Vyazz Sez

The Mamma’s Boy

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Sun, 08 Mar 2020 08:25:00 +0000

In 2006, my father fell terribly ill and had to be admitted in the ICU. He underwent an angioplasty and proceeded to later develop pneumonia and severe septic shock.

My mother was with him at the time.

And I was in a med school in St. Petersburg Russia, utterly unaware that back home my father was on ventilatory support.

Our relatives and the treating doctors implored her to call me and ask me to return home, on account of my fathers condition, but my mother never did.

My mother (a pathological optimist and a woman of unwavering faith) decided to never inform me, her only son, that my father was grievously ill, since she firmly believe he'd recover and I shouldn't be bothered, as it would affect my education.

My father did recover much to the surprise of most of the physicians treating him, and I only realized the gravity of the situation when I visited India for my winter vacation.

Any woman or man, in her place would be splitting hairs, but not her.

It is also of an interesting point to note that my mother is physically handicapped. As in she has difficulty walking on a day to day basis.

This woman faced with such a monumental situation decided to let me be. This woman decided to bear the storm herself, and refused to cower to depression, frustration or any ounce of weakness.

The only adjective I can use for my mother, is adamantine.

Adamantine, stubbornly resolute and a pillar of strength.

I've always admired her care a damn attitude, but this one incident will remain in my memory forever.

My mother has faced numerous difficulties with a ridiculous smile on her face. It has even led to heated arguments between me and her when my life would be blowing up in my face and my mother would have a placid pragmatic and positive approach to everything.

My mother and I don't always agree on everything.

But my rebellious mother is a prime example of a woman who's the very personification of strength.

She had her own interior design firm, which she later discontinued in order to focus more on my upbringing (something I wish she hadn’t done)

Despite her physical difficulties she continues to whip up delicacies in the kitchen.

Perhaps it's this aspect that makes me attracted to rebels, social weirdos and misfits.

Owing to my mother, I visualize an ideal woman as a pillar of strength and fortitude.

My mother is this ridiculous internet addicted goofball, who keeps bombarding me with viral videos even when I'm at work.

But I'm very grateful to this goofball who introduced me to faith, to Harry Potter, to emergency medicine (when I was depressed and massively confused about my career) to Oscar Wilde and to an excellent culinary taste.

She's always been my anchor

And she's an example of how a parent should be

A mentor, a best friend, a nag and a confidant.

Proud to be a Mammas boy to this day!

Righteousness is Balance

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Sun, 08 Mar 2020 06:54:00 +0000

An atom is made of protons, electrons and neutrons

The number of positively charged protons equal the negatively charged electrons

An imbalance between the sheer numbers of protons and neutrons and electrons leads to an unstable atom

The universe operates on an unwritten rule of absolute stability

So does nature

Stability is composed of polar opposites of like and unlike forces

Night and day

Creation and destruction

Birth and death

For the existence of a universe it’s forces need to be an absolute balance of both halves

An imbalance or disproportion leads to chaos and widespread instability

In Hindu philosophy the forces of both positive and negative must exist ideally in balance

It’s the basic Universal rule which is absolute

And non negotiable

The “good” Devas exist alongside the “evil” Asuras

Inherently both Devas and Asuras pray to the absolute Bhraman (“God” in the terms of a non spiritual layman), to grant them victory.

A non Hindu practitioner would laugh so as to why a God would answer the prayers of an Asura

Since western thought has always been innately primitive in its classification of “good” and “bad” they failed to comprehend the sense of balance

Asuras have been ordained to be “negative/devious/evil” just as Devas have been ordained to be “positive/noble/good”

But there have been Asuras who’ve won accolades more than the “noble” Devas

And an Asura isn’t a sinful being as an Asura is merely acting out on how he/she has been created

Just as a mosquito isn’t “sinful” for harbouring disease and biting you. It’s merely doing what it has been ordained to do.

That being said, neither is a Deva “pious”

A Deva is merely doing what he/she can in view of their innate nature

The role of “God” here is balance and justice

If the pride of Devas and their sheer number, outnumbers Asuras He/She shall grant victory to Asuras

If the tyranny of Asuras and their number overpowers the Devas He/She shall grant victory to the Devas

And this event shall be cyclic, from eon to eon.

Nature shuns imbalance and abhors asymmetry

And thereby so does the universe

Followers of various religions envision a day where their religion shall be the dominant religion of the entire earth

But in a massive insult to their own egregious oversight owing to their dogmatic belief system, that day shall never come.

Because it’s in violation of the law ordained by the Universe

An entity far greater than the little book they believe in.

The universe exists in a system of a heterogeneous environment

It’s the like and unlike aspects of this heterogenous environment that in the end creates the stable homeostasis of the universe

An atom cannot be composed of only protons

Similarly there is no such thing as one gender, there are two polar opposite genders

And thus in an absolute affront to their respective messiahs, the earth will NEVER have just one religion or a belief system

Nature shuns homogenisation as much as it shuns asymmetry

A whole being can only exist when two polar halves of opposite natures conjoin together.

Coming to the Hindu aspect of Karma

Even Karma is balance

There is negative and positive Karma

And both need to exist in their own equal numbers

Of all the promises made by different Gods of different religions, the promise of MahaVishnu on the field of the Mahabharata war stands out

“Whenever there is decay of righteousness, O Bharata, And there is exaltation of unrighteousness, then I Myself come forth ; For the protection of the good, for the destruction of evil-doers, For the sake of firmly establishing righteousness, I am born from age to age”

People bemoan that God is non existent as evil exits and good suffers

What they fail to see that evil also is eliminated and the good also obtains victory from time to time

“God” created “evil” with the same cosmic intent of creating “good”

Gods “job” isn’t the creation of a homogenous cosmic utopia of perpetual positive elements

This would be a failure of the universal law of balance and the heterogeneous law of equilibrium between two unequal forces

Gods “job” is to maintain and sustain balance

Hence MahaVishnu declared inherently that he shall “Restore Balance” if unrighteousness “exceeds” the sheer numbers and aspects of righteousness

He never mentioned that all of righteousness shall disappear and all of the unrighteous shall be eliminated

He will ONLY appear when there is a state of imbalance to restore balance

Until then the world shall exist in a state of perpetual equilibrium

This applies to even Karma

Karma is merely equilibrium and a state of justice

Prophesy states that yes, there will be a time when the universe again dissolves onto nothingness

What shall prompt this dissolution is unknown

But this has occurred before

And shall happen again

But that day is not today

And when it dissolves into non existence,

by the will of the maker it shall reappear

And when it does, it shall reappear with its positive and negative elements of Devas, Asuras, light, darkness etc

If I were you, I’d concentrate less about focusing piety and sin, and more on realising the fact that you’re merely a particle ordained to perform a certain function based on the will of the universe to maintain equilibrium

Far be it for me to say which part of the positive or negative spectrum you fall in.

That is for the Universe to decide.

Of Marriages and Matrimony

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Tue, 18 Feb 2014 17:57:00 +0000

There comes a time in our lives, when driven by a primal instinct instinct of raging hormones, tepid insecurity and the wanton need for company, we begin searching for the one person we wish to spend the rest of our lives with.
Every culture, species and civilization on this earth has devoted immense time and energy for the sole purpose of "settling down" with that special someone.
Mating calls by birds, dances of death by scorpions and the whiff of charged pheromones in the air by other mammals, signal the beginning of a most satisfying encounter, fulfilling the evolutionary need to meet, mate and propagate.
The same goes for us humans as well.
But humans given the evolutionary right of being a complex species, have established their own complex mating rituals.
And it has changed through centuries of trial and error, raging from shy glances by the women whilst watching their knights duel one another, to applying enough make up akin to the war paint of a tribal amazon and lust after a hunky male gyrating sensuously on the dance floor.
Somehow though, evolution has little meaning in a particular south Asian nation, where marriages are "arranged" and meetings between the two chosen candidates are closely scrutinized by their overbearing caregivers.
And India being the fabled nation of the IT boom, the arranged marriage scenario has taken a 21st century avatar spawning a slew of websites devoted to finding your one true arranged partner.

Pretty much like an adult dating site, except with the auspicious blessings of your parents, grandparents and family astrologer.
And to make sure, one isn't left behind on the tides of change, yours truly has been inculcated into the matrimony mayhem.
At first, it seemed pretty much like a social networking site. With your profile pics and self praising taglines and online chat worthy members.
Except the fact that its a much sadder version of a dating site.
Guys with profile pics akin to the passport sized photos one uses for a driving license or an office resume. And the ladies dressed up in their Sunday best, hair in place and smiling eerily as if held hostage by a demented stalker.
But its the self advertisement that gets you.
Its no small wonder that the telegram has survived in India to this date. Indians seem to be men of few words and frankly their profiles speak for themselves.
For the guys its "Hardworking, honest, and clean habits", for the girls, its "sweet, homely and fair complexion".
Now if that doesn't ignite the ravenous passions in you, I don't know what will.
The next part involves praising your skills.
Guys aren't meant to have skills in the Indian marriage market.
They're meant to have jobs and degrees and hefty paycheck. The more degrees and the moolah, the better your chances of landing a fair skinned, homely damsel with the cooking skills of a star chef.
Degrees don't matter to the women though.
Its imperative for them to be homely and good looking. And having any extra ability to sing or dance or knit is an absolute plus. Probably she can entertain her industrious well educated husband as he feasts on her chicken tikka masala wearing the home spun sweater she knitted, nursing a glass of chardonnay, as she sings and gyrates rapturously to the latest Bollywood number.

Least thats what I can imagine. Else why would you brag about your "skills" in the first place?
Not to mention all this is possible only with the blessings of your family astrologer.
God forbid if your charts are askew. It can only spell doom for you arranged life of marital bliss.
Most of the instant responses I've gotten are simply on account of me being a doctor.
Doctors and engineers are apparently prized highly on the market.
Somehow its ludicrous how ecstatic people can become when they land up a doctor groom. Even if he's probably a delusional maniac. Its the degree that counts. Not the personality.
This is literally what contemporary Indian society has come to.
A shallow paltry commune of petty pretentious people with preposterous preconceptions.
I cannot imagine what genuine affection can possibly exist in a match made solely on the basis of monetary success and homemaking skills.
Such "alliances" are an affront to the very idea of genuine affection.
In the quest for looking for a "decent bride or groom" people have grossly overlooked the very essence of humanity.

Even Indian mythologies have stories of being smitten by love at first sight, runaway marriages and tales of affection and longing. I don't recall a single epic with any arranged marriage involved.
There is nothing traditional in a system that defies basic human convention.
And there is nothing traditional about a system that overlooks the basics of character and focuses solely on the superficial trivialities of your job or your cooking skills.
Moreover in hindsight, marriage is a journey. One that you make through all the ups and downs with your partner for life.
Getting an instantly successful husband without ever being a part of his struggle is woefully indicative of how trivial the relationship is going to be.
Its not something I'd ever want to be in.
Or for that matter anyone ought to be in.
Its about time that people reminded themselves what marriages are all about.
And hopefully bask again in genuine warmth and affection.
To quote Oscar Wilde, "You don't love someone for their looks, or their clothes, or for their fancy car, but because they sing a song only you can hear."

Of Depths and Distances

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Sat, 03 Aug 2013 15:20:00 +0000

There are somethings in life, that defy comprehension. No matter how much you try to make sense of it all, the basic explanations to all your queries remain unanswered. Answers remain elusive and questions haunt you for ages.

I have learnt the hard way, that try as I might, I might never seek the answers to any of my queries. Its the bitter pill that circumstance forces us to swallow.

