The Dream That I Must Interpret.........

A few days ago I had dozed off on the sofa in the living room, at about 5 in the morning.

I have a habit of sleeping at that hour so there was nothing uncommon about this.

Anyway, no one woke me up in the early morning, and everyone left for work or college, so I was all alone (except my grandfather, and he hardly communicates, so I'm not counting him here).

I woke up at 10:30 am, still on the sofa, with my sleep incomplete.

The sun shone brightly and it was getting hotter.

And yet there was something different.

As I twisted my body to jerk off the inertia and lethargy, I felt HAPPY.

Yes, I felt happy.

I felt as if a great weight had come off my shoulders during my sleep.

Wait, that is not the right way to describe it. 

I felt like I was young again.

Hey, I know I am only 24. Young again? I am supposed to be at the peak of youth!

But mentally at least, I am not. Physically, one could argue that I could be fit as I was about 4 years ago if I try, but mentally, no.

So, I felt happy. Looking at the blazing sunshine outside, looking around the room, I felt young again.

I suddenly realized how "old" I had grown in the last few years. Mentally. Physically. But mentally most crucially. Because mental aging is so much worse than losing control of your tummy size. 

When I say "few years", I mean about three years, may be lesser. Two and a bit.

But that morning I was feeling incredibly happy, and young. I was feeling 17 again. 17.

When I was 16, 17, I used to go on long walks in the late mornings. I used to love it. More like a stroll. More like enjoying the serenity of the morning at its peak. Serenity? Because everything seemed fresh and real, easy and non-interfering.

I was young then.

And that morning I was extremely happy. Happy in a sensitive way. Happy that my youth was still there. Happy that the morning was so welcoming. Happy that, I can still overcome. Happy that I was happy! 

Happy that I still have it in me.

The weight of unfulfilled potential, wasted opportunities, years gone by in absolute lethargy, seem to considerably lessen from my mind.

My mind was fresher, sharper than it had been in years.

I realized that my slump, my downfall as an individual, had been so much a product of my mind's awful condition, than anything else.

Yes, I admit that my mind was completely screwed up for the last few years. Something went terribly wrong at some point. It was as if someone had forced a cloak over my mind and held on to it, to avoid my mind from getting the fresh air it so desperately needed for growth and survival.

But now the cloak was gone. Briefly, I grieved at what I had lost. I looked at myself in the mirror. I looked at my out of shape body, thought about my knees that were often struggling to support its weight these days. I looked at my face and realized that this was not the face I had in 2007. 

I looked up a photo from 2007. Yes, I looked different. I had looked so happy and youthful in 2007. I had grown 4 years in time but looked as if I had grown 20.

You know, you can see it when a person's face loses its glow. I looked at me (at my eyes), and realized that the glint in them was missing. They looked sullen in a dead way. There was no longer the joy that was omnipresent even three years ago.

I looked like a man trying to live a life because he should. Not because he could. If you get the difference.

Ah, I waved that off. I put on fresh clothes, after washing up. I wore my shoes and stepped out for a walk.

And then I also realized how stiff my body had become. It was an ordeal to walk a kilometre, including the return journey.

I was also not helped by some silly bad luck. My left shoe tore. My right shoe was already in a bad condition but this was it.

Half-way I took a rickshaw home.

But I had still enjoyed the experience somewhat.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

In hindsight, I realize that (touch wood) I have lost some of the anxiety and distress that I was feeling after July. After leaving MBA, I had maintained a firm exterior, yet I was shocked inside. It was life-changing for me and I knew it. The shock of it was so immense that despair had taken over my life for the next three months.

Yes, I took the final decision on my MBA. I decided to leave. But now I realized that the most important reason I left was not the expense of two more years. Not the curriculum. Not the chaos. Not the atmosphere. Not uncertainty. Not the field.

The most important reason was that my mind was about to crack with the weight of the baggage I was carrying. The present becomes redundant, and then a burden, when it involves deep personal strife and trauma. Sometimes we do not realize our own trauma. 

