Alternate Vision

While attempting to cleanse my hardrive and purge the non-sensical trash that I've accumulated over the years, I stumbled upon an old document that brightened up what was an otherwise boring day. I thought I'd share Anjalli Ravikumar's tales of travel and work through the south of India (Kerala and Tamil Nadu) with the blogsphere. I sincerely hope she will not take offense to me publishing her work on the net without her consent. Oh well, enjoy...

Kaadhal idha dhan idha dhan……….

As I woke up to Adnand Sami’s heavily anglicized superhit number from Kollywoods’ latest superflop- “ Boys”, there was no sense of disorientation whatsoever. My Volvo A/C Sleeper Bus fitted with state- of the art in-bus entertainment technology had reached it’s destination- The Koyembedu Tamil Nadu Omni Bus Stand . The swarm of auto drivers waiting for the assault only served to remind me that Kerala was a whole state away. Sigh.

No more would I ride through rubber plantations on my distributor salesman’s Kawasaki Bajaj. No more would the waiters in restaurants serve me hot drinking water in the seven colours of the rainbow. No more would I get couriers addressed to ‘ Madam Anjally Revikumar’. No more would I cross bridges over backwaters on my way to work. No more would I find chunks of pineapple in my paneer butter masala…….

Although I didn’t have too many friends in Kerala, I loved every inch of what I saw of it (and ate). It’s hard to imagine why millions of Malayalees live in the Gulf when you’re a tourist in Kerala. The ‘Gulfies’ have bought up all the hot waterfront properties, built sprawling mansions in the middle of nowhere and even started chains of ‘Dubai Shoppes’ for when they finally return. Till that dreaded day (when Kerala will have many times more people than coconut trees), I hope I get a chance to go back.

It’s not just the fact that it’s more beautiful than all the pictures in the resort brochures. It’s the fact they have clean, open, airy buses that always have place to sit and are rarely seen at an angle of 30 degrees to the road. It’s the fact that everyone enjoys a certain minimum standard of living. It’s the fact that the toilets in the wayside restaurants are clean enough for me not to have to hold my breath for one minute and ten seconds like I usually have to. The fact that the average Malayalam movie plot requires the viewer to have a brain.

Here’s a little bit from my first real sales experience in cashew country – Quilon . For 3 weeks post Onam , I was posted in Quilon where an executive of ours had quit to join Onida. My job was- ‘to close the sale of 3000 appliances in three weeks no matter what.’ With this brief brief in hand , I landed up at Whirlpool’s distributor’s office in Quilon- Quilon Radio Service. QRS is owned by a family that originally hails from Kovilpetti in neighbouring Tamil Nadu. Their cost consciousness has ensured that roughly half the staff members including the 65-year old diabetic manager are from Kovilpetti so thankfully, language was never an issue for me. The organization structure of QRS is as follows- Mani Annacchi lords over 5 salesmen- 2 for Whirlpool, 1 for Nokia ,2 for Philips, 3 drivers, and 3 office girls, 1 watchman and several others whose job role is not specific. It’s a very flat organization. But as with any, there are ‘seniors’ and ‘juniors’ and ‘relics’ that included the toothless, bespectacled Dalghat Kaka who must be close to a hundred. He is the Godown-in Charge and is the sweetest relic about the place. Another special character is Saluja Madam who has a ‘Malayalee –with –a-cold’ accent to –die- for.“ Lekshmi Elegrigals und Elegdronigs dodal oudsdanding iss egual to seero”. Annacchi’s Personal assistant number three was still in training when I landed up. It took me three whole days to stop giggling everytime I called the office from a dealers place at 12 in the afternoon only to hear Jayalakshmi answer the phone saying- “ Goodeevening QRS”. Radheesh and Sadheesh, my Tweedle dum and Tweedle dee also doubled up as my ‘sales boys’ and I was their- I’m- not- sure- what. My chief task was to motivate them to go out and lay their lives down for Whirlpool’s cause .I don’t know if it was because I was the first lady/woman/girl to ride pillion on their bikes or if I actually said something highly inspirational, but whatever it was, it worked. We booked orders for 3011 Whirlpool Applainces and treated ourselves to Alleppey fish biriyani to celebrate the momentous occasion.