I write this, out of an overwhelming urge to make sense of it all. Perhaps the key could even lie in the melancholic musings of myself.

A lot of us have to endure some sort of angst throughout our lives. Some are devoid of love, some yearn for the for support, others vie for wealth. And each is thwarted in their attempts to secure what they need most by an adversary.

In my case the adversaries have been distances.

The deeper the depths of the relations I forge, the longer the distances that I have had to endure.

It seems, that every time I forge a deep connection with someone, I am made to part ways with them.

Since as long as I can remember have always abhorred being alone, or being separated form those I love.

And yet time and again, circumstance makes it so, that the deeper the depths of my relations, the more longer the distances grow.

They say distances make hearts grow fonder.

I believe that it has only made mine more weary.

Weary of having to be constantly separated from those you love.

Weary of having to make critical choices that make me move miles from those I consider nearest.

Most of my friends have never understood how I could miss my mom and dad at this day and age. And the very notion that I miss my dog seems ludicrous to them.

But thats how I'm built.

And besides, my family is a well oiled unit where we can speak our minds, with an absolute freedom of expression, and mutual support. Unlike most families of today that are forged out of indifference and apathy. In which case I can understand why the children bolt away from home the first chance they get.

And speaking of friends, I had an excellent friend back in medical school.

Someone with whom I could act the goat and not have a care.

An excellent friend who stood by me the six years of medical school. Someone whom I could call anytime of the day, no matter how trivial the reason.

A friend who I shall probably never see again. Since we now live in two different countries separated by a chasm of time and circumstance.

I'm honestly tired of forging relations only to be wrenched off them in the long run.

I'm weary of being constantly separated from those I love and have them exist only in my memory.

People who have had the opportunity of growing up with their loved ones and having a best friend for as long as they can remember have no idea how blessed they are.

Then again I suppose we each have our blessings and our curses.

Mine being having to part ways with those I love and cherish most.

A lot of things in life are not fair.

And while I am quite grateful for what I have at my disposal, it wouldn't hurt to have a loved one by my side. So that there is someone with whom I can share whatever I see and experience, for as long as I can remember.

I hope that one day I can throw caution to the wind,

and forge relations of great depth, that no distance can undo.

Overlooking Handicaps

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Mon, 17 Sep 2012 07:05:00 +0000

Yesterday, after a nearly year long hiatus, I decided to go to the movie theater. The movie they were playing was a Bollywood film called Barfi. In a nutshell, the film basically focused on the life and antics of a lovable deaf mute guy called Barfi and the two lady loves of his life, one of them being Autistic.
I must say, I did quite enjoy the film. Probably one of the best pieces of cinema that Bollywood has churned out in a really long time. Devoid of pointless melodrama and ridiculous dance numbers.
The best part about the movie is, that while I laughed and followed the antics of Barfi and his autistic partner, not even for a moment did I sympathize with either of the characters.
The film was not about evoking sympathy. I believe that was never the agenda. While countless movies have been made on the blind, deaf and physically handicapped people, they were done so to evoke sympathy from the audience. So we can feel their pathos and suffering.
But this movie had a different note altogether. This was not about sympathy. This was a wonderful saga of a happy go lucky guy who made everyone laugh, and not even for a moment did you feel sorry for him in the long run. Being deaf mute was only a part of his persona. Not his persona by itself. His deafness and the inability to converse became an absolute non issue in the log run. You just focused more on his life and his interactions with those around him. The movie painted such a wonderful picture of a world I had completely forgotten. Full of childlike innocence and mirth coupled with a devil may care attitude.
Barfi being handicapped never even came into the picture. You just forgot about it.

Everyone is born with a handicap. Either mental or physical. Perfection was never a part of our design. Some are fat, some are painfully shy, some can be claustrophobic while others have some sort of physical deformity.
But in the long run, it completely depends upon you. So as to how do you wish the world looks upon you.
Whether you want society to sympathize with you throughout your existence, or do you want the world to see you as something well beyond your inabilities.
A great deal of us yearn for attention. A great deal of us want the world and society to feel our pain and understand what we are going through. And throughout our lives we constantly strive to get their attention, only to fail time and again. And then later depart into the bowels of loneliness and self pity.
If you thought the world is ever going to see or understand your suffering, you're sadly mistaken.
Newsflash, its never going to happen.
What you can do however, is become someone who stands well beyond your shortcomings and redefine yourself.
When people think of you, their first thought ought to be about your positive aspects.
People ought to remember you as say, an amazing writer, a loyal friend, a talented cook or a brilliant professional.
Not as, the bald guy, or the stuttering girl or the divorcee.
Your handicaps or your dysfunctional background shouldn't superimpose upon your persona.

Many people succumb to fussing over their disabilities, constantly reminding the world of how miserable they are. But what good would that even do? All you're doing is creating a sad stereotype that you will be branded with for the rest of your life.
The very definition of you should be about your achievements and not about your afflictions.
History remembers Maugham as a brilliant writer, not as the man with the stutter. The same goes for Julius Caesar who is remembered as a military mastermind and not the man with epilepsy.
It completely depends upon you, so as to whether you'd like to focus on your shortcomings, or brush them aside and look at the bigger picture.
One needs the carefree attitude of a child to pretend and become someone beyond your inabilities. So that the world tomorrow sees you as someone well beyond his or her afflictions.
Obsessing and focusing about your shortcomings will get you nowhere. Nor will it win you the sympathy you crave.
Just like in the movie, Barfi made you look beyond his handicap and made you laugh and look up in awe at the magical world he wove about him.
That's truly how life ought to be.
Filled with magic, innocence and wonder, just cruising forward and keeping all your shortcomings at bay, as if they never existed in the first place.

Inner Demons

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Fri, 29 Jul 2011 03:34:00 +0000

The media is abuzz with the death of Amy Winehouse.
Its funny how only when someone famous passes away, you begin to develop an interest into the lives of the said individual.
The same goes for me.
I had never heard her music before, nor did I pay much attention to her accolades. Nevertheless, its only when she began to come on news for all the wrong reasons, my interest peaked, and I followed her misadventures with a certain degree of interest. Its strange, how people pay more attention to you when your life is spiraling out of control. When its so easy to point fingers and laugh at an individual when they are at their worst. When we coolly pass judgement and laugh at their misgivings.
And when, suddenly out of the blue, when the individual who was the butt of all your jokes for a long time, succumbs to his/her miseries, you take interest in their lives.
Such would be my case.

But beyond the vague interest, lies a deeper emotion of empathy.
Something that perhaps reaches out to you through the darkness entrapping your soul.
I can only imagine, how hard it is to fight long drawn battles with yourself.
When even though your intentions are pure, your actions speak otherwise.
When although placid and aloof on the outside, inside you are screaming for attention. Like a stricken sailor amidst a raging tempest, calling out for help, only to have his voice drowned out by the storm.
Its when the demons within you begin to take hold of yourself, you are caught unaware and feel powerless to do anything about it.
When you wish to call out for help, but cannot because of the morbid fear that no one will come.
And its during this time you are most stricken.
For some of us, everyday can be battle.
To battle with circumstance is one thing, to battle with yourself is a whole new ball game.
So many people have gone down fighting their inner demons, because perhaps no one came to their aid. Or perhaps they were too afraid to ask for assistance. Either way it has never ended well.

Perhaps the one reason no one ever asks for aid, is because of the morbid fear of being misunderstood or misjudged.
And that's when things take a turn for the worse.
I believe, that unlike popular conception, angels and demons aren't disembodied beings who ride on your shoulder egging you in different directions.
I believe angels and demons are the two halves of your very soul, that can either guide you or torment you in the years to come.
Its only when your inner demons grow stronger, they consume you like a fatal disease, debilitating you one step at a time.
We all have inner demons within us.
But not all of us have to undergo the torment they impose.
Its fighting them that's most exhausting.
While the world is out there judging you for the "error of your ways" you know the uphill battle you have to fight day in and day out.

And not everyday is a victory.
When you know you have fallen within, you still make a brave face before those around you. And might even feign a wide grin to hide the pain within.
So basically you have to live out a charade outside, and fight for your sanity on the inside.
And in doing so for a long period of time you begin to break, the cracks show and you fall deep into the abyss, forsaken and forlorn.

Nevertheless it doesn't always have to end this way.
If only those close to you could see the warning signs. If only they could have lent a hand to save you from falling deep into the point of no return. If only they could have held you when you were deeply shaken, exhausted from your constant battles with yourself. If only they knew..
If only they knew.
Unless you're a hermit meditating deep into the woods, you as a human are a social animal.
Unfortunately all society can do today is point fingers, mock and pass judgement.
But atleast those close to you can be of assistance if they wish.
Sometimes I even wonder why people bother to forge bonds with one another if they are the first ones to abandon you at your time of need, like rats forsaking a scuttled ship.
Fighting your demons requires tremendous strength.

It leaves you exhausted by the end of the day, unable to think or act.
But if you're fortunate, you can be strong enough to win this battle.
People often pray for money, success or other pointless things. When the real thing they ought to be praying for is strength.
Its only those strong of will and a good support system that come out of this battle unscathed. Whereas a good many aren't so fortunate, mainly because of personal apathy and social indifference.
I suppose in the end, when the going gets tough, all you can do is rest your sights on the smouldering embers of hope amidst the ashes. And pray that someday you will come out victorious and unscathed.

I Believe.....

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Tue, 25 Jan 2011 14:58:00 +0000

Every year, in the month of January, huge colossal crowds of men gather in the dense forested hilltop of Sabarimala, in Kerala. Some have come as far as hundreds of miles to witness a spectacle, that occurs only once a year, when the sun begins its transit into the zodiac of Capricorn (Makara).
On this day, from across the horizon, people witness the flickering of a bright light known as the Makara Jyoti (the light of Capricorn). Now this light emits from within the dense forests of Sabarimala, across the landscape briefly three times, signifying the divine presence of Lord Aiyappa (a popular South Indian deity).
And on this very day, people throng amongst thousands, to witness this divine spectacle.
A spectacle that has occurred year after year, since time immemorial.

Now as all things pertaining to faith, this spectacle too has not escaped the throes of controversy. At least in recent times. Rationalists and atheists have debunked this spectacle as being man made, and not divine, much to the chagrin of the believers across the country.
Of course this is not the first time, where this accusation has been made.
Nevertheless, year after year, the crowds grow and the spectacle continues.
Sometimes I wonder, so as to what the so called rationalists aim to achieve.
I believe that everyone is entitled to his beliefs and doubts.
Its only when people choose to stick their beliefs down others throats, it gets annoying.
India, is a land of a multitude of faiths and beliefs.

Faiths that have grown accustomed to being amongst each other for centuries. And as a consequence, there is a strange, nevertheless chaotic balance that connects every individual in this country.
Every village has a local legend. A local deity, local miracles, a haunting, and the sort.
Everyone has his or her version of the history of creation, mythology and philosophies pertaining to life.
Children are taught tales of mythological heroes of old, and stories of generosity and virtue. Creating a role model for them to look up to in their infant years.
No one has seen the heroes of old. Nor has anyone viewed their exploits. But its the belief, that at one point of time, there might have existed such an individual, known for his daring exploits. A role model to look up to, during the most darkest of our days, during the most trying circumstances.
And that's the purpose a belief serves.

In the current era, the most easiest thing to do is question, to doubt and to be skeptical of everything that goes on about us. To be rational about everything.
And how does being rational help?
It gives you answers.
It tells you fact for what it is. It unravels the truth.
So hypothetically you now do know the truth.
You now know that the heroes of old probably never existed. All the legends and stories are a sham.
There are no miracles. Just accidents and coincidences.
So there you are,
the truth is right before you.
Now what?
What remains in an existence that is bereft of belief and hope?
Where do you go, in the darkest hour of your need, when you do not have the strength to face whats before you, and your loved ones are stand helpless?
In a world where belief is non existent, and faith is a thing of the past, now that you have everything figured out, all you have left, is to succumb to your fate.
That's it.
End of story.
People underestimate the power of belief.
The power the human mind holds over sentient life.

