This weekend, the new EPL season will resume in earnest when Spurs taken on mega rich City. Just three points and one league position separated these two teams at the end of the 2009-10 campaign, but they were worlds apart in terms of what they achieved. Champions leage for Spurs and so-near-yet-so-far for City. Considering the stakes, EPL could not have hoped for a better match to announce the arrival of new season. I think the battle for fourth position would be more fierce than the battle for the title. Spurs, Liverpool, Man City and Everton would fight for fourth while Arsenal, Chelsea and Man U will fight for the title.
Even though I am an Arsenal fan, I think this season could be a defining season for Wenger's legacy. I do not see Cesc staying at Arsenal next year if somehow Arsenal contrive to fail to win the title this year. Considering that Chelsea have not made significant addition to their squad and Man U have spent 30 million on players they did not really need, Arsenal are best placed to better themselves than last year and go for the title. Arsenal players are going up while Chelsea players can only go down with age.
My predictions for this season
Champion: Arsenal
Rest of the four: Chelsea, Man U and Man City
Relegation: Blackpool, West Brom and Wolves
Player of the season: Cesc Fabregas
Friday, August 13, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
"We are What We Choose"
A really brilliant commencement speech given by Jeff Bezos at Princeton. I just love reading it. The choice is yours. What choices will I make today to build a better future? What choices will you make today to make a better future?
"We are What We Choose"
Remarks by Jeff Bezos, as delivered to the Class of 2010 Baccalaureate
May 30, 2010
As a kid, I spent my summers with my grandparents on their ranch in Texas. I helped fix windmills, vaccinate cattle, and do other chores. We also watched soap operas every afternoon, especially "Days of our Lives." My grandparents belonged to a Caravan Club, a group of Airstream trailer owners who travel together around the U.S. and Canada. And every few summers, we'd join the caravan. We'd hitch up the Airstream trailer to my grandfather's car, and off we'd go, in a line with 300 other Airstream adventurers. I loved and worshipped my grandparents and I really looked forward to these trips. On one particular trip, I was about 10 years old. I was rolling around in the big bench seat in the back of the car. My grandfather was driving. And my grandmother had the passenger seat. She smoked throughout these trips, and I hated the smell.
At that age, I'd take any excuse to make estimates and do minor arithmetic. I'd calculate our gas mileage -- figure out useless statistics on things like grocery spending. I'd been hearing an ad campaign about smoking. I can't remember the details, but basically the ad said, every puff of a cigarette takes some number of minutes off of your life: I think it might have been two minutes per puff. At any rate, I decided to do the math for my grandmother. I estimated the number of cigarettes per days, estimated the number of puffs per cigarette and so on. When I was satisfied that I'd come up with a reasonable number, I poked my head into the front of the car, tapped my grandmother on the shoulder, and proudly proclaimed, "At two minutes per puff, you've taken nine years off your life!"
I have a vivid memory of what happened, and it was not what I expected. I expected to be applauded for my cleverness and arithmetic skills. "Jeff, you're so smart. You had to have made some tricky estimates, figure out the number of minutes in a year and do some division." That's not what happened. Instead, my grandmother burst into tears. I sat in the backseat and did not know what to do. While my grandmother sat crying, my grandfather, who had been driving in silence, pulled over onto the shoulder of the highway. He got out of the car and came around and opened my door and waited for me to follow. Was I in trouble? My grandfather was a highly intelligent, quiet man. He had never said a harsh word to me, and maybe this was to be the first time? Or maybe he would ask that I get back in the car and apologize to my grandmother. I had no experience in this realm with my grandparents and no way to gauge what the consequences might be. We stopped beside the trailer. My grandfather looked at me, and after a bit of silence, he gently and calmly said, "Jeff, one day you'll understand that it's harder to be kind than clever."
What I want to talk to you about today is the difference between gifts and choices. Cleverness is a gift, kindness is a choice. Gifts are easy -- they're given after all. Choices can be hard. You can seduce yourself with your gifts if you're not careful, and if you do, it'll probably be to the detriment of your choices.
