it gives me pleasure," I had replied with a smile on my face.
"And also if it sells, you would make money, probably enough for you to write another and that would fetch you more money.  Pleasure and money go hand in hand," he sounded to his own logic.

Breakfast was ready, and the maid was quickly assembling it on the dining table, I walked from the kitchen to the table, there was a newspaper lying to the corner, she had picked it up from the door and kept it on the table, the headlines were the usual, politics and more politics, I quickly turned to the sports page and read through the cricketing and footballing stories.  There was a test match going on somewhere and somewhere else Real Madrid would be playing Barcelona in the afternoon, there was also an editorial on match fixing that caught my eye and started to read it. Five minutes into it and I heard her chiding me to have breakfast that brought me out of my reverie.
"Breakfast is getting cold."
"You bet it is but I am not going to let it grow any colder," saying this, I dug into the scrambled egg and cheese with bacon that was there.  With a few munches in my stomach I was already feeling fine, it was going to be a great day.  Like Param would say, " First things First, a happy stomach ordains a Happy mind."

This feeling of bliss perpetuated my mind as I drove down to Anjali's house, thoughts of Param and his friendship made me a happy man, there was a reason for which I had met him, and that reason was evident enough now, there is duality in nature as well as in science and evidence of it had been found in my trip to Nabha.
"A Rose By Any Name Is Still A Rose."

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The Rye In The Whisky

Dinner with Shiromani and Param at their residence was fantastic, they were the best of hosts and large hearted folks, never was there a dull moment in the conversation, it was almost as if they liked us and had done that for ages.  Shiromani was a school teacher and her conversational tone was one of as if she was speaking to young school going kids.  I liked her instantly, she had started calling me a brother soon after we had entered her home.  The house was a regular medium sized bungalow that had a womans touch to show for with pride.  There was not a dull moment soon as we entered, there was coke to be served along with punjabi snacks called fried pakoras followed by a sweet called Rasmalai.  Param was constantly rushing to the kitchen bringing out stuff she had made while Shiromani served it with a chefs pride.

"Did they manage to book a plot ?" asked Shiromani, looking at me but speaking to Param.

"They did look interested and they have till tomorrow morning to decide."

"It's a fabulous road to buy land on and build a house, either one of you could do that."

"Give them time Shiromani, they still have to decide," Param lovingly chided her.

"These plots are going away like hot cakes, pretty soon there will be none left to decide on," she was equally adamant.

"Friend of mine, her husband bought a plot on the Circular last week and already the prices have climbed by a quarter."

"Outsiders need to evaluate their options carefully before buying a land here, after all we are a small town.  We are where we are and right now, that's us folks, they on the other hand come from large towns and used to fast paced life," and Param got up to get some more Coke.

It was a cold and dry night, I would have preferred to have some Whisky but knew that travel and wine didn't do me justice, Param was already on his second Patiala Peg.  The Patiala Peg is the largest of measures that gets served in India, it is 75 ml of whisky and a meagre 10ml of water, Param was a large hearted man with an enormous appetite and a great sense of humour that begun to flow once he had liquor in him.

"Shiromani makes some pakoras that could make a man drop dead," he said with a mischevious smile on his face.

"Yes," said Shiromani after a thought, she was used to her husband pulling her leg and always considered his comments for a moment before answering back, and this time she decided to refrain from commenting.

That didn't stop Param of course, "Last she made it for me this Sunday, I slept non stop for 4 hours that too without having even a drop of whisky."

"Hell, I am thirsty again," he dropped in a line with a smile again, carefully avoiding the pakoras.

I got up to make him another drink, we had this old joke from years ago, its cheaper to drink whisky than water, as I made him another peg, and carried it over to the table, he was in great mood as a matter of fact he was always in a great mood with friends.  Long ago when we had got together and wanted to get the bike repaired, he had suggested the following things to me, never ride a bike without the basic neccessity kit which included the medical aid kit, a puncture repair kit and the tools for repair, when he had suggested that to me I had realised that I had never realised that certain tools would be required to carry out repair and in other circumstances I wouldn't even have thought of a puncture repair kit.  As it turned out, when the road is lonely you need the tools of the trade with you.

