Caterpillar’s Progress

I think I see why 30s is the big 30s.

I may not know where I am going yet, but it feels like I may have begun to arrive.

30s, my friends, feels like the funeral of the caterpillar.

 

(I think that’s all I wanted to say. really.)

Je ne regrette rien

No, nothing at all
No, I will not regret anything at all
Neither the kindnesses received
Nor sorrows grieved
I have forgotten the past

No, no regrets
No, I will have no regrets
Love was king, for a day
Swept away, gone astray
To hell with the past!

And the memories I had
I no longer desire,
Both the good and the bad
I have flung in the fire.
Swept away past loves,
With the heartaches I have withstood,
Swept away for good,
Like starting from the unknown!

No, nothing at all!
No, I will have no regrets!
Neither the kindness received
Nor sorrows grieved
I’ve forgotten the past

For my life
And my joys
Today
It begins again with you.

En Francaise:
Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien qu’on m’a fait
Ni le mal, tout ça m’est bien égal
Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
C’est payé, balayé, oublié
Je me fous du passé

Avec mes souvenirs, j’ai allumé le feu
Mes chagrins, mes plaisirs, je n’ai plus besoin d’eux
Balayées les amours, avec leurs trémolos
Balayées pour toujours, je repars à zéro

Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Ni le bien qu’on m’a fait
Ni le mal, tout ça m’est bien égal
Non, rien de rien
Non, je ne regrette rien
Car ma vie car mes joies
Aujourd’hui, ça commence avec toi

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Sometimes I don’t  know who to thank. And what for.

I had to share this

came across this video on Facebook via BFeen’s profile. Have heard it on repeat ever since.
I am personally of the opinion – Dylan made this song – but he may not be the best singer for it.

Madeleine Peyroux’s cover of You’re gonna make me lonesome when you go:

Vino for 2

One of my roommates who’s big on savings introduced me to Charles Shaw wines or 2 Buck Chuck. The cheapest wine available in stores at the moment, $1.99 a bottle. Only retails from Trader Joe’s and is a surprisingly good quality wine.

Affordable, consistently good quality across all flavors, and even award winning.

Interesting urban legends surround the mystery of how a bottle came to be priced so low, but the owner only says, “they are charging you too much for water”. It only sells for that price in California and some neighboring state us but the prices elsewhere go up mainly because of transportation costs. So it’s called 3 buck chuck or 4 buck chuck there.

Anna, the aforementioned rommie, is dedicated to her 2 Buck Chuck Shiraz, which I have grown to adopt as the only red wine I can drink more than a single glass of. Apart from maybe a Pinot. I do not like reds, and I am definitely a white wine person.

Other interesting discoveries have been – I’m talking about wines and flavors I hadn’t heard of before I got here – dessert wines that are sweet (outside of Port):
- Moscato - a sweet wine that is sumptuous if you don’t like the taste of alcohol or wine or both, made from Muscat grapes Until now I knew of Muscat as only a place in the Middle East.
- White Zinfandel – Which is not exactly a white wine, but a pink or blush colored one, a sweetish treat that is good for first timers or newcomers to the wine drinking business.

When you progress from mere sampling to the identification of a preferred type of wine, pour it out in a stemmed glass, swirl it around enough to release the aroma and the packed tannins, and then sit with a book, the feeling merits poetic expression. On other occasions you raise a toast to absent friends who introduced you to that particular type of wine, reminisce about all the flavors of conversation that you could have shared over the same type of wine, and smile.

Man of Knowledge, Man of War

I recently finished reading The Teachings of Don Juan and a Separate Reality. The first book left me awed and inspired. The second book reminded me that reading wasn’t the experience at all. I could never ever grasp what I read without living it out.

Yet some reading excerpts are of note. In particular, the part where he describes a Man of Knowledge. What his dharma is. His challenges, and obligations to himself. Interesting.

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A man goes to knowledge as he goes to war, wide awake, with fear, with respect, and with absolute assurance. Going to knowledge or going to war in any other manner is a mistake, and whoever makes it will live to regret his steps.
When a man has fulfilled those four requisites there are no mistakes for which he will have to account; under such conditions his acts lose the blundering quality of a fool’s acts. If such a man fails, or suffers a defeat, he will have lost only a battle, and there will be no pitiful regrets over that.

