vivid dreams

I love stories like Lord of the Rings. Long arduous adventurous journeys, with a ragtag group of people, amazing landscapes and occasional adrenaline rushes. And I love when I go on such adventures in dreams, feeling like being in such journeys for ages. 

Of late sleep is disturbed and I get into limbo states where I am between sleep and state of wakefulness and remember the last bit of the dream. I am dreaming of apocalyptic worlds these days. Other day it was that the world is flooding and I am watching a building getting reconfigured by the flood that is lashing against it. 

I read in bed for some time before sleeping. Following this practice of fiction at night which helps to escape, from the days worries, into some other imaginary world. Non fiction in the morning, which helps to set the mind in analytical or contemplative mode and prepare to face the day. Other day, the dream had a bicycle prominently featured which now I know was from the book I was reading. Books simulate mental imagery more sharply since we created that ourselves in our mind from the script, than watching movies before sleep where images are someone else’s. 

Yesterday's episode in the limbo state was this. I am getting out of a house, presumably to go to a store. A cat (his size seems bigger, but I don't seem to be bothered) is lying outside and I ask him if he is coming with me. He ignores me. I ask again, seems he walks with me normally (I guess cats don't do this kind of thing, accompanying someone on a store trip, I didn't have such experience before, in this dream I seem to have memory of it and I seem to like the fact that he accompanies me normally). I give up and walk out and see a family of three. I seem to know them and that they are on vacation from a foreign country. The mother asks one of the kids if she wants to accompany me, for old times sake. I seem to have affection for one of the kids, presumably I have memory of playing with her earlier and i feel the affection and give her a squeeze. Now it seems there is some distance that must have crept up as the kid is growing up and like some of the American malayali kids, she is a bit aloof. But she agrees to walk with me and we set on it. I must have fallen back into deeper sleep after that. 

Now I realize some connection with The Last of Us (Disney+ Hotstar), a series that I loved last year - a post pandemic world where the human race was largely eradicated by fungi infections and the remaining people are sequestered into few places and a man and a kid sets up on a long arduous journey. Liked Pedro Pascal’s character as a reserved father figure and Bella Ramsey as the kid was awesome. 

I get the cat too. There is a heavily pregnant cat that sits on the same spot as I walk out of the house to the car. Other day i asked her “enjuva” (“what is it?”) in a tone that no one outside the family would imagine I would say. I caught myself as I was entering the car as to why I used the tone that I had used only with Chakki when she was little. She is the only child I had ever played with in my life as I treat all other kids formally like they are full human beings and I am not able to become playful with them, but luckily didn’t have any such inhibitions with Chakki. The cat usually ignores me, in the way cats can only do in their languid, disinterested way, occasionally meowing at me something which I don’t understand. 

sulaimani

I went out of the way yesterday, taking a detour from our way home, to buy sugar free Passion Fruit extract, fielding questions as to why I can’t have tea without it now. 

It started from a trip, on a idyllic afternoon, with nothing else to do. I used to think if we take a right turn anywhere from our place at Kollam, we would run into the sea and if we take a left turn anywhere, we would run into some lake. So we did just that. Took a right turn into a random lane and kept driving aimlessly, through the narrow lanes. Life changes as we keep going in. Sleepy temples with its large peepal trees and aalthara on which some would be sleeping or some local friends would be joking around or a football team may be cooling down after playing on the dusty ground nearby. A tortoise dries itself on a tree trunk jutting out of a small, dark green pond. 

We stopped at one of the “beaches”. I wondered if there wasn’t an old church which was about to fall down there last time when we chanced upon it. Asked a chettan who was sitting in that sweltering heat and he said it was demolished and they may build a new one in its place. Coconut trees around may be trying hard to survive in such heat, trying to dig its roots deep in this sand and looking stunted. Sand around these places are dark, rich with minerals. I joke that I can smell my way to the beach, but I was looking for this dark sand and trying to follow that trail to find the bylanes that lead to the beach.  

