Michael Ondaatje’s Early Work
1 month ago
Showing posts with label freedom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label freedom. Show all posts
On returning to India
It doesn't happen very often that you find an email sitting in your inbox from a complete stranger in which that person is requesting you to update your blog, and asking you to talk about how does it feel to be back in India, while simultaneously he's expressing his adoration for your writing. A rare email of this sorts is then starred, and my inner lazy writer wakes up at 7am in the morning to write.
How does it feel to be back home, after much struggle and adventure in the US? There is no single word or sentence to describe that feeling. It's different here, definitely, much different. Perhaps not different than it was 2 years ago, but to me, it's again a whole brave new world.
As I sit in the open verandah on the second floor of our house, I can smell the fresh morning dipped in a hue of smoke. I can hear the sound of distant horns, blaring in perfect chaos, dampened by the chirping and twittering of many odd little beings that I have not seen or heard since long. Life seems to be slowed down here, yet the traffic on the road is ever-accelerating on twisting, narrow, unknown katcha-pucca roads. I am no more able to cross the roads or sit behind the car driver with ease. People stare at you here for no reason, and their faces look so tense or sometimes so serious, but perhaps this is so because their expressions are genuine and they are not trained to wear plastic white smileys as several are in the US. I could notice by the glare in their eyes, while I was showering a "thank you" to everyone who interacted with me, that there were many people who have not been thanked yet for their silent, lowly jobs.
Everything, everyone seems to moving, rushing past each other, heading for sliding into those closing doors before anyone else, and yet there is this strange stillness in this country. A stillness of a relaxed, and unorganized bachelor's room, where things lie as and where they can, without much care or order. This emptiness has ridden my personal daily scheduler of ink, so I don't have anything to do in the next few hours, or tonight or tomorrow, or the next two weeks, as per the blank entries next to the columns of days and time slots.
But no matter how difficult it maybe for adjusting to everything that was once my own, and perhaps still is, nothing, no developed nation in the entire world, can offer or defeat the savory, sweet-warm taste of gujiya on my early morning dry tongue.
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| Gujiya, my favorite Indian sweet. |
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Current Book: "A Brief History of Time" by Stephen HawkingCurrent Music: "Jaage Hain Der Tak" by A.R. Rehman in movie "Guru"
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Why Americans keep running all the time?
Because they are fitness freaks with nothing better to do would have been my natural answer a few months ago, when I used to observe them jogging in the merciless Sun while sitting coolly beside the window of the air conditioned bus, but now I wouldn't say that; this maniac jogging or running at odd times of the day whether it's bright or dark has much more deeper reasons, it gives a rare relief, for when they have ran for a mile and they know their legs won't trot a yard more, they still stagger further in greed, and that's when I believe that relief surges into their nerves, somehow, all the tension that they have been carrying for whole day long is casually forgotten, the sweat that's streaming down their neck and spine behaves as a coolant, the wind that is nowhere to be seen, seems not to blow against their body but instead glides it forward, the world simplifies itself and yields to be conquered, and they loose themselves upon the road, even if that contributes only a few feet in the battle in which they have unleashed their very souls, truly, they morph into some lone warriors pursuing winding and tortuous lanes in search of hidden glory, only if they could carry flaming torches in their hands, more would have joined them, followed them, worshiped them, but I am not going to do that anymore, nor I am going to merely observe or envy them, because, I too, now feel what they have always felt and cherished alone as I too have now begun that daily battle on evening roads, I am now becoming them.
Now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.
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Current Book: "To the Lighthouse" by Virginia Woolf (...)Current Music: "Sweet Disposition" by The Temper Trap
Is a Perfect Society Possible?
Can a perfect society exist? Is the existence of a flawless society of humans possible? Well, I ain't got any frikkin' ideah.
So after reading some of the works of 20th century on such political matters (Brave New World, 1984, Fahrenheit 451), all of them being set in a futuristic 'deemed-to-be-perfect' societies, I wondered and wondered and wondered at every page I turned. Not only did they remind me of Swift's Gulliver Travels (the work which I think is the true daddy of them all in this aspect),
they made me ask myself the question that I very obscenely pasted into the title of this post.
My answer, to that, would prolly begin by asking the definition of "perfect". Does perfect mean that the happiness index is highest? Or does it mean that the rate of progress in science/art is highest? Because, my humble and idle reader, you must clearly see, that "meanings" of "perfect" are quite contrary to other in terms of parallel sustenance. 'Perfect' being a very mean word on its own. When we're all happy, nobody would bother progressing, and when we're progressive, all of us won't be equally happy. There.
