Sunday, 28 November 2010
You want to do something you love to do, but you don’t do that. What does it suggest? As for me: Sheer Idleness. I am not being philosophical. I am just talking about writing this blog. I wanted to write when I came back from Mount Abu and Udaipur. I wanted to write again when I came back from my tour to Tulsishyam and Diu with my childhood friends Anil, Arvind, their wives Kajalbhabhi and Divyabhabhi and wonderful kids Drashti, Darshan, and Deepal. But I didn’t. Obviously there is pleasure in shirking what you are supposed to do.
The other day I got a call from my friend Pradip. Full name Pradipsinh Jadeja. He is not popular as my friend. Actually he is elder brother to my college friend Dashrath, but Dashrath lost all contacts with me for a long time, but Pradip didn’t. And as a result he is more closer to me now than his brother Dashrath. On the day I am talking about he seemed restless from the way he talked:
“ Half of the vacation has already gone and now I’m having itchy feet!”
(ગુજરાતીમા એના શબ્દો હતાઃ "મને પગમા કીડી ચડી રહી છે.")
“Where do you plan to go?” I asked
“Anywhere”
“ What about Kolkata?”
“ Don’t have that much time. It will take six days just in traveling. My school will open on 22nd this month”
“ Then let’s move around the coastal area of Gujarat on bike”
“ I want to move out of Gujarat”
“ Mt Abu?”
“ That sounds better”
“ Done?”
“ Done”
After a tiring night journey, we reached Abu Road at noon and rented a room in Gujarati Samaj. The manager told us not to visit Mt Abu that day and instead advised to visit Ambaji first. I came to know about Ambaji during my stay in Ahmdedabad. I have seen people walking down to this pilgrimage centre from far away places like Ahmedabad which is around 200 kms away. Really an arduous journey. When we reached Ambaji, I was shocked to see the number of people thronging at the place. I like religious people. All I hate is the pretension of being religious that many people indulges in. Whenever I go to temple( which is very rare), I make sure I bow down to the idols of gods or goddesses. Pradip asks: why? I say: If they are kind enough to allow atheists like me inside the temple, I have no qualm in bowing down to gods. And besides I don’t want to offend anyone by behaving in a manner that seems awkward in the temple.
When I was in Hyderabad one day there happened a very long discussion on mobile this subject of God between Mita, one of my recent friends, and me.
M : But what is your problem with god? Why do you hate him?
I : I never hated god. And even if I ever hated Him, I don’t hate him now.
M : But still you don’t believe in God. Why?
I : God is a concept created by people. So many people believe in him does not mean that I should also believe in him.
M : Is it just a concept? Don’t you see there is someone, some supernatural power high above us who controls us, this earth, the sun, the moon, the stars and in fact this entire cosmos. How can you think that all this happens without anyone to control it?
I : So you think it is God who controls us?
M : Who else can do that?
I : Nature
M : Everything is same. You are just using different terminology.
I : No, everything is not same. Nature is Nature. It is not God. We think of god mostly with regard to PAAP (bad deeds) and PUNYA (good deeds). We think there is a god high above us who keeps records of all our good and bad deeds and punishes or rewards us according to that. Nature doesn’t make such distinction. For Nature everything is same. No distinction. No PAAP or PUNYA, no Punishments or Rewards. It is just that you need to be fit to live in this world, if you are not you are going to die. Many wonderful species like dinosaurs have vanished from the surface of this world for one or the other reasons.humanbeings will also survive on this earth as long as we are fit to live on this earth or anywhere in this cosmos.
M : And your Nature works automatically? Without anyone’s support?
I : Nature is alive. It is self-reliant. It doesn’t need anyone’s support. Even
before men came on this earth, trees used to grow. was there anyone to water the
the saplings or sow the seeds at that time?
M : But if there is no god, no punishments or rewards then why should people be good
others?