This is a group with many gifts. I'm sure one of your gifts is the gift of a smart and capable brain. I'm confident that's the case because admission is competitive and if there weren't some signs that you're clever, the dean of admission wouldn't have let you in.
Your smarts will come in handy because you will travel in a land of marvels. We humans -- plodding as we are -- will astonish ourselves. We'll invent ways to generate clean energy and a lot of it. Atom by atom, we'll assemble tiny machines that will enter cell walls and make repairs. This month comes the extraordinary but also inevitable news that we've synthesized life. In the coming years, we'll not only synthesize it, but we'll engineer it to specifications. I believe you'll even see us understand the human brain. Jules Verne, Mark Twain, Galileo, Newton -- all the curious from the ages would have wanted to be alive most of all right now. As a civilization, we will have so many gifts, just as you as individuals have so many individual gifts as you sit before me.
How will you use these gifts? And will you take pride in your gifts or pride in your choices?
I got the idea to start Amazon 16 years ago. I came across the fact that Web usage was growing at 2,300 percent per year. I'd never seen or heard of anything that grew that fast, and the idea of building an online bookstore with millions of titles -- something that simply couldn't exist in the physical world -- was very exciting to me. I had just turned 30 years old, and I'd been married for a year. I told my wife MacKenzie that I wanted to quit my job and go do this crazy thing that probably wouldn't work since most startups don't, and I wasn't sure what would happen after that. MacKenzie (also a Princeton grad and sitting here in the second row) told me I should go for it. As a young boy, I'd been a garage inventor. I'd invented an automatic gate closer out of cement-filled tires, a solar cooker that didn't work very well out of an umbrella and tinfoil, baking-pan alarms to entrap my siblings. I'd always wanted to be an inventor, and she wanted me to follow my passion.
I was working at a financial firm in New York City with a bunch of very smart people, and I had a brilliant boss that I much admired. I went to my boss and told him I wanted to start a company selling books on the Internet. He took me on a long walk in Central Park, listened carefully to me, and finally said, "That sounds like a really good idea, but it would be an even better idea for someone who didn't already have a good job." That logic made some sense to me, and he convinced me to think about it for 48 hours before making a final decision. Seen in that light, it really was a difficult choice, but ultimately, I decided I had to give it a shot. I didn't think I'd regret trying and failing. And I suspected I would always be haunted by a decision to not try at all. After much consideration, I took the less safe path to follow my passion, and I'm proud of that choice.
Tomorrow, in a very real sense, your life -- the life you author from scratch on your own -- begins.
How will you use your gifts? What choices will you make?
Will inertia be your guide, or will you follow your passions?
Will you follow dogma, or will you be original?
Will you choose a life of ease, or a life of service and adventure?
Will you wilt under criticism, or will you follow your convictions?
Will you bluff it out when you're wrong, or will you apologize?
Will you guard your heart against rejection, or will you act when you fall in love?
Will you play it safe, or will you be a little bit swashbuckling?
When it's tough, will you give up, or will you be relentless?
Will you be a cynic, or will you be a builder?
Will you be clever at the expense of others, or will you be kind?
I will hazard a prediction. When you are 80 years old, and in a quiet moment of reflection narrating for only yourself the most personal version of your life story, the telling that will be most compact and meaningful will be the series of choices you have made. In the end, we are our choices. Build yourself a great story. Thank you and good luck!
"We are What We Choose"
Remarks by Jeff Bezos, as delivered to the Class of 2010 Baccalaureate
May 30, 2010
As a kid, I spent my summers with my grandparents on their ranch in Texas. I helped fix windmills, vaccinate cattle, and do other chores. We also watched soap operas every afternoon, especially "Days of our Lives." My grandparents belonged to a Caravan Club, a group of Airstream trailer owners who travel together around the U.S. and Canada. And every few summers, we'd join the caravan. We'd hitch up the Airstream trailer to my grandfather's car, and off we'd go, in a line with 300 other Airstream adventurers. I loved and worshipped my grandparents and I really looked forward to these trips. On one particular trip, I was about 10 years old. I was rolling around in the big bench seat in the back of the car. My grandfather was driving. And my grandmother had the passenger seat. She smoked throughout these trips, and I hated the smell.
