Why I don't travel behind a Maruti Van?

I don’t have one but 10 reasons for not traveling at the back of Maruti Vans:

1. Because I am not a CNG cylinder
2. Because I am not from the 1950’s
3. Because I am taller than 3 feet and have self esteem
4. Because I rather have a portable weed garden at the back of my Maruti Van
5. Because I do not prefer a numb posterior
6. Because I prefer sitting in a car and not climbing/hiking it
7. Because I don’t plan to use a time machine, go back in the 70’s and get chloroformed in a bollywood movie
8. Because I am not a picnic basket
9. Because I am 18+ and have a driving permit
10. Because I usually keep the back of my cars vacant for dead bodies, incase someone pisses me off on the way

staticchange: Peaceful Absurd

staticchange: Peaceful Absurd: Sisyphus, the absurd hero with his ravenous ardor for life and acceptance of his fate has often enamored my own nothingness. Aware of his ...

Peaceful Absurd

Sisyphus, the absurd hero with his ravenous ardor for life and acceptance of his fate has often enamored my own nothingness. Aware of his providence and armed with his audacity he lived his absurdity with pride,if I must say. The gods had chastised him against his impish acts to roll a stone up to the top of mountain which inevitably will fall down again off its own weight. This was his eternal punishment which was aimed to rebuke the futility and nothingness of his existence.

He did deeds that no mortal would dare to execute, but would be surely tickled with the thrills of doing the barred. He chained death and fooled him out of its wits, while we are often jolted with the sudden stop at the end and easily relinquish to it’s preeminence over our being. He questioned the sanctity of his wife’s adoration while we are timorous to question anything, out of our own insecurities, and constantly live for maintaining the status quo.

Talking about absurdity what strikes me the most is the feeling of zilch that it comes with. Though it’s definitely futile and would often yield discontentment, but the experience of living the nothingness with absolute no hope often makes my mind wander. Today, I feel I’m doing a lot of work which keeps me busy throughout the day but the futility and uselessness of them pervades in the background. If we look carefully there is hopelessness in each hope, and we often are stuck in the scenario of hope against hope. If we realize the futility of our actions and accept them as a mere response to survival and a rationale to an eventful existence, I guess ground work for peace will be laid.

I don’t know for what reason I think a sentient absurd can be a tranquil person. Absurdity and peace can be made to sit in two ends of a continuum. Sisyphus was a tragic protagonist, since everyone saw the uselessness of his actions, his toil and labor to mount a heavy rock up only to see it come down and his continued tryst with it. I dart my imagination and wonder what the incorrigible Sisyphus on his way down the mountain following his rock would say to me? After giving it some thought, I can actually envisage the spectacle. Sweat adorning his forehead, slouched shoulders paining with all the physical labor along with frustration of seeing his efforts in vain. The moment he sees the inquisitive and vague mortal in me the weariness and discontentment evaporates in thin air and a profound glee appears on his face. “How the hell do you live with this monotony that clinches your existence?” I would ask to which I can hear an impish reply, “I live with the certainty, when I mount the rock up I know that it would come down….’’

I am forced to realize that Camus was right when he said that Sisyphus was tragic because he was conscious of his fate. All of us in our pursuits keep ourselves busy with variety of activities without realizing that the consequences are uncertain. We constantly live in hope and get crushed once it’s crushed. When I say that the feelings of absurdity, irrationality pervades our quest I wish to highlight how one moment life is a fact, an enthralling journey, and in the next it’s a cloak of nothingness or death.

The idea is not to cultivate an idea of living a life of hopelessness, but it is to accept the nothingness, the absurdity and the irrationality that is the essence of everything and stop professing that we are bound by rationality. The day I would welcome my fate, my absurdity, consequences will stop bothering me and I would be peaceful.

Camus said, ’’ One must imagine Sisyphus happy”, and I do.

My Irish Interlude

'Well you all know that Irish people can drink, but now according to a research we are also world's best lovers!', that's our tour guide, who talked incessantly for i don't know how many hours and mind you along with driving the bus which took 50 odd people in it. This was my life's first tour experience, i have never taken a tour before this while travelling. And there was a reason why I took this one – no money! 

