The daunting genius of Gabriel Garcia Marquez

Posted on April 18, 2014 by Raghav/Raghu
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Some of his books in my library

Gabriel Garcia Marquez died yesterday, at 87. As he would have said, time puts things in their place.

This is no eulogy to him- I am too small to be eulogizing him. Small in the literary sense of his intimidating grandeur. I shall forever remain a parasite who will feed on his works, pretending to derive inspiration from them, while hardly relishing them to the fullest- never being able to savour each word and every utterance in his works.

Many who have read Marquez will concur to my claim that it was not simply the story that stands out, but like any other artistic genius, it was his style. You could hand out a passage from his work and it wouldn’t be hard to notice the style that remains true to him. As with the case of modern writers who have their own style that is hard to miss. Of the likes of Saramago and Orhan Pamuk, if not greater than them, Marquez is easily as good as them.

I discovered Marquez quite late in my life. I am a late blossomed reader for that matter. When I heard a friend talk about Gabriel Garcia Marquez in the line of many authors he was quoting to me, of course I missed his long name too- it never registered in my head.

In India, we have plenty of book stores where one can shop used books. The aroma of those stained pages and the warmth of racks and racks of books is few of the spiritual experiences to me. So, in one such store, I had my rendezvous with a book that caught my attention simply for its title ‘The General in his labyrinth’. The author’s stature or his profile still did not impress upon me. Read the gist and sounded like an good historical piece to me- to me it was then a book about the fall and decline of Simon Bolivar. Seemed interesting. And most importantly I love the word ‘labyrinth’, it has a sound to it, clearly representative of its meaning.

I started the book almost immediately and I was getting nowhere. It was the hardest book I had read till then. Not because the language was sophisticated, or the plot was contrived. That which I found obscure was the essence of Marquez’s writing. I took a long time to complete the relatively thin book. But by the end of it, I wanted more of Gabriel Garcia Marquez.

By then I had also realized who the author was, in the context of the role he had played in the world of words.

Even today, while I have read most of his popular works, ‘The General in his labyrinth’ remains my personal favorite. As you would realize, because of the intimate experience I have had with that work.

The eternal genius of Pablo Neruda, Jose Saramago and Gabriel Garcia Marquez have been the unstoppable force that has made the world take notice and give heed to the non-English literary scene.

With Marquez’s demise, although none of them live on in our world, we can forever live in their worlds.
Love.

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The servility of praying, and the futility of prayers

Posted on February 19, 2014 by Raghav/Raghu

Invariably, all religions ask people to get down on their knees for the best results

Have you noticed, all major religions prescribe you to get onto your knees when you pray to the Gods? I can’t stop being amused at the thought that all the Gods are masochistic, in the sense, they want you to be servile and be on your knees.

The ritual of praying (not talking about the purpose, as yet) but the formalities involved are appealingly archaic, and to me, quite hilarious. Why does it have to be done in that particular way? Won’t the omnipresent Almighty address your prayers when you remember him, let’s say while you are wasting your time in the bus, or in the toilet? The God created the world, and set out the rules – and I am sure going by all the traits attributed to him, he would not mind you talking to him while you poop.

While this might sound a blasphemy to some of you, all I am asking you is to think with a morsel of gray matter that might reside in your skull. The act, however unnecessary it might be, why does it have to be done the way it is prescribed in some obsolete rule book? Can’t you personalise your God and talk to him whenever and however you want!

Now, the concept of praying (that is, when you think it worked for you), I believe is a kind of boomerang placebo effect: You shift the burden onto the all powerful God, and seek help, losing track of how you ended up in a particular bad state. Now the hope of divine intervention, helps you to irresponsibly stop worrying. And because maybe you worry less, there are chances a particular issue gets resolved. So, when you have a burden, you pass it on to a fictitious person, feel light and sometimes feel more prepared to bear the burden when it comes back to you.

Another bothersome aspect of people praying to a divine entity is the sheer amount of time that has gone in vain. If all that time were focused on working for the betterment of the world, it would be a lot better. Instead of praying to the Gods, go help out someone in need (become their God), or sow a plant daily, or propagate knowledge. Unfortunately, many of the popular God-beings or the prophets set out on spreading knowledge to others, got caught in the ignorance of the masses, who elevated them to the stature of God. I would be very very upset if that happened to me.