I wanted a new lease of life. I wanted the difficulties of my mental being to vanish. I had chased the MBA dream for years and years. To get out of it was very tough and yet I knew that I had to quit it. Because the apple had turned bad before I could relish it. I just knew, deep inside, that I must leave.

Dragging it to a conclusion by living in it for two more years would have been devastating.

When an atmosphere becomes noxious, when a phase of life becomes toxic and masochistic, it has to be left behind as soon as possible. Otherwise it becomes a cancer that your being cannot escape.

And I did just that.

But for two months after returning home, the past continued to haunt me and the uncertainty of the future left me shocked, bewildered, and paranoid.

That morning seems to have changed all this. Touch wood.

What preceded the morning was a dream.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

I remember the dream because I chose to. Psychology says that happens. At least my sister tells me so. I decided to remember it because it seems valuable.

I had boarded a train from one of those well-built New Bombay stations. My destination was Mumbai CST. The train chugged on. It was nearly empty. I was feeling uneasy throughout the journey.

Finally I reached the destination. The scene changed. My short work was over and now I was heading back. I had to reach the same New Bombay station again. This time as the train started, I was feeling distinctly better. Something like you would feel if your mind has been healed, or is being healed, as the journey continues.

As the train passed stations, some celebrities got on. Noble celebrities, I must add. A woman deeply involved in a real crusade that's making news today. Some others, less known but probably noble in the dream. I tried to catch their attention, but couldn't. And yet I knew somehow, that they knew about my presence, and they liked it.

I fell asleep in my dream. When I woke the woman had alighted, and so had some others.

I reached my boarding station again, happier. Outside the morning shone innocently, happily. I woke up. The woman had probably signified the cleansing of the strife inside me. 

All the while I had been travelling with some faceless, vague, voiceless friend. He/she was there just because they had to apparently. That was their purpose.

The train. The stations. The people. The contrasting emotions. The conclusion.

Do you believe in dream interpretation? Apparently it's not all BS, it has some scientific basis. But I will leave you to find out what trains and stations signify, if you are interested. They themselves have several interpretations. I know which one was the one that worked on me though. :) 

I hope this lasts, too.

Pranav

P.S.: The Westlife song "Seasons in the Sun" almost accurately portrays my state of mind that morning. Those who are able to feel the emotion involved in it, will know how I felt.

Mumbai (Bombay).....

Hello Bombay.

I will be saying this once again in about 197 hours from now - just a little over 8 days.

Is it truly the land where my destiny lies? After 23 years in my city I ventured out to Ghaziabad, to IMT, for my MBA. I had made up my mind then - that this might be the last time I get to live in Mumbai. It could have been the last time Mumbai was my home. An MBA today from a good B-school can get you a job anywhere in India and then you have to adjust to a new city.

And yet, now it seems that my destiny lies in Mumbai, at least for the immediate future. Which is both awesome, and scary to an extent.
Mumbai, I am coming.

Mumbai doesn't care really. Mumbai doesn't care about who leaves her or who enters her shores to make a living. Most of the ballyhoo about Bombay being hostile to people especially from some parts of the country is utter nonsense, and having lived all my life except about 9 months, in Bombay, I can vouch for this.

So despite the communal politics by all parties (yes, all), Mumbai remains defiant. Mumbai remains multicultural and cosmopolitan.
What is so refreshing. I shall tell a half-secret here. Any social discourse dominated by Marathi is anathema to me, though Marathi is my mother tongue. In fact, any discourse dominated by strong regional flavour of any kind is anathema to me.
Mumbai is the only city yet which has saved me from experiencing this travesty. I have deliberately avoided Marathi events, Marathi groups, et all. I have consciously done it for a decade and more and will continue to do so. But the refreshing part is that I have been able to avoid them without ever being looked upon either as an outsider or as a traitor. Something I have never found anywhere except in Bombay.
In Bombay the milieu has little time for these trifles. It is indeed a blessing for Mumbai that it is such a fast city, and a blessing in several ways. One of the ways is that it helps the city ignore trifles, ignore incidents of little practical consequence, and also ignore propoganda to a large extent. No one really has time to wait and ponder over whether the pavement dweller really belongs here or what some right wing party is bleeting about.