At that age, I'd take any excuse to make estimates and do minor arithmetic. I'd calculate our gas mileage -- figure out useless statistics on things like grocery spending. I'd been hearing an ad campaign about smoking. I can't remember the details, but basically the ad said, every puff of a cigarette takes some number of minutes off of your life: I think it might have been two minutes per puff. At any rate, I decided to do the math for my grandmother. I estimated the number of cigarettes per days, estimated the number of puffs per cigarette and so on. When I was satisfied that I'd come up with a reasonable number, I poked my head into the front of the car, tapped my grandmother on the shoulder, and proudly proclaimed, "At two minutes per puff, you've taken nine years off your life!"
I have a vivid memory of what happened, and it was not what I expected. I expected to be applauded for my cleverness and arithmetic skills. "Jeff, you're so smart. You had to have made some tricky estimates, figure out the number of minutes in a year and do some division." That's not what happened. Instead, my grandmother burst into tears. I sat in the backseat and did not know what to do. While my grandmother sat crying, my grandfather, who had been driving in silence, pulled over onto the shoulder of the highway. He got out of the car and came around and opened my door and waited for me to follow. Was I in trouble? My grandfather was a highly intelligent, quiet man. He had never said a harsh word to me, and maybe this was to be the first time? Or maybe he would ask that I get back in the car and apologize to my grandmother. I had no experience in this realm with my grandparents and no way to gauge what the consequences might be. We stopped beside the trailer. My grandfather looked at me, and after a bit of silence, he gently and calmly said, "Jeff, one day you'll understand that it's harder to be kind than clever."
What I want to talk to you about today is the difference between gifts and choices. Cleverness is a gift, kindness is a choice. Gifts are easy -- they're given after all. Choices can be hard. You can seduce yourself with your gifts if you're not careful, and if you do, it'll probably be to the detriment of your choices.
This is a group with many gifts. I'm sure one of your gifts is the gift of a smart and capable brain. I'm confident that's the case because admission is competitive and if there weren't some signs that you're clever, the dean of admission wouldn't have let you in.
Your smarts will come in handy because you will travel in a land of marvels. We humans -- plodding as we are -- will astonish ourselves. We'll invent ways to generate clean energy and a lot of it. Atom by atom, we'll assemble tiny machines that will enter cell walls and make repairs. This month comes the extraordinary but also inevitable news that we've synthesized life. In the coming years, we'll not only synthesize it, but we'll engineer it to specifications. I believe you'll even see us understand the human brain. Jules Verne, Mark Twain, Galileo, Newton -- all the curious from the ages would have wanted to be alive most of all right now. As a civilization, we will have so many gifts, just as you as individuals have so many individual gifts as you sit before me.
How will you use these gifts? And will you take pride in your gifts or pride in your choices?
I got the idea to start Amazon 16 years ago. I came across the fact that Web usage was growing at 2,300 percent per year. I'd never seen or heard of anything that grew that fast, and the idea of building an online bookstore with millions of titles -- something that simply couldn't exist in the physical world -- was very exciting to me. I had just turned 30 years old, and I'd been married for a year. I told my wife MacKenzie that I wanted to quit my job and go do this crazy thing that probably wouldn't work since most startups don't, and I wasn't sure what would happen after that. MacKenzie (also a Princeton grad and sitting here in the second row) told me I should go for it. As a young boy, I'd been a garage inventor. I'd invented an automatic gate closer out of cement-filled tires, a solar cooker that didn't work very well out of an umbrella and tinfoil, baking-pan alarms to entrap my siblings. I'd always wanted to be an inventor, and she wanted me to follow my passion.
I was working at a financial firm in New York City with a bunch of very smart people, and I had a brilliant boss that I much admired. I went to my boss and told him I wanted to start a company selling books on the Internet. He took me on a long walk in Central Park, listened carefully to me, and finally said, "That sounds like a really good idea, but it would be an even better idea for someone who didn't already have a good job." That logic made some sense to me, and he convinced me to think about it for 48 hours before making a final decision. Seen in that light, it really was a difficult choice, but ultimately, I decided I had to give it a shot. I didn't think I'd regret trying and failing. And I suspected I would always be haunted by a decision to not try at all. After much consideration, I took the less safe path to follow my passion, and I'm proud of that choice.
