In Search of Wisdom

I picked up ‘Siddhartha’ by Herman Hesse a couple of days back and have been completely engrossed with the thoughts expressed in the book. It is a very effusive prose that follows the life of Siddhartha as he travels on a quest for wisdom and enlightenment.  It is a wonderful and still-relevant (it was written 1922) book with conflicts that many of us can relate to. I do not plan to write a review here, hardly equipped to do something of that nature. I wanted to write about one particular passage that left quite an impact on me:

 ”“It is good,” he thought, “to get a taste of everything for oneself, which one needs to know.  That lust for the world and riches do not belong to the good things, I have already learned as a child.  I have known it for a long time, but I have experienced only now.  And now I know it, don’t just know it in my memory, but in my eyes, in my heart, in my stomach.  Good for me, to know this!” “

 Beautiful. True wisdom really comes with experience. Nothing else. As I stand today, twenty-six years old, nothing strikes me more true than what Siddhartha realizes. As long as I was being educated, told what to do, pressurized by peers, influenced by what I read, I never gained wisdom. As Siddhartha says, when you have grown wiser by the experience, it is not something you recall from memory but it becomes an integral part of who you are. And, only this can be true wisdom and nothing else. Just like how a thousand books on Goa cannot make you actually feel the magic of the place, nor can a thousand philosophies of others make you wiser.  Here’s another passage that has Siddhartha thinking about how his life has been upto this point:

“Now Siddhartha also got some idea of why he had fought this self in vain as a Brahman, as a penitent.  Too much knowledge had held him back, too many holy verses, too many sacrificial rules, to much self-castigation, so much doing and striving for that goal!  Full of arrogance, he had been, always the smartest, always working the most, always one step ahead of all others, always the knowing and spiritual one, always the priest or wise one.  Into being a priest, into this arrogance, into this spirituality, his self had retreated, there it sat firmly and grew, while he thought he would kill it by fasting and penance.  Now he saw it and saw that the secret voice had been right, that no teacher would ever have been able to bring about his salvation.

Therefore, he had to go out into the world, lose himself to lust and power, to woman and money, had to become a merchant, a dice-gambler, a drinker, and a greedy person, until the priest and Samana in him was dead.  Therefore, he had to continue bearing these ugly years, bearing the disgust, the teachings, the pointlessness of a dreary and
wasted life up to the end, up to bitter despair, until Siddhartha the lustful, Siddhartha the greedy could also die.  He had died, a new Siddhartha had woken up from the sleep.  He would also grow old, he would also eventually have to die, mortal was Siddhartha, mortal was every physical form.  But today he was young, was a child, the new Siddhartha, and was full of joy“

How much I can relate to all this! I have not experience half of the world, but I have the impunity to talk about the whole of it as if it is on the back of my hand. 

Since I have no resolutions drawn out for this year, I might add this for 2007 – Do and not think.

Travel Time

Since the time I have been back in Bangalore, I have had the chance to travel more – both closer to and farther from home. Travel has been largely an intellectual passion of mine, another something about which I used to fantasise a lot. But, things have changed and in the last 5 months, I got a chance to use my passport for the first time, visited some beautiful lakes in Bengalooru and took two successive trips through the beautiful sanctuaries south of Mysore – Bandipur, BR Hills, Wayanad and Nagarhole. I also armed myself with an affordable camera-phone, the Nokia N72 and am exploring my photography skills as well.

Harsha, my best friend,  hosted me down at Singapore in September and we had a gala time over a week, as I criss-crossed through Sentosa, Bangkok and Pattaya. Singapore is a fascinating place with great infrastructure, a visionary government and mixed cultural influences. I loved the convinence and comfort the city offers but was present there long enough to sense the lack of a strong cultural identity. As a young nation, they have worked hard and somewhere, sadly, have lost out on the fun aspect. Harsha had (and still has, I suspect) no such feelings, since he has close friends from India and numerous activities to keep him busy and happy. I loved Thailand’s lazy and sanguine beaches that reminded me of Goa but with more doses of fun, exotic and international flavour. Bangkok resembles Mumbai in many ways – crowded and noisy but it’s nightlife is ……… (umm, censored).  It was an action-packed week and I forget what we did on which day – Sight-seeing at Sentosa, getting over-awed at Mustafa, staring down at Singapore from the 71st floor of the Asian Bar. It was all too much and I suffered a severe bout of Singapre-sickness the week after I returned. Severe enough for me to search for jobs on Singapore Job Posting boards!