I am sure most of you would find it strange, but when you are a 28 year old student in London (with no monthly salary) you hunt like crazy on the internet and sometimes the virtual gods bless you with the right deal at the right time. And that's our story of finding Paddy's Palace, Belfast. Bunk- beded, mixed dorms- aka small, tiny, dingy, occasionally claustrophobic and CHEAP. We started this trip on a high of finding something as cheap as that – 6.5 pounds /per night (close to 550 INR), and if we come on weekdays and stay for atleast two days we get a free tour to the Causeways, Rope Bridge, Derry, Bushmills. Well they thought they had enough caveats to cover them, but for broke students who have just finished exams weekdays is not a problem, so off we went in the middle of the week!

Another interesting deal was the decision to take the bus, though if one has the ability to plan and is blessed with the wonderful gift of foresight, you could afford a flight too. But we are lazy, spontaneous and fun people so we decide last minute and its at these moments of sheer adventure that the road is the only friend we can usually afford. But this time it was a little different, owing to our moronic, frankensteinian state of mind (please remember we are graduate exam survivors) we didn't realize we are going to an island. Assuming its a 15 hour long bus ride, we equipped ourselves with lots of food shopping at Pound Land and some now famous in London, aloo sandwiches by yours truly. After sleeping through the night and early morning, the bus suddenly stopped and the bus driver yelled – Get up and we now hop on the ferry! I literally thought it was a part of a dream and that how can one get to ferry the Atlantic and ride a bus, both at freaking 28 pounds. Gradually my grey cells charged up to remind me – idiot how else do you plan to get to a fucking island???

So in complete haze we get off the bus and enter the waiting lounge of our beautiful Stena Ship. In that moment of sheer lavishness and luxury we empathized with our dear Jack and me and Jonita in our hearts decided to tell the world – Stena was a ship of dreams! And it still is, because we didnt meet an iceberg on our way, thank god for that. It was the same feeling which one economy passenger gets on suddenly being upgraded to business class. We were business class and we decided to behave like one. While looking for some coffee we gathered that they offer bottomless (aka you can refill it as many times as you like) cup for 2.5 quid,  and we decided not to be cheap and buy two of those, rather than one (though the thought did cross our minds, but we resisted)

This was followed by a photo shoot at the dock and inside the ship. On arriving we realized that we had booked the tickets only till the docks which were still 15 miles away from the Belfast city, while we were just brooding over our stupidity and feeling clinically depressed over spending another 2 quid for getting to the city, the nice old Irish bus driver winked and said- why dont you get on the bus aye! This was my first ever free bus ride in this continent – and i loved it! 

Paddy's Palace

On our arrival at the Europa Bus Terminal, we decided to look for Paddy's Palace and park our stuff, like seasoned backpackers (its nice to refer oneself like that) we grabbed the map and started looking for the place, a few failed attempts and we found it in a while. We entered it with extreme low expectations and were not surprised much, it was just as bad as we thought it would be. We were given a 6 bed mixed dorm, where i was sure that if all six people came to the room at the same time and would stand, we will end up touching each other rather uncomfortably. That's precisely the reason that during the two days, each one of us would just walk in only to get into the bed and sleep.

So day one of the exploration involved a stupid bus tour of the city (again something that i regret spending money on!). But there is always a silver lining, i heard the best joke ever on the tour. So Belfast city hospital is a rather odd looking building, and i was wondering the reason why it was even a part of the tour. The reason was fairly simple, it had a great story behind it ! So when we crossed the building our republican tour guide announced on his microphone, “on your right is the Belfast city hospital, which was inaugurated by Prince Charles, and he did the mistake of calling it the ugliest building that he has ever seen, the locals have now nicknamed it Camilla!”- I think this was worth the 8 pounds i spent on this tour!

Post the tour, we decided to be a little low key as we were fairly tired after a 15 hours of journey and some 3-4 hours of extensive walking, so we picked up cheap and meaty burgers and fries and decided to head back and be the early to bed and early to rise kinds. Back in paddy's no one was back in our dorm, so after a nice hot shower we decided to call it a night. Now yours truly has a problem with the linen, i can never sleep in new linen (even if its 5 star quality) it itches the hell out of me! So i was wide awake and decided to wait and see who all were our room partners. It was amazing on how everyone would tip toe inside, slide into something comfortable and just get into the bed, no conversations, no eye contact except for the Polish boy who was insistent that Jonita eats an apple that he was eating and he stank like no body's business. After some time, suddenly i found myself in the middle of a multicultural snoring environment, there were polish, Nigerian and German snores... i am sure in a while i gave some Indian classical touch to the symphony as well.


