Moving

Moving has it's own up-side. Although sorting out all the junk you tend to collect is painful and time-consuming, the sorting that you do sometimes brings up some unexpected treasures - things, or memories of things you have forgotten.

So I have discovered a few treasures while clearing the tables and racks last few days - bills, trekking maps, pre-historic to-do lists(some items still pending), train routes, recipes, carefully planned menu of some lunch or dinner, pictures, test papers, assignments(I never submitted), and many other little things.

What this blog is about is a few lines I found scribbled in an old notebook I used to practice Kanji's in. That was long back ofcourse, when I had just joined language school. I am amazed at all the practice I did...

Anyway, here are those beautiful lines...

There was a land of Cavaliers and Cotton Fields
called the Old South...
Here in this pretty world Gallantry took it's
last bow...
Here was the last ever to be seen of Knights and
their Ladies Fair, of Master and of Slave...
Look for it only in books, for it is no more than
a dream remembered.
A Civilization gone with the wind...

And for a while I was transported into that pretty old world of Knights and Fair Ladies...what a movie!! A true classic.

Moving, I suppose, is also an interesting experience. :)

Civic Society

How do you define a civic society? If what happened in the train couple of days back is civic, I really don't know if I want to identify with this kind of civil behaviour.

We were two stations away from home. It was one of those last trains on Friday night. I heard someone fall in a distance. I thought someone fainted because of congestion. I wasn't feeling too well myself. So I tried to see what it was and it looked like someone had really lost balance. Then one tall guy in a business suit took a couple of quick steps towards the fallen guy and before I could realise what's happening, punched him once, twice, thrice till this fellow fell to the ground. And then I saw him kick this guy not once, twice, thrice but many times over. He was saying something in Japanese I didn't understand. Through small gaps I tried to figure out what was happening, and all I could see was a pool of blood on the floor. It was quite sick really. From what I understood - the guy who was beaten up tried to make a pass at the tall guys girlfriend. So the tall guy beat him up.

What shocked me was, all this happened in a packed train. All the impeccably dressed men and women in formal suits where this was happening didn't seem to react. Let alone try to stop it. When the kicking became severe, they looked a little uncomfortable standing there. The train stopped at the next station. Somebody had pressed the emergency button. A few people got off quickly. The tall guy and his girlfriend and the guy who was beaten up also got off. A couple of women seemed a little upset. There was some commotion at the station. Some two or three station officers came running in. The train was stopped for about a minute more than usual. An announcement apologised for the inconvenience caused by the delay to all passengers. The train moved on.

The Japanese are known to be courteous and kind, unobtrusive and non interfering, but to such a degree that they let one man beat another man to pulp in a train in front of their eyes, and still be so polite as to not react or interfere? If this is how civic advanced societies are - is advancement such a nice thing after all?

Raindrops are falling on my head...

There's a car in it's shed I come across as I take a turn on my way to the station. And it is such a cute sight I can't tell you...It's like Pluto sticking its nose out its kennel, sniffing the air. Does it smell like rain today? And I start humming my own improvisation of the Raindrops song...

Raindrops keep falling on my head
And just like the guy whose car is too big for it's shed,
Nothing seems to fit
The raindrops are falling on my head, they keep falling
.
.
.
Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining
Because I'm free
Nothing's worrying me
tara rara ra rarara, tara rara ra rara rara....

My Earliest Memory

My earliest memory goes back to the time when I was two. I remember that day well, the day my brother was born. 1978. I was told that we will have a new baby for me to play with. And I was conned into believing that babies are simply picked up from the hospital. So on November 30th when the time was right, I was told that we are going to the hospital to pick up a baby. It must have been a cold November evening in the small town of Sagar. My grandfather was posted there at that time. I remember it was raining. And I remember running around all the cribs in the hospital, taking a peep at all the new borns, to choose the cutest of them all. I don't remember if I was able to decide on one, or what happened later...All I remember is running around cribs in a large hall.

My brother ofcourse is one up on me, he remembers the time he was born! He remembers how everybody was smiling down at him adoringly and saying, oh what a cute baby. ;)

Aisa Bhi Hota Hai!

Read an article on Swamp Deer or Barasingha today. Populations of Swamp Deer are increasing in the US to such a degree that they have become a menace to farmers in certain parts. Private American clubs are offering hunting rights to people, for a fee ofcourse, to keep the animal population in check. Under US law, a royalty, or certain percentage of the fee charged for hunting should go to the animals country of origin. Swamp Deer is the state animal of Madhya Pradesh, therefore, with over 1000 Swamp Deer legally hunted in US each year, Madhya Pradesh state government stands to gain as much as Rupees 2.25...CRORES!!! Which is fantastic if you ask me, if put to use for conservation purposes in the state. Imagine how good a compensation package it would create for relocation of villagers settled inside reserves!

I don't know what would happen with the money, but it is interesting to see how the Swamp Deer, an endangered species fighting for survival in its last remaining natural habitat, Kanha National Park, is thriving in a different land.