Tomorrow, in a very real sense, your life -- the life you author from scratch on your own -- begins.
How will you use your gifts? What choices will you make?
Will inertia be your guide, or will you follow your passions?
Will you follow dogma, or will you be original?
Will you choose a life of ease, or a life of service and adventure?
Will you wilt under criticism, or will you follow your convictions?
Will you bluff it out when you're wrong, or will you apologize?
Will you guard your heart against rejection, or will you act when you fall in love?
Will you play it safe, or will you be a little bit swashbuckling?
When it's tough, will you give up, or will you be relentless?
Will you be a cynic, or will you be a builder?
Will you be clever at the expense of others, or will you be kind?
I will hazard a prediction. When you are 80 years old, and in a quiet moment of reflection narrating for only yourself the most personal version of your life story, the telling that will be most compact and meaningful will be the series of choices you have made. In the end, we are our choices. Build yourself a great story. Thank you and good luck!
Sunday, May 09, 2010
Things I learnt this weekend
1. Snickers chocolate bar was named after the pet horse of the inventors, Mr and Mrs Mars of M&M.
2. Breakfast at Tiffany's was written by Truman Capote.
3. Alexander Cartwright first established the official rules of baseball and this game has been played in US since 1820s. Though Mr. A Doubleday was initially credited with inventing it in Cooperstown, NY.
4. Doubleday, the publishing company was founded in 1897 by Frank Doubleday. Rudyard Kipling was among the company's most noted early authors.
5. Both Mr Doubldays in 3 and 4 are not related.
6. JFK was 35th president of the United States. He married Jacqueline Bouvier in Rhode Island, which is the smallest state of US.
7. Rolomac makes the theft-resistant products like the kind of pens found in the banks and chained to the counter.
8. Pedantic means an ostentatious display of learning particularly on a subject's trivial details.
9. Guggenheim museum is officially known as The Solomon R. Guggenheim Museum and it opened in 1959.
10. If you are fascinated by the distinctive circular Guggenheim design, it was designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. It apparently ranks among the 20th century's finest architectural achievements.
Well if you are a Seinfeld freak, you know what all the above means. I spent the whole weekend researching it. Life is cool :-)
Friday, May 07, 2010
Rajitha - The Ugly Side of India
I am generally sick of Indian media high on sensationalism and low on facts. But, NDTV suprised me with this good piece of journalism. More power to them for this and hope they do more.
On the other side, I felt so sad at the plight of this poor kid. The physical scars would heal probably but can not even imagine the scars on her soul. Some really are apparently children of a lesser God.
http://www.ndtv.com/news/videos/video_player.php?id=1224938
Where is CRY when you really need them?
On the other side, I felt so sad at the plight of this poor kid. The physical scars would heal probably but can not even imagine the scars on her soul. Some really are apparently children of a lesser God.
http://www.ndtv.com/news/videos/video_player.php?id=1224938
Where is CRY when you really need them?
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
An over-examined life
"An unexamined life is not worth living", so said Socrates. I have always been fascinated by this quote but never really felt that I understand its meaning. I do not know why but for sometime now, this quote keeps coming back to me for one reason or another. I am still trying to figure out its meaning and hope to have some idea sooner rather than later. The blog is my way of thinking out loud this puzzling but fascinating philosophical quote by a very learned man.
While I think about this quote, I start having more questions than answers. Unfortunately he did not say how much to examine your life and when to stop examining your life. When does it start to become an over-examined life? Is an over-examined life easy to live? I always took this quote to heart and even today try to do some soul searching almost all the time. Am I doing the right thing? Am I behaving like a reasonable person with good moral and ethical standards? This continuous soul searching has made me feel good deep inside about myself even though more often than not I have had to walk an extra mile to live up to these high moral and ethical standards. The more important question comes when I see all around me events, people who clearly are not subjecting themselves to high standards. I ask myself ,"are they examining their lives? Probably not but they seem happy, and enjoying life like they are supposed to enjoy one precious life. So how come their life is not worth living?"