One of the best known examples, in medical science is the placebo effect. Where test subjects were administered dummy pills with the belief that it will cure their migraines or cold or other assorted maladies. Though the pills contained nothing in them, the subjects reportedly felt better after their administration. The placebo effect is a small but sure example of how the human mind responds to even the most trivial of beliefs.
Basically, a system of beliefs, creates a feeling of well being. A feeling of purpose and direction in life, which no amount of rational explanation can achieve.
Even if some beliefs might sound ludicrous to a good deal of people, as long as it helps the individual in question, why take it away?
Whether or not a spectacle is divine or man made, whether or not legends and myths are real or fabrications, it is irrelevant, as long as it gives one hope, and feeling of being special to a great multitude of humans.
You cannot take away belief from us, because that is the one core thing that separates us from the other species. Its the one thing that makes us human.
Parents tell their children that they are special. Can you imagine a rational perspective where a child is told, "you are just like everyone else, there's nothing special or different about you".
Then what can the child possibly aspire towards?
Its something tot think about.
Beliefs are necessary.
Personal, spiritual or religious.
I choose to believe.
I believe in a purpose, an ideal and whatever legend or incident, that serves to guide humanity as a beacon of light through the darkest of days.
If there's one thing I do not believe in, its accidents and coincidence.
The world seems a lot more magical that way.
The rationalists can have their world. Mundane and devoid of any hope whatsoever.
I choose to stick to mine.

Of Service And Servitude

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Sun, 16 Jan 2011 15:16:00 +0000

Of late, I have been bit by the lazy bug. And frankly apart from hitting the gym in the evenings, there's nothing much I do of late. I suppose I'm in a phase of absolute mental hibernation, where I just practically lounge around all day, without any agenda or commitment. The postings in the hospital are light and so I decided to give my self some time to cool my heels.
But certain things are easier said than done.
I take my phases of absolute indifference and apathy rather seriously, and frankly it irks me a good deal when circumstance, forces me out of my revere and thrusts me back into the mundane aspects of reality.
Thus, I was interrupted from my meditative state of indifference, by the shrill screeching of a woman's voice.
I turns out, that my mother was arguing with a maidservant over her wages.
Now, normally I'm the sort of a person who doesn't care a damn. But in this case, the woman managed to arouse my curiosity, by increasing her screeching to an earsplitting crescendo that would probably give a banshee a run for her money.
As it turns out, the female in question, was asking an astronomically obscene amount of money for doing an infinitesimal amount of work.
Now it was my turn to start screaming, much to my own surprise.
It took a while for my baritone to tone her down to a shrill squeak and after much pointless haggling, she left muttering curses and hexes under her breath.
Now this whole incident has left me quite unnerved if not exasperated to say the very least.

I hate servants.
I despise them, detest them, abhor and loathe them with all my heart and soul.
They do really shoddy work. They have come really close to destroying my Russian souvenirs countless times while "dusting" the shelf. And to make matters worse, I cannot find anything in my room once they are done "cleaning" it.
Of course they are quite eager to please, and it causes the average Indian chest to swell a few notches higher, when servants practically run like loyal minions, to lift their grocery bags.
To me, its nothing but fiddlesticks!
Frankly I just cannot bring myself to terms with the great grand Indian tradition of ordering people about.

Indians are masters at being masters. They love to be serviced and served.
Our house as of now has two gardeners, one driver, two maids, two security guards and a female who comes in the evening to lend a hand in the kitchen for my mum.
This might seem as an extravagance to those in western countries, but in India its usually the norm.
Its a far cry from living in Russia for the past six years.
I had to do things by myself. Shop for groceries, do the laundry, cook, clean my room and in the "spare time" study.
I don't regret it one bit.
I loved every instance of it.
It gave me a sense of self control. A control over my life. The ability to do things when I wanted, the way I wanted. Not depending on anybody for anything.
It was just so wonderfully simple. No hassles, no squabbles and no pointless waiting for someone to swoop down and help you with your chores.
In India on the other hand, almost every household, ranging from large bungalows to pea sized apartments have servants.

Its almost as if people here have a phobia of doing their own chores.
Here the real effort lies in ordering people about.
No matter what, I just cannot give my self the self authoritative pompousness that is needed to yell at the night security guard for dozing off at 9pm or the gardener for not watering the rose bushes. I just don't care a damn, much to the exasperation of my parents.
Now I can understand the basic need for a domestic help, if the house in question is rather large, and difficult to maintain, or if both spouses are working.
But it flabbergasts me so as to why hideously obese Indian housewives who are not working, need servants for their moderately sized homes.
Someone might cry hoarse saying that women are not objects of labor.
But frankly, I doubt picking up your own stuff and keeping your own house clean can be akin to slave driving. The same would go for Indian men as well.
There is a certain dignity and independence in doing your own chores. Where you truly become the master of your home.
I have therefore specifiably forbidden any servant to enter my room.
As a consequence, my room is a mess. The clothes are lying about, the desk is unkempt.
But in short, its my mess.
Its my space, and that's the way I like it.There is an aspect of blissful independence when you know you are in control of your surroundings.
Instead of waiting upon some loon to come and redistribute your "mess".
Of course its something a good deal of Indians don't feel. I suppose its some sort of Maharaja hangover, where one likes to be waited hand and foot for everything.
The problem with this country, is that everything you say or do is an aspect of your "status symbol".
The amount of servants you own, whether you are chauffeured or chose to drive by your self.
Its maddening but true. As I kid I remember being ridiculed among fellow third graders in my for once coming to school in a rickshaw.
The amount of human dependence is ridiculously large in India.
Its ironic that it was in India that Gandhi propagated the thought of self help and self service.
Though the only place self service currently exists in India are the McDonald's and Dominoes franchise.
Well, with all the sarcasm apart, at least its a start!

Life On Autopilot

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Mon, 10 Jan 2011 13:26:00 +0000

It has been quite a while since I wrote something. And while in the past I have attributed numerous reasons for my writers block, I can only say that looking back none of those reasons have anything to do with me not writing. People always blame circumstance for whatever state of mind or condition they happen to be. But sometimes in life, I believe that things turn out because of the mindset you have rather than the force of circumstance.
As of now, the circumstances couldn't be more favorable. Most of my major postings are done with, so I have more free time on my hands. So technically and ideally nothing ought to thwart me from writing. And yet, day after day I struggle to come up with ideas to put into writing, because lets face it, a writer needs more than just time to produce his or her work.
Back in St.Petersburg, in spite of my classes, my tests, shopping for groceries, doing the dishes, and cooking, I always managed to write something. Because I was never bereft of ideas.
Back in India on the other hand after a while, I have a dearth of them.
Somehow I decided to fight my state of my mind and tried my best to come up with something, only to end up with an article that ended up insulting my friends, and another one that made me look like a juvenile ranting lunatic.
So technically it would have been better off if I hadn't written them in the first place.
This is what happens when you fight with time.
If something isn't meant to be it isn't meant to be.
If I wasn't meant to write back then that's how I ought to have kept it.
This is not an escapist philosophy, but a strong epiphany I felt this morning.
Sometimes, life is a lot more comprehensible, when you just let things take their course, and not stand like a stubborn rock before the tide of time. You'll just end up being swept away.
And no one can know this better than me, because I have lived all my life as a drifter.
Like a log of wood, caught in a river stream.

In short, a significant portion of my life has always been on autopilot.
I do not recall making even one conscious decision my whole life.
Things just seem to happen, and I just mosey on.
For instance, I never made a conscious decision to take up blogging. It just happened. I did not get up one fine day and say,"from now on I'm going to blog, and I will blog once each week."
It just happened. There was no decision and no commitment. And I managed to come up with some really good articles no matter how busy I was.
My co interns keep asking me why did I decide to go to Russia. I swear to God I have no clue. I just did. But I'm glad I did. In Russia, I was kept away from every crises my family was facing back then, and frankly, had I stayed back stubbornly in India fighting the tide of time, I would have been severely affected by whatever problems we had then and might not have even graduated. I was safe, secure and kept aloof from whatever was transpiring back home.
Things as a consequence turned out just right.
Like I said, I seem to drift from one place to another, without making a conscious decision.

Back in the 11th grade, my school principal asked me what career would I like to pursue. I just blurted out "medicine". To this day I have no idea what made me say that. I had never seen doctors at work. I hated hospitals, and I hated doctors even more. Even now in my internship, the sight of blood makes me queasy, and I detest human physical contact.
And yet here I am.
Why am I here, when I could have pursued so many other things careers like arts, singing, journalism or even computer science? As always I have no clue.
All I know, is there is some higher force that made me say I wanted to pursue medicine, the same force that took me to Russia and the same force that made me unconsciously take up blogging.
It may sound mystical to a good skeptical few but this is what I believe. To quote Master Oogway in Kung Fu Panda, "there are no accidents". In spite of how much I cringe going to the hospital as an intern each day, the very fact that I have ended up in the field of medicine is not an accident. There is a purpose. And perhaps not now, but somewhere in the future I will know why. The best thing to do would be to let go, and let life take the course it wishes to take.

Most of my friends know me to be a nervous wreck before and after an examination.
And yet after giving my medical license exam, which has a mere 20% passing rate, I felt strangely calm.
Not because I knew I did well. I thought I performed awfully. But I was calm because I didn't care any more. I knew I had given it my best shot, and frankly the result didn't matter to me anymore. And needless to say I passed.
Its when you stop caring and when you let go, life goes on auto pilot and takes you where you need to be.
As much as all of us, including me, like to be in control of our lives and like to rigorously plan everything, things never turn out the way we intended them to.
So whats the point of it then?
I never planned to go to Russia, and yet I spent six wonderful years there.
I never planned to be a doctor, and yet here I am.
I never planned to take up writing, nor did I plan to stop it.
But I did start writing, and I did stop it as well, for the time being.
No reason. It just happened.
Its only when we realize that our lives are not in our hands, we can be relived of that self appointed responsibility.
Since you have no idea, where you are destined to be, the best you can do is kick back and relax and let life take its course.
And trust life to take you where you need to be.
None of us can pilot our lives. We are just the passengers, who can make simple decisions about whether you want to be seated in the aisle or near the window. The major decision of where you need to be ought to be left to the course of time.
All you need to know, is that you're on autopilot, and you will reach your final destination, sooner or later.
Que Sera Sera!

A Friend In Need

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Mon, 18 Oct 2010 09:51:00 +0000

There are a lot of things in life, which we tend to take for granted. And one of mankind's greatest folly, is that to assume that life shall always remain the same. Nevertheless try as we might, we seldom manage to confront the waves of change that come crashing down upon us, and try as we might to stand our ground, we are swept away, into the abyss of uncertainty.
But as we find ourselves, in a new environment altogether, bewildered and unsure of what life may have in store for us, warm memories of a distant past come flooding by, filling us with hope and a new resolve to overcome whatever life wishes to pit us against.
For me, the beginning of medical internship, was quite unnerving, to say the least.
A new institution, strangers at every nook and corner, the constant feeling of unease and the general perception that all eyes are on you, watching your every move.
The funny thing, is irrespective of how dramatized my perception of life may be, real life is a lot different. No ones looking at you, no one cares, and frankly people are way too busy to care two hoots about what you do or don't do.
I suppose I am one of those whose perception of life is heavily reliant on the people that surround me.
Now when I think about it, I really wonder, what in the name of heaven was I getting so worked up for.

