Lying as a virtue, an invention to steer out of unpleasant circumstances... well now is the time to be judicious about its use.
Now I think that Mark Twain didn't go too far in stating that lying should have been taught in public schools, and also through newspapers.
Twain pronounced it as man's best friend, and for me it can turn out to be the immortal saviour. I am just being truthful about my once-in-a-while habit of lying. It does come naturaly to me in some of the most difficult terrains but now my heart beats violently. Is it right to lie about a situation in which I can find myself in a few years down the line, God forbidding? A concoction of today may be a reality of tomorrow. That's where lying cannot legitimise itself so naturally. But here if people don't take recourse to lies, they will deceive themselves. Twain's fourth Grace and the tenth Muse may smile upon me but with a grin... after all i m just trying to be truthful to myself, my passion in life...
Thursday, November 10, 2005
Sunday, November 06, 2005
THE GULF VISION
The gulf has been widening ever since I came to the Gulf. The deep fissures, the great divide and the expanding gorges… I have started seeing life from a new perspective – what historians or social scientists would call ‘a view from the below’. The messiahs of egalitarian society will definitely welcome the shift in my point of view, as it glorifies the notions of a just and equitable society, a critique against the localised system of oppression. But, in the Middle East, my individual perspective cries for space, the vision passes through an endless darkened and hollow tunnel. The vision is entrapped in this hollow tunnel. From the deep gulf of professional disgust, everything lends itself to a narrow vision, of a piped and thus warped view. In short, professionally it’s been a very disappointing place. A learning experience I would ‘prefer’ to say though the heart rebels against associating the very idea of ‘learning’ with the region. There was a growing cynicism against the profession back in India. But here I could feel the disenchantment. The only saving grace is that the Indian reality has again become appealing, the willingness to be out there and grab the opportunities is fascinating and the will to struggle against heavy odds has become irresistible. That’s where I have ‘learnt’ the Indian reality. Thanks to the ‘gulfed’ vision.
Saturday, November 05, 2005
A new chapter...
In this world of 'interconnected differeces', I am unable to find my own space, a space created out of free will. Everything looks so real and yet devoid of the 'real' essence. Decentre your thoughts to think free and at will. The micro is overshadowing the larger picture, the one I painted out of passion. Factual stands staunchly against the counter-factual. But the argument goes that one has to wade his/her way through the micro to reach the macro from where you can 'pontificate' (if I am allowed to use the term for disdainful and highbrow journos). Where do I stand as I yearn for answers? The experienced and the not-so-experienced amatuers would say: Well, you have to chart it this way dude. There can be no short cuts, they would tell me. But do I really want to tread the road less travelled? Yes and no. 'Uncertainty' like always before stands in my way. Not knowing the priorities of life and confidently dealing a blow to the aura of self-confidence, I am struggling with my self created naivete. The passion which was mainifested in ambition is somehow still there in the deep recesses. That's where the hope lies of a brighter morning, of a willingness to perform and rise from the ashes. The journey begins afresh, once more...
Tuesday, September 27, 2005
MUSCAT MUSINGS
When the Western media feeds your mind on the rather perplexed issues of the Arab World, you are sure to land in the region with several pre-conceived notions. A media that is known to “manufacture consents and crises”, has left no stone unturned to paint a sordid picture of the Gulf.
And with a feedback from a media that has metamorphosed into a propaganda machine and an appeasement tool, one might enter the region with speculations rife. But, when you land in Muscat, all the sweeping generalisations about the region vanish in thin air. All the Western tales about conservatism being prevalent in the region do a disappearing act. All the TV images that were stripped of reality start making way for the more real and personal observation.
The first impressions: a cosmopolitan city with a traditional outlook. An infrastructure that can match the best in the world greets you. It doesn’t take long to feel the caress of the city, particularly if you land here in the evening.
“Love at the first sight” won’t be an exaggeration to describe one’s first encounter with the Capital of Oman, especially for a visitor from India. The city has enough breathing space, he would say.
Beaches, mountains, the beauty of barren land and all the luxuries of development… Muscat presents a picture perfect. Sandwiched between a plateau and the Arabian Sea, the city has wide roads on which cars zoom at an average speed of 120 km/h, state-of-the-art shopping complexes, modern facilities for education, some of the finest hotels, etc. Historic buildings and the marvels of modern day architecture, sheltered harbour and the sea air make it a fine place to relax and work. Fine restaurants and cafes and the abundance of marine life add to the cosmopolitan beauty of the city. Blazing sunsets, awe-inspiring mountains, carpet of flowers that stretches along the city’s main road splash Muscat with various colours divine.
It would not be gainsaying the fact that the city has preserved its tradition but the indigenous culture of Muscat’s villages has not survived the pangs of time and modernisation zeal.
