In dodo's head

Hastily made decisions has never brought a bountiful of happiness to anyone, don't we know this too well. We have learned lessons in life through experiences. A mistake here and we immediately know that the next time a repeat happens, we should absolutely take the other route.

There is a rebellion brewing in the Capital city led by a certain Gandhian in white. This is the moment where we are made to feel like we are the spectators of a Superman movie. Good vs Evil being the message being delivered. Like every cliche movie which bombs the box office unless it has a superstar in the lead role, this one too has the ingredients such as a noble cause, the ever so powerful evil and the ever so resilient good. Every newspaper and news channel have decided to become 24/7 CCTV to the happenings in a certain maidan. Call me naive or even a desh vidrohi, but I do not feel such means could suddenly lead to the sweeping off of all things bad from this country. For one, I am all but resentful of the hypocrisy with which the Government has been responding to protests of this sort. A few days fasting from Anna and they immediately decide to consider the Lokpal Bill. But of what use has the ten years or so of Irom Sharmila's fasting been? Moreover, to add salt to the...

As we make our way through the unkindness/mess/murder of fume spluttering cars and scooters and buses and trucks (having learned of names for groups of birds or animals or even people back in my school days I have realised that these three are the most appropriate for describing the vehicles that litter the Imphal roads) each day, I sigh with grief.  I think of the cities such as Manchester which have such an organised public transport system which have a well managed infrastructure reducing the need for use of private transport. The timetables and networks for buses, trams and trains so well planned that it is possible to get from A to B or even to Z with the minimum of worries. Moreover the use of cars or even bicycles is discouraged in more ways than one by having hefty fines for illegal parking and charging almost a ransom sized amount for using even the legal parking lots.  I guess it is all in the social outlook of the city or town to public transport too. In...

Waiting between transmissions, transmissions of a spark of hope somewhere, or even a cloud of inspiration, there is white noise. Like that between radio frequencies. The sort of comforting and yet disturbing voices, asking, telling and yet not listening. We walk on and on, with this white noise for company, sometimes feeling as if it were a lullaby in our minds.Spiders spin their silvery grey webs in our heads. and soon it fills up the empty spaces. Like an over crowded attic, we will find it difficult to soon sort out the mess in our heads.

There has been a lull on this blog largely attributable to the fickle internet connection that I have access to by virtue of being in my home town. Chester Zoo, March 2011 The newspaper headlines that greet me everyday that cries out about infrastructure woes here and there, 'unidentified persons' (read militants) extorting money or shooting people, agitated people protesting for something or the other.. The power cuts that the population has learned to adjust their lives around.. The numerous billboards that advertise universities and colleges and jobs out of the State.. all of this raise in me a protest, a cry for a need for change.. My idle mind always gets me thinking about answers to questions.. Questions about why I want to do a course in Development Studies, why I am even thinking of joining the Civil services.. The one reason I am even thinking of these is I am discontented with life in this godforsaken city, I want change.. But I cannot keep waiting for the world...

Plans had been etched out days in advance, excitement had been brewing in us for quite some time. It was rather disappointing that we could not spare more days but the idea of a day trip to the Lake district is pretty much a great achievement for the seven of us whose every plan always flops or never even takes off from the launch pad. How could this trip have been any different. The day began rather ominously with us reaching the station dangerously close to the departure time. We, typical style, decided that we had enough time to fill up our fuel with sandwiches and baguettes, having rushed through back at home and feeling increasingly complaining stomachs. The platform, we thought (let me add) was right next to where the cafe was, and so we would be able to easily skip through the doors and board it on time. As it turned out one minute before the train departure, we realised the platform was on the other end and we needed to barge our way through several escalators and walks. As...

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