While you might argue praying is harmless, you could harm less by not praying to a God, who answers your prayer saying only He is true, while other Gods are pirated versions. Quite silly ain’t all of it. Heh.

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Deteriorating political climate

Posted on February 14, 2014 by Raghav/Raghu

Debates are getting narrower, opinions are attacked, facts fabricated and a framework to crush sensible ideas is getting ready, as if to embrace the peril that is at the horizon. These are symptoms of the ultra nationalism and pseudo patriotism that is swelling in India, with every growing day.

Definitive terms like secular, which is part of the preamble of Indian constitution, declaring the Indian state is being maligned to imply that it is an endorsement of a dynastic, neo-liberal political party – Indian National Congress(INC), to garner opposition by the Hindutva chauvinist political fraternity of the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP).

It is unfortunate that the most visible choices as the majority of the population in India see is to choose between these two Right-wing extremist parties. While the INC is not religious fundamentalist in ideology, of course it capitalises on the religious sentiments, plus the strong neo-liberal strategies that has in the last two ruling terms staggered inclusive growth in India. Indices like the GDP, or annual growth of averaging 8% might seem laudable, the inherent problem of disparity has only been aggravated. In aligning with corporate interests, over the pressing need to alleviate its population’s inflation and basic needs, clearly a an extremist party it is.

The opposition party, and the party that now is in a self-made trend of rising to power in the general elections – BJP is all that INC is, with added sourness of Hindutva fundamentalism. With factions like the RSS, VHP, Bajrang Dal pompously dismissing free speech, and trampling opinions at all strata – from Twitter bashing to Facebook mauling, censoring books to ransacking art shows, to recently throwing tomatoes and harrassing couples on Valentine’s day, their arsenal is full and intent is dangerously clear. With only the promise of model like that of Gujarat and an exorbitantly expensive statue of Sardar Patel, there has been all but highfalutin imbecile agenda for making India into a super-power.

The most disturbing aspect of this crisis to me, is the resonance of a many supporters of BJP, who are template-trolls, custom designed and trained to tackle the opposition that they are faced with. Contorting of facts, figures and History has never been so rampant in India. This is certainly a fascist tendency – must be curbed before we make Orwellian prophecy true again: “He who controls the past controls the future. He who controls the present controls the past”.

As a short respite to the confused middle-class, NGO activists a model of uncooked anarchy and reactionary revolution in the form of Aam Aadmi Party did take shape. And by AAP’s own behaviour are getting discredited – the protestors are protesting even after coming to power.

People, who assume to know me, conclude that my proposed solution is to vote and bring Left parties to power – No. For that is not their intent, and it is not pragmatic, as yet.

The lethargy of six decades has gotten into the social fabric. All we need is a purge and reboot.

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Reading “Spartacus” – The original gladiator

Posted on February 7, 2014 by Raghav/Raghu

 

Spartacus.
I strongly recommend it as a book you must read, and at the earliest opportunity. Irrespective of what your reading inclinations have been, this one is an account of human struggle that every one of us ought to know.

It is one of those rare books that leave you changed, moved in many ways, and quintessentially disturbed.

The book is the undocumented history of the slave uprising in the Roman empire under the leadership of a gladiator – Spartacus. A powerful book that in its barest form talks of the constant struggle between the oppressors and the oppressed, and the human values of freedom, hope and the spirit of life.

The narrative is quite brilliant too, wherein there is really never direct tale unfolding by the protagonist – Spartacus, but mostly a reminiscent account from the antagonists, Spartacus’ wife, comrades of the revolt and a vivid description by the author. More strikingly, towards the end of the book Varinia, Spartacus’ wife makes equal impact on the readers although the tale is about Spartacus. Many of the conversations instilled into the narrative are timeless – most of the political talks and the struggle described are quite valid even to this day.

I further discovered that this powerful book by Howard Fast, was a strong response by him during the McCarthy era in the US. Fast was imprisoned for three years for his involvement with the Communist Party in the USA. He published the book without a publisher, for no one would partner with Fast.