The Last Ride

We rode along Tamagawa last Saturday. It was a beautiful ride. The weather was perfect, pleasant and cloudy. There were people by the river - walking their dogs, running, father & son pairs playing ball, kids with their mothers, friends on a lazy stroll, couples walking hand in hand, people stretched out in the grass enjoying a lazy nap, baseball players practicing catch, running around the field, large groups eating and drinking and enjoying a good barbecue. The spirit was infectious with just so many people outdoors. It was a merry ride along the river, not without a little adventure. We had to make our way back to the main road when the narrow path we were riding for a while dwindled into thick bush and a rut. Anyway. In the suburbs, two little boys on bikes, don't know what their trip in life was, started racing with us. We were together for a long while and then said our bye-byes when they took a turn home.

It was a long ride, 15 kms along the river. Preetam especially, had a 'diathlon' of sorts, 15 kms on bike after running 11 kms in the morning. We reached our destination and met the guy we were selling our bikes to. Bikes gone, we took the train back home. I have always loved riding my bike, it has always given me a feeling that I have wings. The last ride was the longest and the most beautiful.

Picture of Preetam and our bikes as we last saw them. :)

A Hope for a Nuclear Weapons Free World

We were in Nagasaki last month. A noisy city, with narrow streets full of activity, and trams to add to the commotion. It is located in a narrow valley, with mountains on three sides. We reached there late in the night. The night view was amazing - lights in the valley and high up in the mountains. Reminded me of the lights of Shimla as seen from Chail. We decided to do a walking tour of the city the next day(most places of interest were walking distance of each other), but by the time we reached the first place, it started raining. Bad news, if you had planned a walking tour! Anyway. We purchased two cheap umbrella's from a convenience store and crossed a busy street.
"So where is the A-bomb museum?", I asked Preetam.
"We are going to the Hypocentre first."
"Hypocentre?"
"Place where the bomb was dropped. It's right here", he pointed to the left.
"What??"
I almost stopped. The bomb was dropped HERE...It was unbelievable. The bomb that killed 150,000 people, in an instant flash of heat and radiation(and an equal number later...slowly, painfully, over the years)...was dropped H-E-R-E!! As I walked slowly towards the Hypocentre - the exact point over which the bomb exploded - April 09, 1945, 11:02 AM - there was an overwhelming feeling of sadness. I had tears in my eyes. I tried to hold them back, but like the falling rain, they came down anyway. It was a somber scene. The only thing I wanted to say was...I am sorry. I am sorry this happened.

There were not many tourists there at that hour. I saw an old man praying in front of the stone memorial. He was there for a long time, in the rain. After a while, he wiped his eyes and walked away graciously. It was a very touching sight. I don't know who he was, where he came from or whether he or his family suffered directly from the bomb...but to me, he was a symbol of that generation of Japan, which had accepted the price they had to pay for their country's war-time aggression(whether the price was justified, I don't know...), started from scratch and worked hard to build the nation that we see today. A prosperous and a peaceful Japan.


Hypocentre - as seen today. The bomb exploded 500 meters above this point. The fierce blast wind, heat rays reaching several thousand degrees and deadly radiation generated by the explosion, instantly reduced a once thriving city to ruins.

We spent a long time just sitting there. It was very peaceful in that little park. It's been designated as a prayer zone. From there we went to the Atomic-Bomb Museum. It is an excellent museum and a must-go for all who want to know all about the chilling horror of the Atomic Bomb and the nuclear arms race that followed. We planned to be there for a couple of hours only but ended up spending the whole day. And there were still many sections we hadn't seen.

It was said, at the time of the explosion, that there would be no vegetation or sign of life in that area for the next 75 years. So completely the earth and everything on it was charred, distorted, annihilated.

As we sat in the little green park near the Hypocentre, I could hear birds chirping. I could see trees and the green grass, fresh and bright in the rain. I saw two little girls come in and walk away together. I was filled with hope as I left that place. Hope for a peaceful world. A Nuclear Weapons free world.

Chief Seattle's Letter

A Chief's letter in response to White man's proposal to buy his land. There are many different versions of it, and whether it was really written by the Chief himself is debatable. Whoever the writer, it is a beautiful message. A must read for all. You can find it here.

Visitors on my Terrace

As always, I was searching for an excuse to delay doing pranayaam by some more time. I thought I should eat something, something light, so I fished out a cup of strawberry yogurt. I then thought I should read the headlines first, so I lingered over the headlines for some time. Then I thought I should check my email again, so I was just going to do that when I heard something that caught my attention. It was the chirping of birds outside. Are they on the terrace, I wondered. I went to the door and through the net I saw some four or five sparrows on the terrace, darting from here to there, chirping loudly. All of a sudden they flew away. I stepped outside. It was sun set time. I could see rooftops and balconies till far away. In between the rooftops there were clumps of trees, and it was in these trees at this time that there was the greatest noise and commotion. Flocks of twittering birds flying from one green spot to the other, quickly alighting in balconies and flying off the next instant.

I have spent many evenings on the terrace, with a book, or tea, or phone or just by myself to watch the sun set, and on a clear day, to catch a glimpse of Mt Fuji. But today, I think the birds were particularly noisy and active, there definitely was something they were all excited about. Their twittering and chirping and quick undulating flights from one balcony to the other tree and all the noisy commotion was music to my ears. As I came back in with a lighter step, I was smiling and I remembered these lines from The Daffodils...'And then my heart with pleasure fills, And dances with the daffodils.'