Doctors have a tough life. They are constantly surrounded by real pain and suffering. They have to grow immune to all the pain and suffering along with the diseases they encounter. Scrubs does show us that deep inside them they also crumble like the rest of us.

Here’s another of my out of the box solutions for the world. Translate this tv serial in all the languages of the world and show it to each and everyone. Especially show them to people who think killing is a solution.

I am glad, I don’t have TV. (I watch Scrubs on my Laptop.) When I do have access to TV, I stumble on documentaries and News that is extremely disturbing. Last weekend I saw a show on the Australian Network, where a journalist goes to both Israel and Palestine and talks to people there. One footage shows a woman who is proud of her dead son who committed suicide bombing. She even encouraged him towards it. Another was an Israeli woman, who is living in her apparent “Zion”, and doesn’t really mind the attacks on Gaza. Why is it deeply disturbing to me…? It is for many reasons.

Not till long ago, I used to think that I didn’t understand these conflicts. I used to think that there is some deep emotional pain attached to it. Also there was no way I could relate to the pain. I haven’t gone through any such thing myself. But now I realize, there isn’t any real depth to it. And we human beings are such fools that we can fight for the flimsiest of reasons.

There don’t seem to be any reasonable people around. People who don’t have a ego. Even the smart, intelligent ones have an ego. It’s more than fuel to the fire.

Frankly, I don’t have much hope on Obama. I so wish Martin Luther King was around instead. But in these times his voice too would have been muffled. Obama seems like a nice guy but only time will tell if he is amongst those who listens to the voice of reason.

Also on the obnoxious tv channel – India TV, I saw a news broadcast where young children were trained to kill. 10-14 yr olds with AK 47s, rocket launchers etc. My grand ma was also watching along with me. She, who is a very religious person, could not get what was happening. I strangely felt very close to my grandmother that day. I didn’t know if the things that she was saying, came from a place where one has lived ones life and looks back at with some kind of secret knowledge or from a place where she was just being sensible.

I am in the middle of the 5th season of Scrubs. Everytime a patient dies, they feel like they have lost a war. I compare this fiction to the stark realities of life and in some vague way connect to the people who are writing these episodes. In reality we are out their killing ourselves on our own volition.

I realize how fragile life is, and yet we try to find our Zions and Pakistans. We fight for lands and not people. We have concepts like “our people”, “our nation”, “our religion”… and whatever that does not fall in this “our” category, we learn to hate it.

I would have been better off being fictional than real. At least that way I would belong to some “our” category.

For those who don’t know: Sawai Gandharva is a music festival started by Pt. Bhimsen Joshi as a dedication to his guru – Sawai Gandharva. It’s now a 56 year old tradition. The greatest of musicians perform here. The genre is purely Indian classical. About 15000 people attend the festival every year, but it could be much more. The festival has grown to be larger than life. It’s also interesting to hear the conversations of people around you, they know their artists and talk about their idiosyncracies, they also know their music. It’s an experience worth taking and revisiting.

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Thank you A & H for introducing me to this.

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While there, i wrote a few music scapes. Haven’t edited them much. So execuse the mistakes.

Here they are:

During the performance of the brothers Rajan & Sajan Mishra (vocals)

The casual droning of the tanpura muffles the voices of a soulless melody that emanates from the heart and reaches the Fingertips.
God lets man supersede him at times. Reluctance of being a man falls apart. Bit by bit it becomes the beats of a tabla. Accompanying the tanpura they leave the man they occupy. They become what lesser mortals will never be.
Ants – They Crawl over what remains, releasing a sigh that grows into a moan. A moan that slowly grows wings and flies. And in its flight it meets another bird, another bird that’s emanated from dead skin, a hint of desperation and a rhetoric gone mad.
Together they fliy over a sea, a sea that has been thirsty for years. They are the bashirs of a never ending rain. But it is still far – the droplets will take their own time to come. For now there is only hope. But unlike before, this hope comes with a promise. The birds Slowly land on to the parched land. And wait in peace.
For only when war is over, will man see who he really is.
The rain will come.

During the performance of the brothers Rajan & Sajan Mishra (vocals)

The dust gathers dust
It’s been a while since someone has even been here
Centuries may be
Seth was last seen here
May be this is what he saw
And decided to be the progenitor of mankind
He too had seen hatred
brother killing brother
He Foresaw The bleakness
he also foresaw the beauty
A Beauty that
Even Methusaleh couldn’t have managed to see in all his llfetime
A beauty that would need at least a billion lives
And yet
The eyes would be hungry
The ears unsatiated
He would have to risk a hundred  Kanes
Killing a billion Ables
For the few SethS
Who would assimilate this beauty
And use it
To recreate paradise
The few Seths who would die a billion times
And a hundred More…
And Survive..