And the result is this brilliant book, written more than six decades ago and still runs shivers down the spine when read. Not the images of the gore, or the war that is succinctly described in the book, but the thought that we now live in a world that is built upon these atrocities softens me. And the thought that even now circumstances are not any different to many bothers, and infuriates me.

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How is it for you in India?

Posted on December 24, 2013 by Raghav/Raghu

This question actually had me off guard and unprepared – how is it for you in India? It was a broader question as to how it was in general for people in India. This inquiry came from two different people – once from a Danish elderly woman, and second time from a migrant from Jordan who was living in Austria.

When faced with this question, both the times I did not have a ready opinion based on my experience to be delivered as an answer.

When the Danish woman asked me, the context of the question was about family and bonding – it was then that I answered it even to myself. “It is quite natural for us to live with our parents for really long years, and it is considered the norm unlike in the West. This might also imply that the bonding within the family is deeper, and of course sometimes comes at the expense of independence of many of us”. The woman, who was returning from her daughter’s home, with her life long experience was quick to respond, “We leave our parents latest by 20. I did when I was 19. This does not mean the bonding fades away. We are very affectionate throughout our lives”. It seemed to me later my comment had somehow made her think I had said that they lack bonding in the West, which I hadn’t.

Secondly, a man, frail one, without looking into my eyes called out a “Haelo”, as I was peeping out of the window admiring the power of seas. I greeted him warmly, not knowing if he was expecting me to continue the conversation, and if so, whether he expected it to be in German or Danish, while we were on the ferry crossing borders. I spoke next, in English, relieving myself of the repeated embarrassment of having to say I did not know their local language.

I do not guess on people’s nationality, I am no good at it, and I think that would have to be based on mental stereotypes that one makes. We spoke initially, asking basic questions about each of our whereabouts and the weirdness of the train being ferried across shores. He first asked me, as so many have “Are you from Pakistan?”, and I responded, “Almost, I am from India!”. After a pause of few seconds, I reciprocate the inquiry, he says “I am from Jordan”, and I did not quite get it immediately. The captured sound of his reply was playing in my head a couple of times, and then I repeated “Jordan?”, he nodded yes. He was an Arab, originally from the contentious Holy Land.

He was, like the thousands of migrants, one living in Europe – Austria, trying to make a life, a better one away from his home. He asked me “How is it for you in India?”. This time, there was no context – if this were a question asked by a Swede, I would have spoken about the cultural diversity, linguistic heterogeneity, caste (they are very curious to know why this archaic custom still exists) and the bad state of affairs in the largest democracy in the world. Coming from this man from Jordan, my answer was, almost apologetically, “We have many problems, but no war”. After I told him that, I had a realisation myself about the peace that persists in India. No military patrolling the roads. No constant curfews. No violence on the streets. No bloodshed. No worry about your loved ones being bombed. (At least as a daily routine across the country – the North East regions and Kashmir do have precisely these adverse conditions).

A sense of gratefulness, and remorse both swelled in me. It turned into anguish – one level for the conditions in many countries across the world where people live in fear, or are compelled to flee. Secondly, for the lethargy, that is sometimes such a peril, that it feels as if we Indians do not value these and have no regard whatsoever for the opportunities we have. The endemic misgovernance, systemic exploitation of the poor and the oligarchies.

We spoke some more about job prospects, life in Europe, while in the background I was contemplating the artificiality of all the misfortunes of people and the planet.

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Drag reading “Fishing in Utopia”

Posted on December 16, 2013 by Raghav/Raghu

Now that I have read it, I must admit I am left disappointed. This is one of those few books that I searched amply, and when I got hold of it was thrilled and began reading.

Fishing in Utopia, by Andrew Brown, is  basically a book that claimed it was about “Sweden and the future that disappeared”. In researching about Sweden, before I landed here, wanted to do my bit of reading. Beyond history, this book, as I then understood would have given me deeper insight into the country.

This disappointment of course arises from multitudes of reasons. The personal one being, I must have read this book when in India and I might have found it more engrossing, maybe. I got hold of the book finally here in Sweden, after a month of my stay here. And it seems that one month has been sufficient for me to learn all the nuances that I might have learned by reading this book.