I : We should be good to others not for the fear of being judged by god one day; we should be good to others because as thinking human beings we should realise that it is the ideal thing to do, morally and ethically. As humanbeing I know that I suffer pain when I am ill-treated. That knowledge tells me that I should treat others in the same way I want to be treated by them.
M : But not all people can be so great to think so high..
I : That is the case at present. Not all people understand this. Terrorists don’t
understand this. Who will punish them. God? No. It will be done by us. By laws. Laws created by us , not by Gods. There are strict laws in any nations to regulate people, to make sure they honour GOOD and don’t follow BAD.
M : So you don’t hate God because you think there is no God at all.
I : In fact, I would be the happiest person if someone proves to me that there is
God. I like the qualities that are attached with the god: omnipresent, omnipotent, omniscient, kind, liberal, taking care of all, a really father figure…that’s why I don’t hate god. It is poor thing that there is no God. That makes me sad. I wish there was one, because in his absence I see no rhyme or reason or poetic justice in this world. In his presence, the world would have been a better place to live.
I am going off the track. Now I am coming back to Ambaji…After visiting the main temple of Ma Amba, we went to Gabbar. I was happy to see the rope-way. People were calling it “Udan Khatola”. What a nice word! I wanted to go by rope-way, but Pradip wanted to take stairs. He promised me we would return in Udan Khatola which we did. Besides these places we also visited Koteshwar and Kumbhadiya Jain Temple. The marble temples at Kumbhadiya were awesome. Pradip was so struck with the beautiful carving in the marble that he exclaimed that no humanbeing could create this temple. Only god alone could have done that.
The next day we went to Mount Abu. We hired a bike from the a shop in front of the bus- stand so that we could take our own time to visit all those beautiful places: Gurushikahar, Achalgarh, Delwara temples, Adhar devi, Nakki( Nakhi) lake and sun-set point. All these places have their own beauty, but I liked Nakhi lake a lot. There are different versions of its creation. One version says it was created by Balam Rasia (or Rasia Balam) with his nails just in one night’s time. Balam Rasia was an aged sage who fell in love with a teenage girl, kunwari kanya of the king of Mt Abu. The two lovelorn souls were prevented from tying their love in a nuptial knot, by the scheming parents and their conniving Gods. They had demanded that the sage could marry the teenager if he could dig up a lake for her with his nails over night. The sage was just about to accomplish the impossible feat when he was tricked by gods. It is said that the sage was the incarnation of Lord Shiva and the teenager was the embodiment of Ma Parvati. It is predicted that they would return again and then there would be upheaval in the universe. The poem 'Lost Love' depicts the pathos of the two!
LOST LOVE
It's for love
So much was at stake
With nails was done
The digging of the lake
The sage felt no pain
For love-pang-ache
But her parent's promises
Just turned out to be fake
And the virgin and the sage
Could never ever make
To the nuptial altar
Just for the parent's sake-
Love reigns supreme yet
With all its heartbreak.
Maybe that’s why there were so many love-birds and married couples boating and loitering in and around the lake. Beautiful wives flanked by handsome husbands. It was pure pleasure to see those picture perfect couples enjoying the blissful moments. Pradip, very emotionally, told me that he missed his wife. I said that was bound to be. That was natural influence of the place.
A bit sad over our being alone, we came out and started window-shopping in Nakhi Bazaar where Pradip bought some gifts for his wife and one-year daughter Sanvi. It was getting dark and as a result of our two-day loitering I was feeling throbbing pain in my legs. I told pradip to call it a day and return to our room. He told me one thing still remained. I asked what it was. He made a sign for “drinking” with his straightened thumb and bent fingers. We went to the one and only wine shop near Nakhi bazaar. There was a maddening crowd there. Pradip disappeared in the crowd and when he emerged from it again, he was carrying two bottles of Bagpiper whisky, one in each hand. He beckoned me to follow him towards the backyard of the shop. I thought we would take bottles to our room and drink there. I couldn’t think of drinking in front of so many people inside and more passing on the road. Pradip arranged the tables and glasses, poured the whisky into glasses and mixed water. When our glasses touched each other for the cheers, we were joined by another fellow. Fortunately he happened to be Jadeja. Manharsinh Jadeja. He came there as a driver to one Ganatra family. After leaving them at the hotel, he was free to enjoy. It need not write that Pradip struck a rapport with him and soon they were talking about their common friends.