We continue to drive along the coast. For a good stretch, I find that the road is neatly paved, end to end, with no outgrowth of grass or bush on either side and all the boundary walls of the houses are painted fresh. Even if the house itself may not be painted. I wonder if the community decided to beautify their road, who had the drive to make it so clean and whether they had to convince all the families to find money to paint the outer walls. We stop somewhere with a little nook to park the car on the side. Chakki and I climb the makeshift stormwall made with boulders near the sea. There are couple of people playing cards, maybe waiting for the heat to subside before going on with their work. 

For some time I used to think that life is not the busy hurrying and the big buildings near the city, but if we head five to ten kilometres outside the cities and turn anywhere, that’s where it is. While travelling by bus or train and looking wistfully outside, I used to force myself to extend my gaze beyond the immediate view that we lazily overlook and look farther in, to imagine what it must be like, and what the days would be like there.  

After some time we decided to change course, hit the left and explore the theory of ending up on the lakes. After a long time of aimless driving, at times ending up in lanes through which the car could barely pass, we break out of the wilderness onto a beautiful temple on the side of a lake, with an on ramp for the boats. A bit farther out, road ends into a boat jetty, the jankar was just coming in and we have no way of turning back now. I had never taken a car into a jankar before and had no idea where this was heading, but we got in, strapped the car down and got down. People on the boat explained that we could get down on the next stop, drive further and wouldn’t have to take the boat back again. 

On our way back home from this, stopped at this “kappi cafe” with promise of “not a kappi, but an experience..”. I am sucker for sulaimani, lime tea that is served after biryani in some malabar restaurants. Especially after the movie, Ustad Hotel.

Oro Sulaimanilum oru ithiri Mohabbat venam. Adhu Kudikumbol, logam ingene padhukazhai vanu nikenam” (Every Suleimani needs a bit of love in it. And when you drink it, the whole world should slowly stop and stand still)

The one who was making tea here looked like an arabian sailor and I asked him for passion fruit sulaimani and a normal one for chakki.

Soon after that, I found this passion fruit extract in a store and since then, I only make this version of the tea at home in the morning and evening. I am not sure if I found the secret ingredient, but it is one indulgence that I look forward to every day.   

(Reading “The Covenant of Water” by Abraham Verghese for hours today, immersing myself in this beautiful story based in Travancore, my place, about hundred years back and was thinking about the other waterworlds around me)

weekly notes, wk4 / 2024

1.

For the last couple of years, I watched almost all of Liverpool’s football matches, since I liked their manager, Jurgen Klopp. I liked his energy, affection for his players, passion, commitment and the joy on his face when they do well. He announced yesterday that he is leaving the club. He says he ran out of energy. How do you quit the things you love? How do you have such conversations without wanting 10% to leave the door open? How do you have such clarity? Quitting at the top, allowing time for transition, leaving in the best possible condition, with love for all, leaving when people don’t want you to leave than leaving when people hate you. 

"I love absolutely everything about this club, I love everything about the city, I love everything about our supporters, I love the team, I love the staff. I love everything. But that I still take this decision shows you that I am convinced it is the one I have to take.

"It is that I am, how can I say it, running out of energy. I have no problem now, obviously, I knew it already for longer that I will have to announce it at one point, but I am absolutely fine now. I know that I cannot do the job again and again and again and again."

2. 

I rewatched some of the episodes of season 2 of The Bear. In the episode titled Omelette, there is a segment where the main character is told to focus only on this, given restaurant business is a risky business with nonexistent margins. Live this and nothing else, give up every minute, every drop of blood. In return, you will be kicked every day for the foreseeable future. So why do people do it? I was thinking this is what could have happened to Jurgen Klopp. How long can you focus, with high energy? 

The best, heart touching moment, was when the two chefs tighten the screws on a table and discuss what scares them. Life and work is a long struggle, drudgery for years, day after day. It would be possible only If we do it with people we want to do it with. 

You could do this without me.

I couldn't do it without you.