Of course, other important reason is that it is not a very well written travelouge, nor a critique of the country in whatever the caption as it was supposed to be based on the projection of the book.

The dragging travelogue

For someone who relished every bit of “The Motorcycle Diaries”, maybe anyother travelogue might be less impressive. But a simple rule of reading travelogues to me is that I am either trying to learn more about the traveller, or know about the place. It turned out that “Fishing in Utopia” is with my limited experience everything a travelogue shouldn’t be about.

It has tedious anecdotes of the author’s personal life, his less than exciting interactions with strangers and a cynical view about Sweden. Now, this personal perspective he delivers throughout the book is not something I enjoyed, simply for the fact that I was not keen on learning his personal journey through Sweden. But, the fact that he delivers very little insight into the country, the nuanced country that Sweden is is gravely disappointing.

The take away from this book is that I have an idea now about how a travelogue shouldn’t be written.

Except for a couple of chapters, for instance the penultimate one Gringo, there is tedious whining of a middle aged man and a deeply cynical view about almost, everything.

Another mistake on my part would be that I totally ignored the title “Fishing” in Utopia. I presumed it was metaphorical to the plausible struggle the author had faced. It turns out he talks volumes about fishing, and that’s the only portion of his writing that was positive in any scale.

Very little of Sweden

The impetus for me to get hold of this book was to gain insight into Sweden, as an outsider. Now that seems to be the biggest flaw for the reader I was. It is a simplistic account of a cynic, delivering little or no additional insight into aspects of Sweden, after having spent decades of his life through very interesting times in Sweden.

One thing that I did like about the author though were his plentiful similes, generously sprinkled through the book. The failure of the book is not that it was incapable of delivering better content, it could have, as some of the chapters and few paragraphs overall manifested. It is the inability to have converted that potential into a richer read.

Or maybe, my expectations as a reader are unreasonable. Enough of my whining. Time to get onto my next reading.

 

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When she comes, she comes draped in white

Posted on December 8, 2013 by Raghav/Raghu

When I embraced you last night,
pressed tightly to your teats,
listening to my own heart beats,
Weren’t you as I left you, au naturel?

Your chills relieve me off my sleep,
to witness my white blindness like in Saramago’s dream,
only this time you span the wide, white cream,
You now lay clad, draped in your elegant white apparel.

Have waited for you so long,
all these years of my life, wanting to feel you, be drenched by you,
The swain in me, now found his beau in you,
As you grow every moment in shreds, weave me together my surreal.

Your slant elegant gait,
delivering those soft pecks on my face,
digging warm joy inside me, at your own lovely slow pace,
I’ll be the same, never to complain, even when you will love me a tad bit more.

 

 

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Stranded by the storm

Posted on October 31, 2013 by Raghav/Raghu

I usually don’t try to do a narrative in my posts, but this one had to be done to preserve this experience.

St.Jude as I would later discover was the storm galloping almost all of Europe. I did not have a clue of it coming, and was happily heading back home after my brief vacation near the Nuremberg region in Germany.

After three days of peaceful existence, which gave me the time and ambience to compose myself better to get back at my routine, I was all ready and rejuvenated to take up my 14 hours train travel to Goteborg.

I like Deutsche Bahn (DB), although it is deemed expensive and the prices comparable to that of flying, the experience of train changing, while savouring the best of European landscape through the window never bores me. More so, the network of DB too is very compellingly admirable. Although the trains are not exactly on time, every time (talking in few tens of minutes of delay at max), but overall the experience makes every trip memorable.

So, on this particular day, a Monday I was expecting the trains to be decently crowded and I did not reserve my seat hoping that it won’t be hard to find myself a seat through my journey. That’s a good gamble, mostly works out well. The journey ahead comprised of three train changes – one at Wurzburg, then at Hamburg and the final train at Copenhagen. Having taken this route already once, and having seen the perfect coordination between rail networks, I was worrying less about missing the trains.

The first train hop was smooth at Wurzburg. There was a gap of only 6 minutes between the trains, but the second train was late by 20 minutes; that would not have hampered my next hop because it had 50 minutes transit time in Hamburg. The train to Hamburg was noticeably crowded, and took a while for me to find a seat.