Not that every meal wasn’t an occasion. Fish Biriyani, Meen Curry, Crab Masala, Neimeen Fry, Shrimp Fried Rice, Prawn Chemmeen and Trivandrum Chicken Corner’s coconut-oil–fried Chicken and ‘Chappatty’. Malayalee food has turned many ‘Puttars’ like me into very happy carnivores. My visit to Varkala- God’s Own sunkissed seaside getaway, left me tanned and in love. When there’s Kerala- why go elsewhere?

Eu vou sem nenhuma direcção,
E eu sou não preciso nada mais,
Lua, estrela, meu caminho meu destino,
Lua, sol, me dá o seu calor,
Chuva, o seu olhar,
Que me dá o seu calor, que me dá a direcção,
Que me dá o meu valor, que me dá o seu calor,
Eu vou eu vou, eu sou eu sou,
Eu vou eu vou, sem nenhuma direcção

They started off as just another D.C band, turned down several major labels only to sign up with ESL, were inspired by K&D and now freaking own the world. If you think DJ Kicks and Cosmic Game are the center of your existence then think again. Their accompanying live band throws such a drastic, embellishing twist to their signature "21st century lounge" style you can't NOT move to their music. Their music embodies what I believe is contemporary world music in this day and age. Only they can fuse together the seductive sound of a sitar, the crisp beat of a doumbek, a tabla, a Brazilian vocalist and mix it all up with dub-reggae to give you a rare strand of downtempo music that could easily find common ground amogst dope pushers, sober listeners, trip-hoppers and me:)

To me, the Lagos of today is infinitely different from the Lagos of the yester years. Amongst all the memories I hold dear to myself, my times with a certain group of people have been tatooed to my memory. Jai Daswani was one of them. Ever second spent with Jackie was always an unpredictable moment, nothing short of exhilirating. To say that he was like a blood brother to me would be an understatement. A time came when we parted ways in our lives and never really kept close touch. Yet, he was one of those individuals who you could meet after years and simply pick up where you left off.

Jackie passed away early this morning after meeting with a motorcycle accident in Pune, India. My heart goes out to his family and his girlfriend Rashi. Deepest sympathies to all those knew him. You will be missed bro, you certainly will.

"Number theory is the type of math that describes the swirl in the head of a sunflower and the curve of a chambered nautilus. Bhargava says it's also hidden in the rhythms of classical Indian music, which is both mathematical and improvisational" NPR

Also, check out the link to Bhargava's insights on how the number theory can be linked to poetry, visual art and the 'da vinci code.' The fibonnaci sequence, also known as Hemachandra numbers, turns up frequently in nature. In highschool, I remember being blown away by how the constant phi gives the most "efficient and scalable packing" for circular objects- petals, seeds etc. Bhargava is going one step further by studying how tabla science uses this sequence to determine the number of possible combinations of single and double length beats within a stanza. Genius is not the word. I need to put the book I am reading down now and pick up Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An inquiry into values. While trying to read up about all this, I discovered Sepia Mutiny; blog worth checking out.

NPR rocks my world.

Meditation is a mental exercise that has always intrigued me, yet something I have never experiemented with; not yet atleast. Well, by a simple definition of meditation we have all meditated at some point in our lives. But, the art of controlling the mind and using calming and insight meditation to gain wisdom has always intrigued me. Different religious disciplines employ different techniques to focus the mind and take it beyond the random realm of thought that preoccupy our consciousness on a daily basis. Hindus use slokas and mantras for this, while other disciplines use numerous other approaches. I have felt an increasing urge to learn more about these different techniques and hence decided to read up on some of them, mainly to understand the difference between the Buddhist and Hindu approaches to tranquilize our mind to a state of receptivity. Having barely embarked on this mini-project, I can confidently say nothing significant has been achieved; rather, I have just discovered the vastness associated with this process of purifying the mind. Thurman, in his book Essential Tibetan Buddhism discusses some of these differences, but not so directly. They have to be discerned carefully.

Buddhists believe that that the goals identified with the "psychic" state of mind that results from practising other systems of meditation is much different from the object of Buddhist meditation.
"The fact that mystics of every religion have induced on themselves states wherein they see visions and hear voices that are in accordance with their own religious beliefs indicates that their meditation has resulted only in bringing to the surface of the mind and objectifying the concepts already embedded in the deepest strata of their subconscious minds."