Yeah, you could.

I wouldn't even wanna to do it without you.

You make me better at this.

You make me better at this.

3. 

Finished reading the second book of the year - Yellowface, by Rebecca F. Kuang. I should have read the plot bit more carefully before picking this up, otherwise I wouldn’t have put myself through a torture. It is written well, but not sure if I need this now. I stay away from horror movies due to the same reason, why drag my poor heart through that. The book addressed a lot of topics - publishing industry, plagiarism, racism, reverse racism, asian history, cancel culture, cyber bullying, jealousy, rationalizing bad behaviour, loneliness. It is interesting how the human stories are now unfolding in social media. What people say in Twitter, Instagram etc affecting them deeply, acting out online vs offline. 

Passage below made me think about writing. Why do I ramble? It is for my peace, unburdening of my heart, to bring clarity to the mess in my head? Each of our stories must be epics, the complexity of which has never been captured at that scale. 

“Writing is the closest thing we have to real magic. Writing is creating something out of nothing, is opening doors to other lands. Writing gives you power to shape your own world when the real one hurts too much. To stop writing would kill me. 

Writing has formed the core of my identity since I was a child. .. gave me  a reason to stay alive. And as miserable as it makes me, I’ll cling to that magic for as long as I live.” 

4. 

Met some friends for lunch this week. One of them with whom I had a coffee every day for many years till a year back when he moved to another city. Someone level headed, zen like, with whom I could say everything that is going on and in that process gain some clarity. Missed him dearly. 

silences

Khamoshiyaan aawaaz hai

Tum sun ne ko aao kabhi

This is a 10 year old song, but came across recently and became an instant favourite. When the lyrics, singing and music fits just so. It could be the soundtrack for my January. 

“Is not January the hardest month to get through?” - Henry David Thoreau

Sometimes when you see your thoughts reflected everywhere, meaning of some songs or quotes or sayings you see which seems to resonate. It could have been meaningless or overlooked at other times.      

The tight grip on the heart loosens sometimes, the rock that sits on it shifts, clouds part and there is sunshine and there is mental clarity when I see the larger struggle of everybody. Perspective plays hide and seek, contracting and expanding. Resolutions are like sharp objects that scrape against the skin, reminding though the pain. 

Sit with the discomfort, this too shall pass, time is the healer. 

Just then, Wild Geese comes on the A Poem A Day feed.  

sleepy weekend

I looked up from the book, the sun had set and I suddenly remembered I hadn’t done my run today. I hate to lose the streak, so get ready and go out. I choose the discover weekly playlist, need to listen to new voices and sounds, going through an anti nostalgic phase.

The main street is lit all the way, it has turned into a night food street, lined with all kinds of food stalls selling momos, chat, dosas, typical kerala non veg dishes, sherbeths, sodas and tender coconut shakes. I make my turn into the lane which is in stark contrast - one side with thick vegetation, almost forest-y. Moon is two thirds, clear starry sky. It is very quiet, perfectly still, no wind, not even one leaf moving. Almost all street lights are working, except a patch which is pitch dark. A large raccoon crosses my path and goes into the bushes.

I had been tired all day and sleepy. Lethargy is the right word. Started the day with a video call with a few friends with whom I haven’t spoken in the last few years. We used to have lunch daily and talk about everything under the sun for an hour or so every day, now we are scattered in three countries and different companies. I remember when I parted with one or two of them, wanting to memorize that very moment since I knew I won’t be seeing them for years after.

We went to a marriage today. Relatively less crowded, peaceful. Bride and groom were made to touch the feet of lot of people and get blessings. During the ceremony, bride was touching groom’s feet before receiving the pudava. She asked me if she did that. I said I don’t remember, but pretty sure we did not do that.

In between sleeping, I was rewatching The Bear (cooking and restaurant oriented drama series) which I am obsessing over now. The only web series I am watching again and will probably rewatch in future too. I love the writing, the characters and out of this world acting by some of them. I was reading up on kitchen lingo used in it, chakki asked me what am I reading, saw this and asked how is this useful. I said this is for general knowledge.