But not too long ago, when I first landed in Russia, things were pretty much the same.
Seemingly hostile glances, the frigid night air which literally sucked away the last dregs of the warm Indian memories I carried with me, coupled the general feeling of unpleasantness that enveloped me like a menacing ominous cloud. The first year in Russia was tough, no doubt. But then, things got better, much better, and by the end of six years I felt at home with the once dreaded country.
But things did not change, on its own.
Things changed, because I met people who helped make my life a lot easier.
In the current generation of social networking, sometimes I feel that the genuine feeling of friendship has been lost somewhere. Where most of your "friends" are those who barely looked at you in high school, or those whom you bumped into at some odd gathering.
The friends I met in Russia, were not vague acquaintances, nor were they random strangers who passed you by in a corridor. They were those, without whom living there would have been nothing short of hellish.
I miss those days the most.
Like I said earlier in the there are some things we take too much for granted, and somewhere I felt that life will always go on the way it is, and we might never part ways.
But part ways we did.
By the force of circumstance.

In my opinion, of all the trivial luxuries one might acquire in life, a good friendship is one of the best luxuries of all.
You must consider yourself most fortunate if you have a buddy or a chum, who listens patiently to your consistent whining, who puts up with you no matter what, waits for you patiently even if its you who are making him/her late and in more simple words, consider yourself most fortunate, if you have a friend, who lets you be you.
A friend who is present during the good times and the bad to lend a shoulder. Someone who wont judge you even if you suddenly burst into song in the middle of a crowded street. Someone who tolerates you in every way possible.
That in reality is the example of the perfect friendship, and that of a perfect friend.
I have had many "friends" in the past, but very few perfect friends.
But at the same time I ought to consider myself fortunate to have experienced such a delightful friendship. But at the same time wonder if ever I shall experience such a luxury again.
The luxury of being myself without the thought of being judged. The ability to be just me in someone else's presence.
A true friendship is one of the most liberating experiences ever. And seldom in life do we get such opportunities.
Such things are meant to be treasured. And rarely do we ever get a chance to realise it.
But like I said, the very experience is rewarding.
I will always be grateful to the moment in my life that led to me to such wonderful people.
And even if we have parted ways, the memories are enough to fill me with hope amidst a strange new place, when the fear of uncertainty begins to engulf me.
A toast to the friend in need,
for being the beacon of light that continues to flood my memories!

PS: I know its been a while since I last blogged, but with the beginning of internship, my laptop's screen getting broken, and massive reconstruction at my home, the last few months have been nothing short of a roller-coaster ride, I'll try to rein in the disarray slowly and steadily!!!.....And try my very best to return to the blogosphere once again!!!

What's The Point Of It All?

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Fri, 02 Jul 2010 08:59:00 +0000

For those who know me, and are close to me, know for a good fact that I am crazy about dogs. Words cannot describe how much I love them, and how much I yearn to have one as a pet. Then again if I ever had a dog, I would probably pamper it to bits. I would make a soft little makeshift bed to sleep on, feed it off the table, play fetch, anticipate it waiting for me eagerly when I got home, and greet me each day by slobbering all over me.
My last dog was a German Shepard named Spooky, and frankly I believe it died of a heartbreak after I left for Russia.
Not a day goes by when I don't think about him. He was one of a kind. He would wait for me to come out of my house and would then act the goat by chasing flies all over, trying to be his comical best.
Now as thing would have it, it has been a year since I returned from my Russian exile, and I yearned to get myself a dog, a Pug this time.
But the answer was a flat, heartless NO!
Or after my constant persistence, my parents replied that they will get me one after I begin my Post Graduation.
Now that in my opinion is a trifle ludicrous.
There is no way I can ever be free if and when I pursue my PG in whichever medical subject I get. Theres no point in getting a dog then, because it'll be a puppy with no one to take care of.
Besides, the best time would have been when I had my vacation, or perhaps before I began internship(which is about to begin quite soon)
So when can I get a dog now?

After PG there'll be marriage, then kids, then career, then before I know it I'll be an old senile grandfather telling his grandchildren about how once I wanted a Pug, but I could never get one.
People say that life is about sacrifice.
If this is what life's going to be like, then what s the point of living. I'll be just existing like a rock forsaking all that I love in the name of "sacrifice" and "acceptance".
I think a great deal of people, use words like acceptance when they are denied the things they love.
So all in all is life just about putting away everything you hold closest to you in the name of a career, family, responsibility, etc?
I suppose an "adult" would reprimand me by saying, "are you crazy? you place a dog before your career"?
But then again, I say, what's the point of it all?
You work putting everything aside for your career, then you work to survive, then you work to provide, and in the grand scheme of things, are you happy? When people accept what they could never get, they call it maturity and being an adult. I call that being a euphemism to being a sore loser.
Did you get the dream job you always wanted? Or your dream car? Or your dream house?
No!
You put them all aside, to survive, to exist.
Not live.

Then what's the point of it all?
Thats not called living. Thats just existing. Just like a goat that exists being helplessly ferried from place to place by the shepherd only to be killed one day by the butcher.
Unlike the birds who truly know what is it to be free.
To soar in the heavens, going where they please. Their lives being truly in their hands.
If you cage a bird, it will twitter constantly yearning to be free, no letting go even one day, because it truly know what freedom is.
Unlike the goat which lies tethered, not making a sound because it does not know what freedom is, and has "accepted" its fate.
A great deal of us live like goats being herded from place to place losing our own free will.
Very few of us are like the birds who like to soar in the sky and will never accept anyone trying to cage them.
I cannot live like a goat.
I cannot just accept everything that comes in my way.
I want to live.
I cannot just put away things that I love just because of the feeble excuse of "that's life."
I always have believed that there is more to life than just existing.
I believe that in life you must work. But not work just because you have to. But work to get the one thing you want a lot. Work for your dreams.
Work for the things that make you happy. And not rest till the time you get what you want, so that there is some purpose to your existence.
Its when existence has a purpose its called a life.
Not otherwise.
A great deal of us just exist. Not live.
I don't picture myself as a grandfather, telling his grandchildren about all the things he wanted but could never get.
I want to be the grandfather who instead would tell his grandchildren, about all the things he wanted and got them in the long run. Thereby encouraging them to do the same.
Philosophers have been deciphering the meaning of life for ages. Some making the prospect of living so complicated that even an astrophysicist might not understand.
But keeping things short, not many know what living is all about.

Its just about being happy, fulfilling your dreams and existing with a purpose.
Ask the birds, and they'll tell you what living is all about.
How they fly wherever their mind takes them, amd how they greet each day with their song, and how blissful they seem in flight, because they know that they are indeed living, for there is nothing before them except the endless blue horizon.
A lot of us get caught in the maelstrom of existence losing out all that we hold dear to ourselves.
And that's because people always accept and never question.
Life has to be questioned constantly. So that you do not delude yourself into thinking that your "sacrifices" are justified.
Question everything.
The reason you do the things you do, the reason you like something or someone and the reason you are who you are.
Life becomes a lot more simple when you question.
And answers always come to those who question.
One must understand the point of being on this earth.
And one cannot understand anything unless until one questions.
If someone tells me I cannot have a dog I will question why?
And I will continue to question till I get one.
Because that's what makes me happy.
I cannot forsake my happiness for anything.
The dog is an example in my case. But that rings true for everyone. When someone tells you you cannot get something, question why? People must learn to live and not exist.
Otherwise what's the point of it all?

Great Expectations

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Thu, 17 Jun 2010 08:05:00 +0000

In the course of time, as busy as we are with our lives, we seldom get to spend time with ourselves and deal with the things that bother and affect us.
I suppose the ability to be introspective, concerns probably those who have a great deal of time on their hands. Since introspection requires solace and solitude, which in today's day and age has turned into quite a rare commodity.
Nevertheless, I on the contrary having been blessed with the gift of time(courtesy my still on going post exam vacation) and at the same time cursed, to not utilise the time given to me judiciously, have ample opportunities, to dive into my subconscious and focus on all the aspects that bother me so.
I cannot mediate, and I never have been able to do so, since time immemorial. Nevertheless, I do go into a strange absent minded trance that does sneak up on the most unexpected of occasions. Be it while driving, or while watching television, or even in a seemingly interesting conversation with someone. Giving the impression to the third party observer as if I'm some sort of retard who continues to stare open mouthed, long after the conversation is over and done with.
Nevertheless, personal observations aside, I suppose I ought do dwell into what I intend to speak about. Introductions have never been my forte, and I tend to beat around the bush trying to come to the topic I wish to speak about. And as a consequence some topics seldom end up being presented the way I "expected" them to.
And here's the deal.
Disappointment following expectation.
Its human nature to expect. Expect favours, expect adoration, expect respect, recognition, gratitude, etc. And its when those expectations fail to meet our set standards, that's when we do get disappointed.
The thing is, all of us have set standards, so as to how our lives ought to turn out. Standards set to determine the value of any given relationship. We tend to measure every aspect with our own scale, and end up disappointed when things seldom meet our expectations.
Not only, do we expect things from circumstance, but we expect things from one another also.
Friends expect constant mutual support, parents expect their children to grow up into paragons of virtue. Children expect support and security from their parents and lovers expect selfless sacrifice from one another.
While for those upon whom fortune has smiled upon, their expectations are met from time to time. But not everyone is that fortunate. Moreover one is often left disappointed on more occasions than one as a consequence.
I am no exception either.
Like all human beings I too expect a great deal from circumstance, and from those whom I believe are close to me. But for reasons beyond my obvious understanding, things have seldom turned out the way I wished them to. Leaving me dejected.

But here's the thing.
Some of the best things in my life have occurred when I least expected them to.
There have been tests I never expected good grades on, and yet scored well. There have been people whom I never looked to for anything, but nevertheless came through, during the most direst moment of my need.
And there have been prayers that were answered when I least expected them to, in the first place.
Just as failed expectations lead to dejection, unexpected incidents of good fortune lead to a great deal of happiness.
On a simpler note, there's a big difference between the happiness from an expected source and the happiness one gets from an unexpected turn of events.
Just like school kids who look forward to the weekend. But their joy is increased manifold when their school is cancelled on a weekday, due to say an unexpected heavy downpour.
Some of the best things in life come unexpected.
When I left for Russia,I never expected to meet friends who will make the six years of my academic life a breeze.
And I never expected them to help me in every which way possible. The experience was completely overwhelming.
I suppose that's how serendipity works.
When things occur when you least expect them.
Expectations are like price tags.
We tend to tag on a price for each and every one of our actions.
Say, "I supported my friend during his time of need, therefore its obvious that he will support me when I need him too", or say "we sacrificed everything for our children, so its obvious that they will do the same for us too."
If every action comes with a price tag of expectations, then I suppose all relationships eventually turn into nothing more than business transactions.
Then what's the point of it all?
Expectations exist. They can never be banished from the subconscious of human thought.
But it depends on how much importance we give to those expectations in the first place. Do we let things off easily, or do we live in a morbid fear and insecurity so as to what will we do when those expectations of ours fails to bear fruit?
Somehow in the long run I have learnt that having too many expectations from human beings is futile. Because lets face it. We are far from perfect. And try as we might, we might never meet the set standards of those who expect things from us.
Therefore, the best things in life is to keep expectations at a bare minimum.
And not turn life into a business transaction.
And if we do wish to do something good for one another, then it ought to be done without the price tag.
Theres no need to subject one another to a barrage of emotional debt.
And if we all realise that in good time, it will make living with one another a lot easier in the long run.
For some of the best things in life come without expectations and without price tags.