I was quite normal and following their conversation till we finished one bottle. The second made me lose control over myself. Not that I was struggling to stand. But I started hearing a lot of noise, all variety of voices mixed into one another. I was not able to distinguish them. Pradip and Manharsinh were talking and I was watching them minus their voices. When I complained about the noise and told them that I couldn’t listen to them, their faces broke into silent laughter. I moved my face to have a panoramic view of the surroundings and I could feel that everything was moving rather slow, like slow-moving reel of a film or like the waving TV screen during low electricty.
I remember clearly that Manharsinh held my arm while returning so that I don’t fall down till we reached the bus stop. And I was so thankful to him for the service he rendered that while departing I hugged him not once or twice but three times before I got into the bus!!! There was nothing that I could do after reaching the room except fall asleep. When I woke up next morning I had regained the senses. But there was splitting headache in form of hang-over. I sat on the bed rubbing my head.
“Good Morning” Came Pradip's voice from his bed.
“ Good Morning….Where is the second bottle?” I asked.
“ What rubbish! Are you still intoxicated. Don’t you remember we finished off both of them?”
I scratched my head. Then took my brush and toothpaste and moved towards the bathroom
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The phrase "A MOVEABLE FEAST" was used by Ernest Hemingway to mean the memory of a spendid place that continues to go with the moving traveller for the rest of life, after he has had the experience of it and gone away. The author used the term A Moveable Feast for the title of his late-life memoirs of his early life as a stuggling writer in Paris, in the 1920s. He said to a friend: "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.
You want to do something you love to do, but you don’t do that. What does it suggest? As for me: Sheer Idleness. I am not being philosophical. I am just talking about writing this blog. I wanted to write when I came back from Mount Abu and Udaipur. I wanted to write again when I came back from my tour to Tulsishyam and Diu with my childhood friends Anil, Arvind, their wives Kajalbhabhi and Divyabhabhi and wonderful kids Drashti, Darshan, and Deepal. But I didn’t. Obviously there is pleasure in shirking what you are supposed to do.
The other day I got a call from my friend Pradip. Full name Pradipsinh Jadeja. He is not popular as my friend. Actually he is elder brother to my college friend Dashrath, but Dashrath lost all contacts with me for a long time, but Pradip didn’t. And as a result he is more closer to me now than his brother Dashrath. On the day I am talking about he seemed restless from the way he talked:
“ Half of the vacation has already gone and now I’m having itchy feet!”
(ગુજરાતીમા એના શબ્દો હતાઃ "મને પગમા કીડી ચડી રહી છે.")
“Where do you plan to go?” I asked
“Anywhere”
“ What about Kolkata?”
“ Don’t have that much time. It will take six days just in traveling. My school will open on 22nd this month”
“ Then let’s move around the coastal area of Gujarat on bike”
“ I want to move out of Gujarat”
“ Mt Abu?”
“ That sounds better”
“ Done?”
“ Done”
After a tiring night journey, we reached Abu Road at noon and rented a room in Gujarati Samaj. The manager told us not to visit Mt Abu that day and instead advised to visit Ambaji first. I came to know about Ambaji during my stay in Ahmdedabad. I have seen people walking down to this pilgrimage centre from far away places like Ahmedabad which is around 200 kms away. Really an arduous journey. When we reached Ambaji, I was shocked to see the number of people thronging at the place. I like religious people. All I hate is the pretension of being religious that many people indulges in. Whenever I go to temple( which is very rare), I make sure I bow down to the idols of gods or goddesses. Pradip asks: why? I say: If they are kind enough to allow atheists like me inside the temple, I have no qualm in bowing down to gods. And besides I don’t want to offend anyone by behaving in a manner that seems awkward in the temple.