This is where that difference lies because a Buddhist sees such "visions" as mere by-products of meditation and a sign that he has only succeeded in objectifying a concept in his mind and not much more. "The purpose of Buddhist meditation, therefore, is to gain more than an intellectual understanding of this truth, to liberate ourselves from the delusion and thereby put an end to both ignorance and craving. If the meditation does not produce results tending to this consummation - results which are observable in the character and the whole attitude to life - it is clear that there is something wrong either with the system or with the method of employing it." These are some of principles that guide Vipassana meditation. Though, my mother (whom I briefly discussed this with) argues that the ultimate transcendent state of meditation in Hinduism too is completely formless and that the eventual goal and purpose of it is not far-fetched from that of Buddhism. Also, the focus of Hindu meditation is often times different.

To what degree this is true I don't know. By no means am I endorsing one form over another, just trying to understand the difference. The quest continues.

I donated all my high school science textbooks to half price books. I must've used them once in the last four years. The folks from Salvation Army will be coming to collect some old clothes tomorrow afternoon.I have to be up at 8am to set up an appointment for them to come by. Mleh. Kitchen stuff, books, drum and art work go out tomorrow. My collection of spices has quadrupled over the last few months. If I cook for more than two hours my appetite dissapears. I spent 3 hours in the kitchen yesterday; loved it. I prefer cooking for others any day to cooking just for myself. I should throw dinners more often. K's books and pictures finally went out today; its going by boat but still cost me a fortune. We had our last gig tonight at Momo's which turned out to be our best performance thus far. I was told they recorded us live and so a CD should be expected, but not for a few months. Here's two videos of us at the waterloo taken with an Optio S. Their decent, nothing special. Daniel on the djembe and talking drum (both solo parts) in each video respectively. Am in a blah mood. I wanna see her once more before I leave.

From first appearance, all I told myself was "he hasn't changed one bit." Insults you with a smile, and then pays for everything. The harami in you will never die, I pray; that and the sindhi too:) But a few martinis later, the change hit me. A sense of maturity that you would never have associated with this man before and an uncanny wisdom to go with it that I couldn't put my finger on. Change is inevitable, but to discern subtle changes after seeing someone who was (and still is) like a brother to you after what feels like eons is always entertaining. Bobomi, it was flipping great to see you. Good luck in Dubai this summer and inshallah we go meet up sha? What of Beirut? Apun ingeneer ban gaya!

It started off as a mundane Monday morning; the usual at work. As the afternoon progessed, however, with the outdoor weather being as seductive as ever, I found myself sitting at Campbell's hole with book in hand and negro modello in the other; I couldn't have asked for more. At some stage I realized that attempting to comprehend the essence of Tibetan Buddhism while sitting around half naked hippies wasn't going to happen. That, and it was probably immoral. Having resigned to this truth, I decided to seek out something else to preoccupy my time with. This is when my attention was grabbed by the quaint sound of the didgeridoo and what turned out to be the highlight of my afternoon.

What happened to me this afternoon, I like to believe, was preordained. Omid Laridjani, clad in what I presumed was the traditional garb of the aborogines, was seated crosslegged beside this rock with didgeridoo in hand. In a state of utmost attention, he went on to sound his instrument and put on this super-human display of circular breathing (technique used to play it) that left me nothing short of stupified. The first chance I had, obviously I introduced myself and within minutes we were knee deep in converstaion; mostly him sharing his 'infinite wisdom.' His presence puts you in what I can only describe as a heightened state of awareness. He talked about the discipline of learning and playing the didgeridoo and his dedication towards this over the last few years. He is Iranian, has lived in the US for a while and happens to be a fellow nomad. To add to this exotism, he is fluent in Portuguese. Having discovered this, a fundamental connection was formed, instantaneously. It was like we shared a common purpose in life, part of which involved communicating our thoughts, feelings and knowledge through song and dance.

Omid is an authority on aboriginal culture, the didgeridoo and happens to be adopted into a certain tribe in Australia. It is there that he mastered the art of playing the didgeridoo and dedicated himself to studying their culture. Enough said, I urge you to read more about this inspirational being here.