There were a lot of trophies on the mantle and I was wondering where he had won those trophies, some of the trophies came with price money and as he told me, he had used the price money to purchase the shop from where he was operating now.  These are the signs of hard work and every trophy had a nameplate attached to it, I asked him about the largish trophy which glittered in the overhead light, he said that one was the best and he had won it during a mechanic competition that his previous boss had recommended he attend.  Without that recommendation there was no way that anything could have been achieved within this short span of time.
"Why Be The King, When You Can Be The God."

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The Science Of Love

Param met us outside the hotel and we sat in his car to head to the Gurudwara, the asphalt road was broken in some patches but mostly it was smooth sailing.  Anjali was carrying some books and magazines she had purchased at the store and these were mostly the traditionally popular ones, there wasn't a bookshop on Circular Road but she was happy with her purchases.  We arrived at the Gurudwara which was a classic construct, large wide entrance, doors to all four sides with the holy book placed in the middle which was being read by a blue turbaned gentleman.  On top flew a saffron flag that flew on most of the temples, we sat in the main hall for almost 1/2 hour and let peace distill our minds.

"It is extremely peaceful," Anjali remarked with a cherubic smile on her face. "It must be the forest behind this place, nature has this way of calming nerves," I countered.
She smiled at my retort, as we got up to have the holy Prasad and Amrit, we walked away from the place in a much peaceful state of mind than we had entered.

Peace is directly proportional to how much we are able to resolve the controversies in our world, or more precisely in our minds.  The human mind seeks religion to resolve the contradictions, and it has been said by none other sharper mind than Einstein,

                                       "Worshippers of Science take to it like a religion."

"In many parts of the worlds, people tend to find peace by remaining anonymous and continuing to do their work irrespective of the state of affairs.  The Cosmos is a composition of many laws that take us in many different directions, for instance when we come to the temple of God there is an expectancy to do certain things," I said to no one in particular.
"So what you are saying is that religion is an institution too," she asked inquisitively, while Param continued to mumble his prayers to the Wahe Guru under his breath.
"All institutions have a purpose that is solely meant to benefit them."
"Then why go to the temple ?" she was prodding me into answering now.

Lightening Flashes that we have so far discussed occur at various points in the continuum of life, these are possible solutions and will occur at different places while in conversation with different people and what more likely peaceful place than the temple where the mind is rested.  The mind is peaceful when it has reached a logical conclusion about the contradictions that it has encountered, to find the universal laws of the world is the first requirement of the Cosmos, and humans must in whatever way align themselves with these laws.  All the work that we do, the places that we visit, our thoughts and philosophies are all meant to reach a conclusion by aligning themselves with the Cosmos.

An unconnected mind wanders and so institutions find a place in our society - temples, governments, colleges, schools are all part of a system to connect us to the man created scientific pool.  To attack an institution is to attack the outcome of a system and not the root cause of why most people are not connected to the universal law.  It is man's wish to play God that makes him create his own knowledge pool where the Cosmos is totally disconnected and therefore an unpeaceful, dissatisfied society prevails.

Trip to the Gurudwara over, it was time for some Lunch at the local Dhaba and there were numerous ones, one particularly recommended by Param was located on Circular Road itself and we walked in.  The Punjabi speciality is Daal Makhani and Khasta Roti, which translates to a fascinating meal.  We ordered some Kadhai Paneer with it and sat down to talk.  The place was crowded with customers walking in and out, the general chat was in Punjabi and multitude color turbans ruled the roost.

"Shiromani sends you her regards," Param said.
"And she would be waiting for in the night with dinner."
"Looking forward to it, she cooks well I know that, the Dhaba food wouldn't compare to anything that she makes, look at those food bearers, they seem to be rushing around," I said pointing to men carrying trays loaded with food.
"She loves cooking and the secret to her cooking is in her spices."
"Punjabi Masala to go with Tandoori chicken, hmmm ?" Anjali popped in, she loved her cooking and this conversation always got her going.

"The Thing About Friends is That They Always Love You No Matter Who You Are."

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A Small Town Fairy Tale

After breakfast, we decided to take a walk down the local market place on the Circular Road, it was a wide road with shops littered around, I spotted a Punjab and Sind Bank and we quickly walked down to the ATM, Punjab and Sind bank is one of the largest banks in Punjab and requires no introduction to the local residents, this branch was also fairly big with an ATM located at the corner.  We walked in to see a camera on the top, Nabha, as I had mentioned before is a fairly modern town for its size, I withdrew some money.  As we walked out, Anjali spotted a large grocery shop, I followed her as she wanted to buy some Chocolates and Chips, they were her favourite and she picked them up with glee.