When I was in Hyderabad one day there happened a very long discussion on mobile this subject of God between Mita, one of my recent friends, and me.
M : But what is your problem with god? Why do you hate him?
I : I never hated god. And even if I ever hated Him, I don’t hate him now.
M : But still you don’t believe in God. Why?
I : God is a concept created by people. So many people believe in him does not mean that I should also believe in him.
M : Is it just a concept? Don’t you see there is someone, some supernatural power high above us who controls us, this earth, the sun, the moon, the stars and in fact this entire cosmos. How can you think that all this happens without anyone to control it?
I : So you think it is God who controls us?
M : Who else can do that?
I : Nature
M : Everything is same. You are just using different terminology.
I : No, everything is not same. Nature is Nature. It is not God. We think of god mostly with regard to PAAP (bad deeds) and PUNYA (good deeds). We think there is a god high above us who keeps records of all our good and bad deeds and punishes or rewards us according to that. Nature doesn’t make such distinction. For Nature everything is same. No distinction. No PAAP or PUNYA, no Punishments or Rewards. It is just that you need to be fit to live in this world, if you are not you are going to die. Many wonderful species like dinosaurs have vanished from the surface of this world for one or the other reasons.humanbeings will also survive on this earth as long as we are fit to live on this earth or anywhere in this cosmos.
M : And your Nature works automatically? Without anyone’s support?
I : Nature is alive. It is self-reliant. It doesn’t need anyone’s support. Even
before men came on this earth, trees used to grow. was there anyone to water the
the saplings or sow the seeds at that time?
M : But if there is no god, no punishments or rewards then why should people be good
others?
I : We should be good to others not for the fear of being judged by god one day; we should be good to others because as thinking human beings we should realise that it is the ideal thing to do, morally and ethically. As humanbeing I know that I suffer pain when I am ill-treated. That knowledge tells me that I should treat others in the same way I want to be treated by them.
M : But not all people can be so great to think so high..
I : That is the case at present. Not all people understand this. Terrorists don’t
understand this. Who will punish them. God? No. It will be done by us. By laws. Laws created by us , not by Gods. There are strict laws in any nations to regulate people, to make sure they honour GOOD and don’t follow BAD.
M : So you don’t hate God because you think there is no God at all.
I : In fact, I would be the happiest person if someone proves to me that there is
God. I like the qualities that are attached with the god: omnipresent, omnipotent, omniscient, kind, liberal, taking care of all, a really father figure…that’s why I don’t hate god. It is poor thing that there is no God. That makes me sad. I wish there was one, because in his absence I see no rhyme or reason or poetic justice in this world. In his presence, the world would have been a better place to live.
I am going off the track. Now I am coming back to Ambaji…After visiting the main temple of Ma Amba, we went to Gabbar. I was happy to see the rope-way. People were calling it “Udan Khatola”. What a nice word! I wanted to go by rope-way, but Pradip wanted to take stairs. He promised me we would return in Udan Khatola which we did. Besides these places we also visited Koteshwar and Kumbhadiya Jain Temple. The marble temples at Kumbhadiya were awesome. Pradip was so struck with the beautiful carving in the marble that he exclaimed that no humanbeing could create this temple. Only god alone could have done that.