But what I just said, is nothing new. We all know that and also that, that I merely dodged the question (that I myself posed in the first place) in the most hideous and pedantic manner. To answer now, I'd say, it's really hard to have a perfect society. At least the kind of society in which perfect means the way I see it. And the way I see it, "perfect" means so much and encompasses that very much, that by logic, it defeats perfection itself, reaches a state beyond perfection, which I call the perfect-perfection, and so it becomes unattainable, in fact, rather unthinkable.
On our road to perfection, we might begin by dissolving differences, by diluting the variations of color, caste, creed, language - which I believe are foremost in requirements (if there were any) but then how formless or bland that society would be? How plaintive would be the morphology of such a society which has no differences or shades or nuances? But then, in our pursuit of those differences, we pose the risk of losing equality. And even if, we do manage to bring everything to equality, can we really control conditioning (or bringing up of a human) so flawlessly that it achieves our set standards and goals? And if we do, where are we headed? To a brave new world? Oh Lord! Oh Ford!
And so I'd stop the rant, and recommend Thomas More's Utopia for further reading if you really cared and didn't hit the little cross on the top right hand corner so far. For, Utopia is a perfect place and a place that, literally, doesn't exist.
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Current Book: "Sons and Lovers" by D.H. LawrenceCurrent Music: Soundtrack from Mel Gibson's "Braveheart"
Transition and Writerly things
The transition occurred here. - Edited.
Note: This post (about an annual writing symposium) is more or less meant for those readers who are or who will be, writers, in some form, at some point of their lives. Sorry, but this doesn't have your weekly quota of drama, comedy and glamor. But more than that, this post is mostly for recording my own views on the events that I recently saw otherwise they will be lost in sands of time.
# A panel discussion that consisted of an Agent, Editor of a state magazine, Editor of a publishing house, a writer/poet started the event. All I had imagined Editors to be was something like 'grumpy old men who butcher your piece with a red pen'. But no, they proved how they too were real book-nerds like the writers in the audience. They took down the myths about the publishing industry one by one.
It wasn't really like that they told something new or some secrets of theirs. I and mostly everyone present in the audience prolly knew all that stuff. But its different, when somebody in that position tells you all that stuff. That's when you really believe it.
# After the panel, at the break, I noticed all those writers that had attended the event. I tried to calculate the mean age of the audience and it was above 35. Yes, thirty-five. And all of them, struggling writers. Still learning, carving, fighting.
I don't know why but I get a lot of motivation when I see these kind of scenarios. Sorry old people but I am 21 right now. Pretty dumb though and that's okay. I don't have much experience at writing nor my writing is as good as theirs is. But then, atleast am on track. I realize, I just need to keep going. Going ahead, like crazy. I wonder if I'll be an old man with a half remembered dream.
# I also got a chance to speak to the agent who was crowded by so many people that I had to squeeze in myself. Everyone was busy making contacts, exchanging cards.
"So d-do you think, my approach towards my writing career, is it okay? Will it help?"
"Yes, yes," she nodded a lot, "It definitely will. I can't emphasize it enough. Good luck!"
We probably talked for about 2 minutes. And I am not phrasing my questions here because they were really silly. But sometimes all you need is reassurance from someone. And if it comes from a big person, it really helps.
# It was amazing to be among all those people that share my dream. And one of the writers in the panel also talked about finding the right gang. The right poetry club in the corner of a smoky bar. I have been looking for those crazy people all my life. I never really found them. I found them in shades sometimes, but they were always too far from me. Or at too high a position.
But it's really hard to be with those crazy people. Crazy people who are really passionate about something. They are not easy to find. Problem with them is that those truly crazy people are not often seeking out other people. They are often lost in their own proness. Its only people like me, the lesser crazy ones, that can neither find similar friends nor succeed in whatever field they are crazy about.
I think I just need to be more crazy. I am growing hair for that though.
# And then there's this friend of mine, who always keep motivating me to change my major and all. She keeps telling me that I am doing all the work an English major would do, so why not just go for it? I say to her, "I don't know. Maybe I don't even need a degree or a transcript, I just need to attend, read and learn."
And then she laughs at me. She just laughed so hard at me, that it actually became embarrassing.
But to stop her from laughing at my life, I did add though, "But yes, one day when I will have some $$ in my bank, I'll join some MFA program perhaps and quit all the science shit."