If a stranger walks the streets of Mumbai, she will for sure discover this ignorance in many ways and sometimes be befuddled by it. "People always seem in a hurry", says a friend who is from another city, a metro yet much slower and more laid back. Everybody in Mumbai is in a hurry to reach somewhere - many times the railway station or the office, but also to the nearest restaurant, CCD, market, PVR, or even to a stationery store! Everyone is in a mighty hurry.
In Mumbai time is counted in minutes, even seconds. Catching the 8:52 fast to CST becomes a huge concern of everyday life. People get fidgety if the train is 3 minutes late. "We have spent 25 minutes in this hotel", is a commonly acceptable refrain and 25 minutes in a hotel is a long time here if it's not Sunday evening. 

And yet people find time to smile at each other, on the streets, in hotels, in pubs, in cafes, and even if you step on their feet in the overcrowded local that can be more aptly described as a human demolition derby at peak hours.
Simply because everyone understands that everyone else is also in a hurry and facing the same hurdles that everyone faces in Mumbai.

The filth in Mumbai is nearing monstrous proportions. There are swathes of land breathing in garbage and dirt. There are areas you would never wish to see again in your lives. In the monsoon this gets worse.
The Bombay monsoons are sexy nevertheless - at least from the window of your home or office, or your car. A friend said to me a few days ago in Delhi - "Oh, it's raining heavily!". You wanna see what's heavy rain? Come to Bombay. When it rains so heavily that you can't see five feet in front, that is a heavy downpour. The thrill of that downpour is something no outsider will know unless he or she keeps all biases aside.

There is no real infrastructure except the swanky office buildings. Traveling from one side of Andheri to the other is a perfect nightmare, which can take hours. The metro is being built forever - the work looks like it will be completed by the time Delhi creates infrastructure for virtual transportation. The roads are "fixed" a few months before each monsoon but develop cracks soon after. There are hardly any checks at even major railway stations - this is actually humanly impossible due to the vastness of the crowds and their frequency. And there is more.

And of course who can forget the epic crowds? EPIC. A measure should be included in the census to determine the per square metre crowding of roads in Mumbai. We would beat almost any city in the world, hands down.

And yet - Bombay is gold.

Those who have lived in pleasant, slower cities will never realize what fun it is to be in a hurry all the time. Yes, it is fun to be in a hurry. It is fun to think that 8:52 is a very important time for us. It is FUN, to fight your way into a local. It is fun to grab a vada pao at the street corner because you didn't have time to have a proper lunch!
Why is it so much fun? Because the things we do in a hurry in Bombay forever define the things we do in our lives. The things we do daily are the things we find happiness in. Mumbai forever lives on hope. Mumbai lives in anticipation of a better future that can apparently be cultivated by doing all the things we are doing in a hurry. The feeling is this - I must do XYZ right now (or on time), it will help me gain PQR (something small yet cherished).

Mumbaikars live in the moment. Some people never understand what fun it is to live in the moment, what happiness it gives. Mumbai tries to gain happiness in small steps. And it strives hard to achieve this simple happiness. Happiness and comfort are always earned in Mumbai - the city throws out anyone who bakes their bread living off others' effort and wealth.
In Bombay it is a source of great satisfaction if you don't miss that particular train, or if after a hard day's work stretching into overtime you find that vada pao or pani puri vendor still working. These may be dismissed as very small things to be happy for, but this is what makes Bombay life so beautiful and many of its people so content.