The next day we went to Mount Abu. We hired a bike from the a shop in front of the bus- stand so that we could take our own time to visit all those beautiful places: Gurushikahar, Achalgarh, Delwara temples, Adhar devi, Nakki( Nakhi) lake and sun-set point. All these places have their own beauty, but I liked Nakhi lake a lot. There are different versions of its creation. One version says it was created by Balam Rasia (or Rasia Balam) with his nails just in one night’s time. Balam Rasia was an aged sage who fell in love with a teenage girl, kunwari kanya of the king of Mt Abu. The two lovelorn souls were prevented from tying their love in a nuptial knot, by the scheming parents and their conniving Gods. They had demanded that the sage could marry the teenager if he could dig up a lake for her with his nails over night. The sage was just about to accomplish the impossible feat when he was tricked by gods. It is said that the sage was the incarnation of Lord Shiva and the teenager was the embodiment of Ma Parvati. It is predicted that they would return again and then there would be upheaval in the universe. The poem 'Lost Love' depicts the pathos of the two!
LOST LOVE
It's for love
So much was at stake
With nails was done
The digging of the lake
The sage felt no pain
For love-pang-ache
But her parent's promises
Just turned out to be fake
And the virgin and the sage
Could never ever make
To the nuptial altar
Just for the parent's sake-
Love reigns supreme yet
With all its heartbreak.
Maybe that’s why there were so many love-birds and married couples boating and loitering in and around the lake. Beautiful wives flanked by handsome husbands. It was pure pleasure to see those picture perfect couples enjoying the blissful moments. Pradip, very emotionally, told me that he missed his wife. I said that was bound to be. That was natural influence of the place.
A bit sad over our being alone, we came out and started window-shopping in Nakhi Bazaar where Pradip bought some gifts for his wife and one-year daughter Sanvi. It was getting dark and as a result of our two-day loitering I was feeling throbbing pain in my legs. I told pradip to call it a day and return to our room. He told me one thing still remained. I asked what it was. He made a sign for “drinking” with his straightened thumb and bent fingers. We went to the one and only wine shop near Nakhi bazaar. There was a maddening crowd there. Pradip disappeared in the crowd and when he emerged from it again, he was carrying two bottles of Bagpiper whisky, one in each hand. He beckoned me to follow him towards the backyard of the shop. I thought we would take bottles to our room and drink there. I couldn’t think of drinking in front of so many people inside and more passing on the road. Pradip arranged the tables and glasses, poured the whisky into glasses and mixed water. When our glasses touched each other for the cheers, we were joined by another fellow. Fortunately he happened to be Jadeja. Manharsinh Jadeja. He came there as a driver to one Ganatra family. After leaving them at the hotel, he was free to enjoy. It need not write that Pradip struck a rapport with him and soon they were talking about their common friends.
I was quite normal and following their conversation till we finished one bottle. The second made me lose control over myself. Not that I was struggling to stand. But I started hearing a lot of noise, all variety of voices mixed into one another. I was not able to distinguish them. Pradip and Manharsinh were talking and I was watching them minus their voices. When I complained about the noise and told them that I couldn’t listen to them, their faces broke into silent laughter. I moved my face to have a panoramic view of the surroundings and I could feel that everything was moving rather slow, like slow-moving reel of a film or like the waving TV screen during low electricty.
I remember clearly that Manharsinh held my arm while returning so that I don’t fall down till we reached the bus stop. And I was so thankful to him for the service he rendered that while departing I hugged him not once or twice but three times before I got into the bus!!! There was nothing that I could do after reaching the room except fall asleep. When I woke up next morning I had regained the senses. But there was splitting headache in form of hang-over. I sat on the bed rubbing my head.
“Good Morning” Came Pradip's voice from his bed.
“ Good Morning….Where is the second bottle?” I asked.
“ What rubbish! Are you still intoxicated. Don’t you remember we finished off both of them?”
I scratched my head. Then took my brush and toothpaste and moved towards the bathroom
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The phrase "A MOVEABLE FEAST" was used by Ernest Hemingway to mean the memory of a spendid place that continues to go with the moving traveller for the rest of life, after he has had the experience of it and gone away. The author used the term A Moveable Feast for the title of his late-life memoirs of his early life as a stuggling writer in Paris, in the 1920s. He said to a friend: "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast.
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