Robbers' Cave at Dehradun

     We all grew up hearing bedtime stories about how Alibaba found a robbers' cave and enjoyed all the gold for the rest of his life. Probably even fantasized about finding one ourselves. Just never thought such a place would exist in Dehradun. Don't get your hopes high; it doesn't have any more gold left in it.

     At my first glance, the place looked like an extended gutter. Only after exploring further, I found sheer awesomeness. As they say, never judge a book by its cover.


     The place was like a passage for water to flow through those rocks. It pops two things in mind: The Grand Canyon and 127 Hours movie.  The rocks were corroded by water smooth, just like pebbles. It is ironic that a thing as hard as rock can be so smooth. It was getting narrower and deeper as we moved inside. The ankle deep water level soon became knee deeper. Though the water looked brownish, it wasn't dirty at all. I mean no plastic garbage in it. Just water with some soil in  it. Plastic garbage shows the existence of human race at a place. If you find a place without it, you can be sure that it's untouched, virgin!

     We were getting closer to water source. Discrete drops of water falling downwards were just adding up to the experience. Sunlight was getting rarer as we went deeper. Or should I just say, it was getting more awesome! At the end of the cave, it  went more than 7 feet deep. It felt good to drown in such a compact place, just like a cavity. I might be able to describe it down fully because it was an experience that can't be expressed in words. Indeed one of the best places I have explored. 

07:12 ST Fast

     When you spend more than three hours everyday in a local train (that way, 7 years of an average Mumbaikar's life), commuting from home to work and back, it becomes your second home and the fellow passengers your friends. Some read a book, some solve crossword in the newspapers, some do office work, some keep looking outside the window for hours and some decide to just kill time by looking at those cheap adverts on the walls or enjoying a heavy breeze in the doorway. Or just inspecting an item the street vendor is trying to sell. All in all, if you exclude the pathetic crowd in the trains, all of my commutes have been extremely enjoyable.

     Talking of local trains, you might have seen the Bhajanwalas in early morning trains. Those are just ordinary men, like you and me, trying to devote some time for the higher powers through religious, Marathi songs, most of them dedicated to Lord Vitthal of Pandharpur. Some people see it as an irritating thing; but for me it was purely amazing to see the entire bogie joining in on rhythms of tabla.

     The single craziest thing I have seen in the local trains is probably the water boy. A water boy brings water bottles for the commuters with absolutely no motive behind it. He circulates the bottles amongst the fellow commuters and collects back once they have consumed water. And he does it everyday, year after year. There couldn't be more selfless act than this. Although I have been travelling in local trains for more than six years now, I have never seen the water boy people more than twice. And if you ask why this - May be those people don't find time for doing some good things in their life. The part of punya as defined by the Hindu mythology.

     I was going to CST the other morning when I took the 07:12 train to ST and I felt like I have crashed in a wrong party. Every damn passenger in that bogie seem to know each other and I was the odd man out in their gossip and jokes. It almost felt like a get-together in that train. They probably sent off each other saying, 'See you tomorrow, same  train, same coach!'

     It leaves me confusing every time when I think why do local trains symbolize only Mumbai city? Why not Chennai or Delhi for that matter. They have EMUs too. Who knows? May be these cities and its people haven't accepted the local trains as much as Mumbai has.

Meeting Madhu

     I was summing up my courage to taste the Rajma at hostel 3 mess, on my very first day of the college. There was this guy sitting opposite to me on the same table, with a stud in his left ear, a clean shave, a tucked in formal shirt, a soda bottle glass thick spectacle and  underneath them, a pair of fierce eyes. It all seemed very contradictory to me. Like the one they show in movies, a gunda getting dressed so well that he looks like a manager at a bank. But I kept my opinions to myself  as I thought he was a senior guy and staring at him would only lead to me getting ragged. In the later days, Madhu told me that he though I was a senior guy and hesitated to talk to me. Years later, when we look back to that day, we laugh our lungs out.

     It so happened one day that I had a big fight with some rowdy guy in college. And when it eventually came down to settling down physically, Madhu stepped in. The more important thing is that he never asked me what was it all about? Not by a single word. And that's what I like about him. Or how he used to curse the professor when he got more marks than me despite copying from myself. Funny! 

     Most times, it used to come down to just two of us up for a thing. Like watching movies in exam times, playing pool while others were busy doing assignments. He used to be friendly with most of colleagues and I hated most. I believe it's the academic trouble that brought us together.

     One more insignificant but memorable incident. We were coming back to hostel in Madhu's car when someone bumped it from behind, on a red signal. Without saying a word, both of us got down, ready to kick some. Thankfully, there wasn't any damage and so we let it go. The point is we had such strong communication between us that we didn't need words. And I am sure that he doesn't remember this. 
     
     Madhu had been a great friend till date and I hope we remain.    

Now Downloading: Dreams

     Was the dream, you had last night, so beautiful that you wanted to spend the rest of your life in it? Don't worry, it happens to the best of us. And you know why? Because in those dreams, you can be whatever you want to be, irrespective of the boundaries of this materialistic world. I can't be superman in reality. That's a physical impossibility. But in my dreams, I can be whatever I want. 