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Brokeback Mountain
"I wish I knew how to quit you"
The dialogue has been ringing in my head since I finished watching this movie tonight. What a movie! While the movie was playing, I was totally spellbound, touched and transported in the Wyoming ranches, so good was this movie. So vivid, I could smell it. So real, I could feel it. So heart breaking, it might have been me. After long time, a movie felt so good, so real and so sad. Words fail me but I feel it. I could only wonder at Ang Lee's genius in amazement. I wish I could make a movie like this. When the credits started rolling, I could feel the pain, the longing and what-could-have-been feelings of Ennis Del Mar as if it were happening to me. What a tragedy. When a movie hits me so hard, then I know I watched something special. Heath Ledger, RIP. You were just amazing.
When I think about it, I never gathered the courage to watch this movie till now. I did not know whether I would be comfortable watching two cowboys in love. But now after watching this movie, I could only marvel at the way Ang Lee had treated such a sensitive subject. The movie is about love, never-ending longing and suffering for a love lost forever. How must it feel to know that only if you had a made a different choice, trusted your gut feeling and feel it with your every breath. What if Enniss had gone to Mexico with Jack? What if Jack had not died? Would the story would have been as touching as it was with Jack being dead in the end? I do not know...I can only wonder...
I love good movies but I always try to balance my thoughts at the end saying to myself, its just a movie. However once in a while a movie comes along which makes me vulnerable and think about life, universe and everything. It was one of those few..I mean love happens...by design, by fate, by circumstances...don't know why but it happens...it could be coined gay, lesbian, straight or whatever but its just love by different name...why would one be better than the other...all should be allowed to blossom equally. Why should Ennis and Jack have a fear of retribution from society? I wish it was not the case in our society but then I have seen so much of ungodly acts happening in this world in just 30 years of my life that I am almost beginning to question the very existence of God too. I wish I could meet God and get all answers directly from Him rather than through his interpreters. On top of my list would be though a question from my childhood. Whenever I used to gaze at stars lying in the paddy fields in my village, I would wonder how far I can go in universe....where does it end? I have not found the answer till now, so I guess all my answers would have to wait too..I wish I could meet God and have a one to one talk. I hate myself when I begin to delve into this existentialism questions and theories. But it always happens at the end of a movie I really like. Brokeback Mountain again made me realize how powerful the force of love could be and how helpless you could be when you have lost your love forever. I guess there is a Brokeback Mountain inside all of us, a person whom we would like to come to, but of course some never do.
I wish we knew how to quit.
Thank you Ang Lee for such a wonderful movie.
Monday, November 17, 2008
Back on blogging world
This is another attempt of me to get back to blogging. I am hoping this time I would be more regular. Lately I have been feeling the world is moving at a faster pace than usual and I can not keep up with it. What was a "hot" news few days back, now its all old, stale news. My hope is that I could jot down all my thoughts on topics of my interest in one place and not lost over time. I do not know what were my thoughts when Arsenal blew there championship chances last year, or when India beat Australia in the Mohali test couple of weeks back. What were my thoughts the night Obama won the election ? I hope this blogging would give me an opportunity to do so. And finally, I hope I would be able to connect with few more friends whom I have lost touch with over time.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Summer is back, and so are mangoes
Recently, an article about king of fruits, mangoes, caught my attention as finally looks like, it would be available in US soon too. After most summers of my childhood chasing this special king of fruits, I have special liking for aam. Mouth just starts watering if I imagine ek khatta aam. When I was a kid of around 9-10 years, I used to travel miles in and around my village in Nalanda with bunch of friends on bare foot in shorts and a baniyan in scorching summer heat to quench the palatal yearning of mangoes, for the khatte aam in the early summers and later for the luscious and divine pake hue aam. Broiling and tropical loo didn't bother, school and parents were dismissed as a minor irritant, gardeners and mango tree owners were just another obstacle barricading me from that taste