And then you have a Marine Drive, or a Bandstand, or even a Five Gardens, to spend a very measured time in the evening. The fact that you only have, say, 20 minutes which you can spend here, actually improves the experience. It's like when you have less time for recreation, you decide to enjoy every moment of it and subsequently enjoy it more. The stolen moments of recreation are moments of indescribable joy in a Mumbaikar's life. Those who put effort into their day, toil for a piece of bread, and thus experience these moments are the happiest of all. Perhaps that is why the younger people in Mumbai are so optimistic.

This daily hardship also brings about a down-to-earth and friendly attitude amongst the populace. Bombay is known for its warm people. How can people be warm and at the same time, in an amazing hurry and blind to the surrounding atmosphere? But that is how it is here. There are some rude, arrogant idiots too, but by and large the city shows great warmth to strangers.
Perhaps it is just the fact that everyone is just a dot in the many-hued yet united picture of destiny. Everyone is running a hard race and thus everyone empathizes with everyone else.

Then comes the fact that anonymity is never sought in Bombay, it is granted, even to women. "Live and let live" is practised daily here - it is not an ideal sought to be followed here - it is the way of life. Mumbai does not try its best to be liberal, to be non-interfering and tolerant - Mumbai is liberal, non-interfering and tolerant. It's not a belief - it is another taken-for-granted facet of life, almost completely ignored, thus restored to normalcy. Perhaps because we realized long ago that we could not exist and be successful without being liberal and accomodating.

Even safety is almost assured. It is very heartening to live in a city where even the womenfolk do not fear to step out alone even at midnight.

And we do not showcase any of this. The substance in every facet of life far, far exceeds the exhibition.

Bombay is a crazy success story of human will and effort. It is living proof of what can be achieved by a group of motivated human beings. It is also a place where capitalism in a raw form has succeeded beyond boundaries, albeit not universally.
And yet we hardly get the appreciation due. From the most important bank in the country, to the stock exchange, the mint, and several offices and institutions most vital to the very survival of the nation exist and thrive in Mumbai, in the crowded space, expensive space, in pollution, traffic, filth. Just consider BARC and the implications of one terror attack on BARC - a nuclear holocaust is not a far-fetched assertion! And all this is in addition to the money created every day in Mumbai - by various private and public entities - a mindboggling figure.

Bombay is a complete bhagwan-bharose city, ignored for long both by its own corrupt politicians and state goverment, as well as the Central goverment, so focused on North India and the Hindi states. It is almost entirely self-made, brought to glory by its masses, its people, who have toiled for decades, each contributing their bit to building the edifice of its glory.

India might be governed elsewhere, its English-speaking youth might be earning accolades elsewhere, its best educational institutions may lie elsewhere, but India breathes in Mumbai and due to Mumbai.

And this is why I love Mumbai so much. Mumbai, I am coming.

I am a fan of relatively old Bollywood music. When I say relatively old I mean from the late 80s to the late 90s/ early 2000s.

I am not such a big fan of the films of that era, today. I was a big fan of those films, at that time. Why the change now? It seems those films were lacking way too much in creativity, and were way too cheesy, compared to many films of today. Of course there were exceptions but the general trend was what I just described.

And yet today I miss so many of the facets/ nuances of these films:

1) The oft-repeated love story, only with small twists in the script, in each movie.

2) The cheesy dialogues, and the cheesier romantic scenes.

3) The actors dancing in parks, on streets, in gardens, on top of buildings, anywhere..

4) 8-10 songs per movie (and 14 like in the case of Hum Aapke Hain Koun).

5) Movies lasting over 165 minutes, sometimes over 200 minutes.

6) First the depressed/ angry heroes (late 80s - early 90s) and then gentle and kind heroes (mid and late 90s).

7) The fact that heroines had little work except being the girls the heroes chased around.

8) The fact that a "hit" movie ran to packed theatres for 3 months, a "superhit" ran to packed theatres for 6 months and a "blockbuster" for a year or more. Today a movie that lasts 3 months is hailed as "one of the biggest hits of all time". Duh.