During the performance of Ronu Muzumdar (flautist)

The bird soars high
Slowly but surely
Sure of  What it’s doing
Sure of the eventuality
Sure of its proximity to the sun
Sure of its descent
Sure Of its eXtraordinary fate
UnKnowing of the outcome
the higher it flies
The lonelier the illusion
The emptier the arena
What it seeks?
A desert  in the sKY
For its death is foretold
But its life still a mystery

During the performance of Pandit Jasraj (vocals)

An opening in the sky
A ray of light passes through
Banished from the Kingdom
It seeks to find a meaning
A meaning so ordinary
So simple
That
The puzzle is solved
But what mystifies the man whose eye it enters is the need for demystification
Thus the puzzle is passed on
Only its form changes
an incessant cooing of the cuckoo catches the man’s ear
In an attempt  to find the beholder
The ray of light leaves his eyes.
It travels thru the branches of a tree
Who embraces its very being and breaks it into a million pieces
Thus the puzzle prospers
It blooms and bears pollen
Travels on the back of a bee
And discovers honey
For what it thinks is sweet death
Is but humiliation
A theft of freedom
It desires to break free once again
It counts a million moments
And then jumps into a cup reluctantly
Trying to enjoy its freedom between two cages
The last it remembers is hot water flowing over it and the gentle aroma of camomille
Which picks its burnt soul
And rises
And resuscitates it
The awakening-
The cloud opens up…
An angry demeanor hides the wisdom
And lets A ray escape
Another puzzle bears wings
A potter awaits,
the clay is wet …

Heard another news that made me extremely sad but I won’t talk about that here. But it added to the low feeling.

I also read that Ganguly would hang up his boots post this series. I don’t usually read blogs the first thing in the morning. In fact at times I don’t read them for days. But I had a feeling Greatbong would write something about it. I wasn’t disappointed. It was an unusual post – not taking digs at anyone, it didn’t bring out any guffaws, but it resonated with me. It’s a very well written blog post and houses the feelings of a generation who grew up on the cricket of Azhar-Sachin-Ganguly. Do read.

If you have read the foundation series by Asimov – then Dada reminds me of the Mule. An anomaly of sorts in the system, who challenged it and showed us that cricketers could be daredevils and not just gentlemen. He also showed that you can be a cricketer in an Indian team, if you have nothing but a beautiful square drive and a lot of will. Ganguly played cricket like I did. He was left handed, bowled slow medium pacers with his right hand and ran slowly between the wickets. He wasn’t a very good fielder either. Watching him play cricket, I would at times get angry that if he could be there, I could be there too. But since I am an Indian, I will be forgiven for thinking so. Everyone does. (Not forgives but thinks so.)

It was his captaincy that made him. Or rather his will and grit. The Australian series has now become all the more interesting. The tiger would come out with his bat and grit to play for sure. I am not a big fan of Ganguly but he has given a lot to Indian cricket, a lot of which is ingrained in the team even today. And that’s an exemplary contribution.

As a tribute we must all watch the last test – shirtless.

I have seen them through countless broken relationships and innumerable failures in life and work. I have seen them be nasty to each other, pull each other down, be sarcastic. There is no love between them. No seeming love at the least. But they can’t live without each other. They are very conscious about showing it though. That’s how they choose to be.

So me dedicating a blog entry to them and telling them how much i loved it, will totally not go down well with the gang. Too sentimental it would be.

There’s a scene where all four of them get down from the train and move in different directions. Elaine is the last remaining person and she says, “Bye?”

If you see Seinfeld  like I did, watch it alone. All by yourself. Be the 5th person amongst them. You will realize they will feel real.

Thank you guys, thank you for at least a thousand laughs.

This world makes a lot about faith, religion, spirituality and things like that. It’s all nice and makes you feel hopeful about life and all. But if you analyze it, it all is very artificial. Faith does not liberate you, it makes you dependent. But if there is a God, I am sure he is a funny fellow and I think he enjoys a good joke more than your servility.

Something I learnt over the last few months – ‘keep the humor’ (and not the faith)

Now get on with your life.

We did most things right but we ignored the demons. The demons came back strongly and today we are back in turmoil. We have constantly been manipulated by political parties for THEIR power struggle. What is it about wanting to rule the country that makes them do vicious things? What have they become?

Gandhi failed to see these demons. It was probably his biggest failure. Even Batman of Dark Knight failed to see these demons.