Instructions on these trains are mostly in German, and a gist only of important instructions are stated in English. I was not expecting any major instructions, hence was engrossed into my laptop. As the 200 minutes journey was approaching its end, the train pilot kept on making long comments, but none in English – so I presumed nothing important. But then, I started to observe commotion in the train and I asked my neighbours what it was – a young couple, tried to explain to me that the train although will reach its destination (Hamburg), the connecting trains might not ply due to bad weather. I kind of dismissed the idea that my train to Copenhagen was going to be cancelled, but now the train was late and I was only hoping I would not miss the train to Copenhagen because of the delay. The couple were going to Copenhagen too, and as soon as we reached Hamburg we ran to the departure notice boards to see from which platform our train was leaving, a comment next to the train entry was present in German that I did not know. The couple sighed disappointedly, I thought we had missed the train – the lady said that our train was cancelled.

Cancelled? There was nothing extreme happening all through the trip to Hamburg. All I saw was trees sway and clouds move, which was not uncommon at all. We rushed to the DB information centre to ask for alternate options – I was still hoping I could somehow make it to Copenhagen, so that I don’t miss my next train to Goteborg.

The DB Information centre was clogged with people! No queues, and when you don’t find a queue in Germany, then things are really bad!

After some streamlining, and an hour’s wait I reached the counter, the German official said that there were no trains on that route, all were cancelled because trees had disrupted tracks, and trees were falling because of heavy wind. That seemed unconvincing, and he said I would be put to stay in a hotel and I can continue travelling next morning with the same ticket. I had no other option, and it would be that two more lectures I would miss. But already I was contemplating the prospect of going around Hamburg, a city I wanted to visit and happily accepted the offer.

I step out of the station, and I hear sirens of ambulances frequently within the two minutes I was out. Across the street I see few displaced chairs and tables, and the breeze was not a breeze. The wind was heavy, but had mellowed down by the time I was out. Chairs, tables, glass panes all remained shattered – I presumed it must have been the wind. I reach my hotel and at the reception engage with them in a conversation “Is this thing common? That trains get cancelled and we are put to hotels?”. The tall receptionist dismissed the questions even before I could complete “Nay, this happened last before eight years. Heavy winds are uprooting trees, and have shut down the airports too – flights are unable to take off. Winds of 180 kmph are blowing all around. I even saw two young men lift off by the wind!”, and I was feeling weird. While I wanted to seem worried, I was feeling special that I was experiencing something that was not very common!

I get to my room, and immediately get out to see the city of Hamburg! I decide to walk, and the winds had subsided, although it was not all normal – the trauma was seen. I walked around for a couple of hours, found some yummy food and brought it back to my room. Exhausted I hit the bed to wake up early and get back on my trip.

Morning, I check that I had trains at 6.20, 9.28, 9.30 and decided to get onto the 9.28 or next one after stuffing myself heavy at the hotel breakfast. At 7 I was again at DB information centre and the queues were still there! And also some sense of disappointment floated in the train station, like a foul smell. When I found myself at the counter, the official said no trains even today. I was like, “This is now getting bad” and headed to the other counter who put me to a hotel.

The queue there really long, and more organised – I was thinking, things are under control then. After more than half an hour’s wait, I was facing the official there who said no trains today, and we will put you to a hotel again today and he wrote me off to another hotel! I asked for alternatives, he said none because the tracks were not healed yet.

I got out from there and stood facing the departure notice boards. All trains were either really later, or getting cancelled. The 9.28 train got cancelled, but the 9.30 one did not receive any comment apart from the platform number. I waited till about 9 and then headed to the platform, and saw the train just then come by and stop with Kobenhavn as the destination! That seemed weird, the official just then said no trains until tomorrow and I see this train! All passengers were of course in the same state of confusion and boarded the train. I too boarded the train hoping that I won’t be missing another day of my new quarter classes. He did start at 9.30 and the pilot seemed happy, and relieved to announce that it was the first train after storm on the route and hence we were quite full. He also reassured us that we will be reaching Copenhagen, and the passengers on train exalted with relief. Winks and smiles were exchanged with strangers, and we were all getting used to the fact that we will reach our destination.