9) This one I really feel bad about - the fact that actors and actresses of that era had so much more natural or cultivated ability, so much more screen presence and seemed so much more real than those of today.
Yes, this last one is really true in my opinion - what the artistes of today cannot convey through sensational dialogues or dramatic sequences, the artistes of that era could convey through mere expressions.

And of course I miss the melodious music. From Tezaab (1988), all the way to Mohabbatein (2000). The songs of those times weren't just songs; they were musicals. The ample use of instruments coupled with the epic melodies made for some really wonderful music.

I remember how deeply the characters were brought out in Tezaab. Each character from Anil Kapoor's to Madhuri's to Chunky Pandey's to Anupam Kher's to Suresh Oberoi's was very well constructed and almost each character served a purpose in the movie. The film was great because of its characters and of course, its music.

I remember the music of Saajan (1991). It was in my opinion one of the most melodious albums that I have known. Then I remember Divya Bharti in Deewana (1993), and the fact that most of the movie's songs were excellent. I remember loving SRK's role in Baazigar (1993), as the crazy yet calculated anti-hero, and understanding the fact that Darr was his film, and not Sunny Deol's, even though he played a psychotic villian.

I remember Madhuri Dixit and Salman Khan in Hum Aapke Hain Koun (1994), a movie that lacked good direction and was full of the nonsense that is a North Indian marriage. And yet the movie was superbly carried by Madhuri and Salman and its music. Some of the scenes in the movie are so entrenched in my memory that I will not forget them even when I go senile in old age.

DDLJ was a movie I intially ignored and yet it provided the defining image of 90s Bollywood - the image of SRK and Kajol hugging in a lush green field - one for the ages.

I could go on describing, but I wish to cut it short. Suffice to say that I thorougly enjoyed the songs of now-cheesy and outdated films like Dil To Pagal hai ('97) and Kuch Kuch Hota Hai ('98).

And then came Kaho Naa Pyaar Hai (2000) and Hrithik, and he was awesome on debut. I remember how the kids went crazy over his Ek Pal Ka Jeena dance, his hunk like looks and his height, how the movie ran to packed theatres for months and then for a year, and how people boasted about having watched the movie some 20 times, 40 times, 60 times. (I have myself watched it 18 times and I dunno why, it was not THAT good!).

But most of all I miss the fact that many of us had long memories in those days. Our favourite songs and our favourite movies lasted months, even years, in our minds, and we cherished it when we were able to watch these movies, however cheesy they may seem now.

The internet age has undermined the significance of durability in many ways, and yet I might be speaking like an outdated idiot, or a fool, because 30 years later, the internet age of today might seem like a slow, boring, outdated time to those that come after us.

But that old era will never be forgotten, at least by me.

Boredom....

It's been about three weeks.

A lot has happened during the last 3 weeks and most of it has been bad.

But that is no longer on my mind. My path is somewhat set and only the wheels need to work now.

But this is BORING.

Boredom is one of the greatest curses in life - it is more lethal than the most lethal drug ever invented.

And it has followed me for about two weeks now.

In fact, since a week or so, it has become nearly unbearable. Prior to that, I at least had anxiety to help me spend the day.

One visit to Delhi two days ago was tiring on the body but at least momentarily refreshing on the mind. For the first time I was able to meet a friend who has been a friend for over two years. It was fun, CP was fun, the cafes were fun, the rain was fun.
And yet it was only momentary. The moment I returned to boring Ghaziabad I was pissed off again.
Delhi would have been a nice place to hang out every day. But it is about 30 kms from here. 30 kms to any worthwhile place in Delhi. About 25 kms of that is a stretch of uncivilized stupidity. How can there be a city in which there are NO sources of any real entertainment, where the surrounding is so sick-looking and unfurnished, where there are no street lights and where 70% of the crowd is a bunch of jobless vagabonds? Add to that the general lack of any sort of safety even in broad daylight.