of divinity. After marshaling all my intelligence, boundless enthusiasm, fearless spirit and never-say-die attitude for these mangoes, I would find myself happily climbing these huge mango trees and jumping from one razor-thin branches to another. Up there on the top of the mango tree, I felt like I am in the middle of heaven and all the pleasure is mine. I would invariably eat so many khatte aam that my teeth would give away. How could you control yourself when you are ensconced with all these mangoes all around yourself. No one can eat just one. Many evenings I used to get good thrashing from my mom for all this vagabond adventure of mine in such sweltering summer. However who was I to resist this unstoppable force of yearning and few days later, I would be back scouring miles for that perfect taste of khatte aur meethe aam. The funny part is I didn't even know today what breed of aam it was. To my despair, my adventure was cut short when I had to move out to the city and then to my amazement, I found out that there are so many breed of mangoes out there. More famous cousins I should say. Malda, Langra, Dusehari, Neelum, Safeda, Fazali, Vanraj, yada yada yada and more yada yada. If Malda flavor was sweetest, then Langra was long lasting and so on. It appeared all very confusing and to my horror, if I had one of these famous cousins of my gaon wala aam, my cravings would just dwindle. I could eat just one. Apparently I had grown up and grudgingly, I compromised for Dudhiya Malda as my first choice. I still loved the king of fruit, but I had lost the sight of kingdom of heavenly taste to which I used to be transcended whenever I had these mangoes. Mango was slowly becoming like any other fruit to me. Mango was more and more appearing like oranges. You got to eat since its good for health. It was all like this till one fine day I was hooked on to Alphonso. When I was in IIT Bombay, I was gifted a basket of these Alphonsoes and I was like alright here is one more famous cousin of my gaon wala aam. Reluctantly, I tried a bite and hmm...it was good, it was like a shot of hemoglobin up my spine, the taste was back and once again, I couldn't just eat one. I had to have more and pretty soon, there was none left.... I was swept off once again by this king of fruit and once again looks like my summer honeymoon with king of fruit is going to back on the menu again. Am waiting for Alphonso to cross the Atlantic barrier and come once again within the reach of my dollars. Well not exactly the same thrill of good old glory days but still, a cheap thrill is better than no thrill :-)
Thank God for Mangifera indica L
Thank God for Mangifera indica L
Sunday, October 09, 2005
Having an abused birthplace.....
Bihar...the moment you utter this word at least to an Indian, you cannot help noticing the smirk on other's person face. 9 out of 10 times, it would be true. If you are a Bihari, you would know the feeling. No, its not my insecurties and shame that makes me feel so. Most of the times, its blatantly there to ignore such smirk. You can at least feel the sense of inner happiness and relief that (s)he is not from that place...then invariably a comment or two abt Biharis and Lalu Prasad would follow...
I happened to chat one otherwise pretty beautiful lass and things were looking pretty much encouraging to say the least. Such incidents have been far and very few to me, so if you are somewhat like me, you would know the feeling when such rare pleasant exceptions happen. The chat went on fine for quite sometime abt all the useless things on the world, which both of us seemed to like and I was pretty much sure abt asking her out again in a more formal way. Just before parting, she asked me, "by the way, where are you from? " I said,"Patna. Its a beautiful city of interesting contrasts. You would love to know abt ..." and before I could finish myself she said, "Patna se hatna nahin..ha ha...Laluji kaise hain? Maine suna hai ki wahan pe logon bachpan mein pakad kar shaadi kar dete hain...maine suna hai ki wahan pe log gun lekar hi ghumte rehte hain...blah blah...blah.." Now that I am used to such (un)intentional fun..I laughed along, not sure of how and what to say. I guess I dont have to mention now that nothing further happened.
One of my good friends, which I would not name here, in IIT Bombay was actually from Patna. Except for two years in 11th and 12th, he studied in Patna. His immediate family has always been in Patna and in fact, his dad is a very good surgeon in Patna. But whenever he used to introduce himself in IIT, he would always say he is from Delhi. Later on during our train ride back home for the winter vacation, I asked him abt it and I said I feel offended when you lie my friend. He very coolly said, "I feel I am taken lightly yaar if I said I am from Bihar". I didn't argue. I guess I didn't because somehow I could feel it may be somewhat true. You know we never talked abt it but it left a lasting impression on me.