This is the weird train that boards a ferry to cross from Germany to Denmark. I was again looking forward to this experience. How often does it happen that a train boards a ferry!

After about an hour, the pilot made an English first announcement, stating that it was important and said that the train would ply only till end of Germany and the crossing of the Baltic sea on the ferry had to be done my walk to the ferry and on the Demark side, a replacement train would be ready for us.

Now, the commotion again increased but we had no choice. I was thinking maybe I should have stayed back at Hamburg and seen the city in its entirety. I would be wishing for that more desperately as the day progressed.

After we got down at the last stop in Germany – Puttgarden, we walked up to the stairs that would lead us into the ferry that crossed into Denmark. The ferry was not yet there, because of the delays in the train. After 45 minutes something the ferry docked and we boarded and landed on the deck directly.

This is a sail for 45 minutes, and we reached the other end into Denmark. It’s a marvellous experience always. The cell phone roaming instructions precisely change as we approach the borders. After getting off the ferry, we walked to the Danish train stop, I forget the name. And there was no replacement train waiting for us! It was substantially wind-ier, and it was colder. The trail of the storm seemed more evident here than in Germany.

Another 45 minutes wait, and my first time in double-decker train! This was again amidst lot of confusion : the train would not take us to Copenhagen but to another stop, where we had to change trains again. By now, my breakfast had vanished and was looking forward to some food. Even before the thought had passed my mind, a jeep with snacks and soft drinks was loading the train wagons with snacks, and the pilot announced it was free and we could refresh ourselves with it. That was so thoughtful of the agencies involved! These nuances are the aspects in comparison to what I might have expected in India that make Europe special.

The train started, and after some more time came to a halt in the intermediate station to Copenhagen. We were asked not to leave, because there were chances that the train would continue to Copenhagen. And as they said, it did reach Copenhagen after eight hours already since I left Hamburg.

At Copenhagen, in two minutes we had our next train to Goteborg. The other two Swedish friends and myself hopped out and sprinted to the platform where the train arrived and got in. The displays were reading Goteborg, and were finally relieved to have found the last connection. Hastily I sent out messages to everyone concerned that I was heading home! And, just then another announcement saying this train would not be plying to Goteborg and we had to get off the train! On the platform again another announcement was made, which no one could grasp. But when we asked some other passengers they said, no trains to Goteborg but we had to get to an intermediate stop in Helsingborg, Sweden and take a bus! I was imagining a longer day ahead! Now, I was drained out and feeling stressed too.

The train came but again said Goteborg Central, we got in and I was sitting in the most crowded train/bus I have seen in Europe. People could not board the train and had to leave many behind. When the train started it said it would reach Goteborg too in 3.5 hours! Again a sigh of relief. In half an hour, it read only midway and we were confused. And another half an hour it read it would reach Goteborg! After all this confusion, finally we came to understand that the train was indeed going to Goteborg!

But not without more drama. Almost midway to Goteborg, the train stopped inside a tunnel, and I also saw there was another train next to us. An announcement was made that the tracks did not have power and we could not proceed – I finally realized how bad the storm must have been! Another twenty minutes and the train picked up, but slowly with the pilot making an announcement that only one track had power – so trains from both sides would be using the same track, and hence we would be delayed. I was not worried about the delay, if I was reaching Goteborg!

And after some more starvation, exhaustion and extreme fatigue, the train peeped into known regions – I spotted the IKEA and then sighed a relief – ten minutes to the central station. We got off the train at Goteborg, and never have I been more happy to be home in Goteborg. Hugged the friends, who were at the verge of crying because the travel and headed home!

Overall, I have no complains about the experience, because like I was telling my European friends it would have been worse in India and I was just happy things were going on as they did. Also, the networking that happened under these conditions was more effective than other times, when people are more closed and reserve. This will go down as one of the most interesting of my experiences, while I look forward to top this with more awesome ones.

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Five years of blogging :)

Posted on September 23, 2013 by Raghav/Raghu

Bloggers careful!!