Personal Islands

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Wed, 21 Apr 2010 15:21:00 +0000

Back in high school, and even during medical school for that matter, I was always notorious as a student who never paid attention in class. I would spend the long hours during dreadfully boring lectures, engrossed in drawing, or doodling if you may call it, on my notebooks. While on the absolute contrary, my over zealous colleagues, would be scribbling away every word that our professor would utter, irrespective of whether he was making any sense.
Human psychology interests me to a great degree, and being the truly self obsessed person that I am, there hasn't been a day when I have not over scrutinized my self, over every trivial detail.
Now as I look back, the one thing I would constantly draw in my book, were islands.
I was, and am obsessed with them. I would draw islands of various shapes and sizes, make up stories about island kingdoms, and so on and so forth.
I suppose it never occurred to me so as to why I was so obsessed with the concept of an island. But now as I look back and try to comprehend my juvenile leanings, it makes all the more sense.
They say you are what you eat, or in this case what you draw.
Frankly, any creative outburst if I may call it so, is personally a reflection of your inner self. Even the clothes you wear, the food you eat, or the way you arrange and choose furniture can speak volumes about yourself.
And therefore, in retrospect, in my case what reflected me was what I drew.
And that was an island.
Now, what is unique about an island?
I suppose, is its sheer isolation. Apart, aloof and untouched by all and sundry.
Inaccessible, remote and unscathed. Beyond anyone's reach. And surrounded by the vastness of the ocean. Nestled amongst its great waves.
To me an island signifies isolation and security .
And I suppose that's who I really am.
To me, seclusion meant comfort. It meant security from a dozen prying eyes. It meant being by my self. Rather than hobnob with those I had little or no interest in.
I am not a loner though. I made a ton of great friends. And though I claim myself to be anti social, I am quite friendly and approachable by default.
But by the end of the day, I always craved solitude.
To be alone, unwatched and beyond anyone's scrutiny.
Somehow I found it to be more of an ease to be by myself than to be burdened by social obligations. I always have loved being on my own personal island.
Though not meaning to sound pompous, for most of the time, humans have always bored me. I cannot say why. It could be on account of not having any siblings, or the fact that I have more or less lived in hostels and boarding schools for a great deal of time. Either way I have always ended up feeling that no one has truly understood me.
I always detested going to parties and get togethers and make small talk with people I barely know. My first instinct on such occasions, would be bolt away as soon as possible.
There is a reason I like to blend with people I am intimately close to. And that's so I can be myself. A few choice guests on my private island if I do say so myself.

The thing about being on an island is that you are your own master. Its your own world that no one can trespass. No one can question you, or judge you.
Yes, humans are social by default. But than not all of us are born with human instincts.
Given the choice I would rather be on my island than allow any trespassers.
But I have been often reprimanded for that attitude.
Its just that when I meet people, I feel obligated to act and behave in a certain way, so much so that I have ended up putting on so may masks, that even those who claim to know me might not know me at all. When in society, one is always expected to be something what society wants one to be. To be consistently charming, productive, sociable and bendable to their every whim. You spend so much time being someone you'd rather not be, and in consequence lose out on being yourself.
Like Shakespere said, "All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely players"
We don on masks to be identified and sought out, but frankly to me, the more masks you don, the more distant you become from your true self, and lose out on being an individual.
As all things in life, everything comes at an advantage and a disadvantage.
While not everyone can remain secluded, there are times when one ought to be by oneself.
If we let hundreds of people define who you are and what you are meant to do, there may come a time, when you realise, that you have been living someone else's life all along.
I suppose everything needs to exist in a certain balance. Be it seclusion or socialization.
Now when I look back, a lot of artists, thinkers and leaders, were often dubbed to be eccentric. Because they would always appear aloof, babbling to themselves, because, they would prefer their own company rather than be amongst those who could never understand them. They despised influence and were rebels in their own right.
If they had allowed trespassers on their islands, it would have yielded to influence, and the dilution of the individual spirit.
The world then would have never heard of a Picasso, or an Einstein or a Mozart.
I do not wish to don on myself the tag of a genius, but I certainly do brand my self to be individual in my own right. And for the time being I cannot allow anyone to trespass on my land.
I am what I am. And not what someone makes out me to be.
For those who wish to judge me, they shall never get to see the real me. The masks I own are plenty. But I do make it a point to remove them when I am by myself. And retire by the end of the day to my island.
Untouched, unseen and unscathed, far far away.

Image credits: http://www.flickr.com/photos/pixellou, http://www.flickr.com/photos/storm-crypt, http://www.flickr.com/photos/elijah, http://www.flickr.com/photos/todojuanjo, http://www.flickr.com/photos/tomasfano.

Home Is Where The Heart Is

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Thu, 08 Apr 2010 13:02:00 +0000

They say time flies by when you're having fun. Well, if that is to be believed, then I guess I'm having a blast!
Its been seven months since I returned back home. And frankly it only seems like yesterday, when I arrived home from the airport, all puffy eyed, from the overwhelming emotion of parting with my closest friends, and not to mention the utter exhaustion I suffered on account of over 10 hours of air travel.
My parents were overjoyed nevertheless, reuniting with me after a spell of six long years. But throughout the course of my first day of returning back home, I could never partake in their joy, as I wondered desolately so as to how will I suddenly fit in, in the new world suddenly thrust upon me. Its strange actually, when after a long period of time, even familiar faces seem unfamiliar. And your own home seems like foreign ground, where you are unsure, whether or not you belong here.
Thus, through these tempest of emotions, I wondered in apprehension, so as to what course my life shall take.
But if I had only known then, so as to how things will turn up, I doubt I would have fretted so unnecessarily.
As things turned out, I found myself getting used to my home and surroundings much faster than I imagined. And to my utter relief, I actually felt a good sense of belonging.
Gone were my apprehensions and fears, and I felt really good being taken care of by my loving family, finally being able to partake in their joy of my return.
In life, there are many bitter sacrifices to be made, and in the course of things, time really forces you to reconsider, so as to whether the sacrifices you made were indeed worth it.
In the pursuit of my education abroad, I missed my home my family, and my people. Its one thing to say that you have left your family and home to pursue or goals and dreams, and its another thing to live it.
A lot of things in life are easier said than done. And this is one of them.
Dont get me wrong, the six years I spent abroad were the best years of my life. I attribute it to the fact that you develop as a person only when your by your self. But I guess, after accomplishing what you sought to do, its always nice to return home.
In my earlier posts I have ranted about my country, the narrow mindedness of my people, and the dearth of even the most basic human attributes that plague my land. And at the same time, I have heaped praises on St.Petersburg, the surrogate city that took care of me for the amount of time I spent there.
But lets face it, its not home.
You home is the place you live in, amidst all the faults and the issues. But that's what makes it home.
Its like say back home, the wallpapers peeling, the plumbings faulty, and the roof leaks every time it rains. Then on the other hand, you have, say the Ritz hotel. Its a wonderful place to be, with great people, fine food, and a spectacular room.
But irrespective of however long you stay at the Ritz, its not home. You'll always be a guest at the Ritz, and in the due course of time you might even begin to miss the familiar aroma the emanated from the kitchen, or the creaks in the flooring in your hallway.
The same goes for all those who venture abroad. You'll always be a guest. A guest that people may love. But a guest nonetheless.
One needs a home to belong.
As much as I enjoyed every single instance of my stay abroad, I can never really say I belonged there. They were not my people.
Besides, irrespective of how much I tend to criticize my country, I cannot dream of leaving it ever again. The emotional upheaval is far too profound to bear. To constantly uproot yourself from one place to another.
Back in India, after I cleared my rather gruelling exam, I realised that I wouldn't have made it without the support of my family. People who made things so much easier for me to bear.
When you're by your self , there is no support system to aid you in your time of need.
Back home there is.
People may brag about how their homes an awful place to be, or how they feel suffocated amidst their family. If that is indeed so, then its a pity.
Its easy to escape your people saying they're difficult, or impossible to live with. But if that's how you feel about relationships, you might one day pretty much end up alone.
Every relationship is tough. But that's where you need to work on them and make it successful.
My parents might not agree with everything I say or do, but that doesn't stop me from reinforcing my point of view. We have maddening arguments, and terrific fights. But by the end of the day we're family, and alls well again. Not once have I thought that, "God these people are crazy, I can't live here any more."
Its letting go of small squabbles and being able to live with one another in a home as a family defines you as being human.
It wont take even a moment hesitation to pack my bags, leave home, live abroad and settle in a comfortable clean country.
But I'm done being a guest.
And irrespective of the shortcomings in my country, its home. For the better or for the worse.
As Dorothy said in the Wizard of Oz, "there's no place like home"!PS: The photos you see above, are some random shots of my home. A personal touch kind of thing!!

Alls Well That Ends Well

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Thu, 01 Apr 2010 11:07:00 +0000

Its been a while since I last posted on my blog, and frankly I cannot express in mere words how glad I am to be writing this post, after such a long hiatus.
For all who were aware, and for those who weren't, the reason for my self imposed exile from my blog, was due to the fact that I was studying for a really important medical examination, back home in India. An exam that grants recognition to foreign degrees, and makes us eligible to practice here in India. A license exam if you may call it so.
Now frankly, the exam is quite gruelling by itself, and by no means child's play. It was nevertheless imperative I give the exam, otherwise, without the recognition, a foreign graduate is pretty much stuck in limbo without any official recognition whatsoever.
Ever since I returned to India, there has been no other thought more paramount in my mind than to clear the examination as soon as possible. Especially after hearing horror stories, of those who kept trying and trying for years without success, and finally losing nearly three to four years, or perhaps even more of their precious time, and eventually jeopardizing their medical career.
On another front, most of my friends opted to join what are known as "coaching classes", to clear the exam. Its a common practice here in India, whereas au contraire I chose not to.
My friends were flabbergasted, and were quite curt in telling me that without those "miraculous" classes I stood little chance of passing. I have always found it so, that in life a lot of people are more prompt in telling you what you cannot do, rather than what you can do.
Nevertheless, undeterred, and not falling prey to the hype the classes generate, I chose to remain home and study for the exam by myself.
Besides, I have always been the sort of person that seldom pays attention in class anyway. I was always busy doodling while the professor went on an on rendering his rather insipid lecture.
Needless, to say I sacrificed a great deal while studying. I missed writing, painting, and frankly it has been over a year since I ventured into a movie theatre.
And all through, I had this morbid dread so as to whether or not my efforts would bear fruit, and whether or not my friends prediction of a certain doom, that awaited those who chose not to attend classes would come true.
For if I did not clear this time, I could see myself spiralling into gloom, and possibly towards a realm of self pity and bitter remorse. From which I doubt I would have ever been able to recover the strength to fight the battle yet again.
But by the grace of good fortune, and Divine intervention, I managed to clear the exam with flying colours, being amongst the 20% of the students who passed altogether.
It was while travelling back to the airport that I realised in disbelief, while checking the results of the exam online on my cell phone, that I had cleared the exam, and was now free.
Emotions of relief, gratification and happiness beyond words came flooding back, and while through all this I realised I was rather hungry, and ordered myself a scrumptious breakfast in the airport lobby, awaiting my flight back home.
And while munching on my baked beans on toast came the flood of congratulatory phone calls from my near and dear ones. All glad that we had passed one of the most dreaded exams ever.
What awaits me now is a three month break, during which I intend to selfishly indulge myself in all that I missed during the long hours pouring over medical literature. After which shall begin my internship in a hospital nearby.
The moral of the story is, that it takes great perseverance in trudging along a path most humans would rather avoid. And when someone usually dissuades you from perusing the path you choose, its not that they are concerned about you, but the fact that they wish to trust upon their own personal insecurity upon you.
Besides, the exam has had a more profound personal victory rather than just an academic one.
The personal victory being the fact that if I could pull this through, there's precious little that can stand in my way in the future.
The same lesson goes for everyone else as well.
Never let fellow humans tell you what you can or cannot do. Insecure beings can never support one another. Their refuge lies in mutual despair.
The day you begin to have faith in yourself and the path you have chosen, would be the day you will most certainly be declared a victor.
For only after trudging relentlessly through the road less travelled, one can truly say,
Alls well that ends well.