These demons build in a false sense of patriotism within us. This patriotism is sometimes of the country and sometimes of religion. They look into history books and pick out topics and point to us about some gross injustice that has happened ages ago. We can’t then think. Our sanity is lost and we are ready to die or kill. They have been extremely successful over the years.

Every day we build relationships, with friends and people around us. So much of effort goes in making this relationship happy and meaningful. You begin to start accepting the culture differences, in fact even valuing them. The foods they cook, the clothes they wear. The add so much value. But then we forget all that… as soon as an old grave is dug out. We become monsters.

Are we just trying to be politically correct then. Do we still feel that it is ‘Us’ and ‘Them’ and the twain shall never meet? Are we just tolerating each other?

India as a democracy let’s you think and practice what you want to. But why does a rightist philosophy have to mean that we only care about people of our religion? Isn’t Hinduism or Islam in its truest principle as socialist as it can get? Why do the communist parties believe that if we don’t all progress together we must not progress at all. A lazy communist and a religious fanatic are almost in the same league I would say. It’s just a question of which side of the river they are born on.

And yet, today… there are many people amongst us who see these demons. Who fight them everyday. It’s a silent revolution of sorts. Their numbers are not very large and their thoughts and ideas are too simple for people to take seriously. They do not carry flags or have agendas. They do not sport beards or rudrakshs, or even if they do, it does not characterize them. The change they are looking to bring will not happen overnight, it might not happen ever. They may get disillusioned and retract in their shell. They are after all humans. Yes they are humans and they never forget that.

I was talking earlier about ‘Us’ & ‘Them’ thing. A very interesting incident happened to me recently. I was in a rickshaw. And the rickshaw driver was wearing a skull cap, it was easy to say he was muslim. Though there was no way for him to know I was one too. I stirred up a conversation with him and asked him if there was something like the Mohammedali road food extravanza that happens during Ramzan in Pune, during Ramzan. He started telling me about where I would get these things. And then guilelessly he said that there you will find more people like ‘you’ than people like ‘us’. It was fun to talk to another muslim like i was a hindu. We still had great conversation.

I have never been a Hindu or a Muslim in the sense the world views them. But I am both. I am also a socialist. I love the agnostics and even the antheists. Communism has its own charm for me. And it should be noted that being Muslim, I have subscribed to everyone from Adam to Noah to Moses to Jesus to Mohammed. Of course I am an Indian, a Maharashtrian, a Bombaiya, a Punekar. I can go on for days not eating onion, garlic, potato, or killing cockroaches. I am complete believer of peace and non-violence.

I do not believe these are exclusive clubs. For me everyone is ‘Us’ but strangely the way life has played out, most people will categorize me as ‘Them’. Not everyone though.

Here’s something interesting -

From wikipedia – Lennon composed this song by combining three songs he had been working on. When he learned that a teacher at his old primary school was having his students analyse Beatles’ lyrics, he added a verse of nonsense words.

If the teacher comes to me, I will be able to tell him what the song exactly means. Here’s a snippet from the lyrics….

I am he as you are he as you are me and we are all together.
…….

I am the eggman, they are the eggmen.
I am the walrus, goo goo g’joob.

How did we manage to screw up Kashmir so badly?

We time and again let ourselves be manipulated by political honchos. I cannot help but think that we are in the hands of mafia and not leaders. It’s a Black Day for me.

We cannot have the gall to celebrate it.

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Thanks bluesprite for pointing out the mistake.

The great thing about Olympics is that it shows that most people are human. While people who win and get medals are hailed, the rest feel disappointed. But Olympics is more about them then the winners. I don’t see how beating someone by milliseconds makes you a better. They are only the slightest bit better. Most Olympians must feel disillusioned when they lose.

India has never done too well at the Olympics. One reason is that we have shoddy infrastructure for preparation and most Olympians end up training outside. But it does not bother me. What I love about them is that they have chosen something that 2 Billion Indians don’t care for. I mean something other than cricket. For the first time I have been following the Indian contingent at the Olympics and it must be quite something to be in that camp. I want to make a movie on their experience. Their ups and downs and how their skin must tingle once they go out their and face the world.

I had a lot to write, but haven’t for a while. I finished reading – Shalimar the Clown – I wanted to write what I thought about the book. I thought of reading a few critiques after reading the book and realized how fake they all were. Most people seemed to have read the book because someone had paid to critique it. No one seemed to have read the book first and written about it. All its hailing seemed artificial and all its bashing seemed vindictive. I don’t think anyone deserves to know what I felt about the book. I am glad Rushdie wrote it, if he seeks to know what I felt I will write to him. If you wish to know, let me know, I will write to you too*. But out here in the open for the world to see. I don’t think the world deserves it.