"I like this town, its noticeably small and yet seems like a fabulous place to stay, this road itself, did you see the size of some of the plots, they are so large," she said pointing to the west side.
I shaded my eyes with my hand and looked where she was pointing to, "They do seem pretty big actually, we should walk down to a Realtor to check the prices out."

"I could buy land here, build a house and settle down."
"This is the country, Anjali, investment ofcourse right ?"
"Towns like these are offbeat, there is more life in the offbeat than than fast paced life of the city, people here," she said pointing to the groceries owner, "he is so content, he wouldn't want to go out of the town even if they gave him a million bucks."
"That's a thought, after all Param has lived all his life here and never looked at the large townships of Ludhiana or Jallandhar."
"He said something yesterday that had my mind pacing, God resides within us and each of our creations."
"I noticed he didn't say in HIS creations, it was our creations he was referring to, wasn't he ?" she was as curious as me.

There was a tiller working on his harvester in the distance, these giant machines, they gave the sense of stability and comfort to the ordinary onlooker, they were built solid and were the creations of the mind, an idea, a concept that germinated in the mind.  Every part of it had been carefully thought about and crafted until it stood the test of time to do the job that it was supposed to.  The job of a harvester was to accomplish harvesting and it would do that time after time, year after year without a hint of dissatisfaction.  It knew what it was made for and knew its job well, it required a human to operate and that was the only help it needed, for all you know, to the human the machine that he operated was just a black box, a tool to achieve a mean to an end and never open to evaluate what it constituted.

Param had this intuitiveness to understand machines, faced with a problematic machine, he would look at from the artists perspective,
"If I open up a part, will it spoil the countenance and the image that the designer held for it."
Then he would closely look at the problem and find the right tools that lay scattered all across his workshop, grabbing one that fitted his mental image of the requirement and while still talking to the client begin to open up the machine, the cylinder-piston that he had worked upon years ago for me, still remained fresh in my mind till date as the most accomplished piece of work I had ever witnessed.

My bike had been misfiring and he had closely removed the pistons first and then slowly opened the cylinder, seen whether the piston needed to be replaced with an oversized one or just refurbished, and then once the measurement was over, had begun to work on fitting the new piston on to the machine, the cost of the cylinder is prohibitive and probably replacing the piston suited me just fine, but not once had he asked me whether I was okay with what he was doing.  That is what had impressed me, the work had not once dented my pocket and yet I had the perfect solution to my problem.

We all work at different jobs, sometimes not accomplishing what we set out, the point being that adequate planning is required to carry out jobs when one is an amateur or an apprentice then as one sets into the rhythm of things, over years, planning comes naturally, sometimes the work that overwhelms us needs to be handled first before it all gets too much.

"I lost you or what," Anjali asked, I seemed to be in a trance with my thoughts.
"Just thinking, the plot is a good idea."
"Lets walk in and check out a sample plot."
"Sounds good to me."
"Did you like the tea that you got at breakfast."
"The chef had made it just right.  I like Darjeeling tea, what variety was that ?"
"A Darjeeling classic it was, and the aroma was just perfect, I think it's the blend that is so perfect, they make the make the most perfect tea in Darjeeling, I was there once and the sprawling tea plantations on hill sides are awe inspiring."
"I just like the flavour, don't know if I will ever get to see a plantation."
"Why not ? We must plan our next trip there," I said, sounding surprised.
"Don't you a have a friend there who works for the government, the census department, you told me or something, what was her name ?" I continued.
"Debanjani, right I haven't met her in a long while."
"Just like I hadn't met Param for years."

As we continued talking, I was thinking,
"Overwhelmed Is a Phrase I Use For The Unplanned."

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Sunrises On The Empire

I woke up to a new day, it was bright with a hint of mist, coffee would be great I thought to myself and almost started smelling the aroma before I had even ordered it from room service.  I drew the curtains across and let the sunshine seep in, the curtains had these binds across their middle so when you tied the binds they looked triangular with curves.  I sat there waiting for Anjali to wake up, thought maybe I should call and wake her up to see the grandeur of a morning in Punjab but then desisted, she wanted to sleep so I allowed her to, the newspaper was tied to the door, so I opened the door to read it, "nothing in it," my mind told me and I continued to stare out of the window, the breeze was mild and the tree leaves moved in the breeze.  It was pleasant, and I was in a more pleasant state of mind than I had been in a long long time, nature had this way of settling the mind into a rhythm, it quietly woke you up and then gave you sights to wonder at.