The Bloggers Void

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Sun, 03 Jan 2010 15:46:00 +0000

One of the things most bloggers face in the due course of their blogging history is the bloggers void. Aptly put by Shadowthrone.
The thing is, no matter how much ever dedicated we are to blogging, after some time or the other, you lose the ability to stay focussed on your blog. It could be due to a number of reasons. Like for instance, the lack of inspiration, the lack of sheer will, an unforeseen circumstance etcetera.
Even I for instance find it really difficult to maintain my blog since I graduated.
The thing is, things were a lot different from the world I once belonged to, and the world I'm currently in.
While those who believe in sheer will, would argue, nothing should "ideally" come between a man and his passion. But as I have often stated, circumstances are seldom "ideal".
While I do not write this as a means to justify or complain about the reason for my absence from the bloggosphere, I nevertheless, feel it necessary to elaborate on my persistent absence.
The thing is, things were a lot different back in Petersburg. I wouldn't say I had all the time in the world, but nevertheless, I could always do whatever I want, whenever I want.
I would write, whenever impulse would strike me, be it 12 noon or 3 in the morning.
The thing about impulse, is that its like a spark that comes and goes. You cannot schedule or postpone an impulse for later.
The thought you have today, may not remain the same tomorrow.
And that's the main difference.
Right now, while studying for a major examination, my life is far more scheduled than it was before. I'm not complaining though, because, I have been reunited with family after a span of six long years.
But the thing is, there is always going to be a difference between a single students life and the life of a family guy. Things cannot always be carefree, and I most certainly cannot blog on impulse here.
Now I could say, that I would schedule time to blog every Sunday from 8 to 9 pm.
But it can never work out that way.
At least not for me. Like I said, I cannot schedule thoughts. For instance, say I'm reading the newspaper and I come across an interesting article, and I say to myself "I really ought to voice my opinion on this article", but then I cannot because I have to hit the gym, after which I have to start studying, following which by the end of the day, when I am actually free, so to speak, I no longer am able recapitulate the idea I had back in the morning. Even now as I write this, I'm actually supposed to be solving questions in Pharmacology. Not exactly writing this on my "free time" here.

There hasn't been one day that went by where I haven't thought, "damn!! I really miss writing."
But then again, there's precious little I can do about it.
All I can say right now, is that I will try to keep things afloat to the best of my ability.
But I cannot promise anything more.
Besides, a lot of people from my own blogging network seemed to have permanently dropped off the bloggosphere, without any explanation.
I really envy persistent bloggers, people who have continued to blog come what may, like brocasarea, Shadowthrone, Thousif, and Lazy Pineapple to name a few.
Most bloggers end up in the void sooner or later, while others manage to stick through with persistence.
But every individual has his/her own means of working.
Like I said, there are like a ton of things I would love to do, right from blogging, adopting a dog, to learning how to make a pizza.
But then again, given the circumstance, such things must wait...
No idea how much longer is it going to take......
but until then,
be patient and bear with my inconsistencies, s'il vous plait...
till I manage to figure things out.....

The Pursuit Of Happiness

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Thu, 12 Nov 2009 06:15:00 +0000

Often in some point of our lives we find ourselves in the doldrums. Some part of the day, when all we want to do is crawl up into a small hole and lie there for for days to come. When in spite of the sunny day outside there lies within us, a dark tempest of gloom.
Sometimes the reason we remain shrivelled up inside is perhaps because of some sort of unfortunate circumstance, that has has suddenly come upon us. But nevertheless, circumstances not withstanding, the major reason of our doldrums are we ourselves.
We all know of the examples of the eternal optimist or the eternal pessimist. Or psychologically speaking, the notion of whether the glass is half full or half empty.
As much as we like to read and try to understand the reason for all that has transpired around us, we seem to be getting no where most of the time. By the end of the day we are back to square one.
Frankly I am no exception as far as dealing with difficult circumstances are concerned.
After some setback or the other, my first impulse is to crawl into some hole and stay there for eternity, shunning everyone and everything that comes in my way.
Irrespective of the amount of advice doled out by those around you, there are some things in life you can only understand form your own personal experience.
I in my own way managed to acquire an epiphany in this regard, when I recapitulated some of my past events.
Back in medical school, we would have weekly tests. And once during one of these test sessions I acquired a rather poor grade. Almost immediately I subjected myself to self criticism, guilt, and mental torture for not acquiring better grades. But next to me, a friend of mine who got rather poor grades himself, was laughing away gaily, chatting with his buddies, unmindful of the fact that he too performed rather poorly in the test.
This nevertheless, left me a bit flabbergasted wondering how in God's name could someone be so unmindful of what just happened.
Back then I didn't have the maturity to fully grasp how could someone take disappointment so lightly.
But now as I recollect, I realise that he didn't really feel disappointed in the first place. And as a consequence he was happy.
He was happy when he flunked, and he would obviously have been happy had he passed.
The "condition" of passing and failing thus remained immaterial to his state of mind.
The key words here are "condition" and "state of mind".
Thus any pure state of mind is usually unconditional.
Be it happiness or sorrow.
Circumstances and events however usually end up as a catalyst in enhancing our state of mind.
If your state of mind was happy from the beginning a good event would make you joyous, while a bad event would make you unmindful and nonchalant to what just transpired, thus the core state of mind being the same in the first place.
However if your state of mind was sad to begin with, a good circumstance will temporarily lighten up your day, while a bad circumstance will further push you to the brink of eternal despair.
All in all circumstance has precious little to do with our state of mind.
People always have pre set conditions to determine how they are going to feel with regard to favourable or unfavourable events. Like, "If I win the game I will be happy, or "if I lose my job I will be sad".
We end up miserable when we set too many conditions upon ourselves when we set out to pursue happiness. Only to end up disappointed when happiness remains ever elusive.
From what I have understood so far from all that around me, is that happiness isn't something that has to be pursued, but a pure self limiting entity that ought be realised as a part of us. Unconditional and uncompromising even in the most difficult of circumstance.
We have often heard examples of rich celebrities who are miserable despite every comfort money can buy. And we have also seen poor workmen who labour day in and day out, with a smile on their lips whistling a happy tune while they toil away in the scorching summer.
I suppose the day we stop imposing conditions upon us, we will truly be happy.
Until then it is pointless to remain in a relentless pursuit of something that will continue to evade us through and through.
There is no point in pursuing something that remains within us waiting to be discovered.
For happiness like all pure emotions is nothing but a state of mind, inert and unconditional.
Pre set conditions do not necessarily determine how we will feel, as long as our state of mind remains happy irrespective of the circumstances that surround us.
The pursuit of happiness is nothing but a myth, to dissuade us from feeling better about ourselves irrespective of the way things turn out.
Some myths in life are thus indeed worth shattering.

Of Snoots And Snobs

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Sat, 03 Oct 2009 15:01:00 +0000

I suppose a great deal of people have fond memories of their senior school days. What we call 11th and 12th grade. Well as for me, the experience was far from memorable. My class consisted mainly of some of the most snooty people one could have ever come across. You know, the sort who behave as though they have gold mines shoved under their affluent noses.
Now given the fact that I do not belong to the dull and dreary sort of humanity myself, nevertheless, being amidst those who believed that the very ground beneath them is a tribute to their greatness (or their dad's) made me grow immensely weary of their very existence. Not that I could do much about it though. For then, I believe I was a part of the wrong flock in the first place.
When I left India to pursue medicine, I met some of the most refreshingly down to earth people, on the planet. And not just from my own country, but also from other nations as well.
Their very existence was like a breath of fresh air. Somewhere down the line I had actually given up on the hope that I shall ever meet 'normal' people.
But there I was, hobnobbing with some of the most earthy individuals ever.
Well, we did run into some snobs as well, but they were the sort who realized that they were amongst the wrong people for a change. Needless to say, over the years they did manage to tone down their act. It was either that or face the prospect of being friendless in a foreign country.
Not that I am a saint myself per se. I do at times like to flaunt what ever assets I manage to acquire, that money can buy. But nevertheless, I do know where to draw the line.
Everyone likes to show off a bit, but not to the point where it gets awfully ghastly and annoying to boot.
I just simply do not understand what their deal is.
Frankly, one would usually find conversations with a snob/snoot unidirectional, and rather tiresome, with not an iota of sense intertwined in between their barrage of self praiseworthy drivel.
For instance, " You know, I am the head of my very own company, I work out with the actor(read nondescript) who acted in the film(which flopped miserably) blah blah. In my spare time I model for a famous brand of toothpaste and spend my evenings in one of the most swanky (read unheard of) clubs in the city."
The thing is, I really wonder the sort of audience our snooty compatriots manage to acquire in order to vent out their barrage of hot air. Frankly, any snob bombarding me with their self centred nonsense will soon realise that they are barking up the wrong tree.
You know, whenever one picks up one of the gossip magazines, one cant help coming across the glaring photographs of "socialites" wearing outfits that can only be described as a cross between a child's Halloween costume and a Las Vegas drag queen, at a "charity" event. Probably to raise money for the mentally unsound.
Sooner or later all snobs metamorphosize into socialites. I really wonder what sort of lives such people live in their spare time, when they are not busy hogging the limelight at a so and so social event.
Man is a social animal no doubt, and one needs society to exist. Nevertheless, I really wonder when did society turn to encompass some of the most unheard of has beens, and yesteryear washouts all simultaneously blowing their own trumpets.
Call me an idealist, but there did exist a time when the crème de la crème of society consisted of intellectuals, philosophers, men of art (by art I mean musicians, authors and painters, not someone who recently stripped their clothes off in a third rate movie), and self made men of commerce.
I suppose birds of a feather do flock together. But of late its a rather foul flock.
I can never come to terms with some god awful snob giving me airs. And frankly it gives me great pleasure give them a taste of their own medicine.
Irrespective of what one might say, I'd rather spend my time with my own earthly flock than to bother with some tiresome snoot.
But by the end of the day, its those who are down to earth who manage to win over more people. Not the ones who think their boots are too big for the ground beneath them.
Its too bad that they do not realize that.
But everyone has their place in the world.
If it weren't for them we certainly wont be having a lark over reading about their latest misadventures.
Well, to each of his own I always say!

Respite......

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Tue, 29 Sep 2009 16:27:00 +0000

Its been nearly two months since I last posted anything on my blog. After spending nearly all my time and energy buried beneath a ton of books, lets just say the effort did not go all to waste. A great deal of thanks to all my blogging buddies who wished me well during my exams.
Nevertheless, since a medical student's (read foreign graduate) work is never done, I have yet another exam coming up after six months or so....
But in the mean time, I have decided that I needed a much desired respite.
While I spent huddled upstairs raking my brains through a barrage of medical literature, I must say I really missed blogging. There wasn't a moment when I didn't think of my blogging buddies. As a consequence, I had an epiphany.
When you commit yourself to a certain goal, you tend to lose out on all that which brought you joy at one part of time. For instance, by the end of two months, I gave up on my writing, my painting, and the utter lack of exercise has turned me into an inflatable pool toy.
I ought to have balanced both the worlds of creativity and academia, to bring about a harmony of sorts.
Now that I have a good couple of months till my next exam, I have decided that I am going to balance both worlds.
There is no point in living one life while forsaking the other.
I suppose certain realizations are never too late.
Of the most paramount of things on my list apart from studying, include:

Hitting the gym
Learn how to drive
Continue writing.