Also, the comfort of having my own transport again meant that I and a friend went off on frequent picnics around Bangalore. It is a joy to be living in a city that is blessed with so many lakes and I hope they do not suffer the enroachment fate that past lakes did. Hesarghatta is a place that pulls you away from the concrete existence of Bangalore and transports you to a place of abounding joy and peace. The cool breeze coming in and the pleasant morning ride was a very memorable picnic. We also visited the woody GKVK campus, the crowded-yet-beautiful Hebbal lake and the closest-to-forest-in-Bangalore Bannerghatta. I loved all the trips and the fact that you have someone to share it with makes it unforgettable.

In December, the beautiful Jacarandas in full bloom in Bengalooru brought me much cheer. On many lazy mornings, the sight of these bright pink flowers would fill me with a very positive feel about the entire world, traffic and honking horns be damned. Nature is wonderful in that she lets her beauty show even through ugly man-made traffic jungles. For instance, my favourite Jacaranda tree was just after Chinnaswamy stadium, on the road parallel to MG Road, a road that is full of nosiy vehicles and black smoke. As if to mock at cynics like myself, the Jacaranda would stand in full glory and shine on. By the end of the month though, they dried up and stand like bleak loners, leaving me wondering if they reflect my moods, or if my moods reflect their changes.

December also took me to first, BR Hills and Bandipur on a car drive and then, the most memorable trip of my life, a motorcycle ride through Mysore, Gopalswamy and to Wayanad. BR Hills still holds the same mystique to me as it did five years back – a quiet settlement  in the middle of prime forest area that seems to have frozen in time. The nights here taught me what pitch-black means, what with even the shining start seeming like a speck of white dot far, far away to make any impact. We drove through the forest ranges sighting elephants, bisons, wild boar and deers.  We traveled to Bandipur next and though we sighted many more elephants, it was not difficult to sense that the animals here were more used to, and hence, in a sense domesticated to, the presence of humans. Nonetheless, the forests in these ranges, once the realm of that butcher of nature, Veerappan, give you the chance to walk into nature’s lap.

As the new year dawned, I and my cousin took off on a debut road trip on his Bajaj Avenger. We had the time of our lives through out the entire trip that would takes us through Mysore to Wayanad and back on the same route. We started off by making good time through the Bangalore-Mysore highway, pit-stopping fewer times than we thought would. By late noon, we were on top of Himad Gopalswamy, just off Gundlupet. As the name suggests, this picturesque hill plays host to the Gopalswamy diety, offering him a mist-filled abode all through the year. Since we reached later in the day (and on a Vaikunta Ekadasi), we were greeted by a lot of noise and the hot winter sun. My cousin, Manju, was taken aback since he had been earlier and this was the first time had noticed such a large gathering at this isolated hill. The temple sits neatly on the top of a hill and is surrounded all around by grasslands, which offers a perfect view of the mountain-forest ranges.

We drove on to, after a brief lunch at Gundlupet, to cross the Kerala border into Sultan Bathery. Manoj had given me a good low-down on the place and drive, since this was new territory for either of us and we were apprehensive of what to expect. We need not have worried for Kerala, if what Wayanad is any indication, is really God’s own country. The government here has worked hard to make this a top tourist destination what with good roads (even through tiny villages), very hospitable and friendly people, helpful directions and information at every town and good maintenance. We chose to halt at Sultan Bathery and found a very good and affordable loding at Hotel Prince. Bathery itself has more than a dozen places in a radius of 25-30 kms which were more than sufficient for our two-day itinerary. We visited Edakkal Caves, the Tribal Musuem, went half-way through to Meenmutty watefalls and generally enjoyed the country-side. It was a perfect way to ring in the new year.

On the way, I got a chance to see the industriousness of young Keralites, apart from relishing what they had to offer. A make-shift tent on the road had these 4 kids, all younger than 12-13, selling coconuts and marinated vegetables/fruits. As this was my first time, I tried the vinegar and chilly marinated pineapples and was blown over. The strong tastes roused my tongue and left me thirsting for more. I and Manju went bonkers over them and drunk it down with icy-cool coconut water. As we sat down to relax, I saw these kids opening their register and writing down the particulars of each sale carefully. I marveled at their business skills and rode on.

The trip also offered me glimpses of the cuisine and lifestyles in Kerala. Apart from being very yummicious, the food was also quite healthy. Appams were served, not with fatty coconut chutneys as they do here, but with spiced-up sprouts. The Porottas (Kerala Parathas in Empire) were less oily and came with a tomato curry, cooked with spices freshly ground, and not the greasy masala gravy that is dished out in cities. Water is served boiled and shaded in pink, supposedly because of some herbal additives. All the people we met were extremely helpful and appear quite hard-working. We hardly saw any loitering villagers anywhere. Most of the children are in school and use their vacations to earn for themselves. For instance, on the way to Meenmutty, we saw this school-kid, helping out his mates in running up a lassi-shop. He spoke very good English and informed us that he was spending time here for the Christmas vacations.