I had always wondered at the Sun rise, thought it was the best time of the day and without knowing had continued to get up early morning, my body clock now attuned to the morning.  I quickly looked at the watch, it was 7am,  that gave me enough time to sit quietly and gaze out of the window, read the newspaper and then make up my wake up call to Anjali at 8am.  I always had carried this notebook with me, no matter what place or purpose of travel, I would deftly take down notes and make plans for the day.  My planning technique was a little different from the conventional one of writing down a time based daily planner.  People were often enamoured with filling up their day with tasks to do rather than accomplishing things during the day.

Institutions and Factories functioned that way, they would give employees tasks to do and time frame to achieve it within, so we ended up with a society that moved like tick tock but was purposeless.  People did 9-5 jobs and their employers want them to be at work no matter whether there is work or not.  Robots I called them and I think correctly so if they were satisfied with their routine.  This culture breeds dissatisfaction and the planning aspect of it needs to be re looked.

I quickly checked the places of interest at Nabha and jotted them down in my notebook with the agencies supervising the site's phone number.  With the sites neatly identified, I sat down to look at the marvel that was the laptop and the internet.  Amazing what the internet has achieved for lesser beings like me, it has brought to the fore public relations and put the commission agent out of the job.  Technology was not one of my favourite things to learn, however with the advent of it, I had picked up tit bits from my friends and colleagues to make a decent living of the money I spent on the laptop.

I looked at the time it was almost 8am and quickly made that call to Anjali, she woke up after a few rings, she sounded hazy which was the first sign of somebody who had slept well, I promised to have her breakfast ready in the dining room in 1 hour during which time she would get ready.  I also had to check Param's schedule, he too was an early riser but must have been busy otherwise he would have called me by now.  I jotted down in my notebook that I would call him in 1/2 hour while I ordered breakfast in the dining room.

The newspaper which I could have seriously used as toilet paper now was lying in a bundle near the coffee making machine, I tore an obituary item from it and looked at it, it said 10am and gave directions to the cemetery.  Most people would wonder what good it was to have obituary items listed in the newspaper, for me it served a purpose, it reinforced in me the belief that I was alive and that there was life to follow death.  If we were to visit the Gurudwara today, The Samadha Wala Gurudwara, then it would be with the thought of peace for the departed soul of a stranger.  The obituary read it was for a

                                      "Vaishali Chawla who departed for her
                                               heavenly abode yesterday
                                                     God Bless Her"

Strange as it may seem, there was nothingness in this world once the stories of yore had ended, I was in the dining room and quickly made that phone call to Param and told him what our plan was.  Busy as he was, he quickly fell in with where he would fit into it, the Gurudwara trip was very much on and he said the afternoon would make a good time to visit it and then the local market place to savour some of the food items, I was a foodie after all and as I looked at the breakfast menu, scrambled egg and bread with cheese sounded very appetising just as Anjali walked into the dining hall.

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The Feather In The Crown

Anjali was quiet and peaceful when she returned from the office nowadays, something had clicked in Ludhiana and that in itself was a lot to say, going to a strange place was never easy, but I think she had handled it well. Top that with having made a new friend in Shweta, I wasn't surprised at her wanting to do more trips like this, journeys had always set me thinking and more often than not the philosophical thought process would rub on to my fellow travellers.  I had already fixed a deadline for the next trip, a small town to the South of Punjab, Nabha, and the following weekend we took the train to head to the princely town of Maharaja Hira Singh. There was history to the town and and though it was small, with a population of 50,000 odd residents, the town is a thriving with activity.

When we reached Nabha, it was cold afternoon though the Sun was out and it was dusty, in general the state of the roads was a little on the broken side and it had been a bumpy ride to reach Nabha from Ambala.  The SaravPriya Hotel, Nabha is one of the budget hotels, Paramjit Singh, my friend and guide met us at the hotel, he had already booked two rooms for us.  

The biggish Punjabi Sardar gave me a large hug and patted me heartily on my back, "How have you been veerey."

"Lords mercy is on us."

"Wahe guru is always with us," he said jovially as he said a quick hello to Anjali, who had suddenly turned pensive, strange places initially always got her into that mood.