I suppose life will keep hurling responsibilities at you, but its up to you to never lose sight of your own individual needs in the long run. Else there wont be much of a difference between you and a herd of cattle. There's no point in herding yourself from pillar to post and losing out on your interests in the long run.
In the future, I have no intention of forsaking the things I am most passionate about. For what is life, without having a few perks for yourself?
I'm sure I can balance both worlds in the long run.
I have so much to say and so much to write about, I do not even know where to begin with. All that pent up creativity will certainly yield enough material to blog about for the next few weeks.
All in all, I'm glad I got the opportunity to rethink the way I handle things.
Rest assured this blog shant run dry any more....
Bye for now, but in the words of the Terminator, "I'll Be Back"!!!

International Blogger's Community Award!

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Tue, 14 Jul 2009 14:53:00 +0000

Now Rads, of the Rads-blog-a-Zine fame has awarded me the International bloggers community award, and to her I say, Merci Beau-coup Mademoiselle...
And as tradition, I am carrying forward the tradition of awarding it to my blogging buddies, who I personally feel deserve this award!!

By the way, Rads in her site has jotted down a list of rules, concerning this award, which I will display here...
They are,

Link the person who tagged you
Copy the image above, the rules and the questionnaire in this post
Post this in one or all of your blogs
Answer the four questions following these Rules
Recruit at least seven (7) friends on your Blog Roll by sharing this with them
Come back to BLoGGiSTa iNFo CoRNeR (PLEASE DO NOT CHANGE THIS LINK) at http://bloggistame.blogspot.com/ and leave the URL of your Post in order for you/your Blog to be added to the Master List
Have Fun!

The questions with my answers:

The person who tagged you: Rads
His/her site's title and url: Rads Blog-a-Zine: http://rads-blogazine.blogspot.com
Date when you were tagged: 7th July, 2009
Persons you tagged: I tag the following...

Kaddu
Kadambari
Ramya
Choco
Shadowthrone
et
Mukund
Varun
Lazy Pineapple
Gayathri
Brocasarea
Thousif
Vani
Sandhya
Acp
Viyoma
Today's Writer
Quirks of Sanity
SSQuO.

PS: As an update on the on goings of my life, I have finally returned to India. As a medical graduate. Now I have to study for a couple of months for a rather important exam.The aim of the exam is to enable me to begin practice in India. Kind of like a licensing exam. Once I clear it, I'll be free (for a short while at least), but until then I might not be as regular in the blogosphere.
Besides the internet in my city has abysmal speed, and I'll have to install a broadband connection to do some decent surfing. The blogger page took ages to load!! I'll have to install one of those high speed broadband connections soon, but after my exams.
Newayz...that's the news from my side...wish me luck (I'll really need it) to clear my exam.
Till then, to all my blogging buddies, take care and God bless.
Au revoir for now...

An Ode To A City

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Fri, 03 Jul 2009 12:55:00 +0000

I usually do not write much about myself, but nevertheless, the past few days have been quite a milestone in my life. For I have finally graduated. And hold the degree, Doctor of Medicine. I never thought the day would come. For it always seemed so distant. And as a consequence, I have forever remained in the illusion that time shall forever remain still, and I shall be a carefree student in one of the most beautiful cities in the world forever. But I suppose as we all know, time is one stealthy entity.

It manages to delude you till the end of days, and when you least expect it, the carefree days of your youth are curtailed in one sharp stroke. Like the swift blade of the guillotine, your time as a youth are struck off, and immediately one is thrust unprepared, into the realm of adulthood.
The emotions that ravage my mind like a wayward ship stuck in a tempest, have me at extreme ends of human emotion.

One one hand, there is the joy of graduation, the happiness and the jubilation, while on the other hand there lies the bitter sorrow and anguish of parting forever with ones close friends, who have been by my side for the past six years.
Perhaps a third person observer may not be able to comprehend what exactly I am going through, and frankly I cannot expect him/her to understand the pathos when one leaves the place he has been so well accustomed to.

I owe a great deal to this fair city. One can always be proud of their home city, but this city has been somewhat like a surrogate parent to me for the past six years. St.Petersburg is a marvellous city. Mere words cannot describe it. For, of all the places in the world, this is one of the few places, that has stayed back in time, retaining its beautiful palaces, museums, gardens and streets. It doesn't have the snooty air of the common metropolitan cities across the world which are towering with concrete skyscrapers and awfully polluted streets.

Even now the city retains its historic charm from the times of the Tsar, like a time capsule which has not succumbed to the sort of riff-raff the modern cities today possess.
I have been very fortunate indeed to live and study in this city.
From the pristine and pure white snowy cover of winter to the bright, white nights of summer (when sun doesn't completely set) the city retains its magnificent glory, throughout the year.
The photos posted here have been taken by yours truly, and his friends, while touring the city and during our nocturnal boat ride on the day of our graduation.

The city is best explored when one walks down its streets. Its not the sort of place that can be relished when one is in a noisy motor vehicle. One has to walk down its streets to get an actual idea of the city. Passing by numerous portrait makers, souvenir stalls, etc.

Moreover, like Venice, this city too is interconnected by numerous canals, through which one can see the architectural magnificence of the place.

Words truly cannot do justice nor describe this place. One has to actually come by here and walk about the place. Besides every street is so spectacular, your camera wont have a moments relief.
Walking the city for the past six years has made more familiar with this it. I know the roads, byways and alleys of this city by now, far better than my home city back in India.
This is one place I sincerely recommend everyone to visit at least once in their life time. And moreover at least spend a week here to absorb the beauty and feel the romance of a city preserved in time, through the ages.

It has been six years since I came here, as a scared, shy 18 year old, and now when it is finally time for me to leave this city for good, my home for the past few years, I am indeed at a loss for words. The city, my close friends shall all soon be left behind, and my stay here will be nothing more than a memory. Though many may philosophically put it, "It happens, life's like that", I do not think that those so called philosophers can possibly comprehend what I am going through right now.
And I do not expect them to understand either.

Dasvidanya, fair city. For perhaps our paths shall cross once again. But till then I bid thee a fond farewell.
For you shall be in my heart forever.

A Tribute To Eccentricity

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Fri, 26 Jun 2009 19:46:00 +0000

I suppose by now all of us are well aware of the passing away of Michael Jackson. Frankly, I suppose this has been by so far one of the most read and sought after news articles that has gripped people from across the world.
Now frankly what has captivated me by far, is not the musical genius of Michael Jackson, but the ability to reach across to millions of people across the globe. I doubt there exists even a single nation, whose occupants would not recognise him. There are very few people who manage to evoke such a powerful response to either their talent or their works of other nature. I do not call him a genius merely on account of the number of records he sold or the number of Grammies he won. But I call him a genius on account of the faithful adoration he received from millions of his fans till the end of his days. Its not everybody who can please a crowd of such stupendous proportions.
I hope the media who spent hounding him for the past decade accusing him of being an embezzler, a pervert or even a freak would finally acknowledge his true genius and give him due credit.

Truth be told, I have never been particularly passionate about his music. For neither did I follow his career in earnest, nor did I listen to every song churned out by him. Personally, for me the person in particular, interested me more than anything else.
It really makes me wonder so as to what makes such a person tick. What is it that makes a person become the legend he/she is and the sort of lives such people in question lead.

People in the later years considered him to be a freak. Waco Jacko they would call him. For in the eyes of the common strata of society, he perhaps was indeed a freak. A freak they could never understand, a freak that was almost always misunderstood, a freak that could never be at par with the sort of insipid society that sought to surround him.

Thats the trouble with genius. Your mind will never be at par with all and sundry. It can never belong to the same wavelength of the common folk that exist around you. To them, your ideas will always remain insane, and your perceptions of reality will always seem ridiculous.
As a genius you will always remain alone, forlorn to the extent that even those close to you will never be able to understand you.
But these are the very individuals, that revolutionise the world as we know it. These are the same people who rake up a storm and seek to banish the sort of monotony one exists in. These eccentric "freaks" are the ones who are responsible for making our lives feel all the more worthwhile.

Michael Jackson's life reminds me of a similar individual, called Howard Hughes.A man who revolutionised the aviation industry. His story is depicted in the film 'The Aviator', by Martin Scorcese.

Known to develop one of the most sophisticated aircraft back in the day, he too in his later years was known to be a reclusive freak, who lived a life of eccentric proportions. Similarly hounded by the media, and accused of embezzling millions of dollars, he lived a life quite similar to most of the misunderstood geniuses we know today.
Seclusion I suppose is the only refuge such people have, to get away from the contemporary world that they all belong to. For they can never be understood. Their fears and delusions in their later years become the source of mockery for the very society that once benefited from their contributions.
I have never been fond of contemporary society. For while you are at your prime, you are their patron and their messiah. But once circumstance takes a turn for the worse, you turn into a freak, to be ridiculed and mocked at, like a common ape in a zoo.

Just like the indignity suffered by the celebrated author, Oscar Wilde in the later period of his days.
Even Queen Elizabeth I who heralded the golden age of England, spent most of her remaining years as a misunderstood senile recluse, much to the merriment of her subjects.

No one can understand genius. For the thoughts and emotions that run through their minds have very little in common with the remainder of society.
Their lives usually end up alone and solitary. In spite of all they have managed to contribute to society. A precious few can actually comprehend what runs in the minds of these eccentric individuals.
And yet you have to hand it to them, as they struggle to overcome the differences and manage to win the hearts of those around them.
They are a different race by themselves. The sort of people who seek to enrich the lives of those around them, while in return forsaking their own.
All in all, I would like to raise a toast to all the misunderstood geniuses around the world and across the ages. It takes a great deal of perseverance and fortitude to live the sort of lives they live. And as fellow humans it is only fair that they are granted the credit they truly deserve.
For one may never understand them. But at least one can acknowledge them for their works, overlooking their flaws.
For its the only fitting tribute to genius and eccentricity, which sets them apart from others in the grand scheme of things.

Of Race And Men

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Wed, 03 Jun 2009 19:21:00 +0000

Theres a great deal of hullabaloo going on about the racist attacks in Australia. After the general elections, the Indian media seems to be going whole hog on the latest scoop, which I suppose should give them enough material for at least a week.
Given the so called plight of our dear countrymen in Australia, I cannot help dishing out some of my own experiences in a foreign country (read Russia) for the past six years.
Now, for those who are not aware, Russia and not to mention a good deal of Europe, have their own fair share of racist episodes.
It only seems like yesterday, when I was studying for a debt in Anatomy, my neighbour came running, huffing and puffing to my room and told me that a young Vietnamese student has been killed just a bit of a distance from our hostel. It was around 9 pm at that time, and immediately a good deal of Indians (from my hostel), Africans, Sri Lankans and of course the Vietnamese students rallied together in protest at the lack of security and the so called racial atrocity against the foreign students (the Chinese were conspicuously absent throughout the whole deal).
Did that incident horrify me? Was I appalled, angry, horrified or for that matter scared at the fact that foreigners can be attacked any time at the drop of a hat?
Frankly..not even the least.
All I bothered about was, how am I going to find time to clear my debts in Anatomy.