Morning was early and we got ready to get on to the Paddy's wagon to take us around (for FREE!!!)

Our first spot was Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge. Now this is a rickety rope bridge near the Ballintoy in Antrim county, Northern Ireland. The bridge links the mainland to the tiny island of Carrickarede. It is believed that the bridge was built by fishermen to help them catch salmon and get it to mainland with ease. The bridge is approximately 98ft above the rocks. The area around is very scenic and one can see Scotland as well from there. There are caves underneath which at one point of time served as places of shelter for boat builders during stormy weather. It was beautiful, and very windy, and scary to walk that bridge with that wind... with a smile on my face posing for the camera and reciting hanuman chalisa in my heart i crossed it and got a great picture too! 

Caves, Carrick-a-Rede Bridge

Carrick-a-Rede Bridge 

Next on our agenda was Giants Causeways, which is a natural creation of a disaster. Its an area filled with basalt columns as a result of an ancient volcanic eruption. It was declared a world heritage site by UNESCO in 1986 and is also called the fourth greatest natural wonder in the United Kingdom. Legend has it that the Irish warrior Finn McCool built the causeway to walk to Scotland to fight his Scottish counterpart Bennandonner. One version of the legend tells that Fionn fell asleep before he got to Scotland. When he did not arrive, the much larger Benandonner crossed the bridge looking for him. To protect Fionn, his wife Oonagh laid a blanket over him so he could pretend that he was actually their baby son. In a variation, Fionn fled after seeing Benandonner's great bulk, and asked his wife to disguise him as the baby. In both versions, when Benandonner saw the size of the 'infant', he assumed the alleged father, Fionn, must be gigantic indeed. Therefore, Benandonner fled home in terror, ripping up the Causeway in case he was followed by Fionn. I thought the stones/ columns were an excellent spot for a fashion shoot, when they could make someone as average as me look great , the rest i leave for your imagination. It was a sight that was so breathtaking and i loved how our guide Troy described the way to us, he said, “keep walking and climbing the stones and well then as soon as they vanish start swimming!

Giants Causeways

We then had much to my dismay a very hurried visit to Derry, the walled city. The story goes that the people in Derry wanted to build a wall which would separate the British from the Irish, the British agreed to do so and give them the money for it, only if they change their name to Londonderry- well the Brits were clever, history is the witness to it. I wonder what happened now? Well this was the time when i had completely started hating the idea of a timed tour, he only gave us 50 minutes to cover the historical walled city- Jonita reminded me beggars can't be choosers and we picked up the maps and ran! The entire city is built around these walls, and the walls form the walkways for people to move around in the inner part of the city. I really wished that i had atleast a day more to see the Derry city.

Derry Walls

Crown Bar

It was time for us to get back to Belfast and indulge ourselves in some serious pub crawling. I would say you have not seen Ireland until you have visited atleast 3-4 pubs. We started with the legendary Crown Bar, which is an excellent exmple of a Victorian liquor saloon. Its exquisite in it's interiors with some complex mosaic tiles. The bar has private booths with bells to alert the staff, characteristic of the austere Victorian period. After all this description it's anyone's guess that the bar was really expensive so we smiled sheepishly took some pictures and ran out and went next door to the cheaper Robinson Saloon. With some drinks down and tapping to some rather average Irish music, we noticed the sheer craziness, that is the Irish. Whisky drinking, swearing, occassionaly foot tapping they are a crazy lot for sure.

Ireland is not just about hail and hearty, there is a lot that they have suffered and gone through. While walking down the streets, neighborhood, a camera in your hand will help you to capture a lot of struggle and political sensibilities that are characteristic to the Irish. While walking the famous Great Victoria Street, one could find a fine luxury hotel, Europa, with a bloody and disastrous history. The hotel is famous for all the wrong reasons, it was the most bombed hotel in the world, bombed to close to 30 times during the troubles. The more recent trouble came in the monetary front, when the biggest bank robbery in the UK and Irish history was successfully carried out at The Northern Bank in 2004. The robbery was of close to 26.5 million pounds sterling, and the investigation is still on and the case remains unsolved. The Irish Republican Army (IRA) was blamed for it by the government but it could not be proved.