But no, really, I will quit one day. Like, quiting forever. Quiting all the bullshit and pursuing just my love.
Anyway, I have come to my office now. People are typing research papers all the time here. All that art and beauty has been left behind.
I return to science and sadness.
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Current Book: "A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man" by James Joyce
Current Music: "Qatra Qatra" from Family.
Take a break, dude.
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| Me chilling out. |
Catch up your breath. Let your throat welcome the soothing air back to its calm motion. Let your lungs capture the breeze which could have choked them if you hadn't stopped.
What are you running for? What are you running after? What are you running from? I know there are good things that you want, that you're running for/after and there are bad things that you are running from. But this is a marathon, remember? Its not a sprint. You will wear out if you continue like this. Calm down, stop.
Take a break, dude."
This wasn't me speaking really. This is the voice I heard in my head when I found out that there is no bus service on Thanksgiving Day. Spending my one week break of thanksgiving holidays at my office had lulled this inner voice until now. So Thursday became the first weekday in the past few months that I skipped college. Skipped work. Skipped email.
Skipped everything that was important.
I did act a bit fidgety about all this complete holiday and shut off thing but then I realized that the inner voice was right. I really needed a break. I had to stop running. After all who am I? Who are we? No matter how big an achievement we make, we are still at nanoscale when compared to the world. We are those tiny particles oscillating about our own axis trying indefinitely to fight the inevitable thermodynamic equilibrium this system will attain one day. And don't even get me started what role we tiny specks of carbon have on the giant universe. And the multiverse?
Meh, I digress. Had a good thanksgiving dinner at professor's home where everybody enjoyed the turkey and wine except me of course. So I finally took a break, and had a Harry Potter mania kind of thing with friends this week. We watched the previous movies back to back at our home on a projecter. So it was all home theater stuff with popcorn, huge screen and loud sound. Then we went for the 7th's first part, which was "totally awesome". Scariest of all movies in the series and a masterpiece. Perhaps I loved it so much because the 6th one was so terrible.Since I have taken a break from science, it is art that I will catch up with. There is a novel that I have been reading very slowly, I want to read some more of it. Then maybe I will perhaps write some shit up and send it to a contest or the market. Then there is a secret writing project that needs some attention from me. Hmmm, lots to do still. Break? What break? Must go work.
On Importance of a Teacher...
Life's been too busy around homeworks. Luckily got a little time to share some thoughts today.
In my entire life, I feel that I had this special connection with my teachers. There were some of them which I really didn't like but then there were a few which I really loved. And as for the teachers' side if anyone would go and ask them, their opinions too would be mostly at the extremities. For them either I had been the most careless and dumb student or I had been an exceptional student. Very few will rate me as a 'nice/normal/decent' student.
And in my bachelors degree, there was this thing that used to happen with me every semester. I used to get in the eyes of at least two teachers every semester. Of course one held love and the other held hate for me. And my record of living up to this phenomenon had been pretty consistent. When I came here in US and the semester began, I was again a bit worried and was wondering if this thing will continue.
Somehow, it did. And it didn't.
I "think" I came a quite close getting a bad reputation in front of a teacher but it seems like it never happened. It all just happened in my worried mind. Or it has but the teacher is not showing it. But yes, I "did" come close to another teacher that I think I really love and he in return appreciates my interests too.
He is a retired professor and quite old. He welcomed me in his office like perhaps no other teacher had ever done to me. And those precious minutes spent with him in the past few days strengthened my grip on my dreams. I know I am talking very vague here and not giving you people any specifics of "What, where and why?" But really, I can't. It's the nature of this blog to stay away from facts. Facts are too mundane and boring. I always try to stay away from names and facts and stuff.
It's all about fiction ;)
And yes, where was I? The meetings, the wise advice and some pivotal events in the past few days have really shaped my world the way I wanted it to. Talking with him, I felt overwhelmed at times on seeing his supportive and encouraging nature. I was "so" much reminded of the book "Tuesdays With Morrie" which I finished a week ago. The way I look at teaching, I sometimes feel that it is one of the most noble professions existing out there. But of course it doesn't suit everyone. You need to know a lot and then you need the right method of telling to novices whatever you know. I don't know about the present but yes maybe after 10 or 20 years, when I feel that I *know* enough stuff, I would love to be a teacher.
I would love to inspire, ignite and most importantly *help* students who would be nothing but my own younger selfs seeking direction.