Copied this to the side of my to-do list, as a reminder.

"We can't curb

that kind of chaos

Until the thinking changes.

Until the foundations change.

Until the chemistry changes.

And it's difficult."

- From “The Bear”

weekly notes - wk 3, 2024

One of the few blogs that I have followed for more than a decade is Thejesh’s. I started following when he was in our company blogging platform which was such a vibrant community until someone who didn’t know the ethos of blogging disrupted it. Continued to follow him after he left Infosys. He writes Weekly Notes which I look forward to every week. I was thinking of doing the same, hope I can keep it up. 

January feels like a long month. There is so much that happened and a week and half is still left. 

Chakki had her last school annual day yesterday (last for us too). She sang a song, played keyboard in an instrumental band, accompanied the prayer song and school anthem on keyboard and delivered the last lines in a drama dressed like an IAS officer. It was colorful and all the kids did a great job. So much effort from everyone would have gone in to prepare and I am sure the kids will remember for a long time. I was thinking a week back about Chakki reading the book “Lessons in Chemistry” to know what the world will be like and to be mentally prepared for it, but I think it may not be needed. She chose songs for the band to play, made sure it is what others would want to hear, convinced a kid who was good in western violin that she can do film songs and helped her with the music notes, taught a kid who never played drums and one who was a bully to her earlier, fought with the teacher about wrong choice of tones and stood firm when she was right about some music while he was not and proved him wrong. She can tenaciously fight for what should be fairly hers and won’t allow others to take advantage of her. I hope there won’t be many tears.     

  

When I saw my Spotify Wrapped last year and saw my old favourites still at the top, had decided to explore a bit of new genres and singers. First discovery of this year came through the Spotify algorithm (I am trying to stay away from algorithm recommendations, but in music it is difficult anyway) - Faasle. It is always fascinating to discover a new song that I could listen to in a loop for days. How does it happen? What in it hooked me? When would I discover a new one next? Some months go by without encountering any new music that becomes my new favourite. I hope I find more such favourites this year. 

Half of the new year resolutions are so far intact. Started a 100 day steps challenge in HDOR (Hundred Days of Running) on January 1st and so far keeping it up. I did HDOR last year and for the very first time in my life, walked/ran for 100 days continuously. Hope to do two such this year. I realise once I make a commitment like that and there is a tracking, I hate to break that. I might not have done it otherwise. I continue to take the same route every day and do about 3 km per day. It helps me to catchup on podcasts and music as well. 

I am learning Spanish using Duolingo. It was in my wishlist for years. I love the way spanish sounds and it is one of the most spoken languages in the world. I finished 50 days streak yesterday, doing a little bit everyday. I had learned French towards end of our engineering from Alliance Francais, sponsored by the company. I had learned German for some time during school, taught by a saayippu (an old ex-military man, reclusive) who was technically our neighbour. I don’t remember much of both languages, but the times that I learned both were beautiful and have so many memories of those days. Spanish learning is getting tougher, but I hope to stick with it this year.

Finished watching two movies over multiple days - 12th Fail (Hindi, Disney/Hotstar), Parking (Tamil, Disney/Hotstar). Both predictable stories, but watchable. I came across Vikrant Massey first time through a short film, Detour, which I loved so much that I followed its director since then. 

Took a session on “Developing Business Writing Skills” last week to the team. I had offered to do that on a whim, seeing some bad writing. I had to spend quite some time thinking about what to tell them. It didn’t go as well as I thought, but I hope I could give people some tips to follow. One person pinged afterwards, said he would start writing and share a draft of his first article with me soon. That made it worthwhile, if I could influence atleast one person.

I had started writing a running list of learnings, thoughts and ideas. My hope is that by writing down what I read, listen or experience in my own words, I can absorb the learnings more. Shared that list with the team for the last 3 weeks. 