Walking in the neighborhoods could also be very enlightening. I learnt that in Ireland one needs to be extremely particular about the neighborhood they buy their houses. One needs to be first sure of their political stance i.e. whether they are a loyalist or a republican and then get a house in the locality which matches their political sensibilities. Both the neighborhoods are extremely vocal about their ideology and they are mostly visible and communicated through mural arts that are all over the Belfast city.

Loyalists Neighborhood, Sandy Row

Republican Murals, Shankal Road

Republican Murals 

Republican Murals 

It wont be an exaggeration to say that if the walls of this city were to speak they would tell the visitors stories of uncertainty, blood, voilence, turmoil. Educating the world with the Irish history and culture along with political propaganda, these murals are a must for anyone who visits Ireland. Keep at least a day to walk around and explore these neighborhoods. They could also seen as Irish symbols that would often appear in newspapers, news, magazines, reminding the people and tourists of what Ireland stands for.

With the mural magic, our trip came to an end with ferrying back to our bus which got us back to London. An enriching and a must do trip – Do not miss Northern Ireland, if you are in the UK or visitng. While i sat in my regular C10 which got me from Victoria Coach Station to Borough, and i tried to replay the trip in my head, smiling to myself i encapsulated:


4 days, two bus rides, two ferry rides across the Atlantic, dingy backpacking, charity shopping, ale drinking, meat eating, walk in the rains, 2 leprechauns, all in 137 GBP - unleashing the Irish. I guess i would do it again, in a heartbeat!

दिन के उजालों को ढूंडती,
शाम की हवाओं को चीरती,
आज मेरी रूह ज़रा कमज़ोर सी है!

कुछ पूछती, कुछ समझाती,
कुछ रेंगति, कुछ भागती,
आज मेरी रूह ज़रा कमजोर सी है!

निशब्ध है, मूक की तरह, 

चंचल भी है, नीर की तरह,
आज मेरी रूह ज़रा कमज़ोर सी है!

अनंत है आसमान के जैसी, 

शांत भी है रेगिस्तान के जैसी,
आज मेरी रूह ज़रा कमज़ोर सी है!

रात में गाते झींगुर के जैसी,
बिन ठिकाने उड़ती माटी के जैसी 

आज मेरी रूह ज़रा कमज़ोर सी है!
                                      

                                     - यामिनी जोशी

Another Year Uploaded!

Another year gone by, and what is left of it are not the memories in your heart, or those moments of hard work or absolute indolence written beautifully in your secret diary. But what really is left behind are the Facebook photographs capturing those moments, and the status updates echoing what was on your mind, at some point of time.

It's strange and convenient at the same time, the fact that we don't have our past spiritually with us, but its even better, its virtually with us. The moments of pure bliss, sheer anger, claustrophobic frustrations, existential angst, all are present somewhere in the infinite spaces of the world wide web. Today the internet memory is more easily accessible than the human memory, and the best part of it is that it could be selectively shared a.k.a the privacy settings. So when a space as public and as open as the web gives a selective sharing control to an individual, it's exhilarating for the human mind and heart.

It almost feels like the internet today is an analogy for the Freudian layers of consciousness i.e. the conscious, the pre-conscious and the unconscious. The conscious i.e. feelings, emotions, perceptions at a particular moment that are often shared, is equivalent to our virtual life without any privacy settings, open and accessible to all. In the conscious mask of our virtual life we really want everyone to know how we feel at the moment, want to share a big promotion, or our social etiquette of wishing season greetings to all or sharing the great overseas holiday updates and so on. The pre -conscious is more like the stored past, memories like the great vacation, great party, college days, anniversaries etc. that could be made conscious by one click on the album link. Then comes the devil of them all - the unconscious, the deep seated angst driven emotions, desires, feelings, and the internet definitely has some room for that too. Quietly in the dark with the right kind of proxy servers, and after appropriate and fake kinky names, one could purely indulge in the forbidden and the socially frowned upon activities.

I am a firm believer that internet and its content are designed in consonance to the layers and complexities of human psyche and that's what makes it man's current best friend, beating the canine population.