     It's surely not this way: If you are a dreamer, you lack some comforts in real life and seek relief in the virtual world. I think of it as a very creative thing. The weirder it gets, the more creative person you are. Dreams are your imagination's playground. There are well established platforms for various arts. For example, there is sculptures, CAD modeling, Lego, Animation tools etc. (I am not including photography here because I think it's not about creating, it's about capturing beauty which already exists.) If they invent a way to download and transfer data from one's dreams, it would soon become such a platform. And they won't have any limitations as seen in these platforms. Teachers would give homework to students as, ' Go home, dream and draw me a sports car.' The best part is, you don't have to do a damn course to show your proficiency.

     I am not at all kidding here. Haven't you heard the benzene ring story? It's quite fascinating. Even John Lenon told his vision of world peace through dreams. Imagine!

 
   I remember this particular incident in particular when my dad got a new car. I did not know driving at that time and my dad wouldn't let me touch the car unless I go to a driving school. The insane part starts here. I started having dreams about how to drive a car. I really did. I used to practice driving in dreams. I got so confident after that I took his car one day and tried out myself. Surprisingly, I bumped within a few meters. That was what I call as 'reality shock'. And then they made Inception which explained the phenomenon when you can't distinguish between reality and dreams.

    
     When dreams become so good, so larger than life, humans find it tough when it ends. I had this dream in which I was role-playing a mafia like they show in those action movies, wearing a black tuxedo, a Cuban cigar in lips, tens of body-guards, long black car, fancy guns and stuff. Things were taking shape quite quickly in that dream and I hated it to hell when I got woken up by the stupid alarm. I just threw the clock away and closed my eyes hard, trying to force myself back into the dream.  Surprisingly, it did happen. Sometime or other, all of you must have tried this and those who have know that I am not making this up.

River of dreams by Billy Joel

     People wish to remember their dreams, they wish to capture its beauty. Just, if there was a way to download our dreams and view them just like we watch movies. I don't know what  breakthrough research has been made till date on dreams, but they should start experimenting in this field as soon as possible, realizing its potential.

What's With the Ship?

     It's not everyday you see such a large vessel parked so elegantly on a beach. You must have seen this beauty making it to evening news for a past couple of days. For those without a clue, it's an abandoned Srilankan ship, named MV Wisdom, drifted to Juhu beach while being towed away to some scrap yard in Gujarat.  I don't understand why's everybody making such a big fizz about it. Authorities burning down cash to move the bloody thing. They don't freaking understand: It has become as unmoving as the sea itself. 

     People have doubts: Where did it come from, where's it going, why isn't that moving, is it broke? But the big question to me is why do they want to move that thing? It ain't eating nobody. And how many beaches in the world have such a vessel parked at? None! It really looks awesome this way. The beach has witnessed more tourist than ever. People pouring from all side to have a glimpse of this thing. My friends had been talking about it and today I couldn't control the urge to see it myself. It is nice to know how amazing things can happen in India. They should let people enjoy it for a while. May be, they should use it for something like a hotel, museum or just open it for public to see from inside. I am sure people would be ready spare few bucks to see it. I would pay. If they still want to move it, there are two possibilities. First, the authorities don't want people to be happy. Second, they are fools. 

The ship at Juhu beach

Kurt's Suicide Note

To Boddah

Speaking from the tongue of an experienced simpleton who obviously would rather be an emasculated, infantile complainee. This note should be pretty easy to understand.

All the warnings from the punk rock 101 courses over the years, since my first introduction to the, shall we say, ethics involved with independence and the embracement of your community has proven to be very true. I haven't felt the excitement of listening to as well as creating music along with reading and writing for too many years now. I feel guity beyond words about these things.

For example when we're back stage and the lights go out and the manic roar of the crowds begins., it doesn't affect me the way in which it did for Freddie Mercury, who seemed to love, relish in the the love and adoration from the crowd which is something I totally admire and envy. The fact is, I can't fool you, any one of you. It simply isn't fair to you or me. The worst crime I can think of would be to rip people off by faking it and pretending as if I'm having 100% fun. Sometimes I feel as if I should have a punch-in time clock before I walk out on stage. I've tried everything within my power to appreciate it (and I do,God, believe me I do, but it's not enough). I appreciate the fact that I and we have affected and entertained a lot of people. It must be one of those narcissists who only appreciate things when they're gone. I'm too sensitive. I need to be slightly numb in order to regain the enthusiasms I once had as a child.

On our last 3 tours, I've had a much better appreciation for all the people I've known personally, and as fans of our music, but I still can't get over the frustration, the guilt and empathy I have for everyone. There's good in all of us and I think I simply love people too much, so much that it makes me feel too fucking sad. The sad little, sensitive, unappreciative, Pisces, Jesus man. Why don't you just enjoy it? I don't know!

I have a goddess of a wife who sweats ambition and empathy and a daughter who reminds me too much of what I used to be, full of love and joy, kissing every person she meets because everyone is good and will do her no harm. And that terrifies me to the point to where I can barely function. I can't stand the thought of Frances becoming the miserable, self-destructive, death rocker that I've become.

I have it good, very good, and I'm grateful, but since the age of seven, I've become hateful towards all humans in general. Only because it seems so easy for people to get along that have empathy. Only because I love and feel sorry for people too much I guess.

Thank you all from the pit of my burning, nauseous stomach for your letters and concern during the past years. I'm too much of an erratic, moody baby! I don't have the passion anymore, and so remember, it's better to burn out than to fade away.

Peace, love, empathy.

Kurt Cobain

Frances and Courtney, I'll be at your alter.

Please keep going Courtney, for Frances.

For her life, which will be so much happier without me.

I LOVE YOU, I LOVE YOU! 

The note