"Its pretty," she said staring at the lawn which centred rooms around it, there a few tables and chairs with umbrellas basking lonely in the sunlight. "I figure all the guests would be busy with their sightseeing, I don't see many around."

"You will in the morning," replied back with his usual large smile.

I had met Paramjit during my college days travelling on the bike to Patiala, he was a large hearted guy, and loved to drink and would worked hard at his motorcycle workshop near Patiala Gate.  He guided us to the rooms where our welcome drink awaited us, Anjali took to the flowers really well, they were a nice bunch of Orchids purple in color.

"These are so pretty."

"I had them ordered especially for you both," said Paramjit, "normally they put roses, but I was told that you liked Orchids."

Instinctly Anjali gave him a peck on the cheek, "Thank You."

Paramjit blushed, he was not used to public affection from woman, this was a small town and after all he was a mechanic, so what if a highly skilled and special one.

Most mechanics don't know what they are getting into when they open up a machine, they tinker over with the spanner, get the electronics in, open up the machine and then decide what to do and normally what they do is totally contrary to what the customer would want..  Machines are like relationships, not totally and the angle is not immediately evident, but what forms a machine is multitude of inter related parts and what is that if not relationships.  If people fit well into each others lives then what we get is a perfectly functioning machine that has a purpose.

Parmajit was a very intuitive mechanic, and when I met him during a college tour I had seen his workshop totally scattered with tools and machines.  To casual observer it might have looked like there was chaos all around, but Paramjit could find his way through the chaos, he would sit next to an open vehicle and without seeing what was happening pick up the right tool for the job.  He had during those days achieved the job of fixing the looseness in the cylinder-piston fit in 2 hours without even me knowing that the job was being done.

"How is the garage doing ?"

"The government has given me permission to acquire more land."

"Paramjit, my Dad once told me that he trusted mechanics more than Doctors," Anjali said.

"He He He, I don't know."

"Paramjit's wife cooks very well, how is she veerey ?" I asked, I had met Shiromani once, she was a strong willed woman who would never let Paramjit rest on his laurels.

"She is doing well, she cooked some Biryani and send it for you, I have it in my car."

"Will make piece meal out of it during dinner." All three of us laughed, the conversation was moving.

Paramjit lounged himself onto to large couch in the room and poured himself a drink of water, he had an Ipod attached to his waist and Anjali opened up her suitcase and took out some Bluetooth speakers.  She paired the Ipod with the Bluetooth speakers, and the sound of some blissful Jagjit Singh Gazals filtered the room.

I looked around, overlooking the balcony was a market place, and the main road, called the Circular Road on which the hotel was located led to a Gurudwara that I could see in the distance.

"That's the Samadha Wala Gurudwara, its located in the Beed Forest, and is a great place to visit, we will visit it tomorrow."

"Sounds like an interesting place to go to." Anjali smiled.

"Do they have animals in that forest."

"I think they do," said Paramjit.

"Not lions though, just some deers, buffulos, some Neel gaen and the likes.

"Where else can we go tomorrow ?" Anjali asked curiously.

"Well there is the Glaxo factory we can visit, I have visit planned, its popularly known as the "Horlicks" factory."
"I would love that, as also to meet your wife Param," Anjali replied back.

"Yes, then tomorrow we go to my house for dinner, Shiromani is a good cook," Paramjit replied back, I could see on his face that he had liked the idea of Anjali wanting to meet his wife.

I wondered at Params upbringing, a God fearing man, he was the perfect example of a morally upright person, religion played a huge part in his life, whether it be work or personal relations.  I had no right to ask him but I did ask a question that had been troubling me for a while, 

"Do you see Wahe Guru in your work ?"

"I often do and that as the case may be are two different Gods, the one that handles my work for me is so meticulous, there is wonder in almost every part of the machine that I fix, there is a method and logic to every part in which He resides, like he takes care of my machines for me, forewarns me when Mother Nature is out to seek revenge from the metal parts and provides me with logic to solve even the most difficult problems that SHE throws at me.

I stared at Param, my heart skipping a beat and my eyes wide open, this was the most profound logic I had heard in years, and the journey of my last two years seemed to be reaching a more forward looking thought. Nabha was going to be a fantastic outing, I could sense and that made me happy.

"All Fears and Phobias are So Revealed So That We Can Move Through"

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