If something stupid happens once, you are surprised. If the same thing happens some more number of times, you feel angry. If it keeps on happening you learn to get used to it. IGNORE. IGNORE. IGNORE. Then, you become quite a thick skinned that it doesn't affect you any more. So am I. When someone laughs at me, I feel little bit Jesus like. Forgive Lord, (s)he doesnt know how much ignorant (s)he is abt such a beautiful and historical place like Bihar. Now that I have spent most of my adhulthood outside Bihar, I have come across these incidents too frequently. Most of my friends who are from Bihar have similar tales to tell. It always had made me wonder, "Why?" "How come such a beautiful and historical place, janmbhoomi of Buddhism and Jainism, karmbhoomi of first truly pan-India ruler Ashoka, Chanakya, Mahatma Gandhi, and JP in most recent past have become so much maligned that Bihari has become some sort of abuse in itself." I really wonder and have always tried to find answers to these questions.
To me, Bihar is the most beautiful place and it always will be so. Being born in a village which is in the heart of Nalanda and Rajgir, I see myself as a part of such glorious and illustrious past that I feel humbled. My village is at a stone's throw distance from Pawapuri, the place where Lord Mahavira attained Nirvana and whenever I used to think abt it, I used to feel so lucky that I am walking on the same place where once such a divine person used to spread the message of love, peace and humanity. Always the same pride and even today its the same. Unfortunately when I get too nostalgic about it, I feel so much sorry about its current state of affairs that I feel an urge to quit everything, go back in my village and do something to imporve at least my village. Being a son of that soil, I think its one of my responsibilities too. However, confronted by the wisdom of Vedas from my parents that my first responsibility is the well-being of family and then the social responsbility, I stop myself. For now. Probably later on sometime, I wouldn't stop myself and do something on the social level there. Surely not on political level. Since the days of Chanakya, politics is something every son and daughter of Bihar understands. So I would leave it in "supposedly" better hands and focus my two cents on social level. Every time, I have been called a Bihari, I have wished that one day I would see Bihar flourish in all walks of life. Alas! It has gone worse and worse. Hopefully before I breath my last.
Being born there, having my immediate family there, having spent early 18 years of my life there and then spent so many years outside that place, I think I have been getting some ideas about how could be that. In the coming posts, I would try to answer these questions from the perspective of a Bihari. I am sure you would be surprised to know more about this beautiful state and its people. Just to initiate the discussion, I would paraphrase a quote famously said about Indira Gandhi during those dark days of emergency. Lalu is not Bihar and Bihar is not Lalu.
And yeah, I hope that beautiful lass happens to see this post.
I happened to chat one otherwise pretty beautiful lass and things were looking pretty much encouraging to say the least. Such incidents have been far and very few to me, so if you are somewhat like me, you would know the feeling when such rare pleasant exceptions happen. The chat went on fine for quite sometime abt all the useless things on the world, which both of us seemed to like and I was pretty much sure abt asking her out again in a more formal way. Just before parting, she asked me, "by the way, where are you from? " I said,"Patna. Its a beautiful city of interesting contrasts. You would love to know abt ..." and before I could finish myself she said, "Patna se hatna nahin..ha ha...Laluji kaise hain? Maine suna hai ki wahan pe logon bachpan mein pakad kar shaadi kar dete hain...maine suna hai ki wahan pe log gun lekar hi ghumte rehte hain...blah blah...blah.." Now that I am used to such (un)intentional fun..I laughed along, not sure of how and what to say. I guess I dont have to mention now that nothing further happened.
One of my good friends, which I would not name here, in IIT Bombay was actually from Patna. Except for two years in 11th and 12th, he studied in Patna. His immediate family has always been in Patna and in fact, his dad is a very good surgeon in Patna. But whenever he used to introduce himself in IIT, he would always say he is from Delhi. Later on during our train ride back home for the winter vacation, I asked him abt it and I said I feel offended when you lie my friend. He very coolly said, "I feel I am taken lightly yaar if I said I am from Bihar". I didn't argue. I guess I didn't because somehow I could feel it may be somewhat true. You know we never talked abt it but it left a lasting impression on me.