A great teacher, someone to talk to, someone-someone who could understand everything that I have always meant to say, is what I was primary looking for after coming to US. And I guess I have found someone. It's really important to find that teacher in your life. It's not that I have a "guru" of my lifetime. But yes, for this current phase of my life, I have one. Yes, in past I had a series of teachers who played their roles in perfection. But there had been times when I had no one to guide me. Times of darkness, they were.
I see light now. Pure, infinite, illuminating, White Light.
For every Frodo needs a Gandalf
For every Harry needs a Dumbledore
Ramblings of a Graduate Student
I would like to thank all those people who had contributed or played a part, big or small, in my entire journey to US, starting from building a dream and then realizing it. Following are some of the snippets that may give you an idea of the current twist in this crazy life.
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*I wake up one day and realize that I need not cook or cut vegetables or take care of the utensils. Because today is not my turn. Because today my third flatmate has to cook. She's gonna take care of it. And it's amazing. (I finally get some time to blog too, not for long though)
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*My apartment is awesome. With the attached bathroom feature my room looks more like a suite to me. (Especially considering the kinda places I have lived in past ofcourse excluding the _ hostel at _ University ;)
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*The city is so serene and calm and peaceful and still so imba. I just love the crowd (undergrads? xD)
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*I visited the both libraries (University library and Public library in town) on a single day. Seeing those books, smelling their faint odor, touching them as I walked past endless corridors of infinitely long shelves and racks, I was left in a state of awe. It's like I have been waiting for this my whole life. And it's there, right there, so close to me. Existing in a solid, silent and defying manner.
Waiting for me to come. (I remember that how in my past colleges(degree/diploma) I used to hang out in the most desolated fiction shelves/rack of the respective libraries. Among those limited number of fiction books crumpled inside academic libraries I used to look for jewels.
And here, it's a whole new treasure in front of me. I could call myself lucky.
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*When you walk in the road, you feel like a mob lord or perhaps a king too. Any road you traverse, the car will stop 40 to 50 meters before you and give you ENOUGH space to happily cross at any pace you like. Pedestrians are given first preference, no matter what. The driver even smiles at you and nods if you smile back. Sometimes me and a car are stranded in middle of a road, me waiting for the car to pass by and the driver wait inside waiting for me pass by. It's no more like dodging the traffic with your life in your hands back there in home country.
Disclaimer: This does not hold true for entire US(Try this in California, NY or DC at your own risk). Only for small and hospitable towns, in one of which I currently live.
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*The research is no child's play. It's spanned from the most basic to the highest level. Every day I sit at my desk just to understand what's going on. I am supposed to do literature review for a few weeks before I actually get to do stuff by hands. Looking at the equipment and machines in the lab, I can see what an "advanced" country really means. I had been playing with stones and sticks till now. It's time for big toys.
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*There are hell lot of restaurants here with all kinds of food that I have never tasted or heard of. Mexican, Thai, Chinese, American ofcourse ;) and don't remember what else. I aim to taste every thing before I graduate.
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*The buildings @ campus which have been standing in a majestic way since more than 100 years make me stop in my path and wonder aloud. "Is it real?" "Or it's just a dream?"
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*I want to take down all activities offered here. Canoeing? Skiing? Caving? Trekking? Fooling around without purpose?
Bring it on.
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*I wake up one day and realize that I need not cook or cut vegetables or take care of the utensils. Because today is not my turn. Because today my third flatmate has to cook. She's gonna take care of it. And it's amazing. (I finally get some time to blog too, not for long though)
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*My apartment is awesome. With the attached bathroom feature my room looks more like a suite to me. (Especially considering the kinda places I have lived in past ofcourse excluding the _ hostel at _ University ;)
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*The city is so serene and calm and peaceful and still so imba. I just love the crowd (undergrads? xD)
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*I visited the both libraries (University library and Public library in town) on a single day. Seeing those books, smelling their faint odor, touching them as I walked past endless corridors of infinitely long shelves and racks, I was left in a state of awe. It's like I have been waiting for this my whole life. And it's there, right there, so close to me. Existing in a solid, silent and defying manner.
Waiting for me to come. (I remember that how in my past colleges(degree/diploma) I used to hang out in the most desolated fiction shelves/rack of the respective libraries. Among those limited number of fiction books crumpled inside academic libraries I used to look for jewels.
And here, it's a whole new treasure in front of me. I could call myself lucky.