“Yup…The wait is over… I’ve always had this brainstorming happening often and i never used to share it with another soul..Now brace yourself, because you are going  to face it all…I can now unleash myself onto you people… “

This was my first post on my blog, way back in September, 2008! It looks amateurish and embarassingly naïve.

Although it’s been full five years, it looks like as if I decided to start blogging before a few months. One conscious incentive that I proposed to myself was to project the blog as a metric to capture the growth I would be making as a person.

You could try reading one of my olders posts, and a recent one, you’ll know what I am talking about.

To be able to capture a slow transformation, in few hundreds of words, every post, over these many posts and now to be able to brag about the fossil-like quality of it it is just marvellous, I think. I am not talking of the quality or the lack of it in my blog, but it simply being the measure of something that is inherently hard to measure.

My persistent blogging has taken me to many-a-places – from the cubicles of one newspaper that I adore and respect (The Hindu), to now the latest student blogging opportunity for Chalmers. And more than these also a chance to be inside your heads.

For sometime, the last few months I was facing what I dub as the bloggers’ block (if you know what is a writer’s block). I hope to have gotten out of it and to fare better with more fluent and versatile writing. The block I am talking about necessarily is not about the number of posts, but the ease with which I can put down a sophisticated idea, and elucidate it to myself and the readers who do stumble upon my blog.

Travel is a teacher, and an inspiration. As you would have already observed with my recent posts – I will be writing more often, and as an explorer.

Finally, I don’t want to make this seem as if it is a feat of some sort – it ain’t. Nonetheless, in appreciation to the time you’ve spent on peeking into my mind through my words, I would still want to send out hugs to all of you.

Cheers!

And never will it be about this blog, or any blogger – it is always the idea that is important.

PS: Thanks Nitesh Jain for nudging me about the 5 years 😛 I would not have remembered it at all  😀

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One month, away from…..

Posted on September 21, 2013 by Raghav/Raghu

As the post title suggests, it’s been a month away from many things – home, and for the first time away from India. Also my first full month in a foreign country.

So, what has changed in a month?

Many. I won’t focus on personal changes, as to how I am doing now, or people I might be missing. I can guarantee that I don’t feel any melodramatic about being away from India. This post is more on how my perception has changed.

Having been in one place, in the same culture, and being in an environment that has brought me up for the entirety of my life hitherto I think has made me miss the obvious. Like the famous analogy – the fish not knowing the existence of water. The first month has been adequate for me to identify these subtleties that I was not conscious about.

Knowing other cultures can open up better understanding of one's own culture too

The differences that thrive in India, and why our diversity in every way is so unique to us, and why we should seek pride in the differences, and not in the commonalities, are some of the aspects I am seeing in new light.

The linguistic diversity we have in India, for instance seems very different to me now. Coming to a foreign land here, I can make sounds of the languages when I try to read them. Yes, Swedish, or German, or any European language that has the alphabet similar to English. (I said read, not pronounce or understand :))

Whereas, when I travel in India, there is so much more difficulty, for, the scripts of most Indian languages are so disconnected that even character recognition is almost impossible.

And one other issue in India, that seems to gain more importance in my observation is the lag in internal communication. Be it the government machinery, or people, there has never been a common mode of instruction, or communication. In endorsing English as the bridge, apart from losing values vested in our languages we have also alienated a population that does not know English, like the majority of our villages.

Lack of communication might not be the only reason, but it is a factor. Any other country, under the ambit of a single constitution does not face the linguistic problem to the scale of India. Even the vast China has not more than 4-5 languages that the institutions need to work in. Maybe this evaluation of mine is trivial, but this observation I was never able to make while within India. It somewhere clogs the smooth functioning of the society is my claim.

Nuances of our culture like eating with hand, high spice consumption, and emphasis on food are the things noted as strange by people from outside India. Of course, these are aspects that I take pride in – yes, even eating with hands. The joy is quite different.

Of course, the tropical climate of India, and the moderate ambience of Bangalore. When I first saw people here crave for the Sun, it seemed unnatural to me. After a month, now I look for sunny spots, where the Sun is not behind the clouds and savour it!

These apart, to be able to observe a society that is certainly advanced when compared to India in many ways, I can anticipate how it might be for us down the line. Maybe in a seperate post I will write about my observations specific to the society here.

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