If something stupid happens once, you are surprised. If the same thing happens some more number of times, you feel angry. If it keeps on happening you learn to get used to it. IGNORE. IGNORE. IGNORE. Then, you become quite a thick skinned that it doesn't affect you any more. So am I. When someone laughs at me, I feel little bit Jesus like. Forgive Lord, (s)he doesnt know how much ignorant (s)he is abt such a beautiful and historical place like Bihar. Now that I have spent most of my adhulthood outside Bihar, I have come across these incidents too frequently. Most of my friends who are from Bihar have similar tales to tell. It always had made me wonder, "Why?" "How come such a beautiful and historical place, janmbhoomi of Buddhism and Jainism, karmbhoomi of first truly pan-India ruler Ashoka, Chanakya, Mahatma Gandhi, and JP in most recent past have become so much maligned that Bihari has become some sort of abuse in itself." I really wonder and have always tried to find answers to these questions.
To me, Bihar is the most beautiful place and it always will be so. Being born in a village which is in the heart of Nalanda and Rajgir, I see myself as a part of such glorious and illustrious past that I feel humbled. My village is at a stone's throw distance from Pawapuri, the place where Lord Mahavira attained Nirvana and whenever I used to think abt it, I used to feel so lucky that I am walking on the same place where once such a divine person used to spread the message of love, peace and humanity. Always the same pride and even today its the same. Unfortunately when I get too nostalgic about it, I feel so much sorry about its current state of affairs that I feel an urge to quit everything, go back in my village and do something to imporve at least my village. Being a son of that soil, I think its one of my responsibilities too. However, confronted by the wisdom of Vedas from my parents that my first responsibility is the well-being of family and then the social responsbility, I stop myself. For now. Probably later on sometime, I wouldn't stop myself and do something on the social level there. Surely not on political level. Since the days of Chanakya, politics is something every son and daughter of Bihar understands. So I would leave it in "supposedly" better hands and focus my two cents on social level. Every time, I have been called a Bihari, I have wished that one day I would see Bihar flourish in all walks of life. Alas! It has gone worse and worse. Hopefully before I breath my last.
Being born there, having my immediate family there, having spent early 18 years of my life there and then spent so many years outside that place, I think I have been getting some ideas about how could be that. In the coming posts, I would try to answer these questions from the perspective of a Bihari. I am sure you would be surprised to know more about this beautiful state and its people. Just to initiate the discussion, I would paraphrase a quote famously said about Indira Gandhi during those dark days of emergency. Lalu is not Bihar and Bihar is not Lalu.
And yeah, I hope that beautiful lass happens to see this post.
Saturday, October 08, 2005
How to kill time ?
Since past few weekends or so, I have been realising that I am wasting too much of my energy and time on inconsequential things in life. To me, any activity which doesn't give me inner satisfaction or sense of fulfillment, I call it inconsequential. It can be anything from sitting idle at home to having an unproductive day at work. I do not want to go into the list but I am sure eveyone feels at one time or another the same. So, I was and still am determined that I am going to put lot of effort into having a productive weekend, if there is anything of that sort. Unfortunately, after trying to figure out what to do, which activity to pursue to achieve that sort of feeling, I have wasted half of the weekend. In frustration, I have turned to this blogging page to write something. Even though I have punched just a couple of sentances, I am feeling better. Not guilty of wasting time as such. Since these days, I feel I can always squeeze out couple of hourse in a week to post something here, I am thinking to puruse this more seriously. Even though I do lot of soul-searching abt anything and always seem to have a plethora of thoughts going on my mind, I have never been a great fan of "dear diary" moments. This blogging thing seems to me more like that, I think I gonna like it. So lets see, how far it goes or like many other habbits I would lose interest over time....
Wednesday, January 12, 2005
The begining
Today, I woke myself with an idea to do something *creative* and see, where I have ended up. I am just trying to figure out whats the deal with blogging but after tsunami tragedy where bloggers played a major role in spreading the news, info and others, I got interested to it. Lets see how it goes...I know for sure that some of my friends do have their very blogs, I never been regular to them. Now I intend to do so :-)
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