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*When you walk in the road, you feel like a mob lord or perhaps a king too. Any road you traverse, the car will stop 40 to 50 meters before you and give you ENOUGH space to happily cross at any pace you like. Pedestrians are given first preference, no matter what. The driver even smiles at you and nods if you smile back. Sometimes me and a car are stranded in middle of a road, me waiting for the car to pass by and the driver wait inside waiting for me pass by. It's no more like dodging the traffic with your life in your hands back there in home country.
Disclaimer: This does not hold true for entire US(Try this in California, NY or DC at your own risk). Only for small and hospitable towns, in one of which I currently live.
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*The research is no child's play. It's spanned from the most basic to the highest level. Every day I sit at my desk just to understand what's going on. I am supposed to do literature review for a few weeks before I actually get to do stuff by hands. Looking at the equipment and machines in the lab, I can see what an "advanced" country really means. I had been playing with stones and sticks till now. It's time for big toys.
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*There are hell lot of restaurants here with all kinds of food that I have never tasted or heard of. Mexican, Thai, Chinese, American ofcourse ;) and don't remember what else. I aim to taste every thing before I graduate.
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*The buildings @ campus which have been standing in a majestic way since more than 100 years make me stop in my path and wonder aloud. "Is it real?" "Or it's just a dream?"
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*I want to take down all activities offered here. Canoeing? Skiing? Caving? Trekking? Fooling around without purpose?
Bring it on.
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What a Villager Expects from US of A
So as the day of escape(an illusion?) approaches near, I look forward to my expectations getting fulfilled.
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| This is totally me. Ofcourse. Stop zooming now. |
So yes, as my mommy packs up my entire room in two and a half huge bags (not really as huge as compared to my peers, but huge as per the villager standards), I sit here, trying to remember what all I expect from the land of the opportunities..
1. Full time electricity/power?
Last night there were quite a few nice power cuts in my sad village. One for three hours and other small-small of two hours in the day. It's really nice when you have something important to do on your computer, electricity is not there and you can happily skip off that work and besides its true than when electricity goes off at night, you are not able to clearly see other people or things, but then again, bumping into someone or something, or furniture which has hard/pointed edges/corners in the middle of the night is also yet again another awesome experience which sadly the citizens of developed nations like US can hardly experience and so having power cuts is kinda great but still I wish in US there will be full time electricity.2. Unlimited Internet?
In my village (remember every time I say village, I am not limited to the actual village I live in, half of the times, village = India) Internet is kinda quite slow. If I have to watch a video on youtube, I have to place a order first (open the link and allow to buffer) and then go have dinner, sleep etc and then come back to find that the video I wanted to see is finally fully loaded! Yay! (not to mention if a power cut happened all in this while, then your loaded video is gone and you back to square one. Congrats) But yes there are some companies which give faster internet and your video can buffer fast-fast, but then the download limit will be there which is kinda not cool, if you want to download a huge amount of data, sooner or later you will exceed that limit and your daddy will have to pay for your bills and perhaps your daddy will then slap your face or kick your ass whatever he spots first and so although I will miss all this very much, I expect US to have unlimited and ultra fast internet.3. Coffee?
I kinda have a myth or something that writers need some addictive coffee on their table to continue to write shit. I mean I am able to write shit anyway all the time. But wouldn't it be cool if I write shit AND drink coffee? Then I can always blame the coffee for the shit I wrote.
"Hey coffee sissy, its you making me write such bad stories n shit, screw you!"
Would be so cool. And in my village, I don't get good real addictive coffee. All here I can get is some packed shit that doesn't even make me feel high. I have heard in US, coffee has a good variety and too much of it can really screw your life OR writing. SO I kinda expect that to happen.
4. Freedom?
Yeah, freedom is what is all about. I am not talking about the freedom to urinate or spit in public, that kinda freedom you can only have in my village. I am talking about other kinda freedom. You know? Freedom to live your life without any weird stares from people around you. Although I have lived in that freedom most of the time of my shitty life but it would be cool if other people like family, friends, dragons, demons, cats, dogs, mosquitoes, houseflies, bacterium stop bothering me by their dangerous glances they make whenever I do something new.Hmmm, so that's what its all about. More or less. Can't remember more, but yeah there are plenty more. I think I should go brush now. Or perhaps take a bath. Or maybe none of them and fool around on the Internet with a foul breath in my mouth and few bacteria on my body and waste my day, as usual.
Anything you feel like saying, anything, any expectation you (reader) may have when going somewhere (or US or any country or any village for that matter) or anything that is entirely not related to the above post but not limited to dragonflies or zombies, you are welcome to comment.
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- My little body is aweary of this great world. An Indian PhD student horsing around in Europe.
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