Traditionally, an Aborigine would go into nature and listen intensely to animal sounds, not just voices but also the flapping of wings or the thump of feet on the ground. The Aborigine would also listen to the sounds of wind, thunder, trees creaking, and water running. The essences of all these sounds were played with as much accuracy as possible within the droning sound of the didjereedoo. For the Aborigine, the observation of nature immediately requires a state of empathy, which leads to am imitative expression.

My only regret about the afternoon was that I didn't have my drum on me.

sagacity : The quality of being discerning, sound in judgment, and farsighted; wisdom.

I wish I had known that the mango custard at Clay Pitt was so good, instead I overdosed on the korma, butter naan and maakhi daal. Either way, I can barely keep my eyes open now. Not to mention the last few days have been out of control. That endless continuum of events I was ranting about earlier hasn't really found an end and has effectively denied me of any spare time to collect my thoughts, sleep well or remain composed. It all started off on an innocent wed evening when Karan dragged Rishab and I to Spider House to listen to Polaris spin. One thing led to another and within an hour we had made it past three martinis. We should've seen it coming all along. Its a good thing that I am done with school today; atleast for another four months. I learned about the Baye Fall while sipping on some Warsteiner and Bell Haven with the crew yesterday, which btw are my new favorite beers. Some disciples of the Fall who come from Senegal believe that they are the original rastafarians and are considered outcasts by some. They tend to be fundamentalists with a conservative take on things in general. In other news I have been thinking about dedicating myself to studying Vipassana for a number of reasons. But, this probably will not happen until the fall. More on this later.

Cengiz burnt me a copy of the Rosetta Stone application software and a Turkish language data CD to go with it. Kiz, Oglan, Araba is all I have learned. Once the dust settles after the imminent storm this weekend I will pick up and start properly. Oh and I got my Staj (internship work visa for Turkey). Also, here's to Gowri for keeping me thoroughly entertained this afternoon. I cant wait to meet you and Ayush soon:)

We're performing at the Waterloo tonight.

Could it have been more perfect, my evening that is? Possibly not. If only it could have continued that way and never stopped, well maybe to switch from a caipirinha to a caipiroska. Moqueca Bahiana com Salmon e muito mais. A little over a week left. Ah the joys of being caught up in the vortex of one's own desire. How is that Sid remembers my dad's birthday before I do? Happy Birthday pa!

Am I destined not to see Antibalas ever? For the first time ever they are coming to Austin, but just after I leave. I could try and catch them on the day I fly into Boston on May 14th but that would require me to haul ass from the airport. I may have to just pull it off; their music means that much to me. Oh and if youre in NYC, they are performing this weekend.

The last two weeks have been spectacular, action packed and quite memorable to say the least. Yet, it all seems like one big blur to me. Maybe because so much has happened and each day has almost bled into the next, I haven't had the time to reflect upon any of it. Between hosting family and friends and finishing up my last set of reports time has flown by, and in its wake I find myself overcome by a sense of gratitude mingled with hints of sadness and nervousness.

Chapman and Meghz' visit was a little less surreal. Got to show off Austin to them, do the things that I love doing in Austin. Trudy's, Sabas, my favorite coffee shops, south-indian breakfast (I haven't had filter coffee in ages), Eeyore's, Pecan Street Festival, Town lake..and so on. After our 15 minute stop over at Adam's place, Chap was like "he is my favorite so far."I know this because he put together a blue-grass CD with a cello in it just so Adam could start playing his newly acquired Cello. I believe one of the bones in my palm is badly bruised thanks to the unhealthy amounts of drumming this past week. its gotten more black n blue since yesterday. I need some of the ointment that Mrs. Tong offered me or to see a doctor if I hope to play at the Waterloo Ice House this Friday. To top this weekend's awesomeness I got to see Rishab last night. Never have I enjoyed catching up with an old friend so much. Trudy's is on the immediate agenda, but we shall wait for Miki to show up before toasting to this fool. What more could I ask for in my last two weeks in Austin? Well, maybe the company of a few other special people including my 'rents. I still haven't found a worthy enough book on Turkey to read. I need sleep.