*Terms and Conditions applicable

I had a delightful time. Although I was alone at home, I could still connect with ppl and share my love for what I was watching. This is how TV is going to be in the future. Loneliness with virtual company.

One of these days I am planning to have a classic rock evening, beatles evening, qawwali evening. Youtube truly rocks.

On another note, am planning to host a ghazal/mushaira evening some time in September. Exact dates, venue is still not decided. But if you are interested in presenting or listening, do get in touch with me.

While politicians will analyze his statement in their own vein and say that he made irresponsible remarks; While the government may feel a little red in their cheeks; While the oppositon will be jumping up and down with a sort of excitement; While a bunch of silly people will make crude statements at him (read comments section of article); Iam quite happy that at least someone is not being hypocritical.

What’s the use in being right, when you can’t be forthright about it. Right?

While we may love some of them and hate some of them for various reasons, we can’t really say that they do a bad job of making a movie. More often than not the movies by these directors are technically sound.

Then, what makes the movie, good or bad? More often than not it is the story. ‘What is being told.’ I have realized that I can’t stand what Karan Johar is telling me, hence I almost never like his movies.

Khuda Kay Liye is a movie that is not technically perfect. There are editing mishaps, and it comes out as a movie that feels amateurish.

But it is a story that says something very important. And it’s a movie that I will hold very close to my heart. There are a few extraordinary moments in the movie. There’s one where Mansoor has newly joined the Chicago School of Music, and as an introduction he is playing his kind of music (Hindustani classical mostly), and as he is playing everyone begins to play and sing along. By everyone I mean students from all over the world. The effect is amazing and touching – and signifies how music unites the world.

After Sidd, one of my friends, saw the movie, he urged me to see it. And told me that while it might not mean anything to most people, it would mean something to me. I marvel at how well Sidd knows me .

The movie does mean a lot to me personally. I am a Muslim, but as Altaf says, “I don’t wear religion on my sleeve.” I do go through phases where I offer prayers regularly and phases when I don’t. I have learned more about Islam through my mom, who comes from a Hindu family, than my dad, who is a muslim. I have learned more about it through trying to understand Gandhi than trying to understand Mohammed. This is probably a bold confession to make, but it is what it is. I also drink alchohol and may some day even eat pork. But no one has the right to question my faith other than God. “Yes, let’s take it up there,” will be my response. This is a stand that I have not developed overnight. It has been structured slowly and surely. After reading the Koran over and over. After reading the GIta. After perusing through the Bible.

The deal with religion is that everyone chooses to mould it in their own way. So have I. But I won’t preach. The movie highlights muslim clerics who instigate the youth by citing them religious scriptures (fyi – it is never the Koran). I find the fear of hell to be greater than the excitement of life amongst people and thus they are led to believing these clerics, who primarily preach baseless aspects. The movie also highlights one cleric, who is more progressive and who says that one needs to be muslim inside first than outside. Emulating the prophet is secondary, to follow what he believed in is primary.

I love how the movie highlights that everyone is wrong. And we should all bond by that fact. The only thing common between all of us is that we are all wrong and we should never assume that we are right because we will never know.

• The people who call themselves jehadi muslims are wrong. Because jehad is conquering one’s own ego not someone elses.
• The americans who say, “all terrorists are muslims” are wrong. There is an America that I love and there is small part that itself is terrorizing the world.
• The Indians who hate Pakistanis (and vice-versa) are wrong. You have had history, you were once lovers and you had a bad break up. But it’s past now, grow up.
• Hitler was wrong (most times). Gandhi was wrong (at least once)
• If you think you are right, you are most definitely wrong.

This will all be a paradox if I say, I am wrong. But that’s how our world has turned out to be.

I saw the movie at Pune. The auditorium wasn’t very big but it was full. I hope more people see it. The movie didn’t tell me anything I didn’t know but it will surely tell you a few things — particularly if you haven’t seen Islam from inside and outside, the way I have. The movie is dear to me, because it reassures my faith in the world.

One of my cousins has studied the religion formally. He knows the Koran by heart and he even understands the meaning in Arabic. We are about the same age and used to play together as kids. He leads prayers, sports the attire and wears a beard. He does not see TV and avoids photographs. I recently met him and joked with him. Took many pictures of his with my camera. When he complained, I told him that he is my friend first and then a maulana (priest). We are an interesting contrast, he hopes that I pray more often and I hope he sees things with his own eyes, make sense of them with his own mind and with simple common sense (which he does). I was reminded of him yesterday. I was also reminded of Gitika and how the world’s view on Islam disturbs her greatly. I can imagine her watching the movie and sobbing throughout.

See the movie if you haven’t.