Nothing more.
While I did spend all night on the streets protesting against racist groups, in a gesture of solidarity to our Vietnamese colleagues, the incident by itself was not of any life changing consequence.
Now as far as the Vietnamese boy who was killed is concerned, he belonged to another university, and decided to visit his friends in my hostel for a birthday party.
Afterwards he decided to head back home, and chose to venture through an unlighted dark short cut instead of going through a bright nicely lit road which would have taken 2 minutes more of his walking time.
And, needless to say that's where he was ambushed and killed by Skin heads (a radical anti Semitic Neo Nazi group).

In my opinion, its always easy to fume and grunt when you hear, that some Indians in so and so country have been racially abused or targeted. But one ought to know how such incidents take place and how we foreigners ourselves are responsible when we end up as targets.

In my six years of stay in this country, I have hardly come across racial undertones. The Russians, if you get to know them, are quite a friendly race. And for some strange reason, they really like Indians.Especially the elder generation. The minute they hear, that you're from India, they begin talking about how much they like Indian culture, about Raj Kapoor (the only Indian actor they know) and of the film Awara. Not to mention their weird fascination for the song "Jimmy Jimmy Aja Aja" filmed on Mithun Chakraborty.
Whenever we have visited the patients ward, the Russian grandmas always wished us all the best for our future and asked us to study hard in order to be a good doctor.

Either way, I cannot deem them racist or prejudiced.
Yes there are groups of people (read Skinheads) out to create trouble, and over the past few years, two Indian students have even been killed in Petersburg (strangely neither the Indian media nor the government cared two pence about the incident) .
But in my opinion its about being at the wrong place at the wrong time.

When as a foreigner, you decide to visit, or stay in any country, you need to have some knowledge about the place you are about to visit, the nature of the people living in the so called country and a respect for the local cultures and traditions.
I knew about the Skin head problem, even before I came to study here. So frankly it wasn't a rude shock to me. The Indians here on the contrary were the real shock.
All foreign countries carry a risk.
Its up to you to be careful and safe guard you assets when you move about in an unfamiliar surroundings.
Even India isn't that safe.
One keeps hearing of American, German or Russian tourists being swindled, abused and even killed by the locals.
I once met a Russian woman at the Mumbai airport, who couldn't speak English, she obviously didn't know Hindi, and the only currency she had were Roubles. And she didn't know anyone in India either. Fortunately my friend helped her reach a currency exchange and managed to drop her off at a decent hotel.
But just imagine, if she had fallen into the hands of a greedy cab driver. One can very well imagine the consequences.
Its people like these who fall prey to all sorts of hoodlums, because of their own stupidity.

In spite of knowing well about the Skin head situation, in Russia, you have Indian students roaming out alone in the late hours when the streets are deserted, and hitting pubs and discos in unheard of places.
And sometimes I believe they deserve what's coming to them. I have heard of cases of Indians here who act the goat in discos and ogle at the Russian girls as though they have never seen a female in their entire lives. As a consequence they tend to get drunk, misbehave and end up with a black eye, blaming the "racist" Russians.

I an not naive to say that racism does not exist. It very well does. But sometimes, racist "incidents" can be avoided if one is careful enough.
As long as you happen to be a foreigner, one must always be humble, respectful and decent in your mannerisms and behaviour when you are in a foreign country.
This rule applies to even those who visit India. You cannot roam about as if you own the place. You are then bound to attract trouble.
No country is without its share of issues. Even the United States which finally has a Black President, is still plagued by racist attacks in certain areas.
Therefore even though the news of racist incidents are unfortunate, they can at times be avoided.
It finally boils down to the individual to be careful in a foreign country, and be responsible for his/her own safety.
For as we all know, when in Rome....

Image Credits: http://www.flickr.com/photos/thivierr, http://www.flickr.com/photos/mahidoodi, http://www.flickr.com/photos/thivierr.

PS: Since my final Russian State Exams are around the corner, excusez moi from the blogosphere. Hence I shan't be able to post anything new for a while.

The Stuff That Dreams Are Made Of

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Sun, 24 May 2009 12:04:00 +0000

I suppose a significant few of you would have heard of the name Susan Boyle. For those who haven't she is a Scottish singer who received general attention, when she first appeared in the show, Britain's got talent. Now the thing that set her apart from all the usual sort of people you see on television, is that the first impression you get is nothing particularly remarkable.
When she first appeared on the show, the public as well as the judges, sort of looked upon her as a bit of a joke. They saw a 47 year old woman, who was not remarkable in her looks or in her demeanour, someone who seemed cheeky enough to have the audacity to come and participate in a well known television show.
Well, nevertheless, the judges expecting to chuck her out the minute she would sing, asked her to go ahead.
The song she sang was, "I dreamed a dream" from Les Misérables. And frankly, her rendition took the crowds by storm.
So much so, that by the end of her performance, she received a standing ovation.
Now, before she had sung the song, one of the judges, Simon Cowell, asked her, what's the dream? And she answered "I'm trying to be a professional singer". Now, on being asked why she hasn't been successful so far, she said that she never had the opportunity. And furthermore, she hoped to be as famous as Eileen Paige(a famous English singer) . Now, this earned her a couple of guffaws from the audience, and raised eyebrows from the judges.
Nevertheless, the minute she started singing, all the smirks from the audience were soon replaced by a look of awe.
And the rest is history.
Last I heard, she has been awarded a music contract from Sony music, and is well on her way to fame and stardom.
I have a lot of adoration for the woman, who in spite of the hostility from the audience, managed to win their hearts by the end. Its like something out of the books and novels.
In life, such incidents really inspire you and make you think that there is nothing out there which is impossible.
The thing is, I can completely relate to her.
It is not uncommon, for people to put you down, snub you, or discourage you, when you speak to them, of your dreams, your ambitions or your innermost wishes.
People have a way to put each other down, and make the other person feel worthless, or like some sort of insignificant insect.

It takes a great deal of courage and self confidence, to brace yourself to all the smirks and the guffaws that will follow you when you set out to achieve your goals.
I don't know why humans keep underestimating one another. Perhaps its the result of their own cowardice, or their own insecurity.
But all in all you have teachers telling children that they are stupid and thoroughly incompetent. You have "friends" who smirk when you tell them what you want to do with your life.
Unfortunately sometimes, even parents can end up discouraging their children.
The biggest joke is, when Einstein was a child, his school teachers thought him to be "dull" and unable to learn things.
We all know then who had the last laugh.

People have told me all sorts of things, through school and collage.
Even now, when I tell some of my "friends" that I want be a specialist in so and so field, I cant help notice the judgemental look, which reads "are you kidding me"?
Like I said, humans seem to get some sort of pleasure in putting each other down.
The thing is, like Susan, I suppose the best thing to do, is to wear your best smile, and look nonchalantly at your judging audience.
They will eat their words in due time anyway.
Its very rare to have people genuinely encourage you, when you set out to live your dream.
Some of us are fortunate in that aspect when our friends or family are happy for you, and egg you own to do your very best.
But for the remainder, the best thing to do will be to hold your head high, and not care a damn about those who keep putting you down.

All of us have a right to live our dreams. But its just our own inner fears and insecurities that keep us from achieving them.
It really gets my goat, when people underestimate me. And frankly many a time I have as a consequence, felt discouraged and forlorn. But I have in time learned to make peace with the fact that I don't have to give a damn about what people think.
Its up to us to prove the world wrong and have the last laugh. And making all the people who once called you stupid, ugly, or just plain dumb, eat their own words.
The worlds one big huge reality show by itself. And frankly one needn't be perturbed by a cynical and narrow minded audience.
You know that you have got it in you, and that's what counts.
For its the sort of stuff that dreams are made of.

Image credits: http://www.flickr.com/photos/swamibu, http://www.flickr.com/photos/estherase, http://www.flickr.com/photos/curoninja.

Petrified!

noreply@blogger.com (Vyazz) — Wed, 20 May 2009 18:08:00 +0000

The purpose of having a blog are numerous. Some use it to convey what they feel, while some use it to spread some sort of social message. A good number of people use it as a medium to sharpen their writing skills, while a good remainder of people use it to rant out their grudges against life and the society they live in.
Today, I have nothing particularly to convey, nor am I exactly in the mood for personal introspection. On the contrary, as the title says, I am currently within the grasp of absolute petrification.
Within a month and a half, I am going to come across a very major milestone in my life. And that is graduation after six years of medical school!
Perhaps at this moment I ought to sound solemn and confidant, as I look to the future with the resolute calm and ease that would manifest perhaps in an individual who is certain of his prospects.
But I am not that person!
And for a fact I know that life is anything but certain.
On the absolute contrary, I am terrified of the future prospects, and constantly am kindling new and unimagined thoughts that manifest themselves as constant anxiety and nocturnal tachycardia.
Man throughout history has either been curious or fearful of the unknown.
Moreover one always seeks refuge in things that are always meant to be certain and consistent. When one knows what to expect, it usually prepares a person mentally to face whatever that is out in store for them!!
Au contraire, when you feel like in course of your life, you are about to enter a deep dark tunnel, where you have no idea so as to what to expect at the other end, it can be a good deal frightening to a significant few.
I do not have the curiosity and the spirit of adventure, of the sort that perhaps would exist in Indiana Jones, in order to abandon all thoughts of insecurity, and fearlessly jump into the abyss, gliding with ease as to be prepared for whatever lies out there.
The very thought makes me ill at ease.
So far, for the past six years, it has always been the same routine. Ten months of classes, followed by two months of vacation, and the cycle would go on and on.
But now everything is finally going to grind to a standstill.
As human beings, we are all temporarily deceived into thinking, that the lives we currently lead are going to stay the same forever.
We never even stop for a moment to contemplate on what are we going to do when things are going to take a sudden change in our lives.
Like when a student lets go of his fun filled collage days and is about to graduate.
And suddenly you are thrust out there in the world unprepared and find yourself running nook and corner for a job.
Or when someone has to forsake his single carefree days and has to eventually commit to someone eternally in matrimony.
The prospect of uncertainty is too much to consider. Perhaps even overwhelming to some.
I really wish things could always stay the same.
For instance, where the only major concern for me would be preparing some sort of report for the class the next day, or figuring out what movie to watch while I have dinner.
But it is never so!
They say change is good. It refreshes life and removes any sort of monotony.
Perhaps so. But then again, I haven't a clue so as to what sort of prospects will the so called change herald into my life.
I wish all of us were born with a manual which told each one of us, what sort of direction our lives are going to take.
But if wishes were pennies.....you get the picture.
Its just awful that one has to be left wondering so as to what is going to happen next. Frankly for me the current prospect of graduation, and subsequent entry into medical practice is leaving me terrified so as to how will I handle everything.
I seriously haven't a clue.
All I am aware of at this moment, are the final exams that are looming somewhere in the corner, and the tachycardia that seems to grow more and more consistent day by day.
For some the world "out there" is interesting, while for some, it doesn't make a difference worth a shilling. Whereas for me it is just plain scary.

All in all, its an awful thing to let fear and doubt plague you.
Perhaps the key would be to let go of all that bothers you. Like the fears that manifest themselves as malignant dark clouds looming overhead.
And pretend, as though indeed things are going to stay the same forever.
The past no longer exists, and the future is something that is yet to be seen.
The present is the one reality.
I suppose the answer lies in living in the present, and not bothering about what the future has to offer.
I have never been a fan of planning things because things seldom have a tendency to work out the way you would expect them too.
So all I can do for now, is play pretend, act as though there is nothing "out there" to get me.
And live in the moment.
For tomorrow is just another day.

Image credit: http://www.flickr.com/photos/vermininc, http://www.flickr.com/photos/jessjessjess, http://www.flickr.com/photos/kitsa_sakurako,http://www.flickr.com/photos/tsukubajin