I particularly like the above. On reflection over my past attempts at acquiring what I thought was knowledge, I never experienced any of these.
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(contd..)
A man of knowledge is one who has followed truthfully the hardships of learning, a man who has, without rushing or without faltering, gone as far as he can in unraveling the secrets of power and knowledge. To become a man of knowledge one must challenge and defeat his four natural enemies.
When a man starts to learn, he is never clear about his objectives. His purpose is faulty; his intent is vague. He hopes for rewards that will never materialize for he knows nothing of the hardships of learning.
He slowly begins to learn–bit by bit at first, then in big chunks. And his thoughts soon clash. What he learns is never what he pictured, or imagined, and so he begins to be afraid. Learning is never what one expects. Every step of learning is a new task, and the fear the man is experiencing begins to mount mercilessly, unyieldingly. His purpose becomes a battlefield.
And thus he has stumbled upon the first of his natural enemies: fear! A terrible enemy–treacherous, and difficult to overcome. It remains concealed at every turn of the way, prowling, waiting. And if the man, terrified in its presence, runs away, his enemy will have put an end to his quest and he will never learn. He will never become a man of knowledge. He will perhaps be a bully, or a harmless, scared man; at any rate, he will be a defeated man. His first enemy will have put an end to his cravings.

It is not possible for a man to abandon himself to fear for years, then finally conquer it. If he gives in to fear he will never conquer it, because he will shy away from learning and never try again. But if he tries to learn for years in the midst of his fear, he will eventually conquer it because he will never have really abandoned himself to it.
Therefore he must not run away. He must defy his fear, and in spite of it he must take the next step in learning, and the next, and the next. He must be fully afraid, and yet he must not stop. That is the rule! And a moment will come when his first enemy retreats. The man begins to feel sure of himself. His intent becomes stronger. Learning is no longer a terrifying task.
When this joyful moment comes, the man can say without hesitation that he has defeated his first natural enemy. It happens little by little, and yet the fear is vanquished suddenly and fast. Once a man has vanquished fear, he is free from it for the rest of his life because, instead of fear, he has acquired clarity–a clarity of mind which erases fear. By then a man knows his desires; he knows how to satisfy those desires. He can anticipate the new steps of learning and a sharp clarity surrounds everything. The man feels that nothing is concealed.
And thus he has encountered his second enemy: Clarity! That clarity of mind, which is so hard to obtain, dispels fear, but also blinds. It forces the man never to doubt himself. It gives him the assurance he can do anything he pleases, for he sees clearly into everything. And he is courageous because he is clear, and he stops at nothing because he is clear. But all that is a mistake; it is like something incomplete. If the man yields to this make-believe power, he has succumbed to his second enemy and will be patient when he should rush. And he will fumble with learning until he winds up incapable of learning anything more. His second enemy has just stopped him cold from trying to become a man of knowledge. Instead, the man may turn into a buoyant warrior, or a clown. Yet the clarity for which he has paid so dearly will never change to darkness and fear again. He will be clear as long as he lives, but he will no longer learn, or yearn for, anything.
He must do what he did with fear: he must defy his clarity and use it only to see, and wait patiently and measure carefully before taking new steps; he must think, above all, that his clarity is almost a mistake. And a moment will come when he will understand that his clarity was only a point before his eyes. And thus he will have overcome his second enemy, and will arrive at a position where nothing can harm him anymore. This will not be a mistake. It will not be only a point before his eyes. It will be true power.
He will know at this point that the power he has been pursuing for so long is finally his. He can do with it whatever he pleases. His ally is at his command. His wish is the rule. He sees all that is around him. But he has also come across his third enemy: Power!
Power is the strongest of all enemies. And naturally the easiest thing to do is to give in; after all, the man is truly invincible. He commands; he begins by taking calculated risks, and ends in making rules, because he is a master.
A man at this stage hardly notices his third enemy closing in on him. And suddenly, without knowing, he will certainly have lost the battle. His enemy will have turned him into a cruel, capricious man, but he will never lose his clarity or his power.
A man who is defeated by power dies without really knowing how to handle it. Power is only a burden upon his fate. Such a man has no command over himself, and cannot tell when or how to use his power.
Once one of these enemies overpowers a man there is nothing he can do. It is not possible, for instance, that a man who is defeated by power may see his error and mend his ways. Once a man gives in he is through. If, however, he is temporarily blinded by power, and then refuses it, his battle is still on. That means he is still trying to become a man of knowledge. A man is defeated only when he no longer tries, and abandons himself.
He has to come to realize that the power he has seemingly conquered is in reality never his. He must keep himself in line at all times, handling carefully and faithfully all that he has learned. If he can see that clarity and power, without his control over himself, are worse than mistakes, he will reach a point where everything is held in check. He will know then when and how to use his power. And thus he will have defeated his third enemy.
The man will be, by then, at the end of his journey of learning, and almost without warning he will come upon the last of his enemies: Old age! This enemy is the cruelest of all, the one he won’t be able to defeat completely, but only fight away.
This is the time when a man has no more fears, no more impatient clarity of mind–a time when all his power is in check, but also the time when he has an unyielding desire to rest. If he gives in totally to his desire to lie down and forget, if he soothes himself in tiredness, he will have lost his last round, and his enemy will cut him down into a feeble old creature. His desire to retreat will overrule all his clarity, his power, and his knowledge.
But if the man sloughs off his tiredness, and lives his fate though, he can then be called a man of knowledge, if only for the brief moment when he succeeds in fighting off his last, invincible enemy. That moment of clarity, power, and knowledge is enough.