Driving on a bike was an exhilarating experience, especially on wide, well-tarred roads. The feel of the breeze hitting you as you sail on the cruiser on an early-morning crusade is unmatched to what you would feel on any other drive. On the drive back to Bangalore, after we went off on a rocky detour through horrid roads of HD Kote, we were like two kids starved of candies. It had taken us more than two hours to get past less than 10 kms and we were worked up. As soon as we got back on the Mysore-Bangalore freeway, we let the bike do her job and worked up speeds over 100k. My butt took a beating and by the time we reached Bangalore, we were exhausted but thrilled. I went back home, tired but contented. Less than a day later, I was thirsting for more. I am aiming to make 2007, the year of travel and trips.

Time for Change

The current tour by the Indians to the dreaded Southern Hemisphere is one I have closely followed after more than a year. Not the one-day series, mind you. One-day cricket has become as trite as Himesh Reshamiyya songs – over-played and over-emphasised.

Test Cricket is what gets me going. Five days and thirty sessions of bat hitting ball, minds crossing swords, bowlers asking cryptic questions and batsmen struggling for answers, or with the roles reversed, bowlers asking questions of themselves. Test Cricket is beautiful when both the sides want to win. Everything becomes a factor – the moisture on the pitch, the moisture in the air, the forecast, the umpires and even the toss.

Sweet anticipation is with which I got ready for the series against South Africans. India won their first ever test match (not a series) in SA in their fourth sojourn at Wanderers. The key turning point in that match was the excellent bowling show, backed by smart fielding, which led to SA being dismissed for 84. As it so often happens, relaxation and complacence set in and India lost the second test, without a fight.

‘Without a fight’ is a phrase so often applied to Indian cricket that we would suffix it to our team. While teams like Pakistan and Australia have even their youngsters displaying mature courage to hang on (remember that resillient century by Kamran Akmal) and face the fire, Indian teams are yet to show that gumption. I have followed cricket for the last 10-12 years and not once have I seen any Indian team having the tenacity to survive.

As if to prove my point, the Indians had a repeat performance yesterday on the 4th day at Newlands. Stumbling from 84/2 to 169 all down in most crucial innings of test is a feat that requires immense lack of a willingness to win. Ganguly is back to his fluent best, the kind of form in which he ruled the off-side a few years back.  After reaching the nadir last year, he has made the most dramatic comeback in cricket last year. He was dropped on poor form and is back in team, riding on an amazing fight-back. I supported his exit(on the basis of his form) and it is heartening to note how he showed character to fight for his place now.  The only other batsman to impress yesterday was Dinesh Kartik, coming up with a spunky and daring innings, sadly without an iota of support.

Who failed? Everyone else. Firstly, Dravid has slipped since his epoch-making half-centuries at Sabina Park, going with a fifty the first time in 7 years in a series. The SA bowlers have worked on his weakness for legside shots, often getting him out in front of the wicket. But, the wrecker-in-chief, and increasingly, an embarassing liability is Sachin Tendulkar. Not only does he look like a great past his time, his presence on the pitch demotivates the other batsmen, let alone be an inspiration. He makes the tough look impossible and the ordinary tough. The way he played himself, Dravid and India into a bind last afternoon was shocking. The more annoying bit is the ’sacred cow’ status bestowed on him by the media and commentators. Sunil Gavaskar, for instance, cannot find a single fault in his favourite cricketer. Poor rotation of strike? He must be hurting. Poor shot for a slip catch? The ball was unplayable. To continue edifying him seems to be second nature to him, Bhogle and co. A save on the boundary ropes today earned him accolades praising his ‘youthful spirit’ though he has been in cricket for 17 years. Yes, that is why he is God – for saving runs on the boundary.  India lost the plot, the match and the series in the middle session of the 4th day, all because of one batsman’s inability to play, inability to rotate strike and the failure to survive.

Tendulkar had poorer averages than Brett Lee last year and I think if Ganguly was dropped on poor form, so has the time come for Tendulkar. As India goes through phases of transitions, it is time the selectors take tough calls. The more graceful thing would be for Tendulkar himself to drop out of the team, play himself back into form and create a place in the team for himself. 

On the bowling front, India still do not have the confidence to bowl out any team twice anywhere. They have not had it ever. All of India’s victories have come on the back of valiant batting innings, or dubious pitches, or some sheer luck. As Harsha Bhogle remarked, such victories surprise the winning team and are unplanned.  You still have not created the winning habit and hence, you will never win consistently enough.

Let’s hope the introspection following this series loss creates enough noise to bring in these changes.