A case in point is the Hamam village located in the mountains that surround Muscat. People of the village, post 1970, abandoned their old village and built a modern village nearby as money started pouring in. As the country’s economy was propelled by oil exports in the 70s, the quality of life of the people of the village also underwent a sea change during the period. From mud houses, they moved onto cement houses in the 70s. Toyotas became a common thing in the village. Dilapidated rugged roads were replaced by macadamised roads. Earthen pots gave way to fridges. People started to accord priority to education. The urban Muscat has assimilated the villages.
And in this urban village, located in Wadi Al Hamam, there lies the abandoned old Hamam village. The silence of the village is deafening, almost stretching to the extent of claustrophobia. Had Mrs Shelly lived, she would have certainly written one of her Gothic novels in these settings, as the old place resembles more like a ghost town.
Standing tall amid the ruins are village observatories. Meant to keep a strict vigil on trespassers entering the village, these observatories have weathered several rough seasons.
And with a feedback from a media that has metamorphosed into a propaganda machine and an appeasement tool, one might enter the region with speculations rife. But, when you land in Muscat, all the sweeping generalisations about the region vanish in thin air. All the Western tales about conservatism being prevalent in the region do a disappearing act. All the TV images that were stripped of reality start making way for the more real and personal observation.
The first impressions: a cosmopolitan city with a traditional outlook. An infrastructure that can match the best in the world greets you. It doesn’t take long to feel the caress of the city, particularly if you land here in the evening.
“Love at the first sight” won’t be an exaggeration to describe one’s first encounter with the Capital of Oman, especially for a visitor from India. The city has enough breathing space, he would say.
Beaches, mountains, the beauty of barren land and all the luxuries of development… Muscat presents a picture perfect. Sandwiched between a plateau and the Arabian Sea, the city has wide roads on which cars zoom at an average speed of 120 km/h, state-of-the-art shopping complexes, modern facilities for education, some of the finest hotels, etc. Historic buildings and the marvels of modern day architecture, sheltered harbour and the sea air make it a fine place to relax and work. Fine restaurants and cafes and the abundance of marine life add to the cosmopolitan beauty of the city. Blazing sunsets, awe-inspiring mountains, carpet of flowers that stretches along the city’s main road splash Muscat with various colours divine.
It would not be gainsaying the fact that the city has preserved its tradition but the indigenous culture of Muscat’s villages has not survived the pangs of time and modernisation zeal.
A case in point is the Hamam village located in the mountains that surround Muscat. People of the village, post 1970, abandoned their old village and built a modern village nearby as money started pouring in. As the country’s economy was propelled by oil exports in the 70s, the quality of life of the people of the village also underwent a sea change during the period. From mud houses, they moved onto cement houses in the 70s. Toyotas became a common thing in the village. Dilapidated rugged roads were replaced by macadamised roads. Earthen pots gave way to fridges. People started to accord priority to education. The urban Muscat has assimilated the villages.
And in this urban village, located in Wadi Al Hamam, there lies the abandoned old Hamam village. The silence of the village is deafening, almost stretching to the extent of claustrophobia. Had Mrs Shelly lived, she would have certainly written one of her Gothic novels in these settings, as the old place resembles more like a ghost town.
Standing tall amid the ruins are village observatories. Meant to keep a strict vigil on trespassers entering the village, these observatories have weathered several rough seasons.
Tuesday, January 11, 2005
Tides of troubles
Tides of troubles, it seems, have broken on the shores of my peaceful existence. I wonder why all troubles and tribulations strike at the same time..
tension in office, an ego clash in the family n now a "mild rebuke"...all add up to "throw normal life out of gear"...
It's almost 3:30 in the morning and sleep is elusive ... seems a banshee keeps wailing over my head all the time... there is no light at the end of tunnel.. the reality of present has stripped the future of all its fantasies..
one has to "legitimise" the present to seek "refuge" in future... but the present is playing a decieving elf.
Looking at myself, i can't help but recall the "deterrence model" proposed by Jean Boudrillard.. why do we need money? Most of us would say -- for a better quality of life.No, for maintaining a social and cultural distinction. Objects have no "natural use value" contray to what Marx thought. So my position in society will be justified by the salary I get, the kind of distinctions I maintain.
If everyone is driving a maruti 800, i should have a zen...
tension in office, an ego clash in the family n now a "mild rebuke"...all add up to "throw normal life out of gear"...
It's almost 3:30 in the morning and sleep is elusive ... seems a banshee keeps wailing over my head all the time... there is no light at the end of tunnel.. the reality of present has stripped the future of all its fantasies..
one has to "legitimise" the present to seek "refuge" in future... but the present is playing a decieving elf.
Looking at myself, i can't help but recall the "deterrence model" proposed by Jean Boudrillard.. why do we need money? Most of us would say -- for a better quality of life.No, for maintaining a social and cultural distinction. Objects have no "natural use value" contray to what Marx thought. So my position in society will be justified by the salary I get, the kind of distinctions I maintain.
If everyone is driving a maruti 800, i should have a zen...