In Good Humor

I am being pushed to seek engagement with recorded intellectual bespeak. And in the past 6 weeks  – the most enjoyable experience I have culled from this foraging is the joy of awesome humor. Good, solid, sarcastic, non-erosively critical Brit humor by this fuck-awesome stand up comedian called Eddie Izzard. If Douglas Adams were alive he’d approve.

Izzard’s standup focuses on a lot of history – which is fun. Back in school, I hated history. Was boring. I wanted to get on with the future. Now that I comprehend we are the consummation of a full ancestry of fuck-ups a little more retrospective feels good – esp when presented by a deliciously attractive make-up clad transvestite proud of his executive nature of cross-dressing.

American stand-up pales SO MUCH in comparison – because like the stupid World Series that they themselves play – their humor focuses on an oft attended boring theme – themselves. It’s either nation-centric, American-lifestyle-centric, or personal dating/sleeping/sexual nature centric – all of which draws from severely American mores.

While this guy goes from Europe to America to India and China, back to Noah in a Sean Connery voice recommending the Ark be a speedboat. If you don’t think it’s sparkling, you need eye surgery.

Nuff said – enjoy: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pAOLOGGftTY&feature=related

u ‘n i-versal

“Only that in you which is me can hear what I’m saying.”

- Ram Dass

http://www.ted.com/talks/jill_bolte_taylor_s_powerful_stroke_of_insight.html

Homeland

An Indian lady colleague told whether or not I will bring back a mixer/grinder from India after the wedding. I told her not really – the American blender works very well thank you. Apparently every newly married Indian couple here brings back a cooker (larger size) from the avg single person cooker (350-500 ml me thinks), the stone grinder for dosai, the idli steamer, and the blender and food processor for chutneys. Esp the south indians.

So immediately I made a mental list:
- Cadbury’s Eclairs. I FUCKING miss those. My happy fix for any hour.
- Sharp ball point pens that are <=0.6mm tipped. American ballpoints are the thickness of pasta. I MUST have pens that draw lines and
- Anjali dabba – the little box custom designed for Indian spices – with the little boxes.
- Little little idols of Gods that my grandmom got me used to.

I may not be into avidly praying a fervent prayer every morning, but lighting the occasional diya and the blue moon incense stick raises my spirits and spiritual quotient. I am a sucker for feel good morning rituals.

Doesn't sound like a list that will impress my colleague though.

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There was a time when I used to chide anyone I knew who was Indian who over-valued Indian things like movies and festivals and rituals. After being here for nearly 11 months, I am beginning to understand why. On diwali, the same Indian colleague invited me over for dinner. Pongal vada dosai sambar chutney and payasam. I dressed to the nine's and went. As if it was my first diwali or something. Bought Kaju Katli to introduce experimental minded roomies. Threw the box into the garbage because mofos here keep stock that is probably 3 months old and nonrefrigerated for the most part. Dass sweets something. Mofos I tell you.