I guess this is the effect of having lived in a metro for 23 years - I find some small towns very repulsive.
But that's not my fault, is it?

It's obviously impossible to travel 60 kms every day for entertainment. It might still have been possible if not for my shallow pocket and the hole that would be burnt in it if I were to travel to Delhi and back, each day.

I have wondered for a long time now, why was IMT not built in Delhi? But I guess it matters little now.

I am planning on one more trip to Delhi, again to meet the same friend, since I have some time on my hands now. I hope it is a 7-8 hour meet up this time, and no rain because it ruins the possibility of exploring a place, however much I like it.

But one more trip in 9 more days means at least 7 days of utter boredom, even if I manage to spend one day doing some new interesting things.

I pray to whatever I consider God, to make these 7 or 8 days pass without boredom engulfing me whole.

A huge thought....

I woke up from a nap last evening and felt like I wanted to rush back to Mumbai right at that moment. To hold on to something that still belongs to me - My City.

For 16 months my life had been built around a different base. I need to reinvent my life now, though there are no immediate excitements to look forward to. I need to stick to my decision. I am proud I stuck to my values and on my path. I wanna make sure I will continue to be proud.

What Is Herd Mentality/ Peer Pressure?

We have often heard of this term - peer pressure. Peer pressure seems to be something very unique, very strong and inevitable. It is mostly experienced in colleges and at the workplace, i.e. in less controlled environments.
So what is peer pressure? It is the pressure to conform to the collective lifestyle/ideas of a randomly selected group. It can range from very silly things such as everyone in a "group" being obliged to wear the same colour clothes on a particular day, by "consensus", to something as serious as committing murder/ indulging in drug trafficking.

But colleges and workplaces are not the only havens of "peer pressure". Homes are too. With home comes family. Many families make society. Apparently the society, by "consensus" again, establishes for itself some standards of how to live, called "values". These values are considered virtually sacrosanct in the sense that anyone contradicting them is liable for ostracism. Over time these values change, but every change is resisted by a majority of the society.

It is important to realize that even this kind of pressure to conform is "peer pressure" of a kind. In better terms, it is herd mentality. Everyone wants to be like everyone else because no one wishes to be ostracized. Everyone also thinks everyone else would disapprove if they did something out of the common, so they avoid doing it. Most of the elements in a modern society profess to be "moderate" in their worldview themselves, but explain that they have to pay heed to "social reputation/pressure" and thus follow the rigid path.

This is an ironic situation, and would be funny if it were not so omnipresent and serious. This is the exact definition of "herd mentality". People behave like each other, and pressurize others, or those they have control over, to behave like them, so as not to offend "society". The funny part of the matter is, if most people in a society conform only out of pressure, where does the pressure actually originate from? Where is the source of these "common shared values?"

Quite simply, the ideologies of a society are NOT formed by majority opinion. Those who create social values are mostly either intellectuals, or motivated classes. They are never the masses, in any case. Masses are of two types - those whose lives have to remain subservient because of their poverty/powerlessness, and those who choose to remain subservient to some ideology because they seek "acceptance".

In other words, social norms are created by a select few, and given the aura of sanctity, so that they are acceptable to most people. Typically, the people who create these norms hold considerable influence in the hearts and minds of the general populace, due to one reason or the other.

Thus it can be concluded that peer pressure/social obligation is nothing but a farce. It is an illusion that is widely perceived to be real. It is brought about by consistently fooling oneself and others.

This does not imply that having values in life is naturally undesirable. But there is an exigent necessity to keep questioning so-called "social norms" and to express, and let others express, individuality. Living in a semi-monolithic society is as dangerous to human welfare and self-actualization as it is ridiculous.

This also means that every human being must act in a particular way only if she/he sees merit in doing so, or enjoys doing so. This is true for each and every activity, whether it is knowledge gain, social service, or consumption of alcohol. No one "needs" to give in to social pressure, because there actually isn't anything of the sort in existence.