And don't even ASK what happens when i watch a documentary about India or senti scene from an Indian movie. Bawling doesn't begin to describe the outcome.
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Wedding prep in full swing. After J's departure and the end of ceaseless shopping and packing weekends – normalcy has returned to the turtle. But still hours are spent searching for the perfect jewellery that can't be bought yet because the outfits haven't been found yet. And yet the heart isn't going flutter flutter as it should be about the wedding itself.

I find myself jumping and calling bloody murder when I hear J met Bartinda and Shaman and they didn't discuss me. And then laughing and craving to be back in Bangalore. The heart also does a trapeze act every time past gilded memories come to the fore along with the prospects of making some more – with some sistahs and breddas who are traipsing the world at the moment – and some yogis and yoginis who are ascending spiritual dimensions and establishing kilometric records.

1 month 7 days to departure and counting down!

Smile

“Hey, who let in all these elephants?
Did you know that elephants are made of elements?
Elephants are mostly made of four elements
And every living thing is mostly made of four elements
Plants, bugs, birds, fish, bacteria and men
Are mostly carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen and oxygen

Come on come on and meet the elements
You and I are complicated, but we’re made of elements
Like a box of paints that are mixed to make every shade
They either combine to make a chemical compound or stand alone as they are”

Meet the elements from the children’s album “Here comes science”; Artists:They May Be Giants
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They all kept saying
How much we look alike
I don’t think that we look alike at all

But I’ll admit that I look more like a chimp
Than I look like my cousin the shrimp
Or my distant kin the lichens
Or the snowy egret or the moss
And I find it hard to recognize
Some relatives of ours
Like the rotifer, the sycamore
Iguanas and sea stars

My brother the ape
My brother the ape

My Brother the Ape from the children’s album “Here comes science”; Artists:They May Be Giants
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Navratri Kheer Craving Crack

http://www.nanakfoods.com/upcoming.htm

All hail Guru Nanak.

Lost and 2BuckChuckAnna

I was feeling really strongly about something before I came here. Now I forgot. So much for strength of thought.

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Confession: I am addicted to Lost. I seriously believe that if modern day fiction has shifted to the visual medium, then Lost is the best fiction I have ever encountered. It’s got a lot of bullshit of course – like radio hookups that won’t happen and will happen when you want them with a piece of red twine and can call London from a frikking freighter which is causing people to time travel to a Royal Scottish Regiment and a mouse dies trying the same —–. What I am REALLY happy about. Netflix has Seasons 1 through 4 for online streaming. For the past two weeks, barring a few exceptions, all my evenings have been spent planning a departure from the living area without being noticed by my roomies and then crawling into bed and watching back to back episodes of Lost. Things came to a head yesterday when I took half of the day off from the indulgence hangover that consisted of sore swollen eyes a headache and a general inability to stop thinking about what would happen next. I was even dreaming about John Locke and Kate Austen and Jack Shepard in a flight and on an island.

What I am really grateful for is that I started watching Lost at a period of time when I have access to 5 full seasons. What I hate about this is that I don’t have access to Season 6 yet. The waiting and anticipation for good fiction is unbearably nail hurting and cuticle peeling.

With that purged out of my system, I strongly encourage anyone who hasn’t had a good time in a LONG time to invest in a few DVDs and give their mental stimulations a healthy boost. I mean c’mon – if you could believe and enjoy and relive Gondor and Elves and Gandalf and appreciate a good story with a twist every second, Lost is totally up your alley. Brilliance I say.

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My roomie Anna – she wakes up at 6 45 am – is at work by 7 45 – works till 4 30 pm – comes back and goes for a bike ride or a speed skating expedition every evening – comes back all sweaty and high from an endorphin orgasm – and then showers, cooks, smokes, up, and drinks between 1 to 2 bottles of wine – and finishes her day with a Haagen Daaz ice cream stick at 1 am. The same time as when I have been falling asleep in the days before Lost. However, on a day I get less than 8 hours of sleep, exercise or a walk for me goes right out the Dee-Oh- Oh- Are.

This morning I look at her looking up at me grumpily in the morning as I left for work and I asked her what did I do to earn the stare. She said she was sore from the 20 odd miles of speed skating she did yesterday.

I asked her how does she do it- that after the 2 bottles of 2buckchuck she sent the previous night.

She said, in truly Annaesque style:
Coffee, carbs, supplements, vitamins, ice cream – whatever it takes!

It’s Friday morning at 9 45 am and I am thinking when was the last time I wanted to do whatever it takes for anything at all. I’m chewing on it.