There are some hard problems for which I don’t yet have solutions, but I hope to make progress this year. Started writing to put those on paper and hope to gain clarity in coming days. Shared the draft with the team to get their thoughts on it. 

movies and seeing into the soul

I had taken a resolution to watch, listen, read from artists or authors outside US, to get more wider perspective. Followed this resolution to finally blow through some of my long pending watchlist of movies from other countries with a Mubi subscription. Drive My Car (Japanese, felt it was a forced story), One Fine Morning (French – this one portrayed the anguish of the children, and helplessness of the parents towards the end of their lives), Aftersun (Scottish, bored me, but pulled at the heartstrings of quiet desperation of a father who couldn’t hold things together), Worst Person in the World (Norwegian, understood the need for someone to not get tied down or not settle, but felt pointless), Decision to leave (Korean – beautifully shot and sad), Past Lives (Korean/American – slow and confusing, the situation must have been painful, but it didn’t feel as much for me).

All these were leading me to a conclusion that it is so hard to depict true feelings of people going through hard fights throughout their lives, their momentary joys, anguish, dilemmas, and suffering. But then closer to home, watched a few films which I felt did better. Nanpakal nerathu mayakkam (Malayalam/Tamil, Netflix) – how would it feel if someone you thought were permanently lost came back in another avatar for a day. I felt the role of the widow in this film would have been the toughest, but it wasn’t explored much.  Kaathal – the Core (Malayalam, Prime) – while it wasn’t perfect and sort of restrained, the openness of relationships despite the disagreements, silent acceptance of fate of life and leaving the destiny of oneself to others felt real. Three of Us (Hindi, Netflix) – beautifully shot and poetic, real difficult puzzle of a life problem and how three people would deal with it. Loved the transparency in the relationships and freedom to express the feelings however complex or embarrassing it maybe. Became a fan of Jaideep Ahlawat.

Yesterday someone told me, there is a web series based on the book, “Lessons in Chemistry”. I said no, I am good with the book. I didn’t want to spoil my mental image of that world and the experience of traveling with them, by seeing someone else’s interpretation of it. Then happened to see the below quote which perfectly expressed what I was feeling.

"In films, we are voyeurs, but in novels, we have the experience of being someone else: knowing another person's soul from the inside. No other art form does that. And this is why sometimes, when we put down a book, we find ourselves slightly altered as human beings. Novels change us from within." - Donna Tartt

weekend read

A classroom with 4 big doors, corridors on either side, large french windows opening out on either side, high wooden ceiling painted dark brown, and thatched roof above it. This is where I could spent few hours reading “Lessons in Chemistry”, a delightful book that got me off a reading slump. It is a 190 year old college in middle of the Trivandrum city, University College, that I had passed by thousands of times, but had never set foot before. It had evoked a sense of uneasiness before, due to student politics and conflicts. One would pass under a giant red star at the main gate, classroom that has a poster of Che with the words “Better to die on one’s feet, than living on one’s knees” and the flag bearing “സ്വാതന്ത്ര്യം, ജനാധിപത്യം, സോഷ്യലിസം” (independence, democracy, socialism) hanging over the window. There were students in the campus over weekend too, carefree, some shooting for maybe a short film, helpful volunteers for the quiz program for chakki that we came for, earnest teachers who were trying to make sure the classroom where we would wait is swept clean. For three hours, I could read in an airy room which felt like air conditioned and got through good part of my first read this year. 

Coming to the book. It will be among the ones I would want chakki to read. To know what lies ahead for her – prejudices, stereotyping, people who would undermine her constantly, pay her less than her male peers and still retain the will to fight for what is rightfully hers. It is a story of an unwed single mother who is a brilliant chemist, asking the world to take her as she is. Story dragged in some parts, but it was one of those books that I didn’t want to end. Once I got into that world, I wanted to stay there. 

I feel along with this one, some of these books could belong to a new genre – A Man called Ove, Eleanor Oliphant is completely fine, Less. People who deviate from social norms, who are alienated, but being the best version of human beings that they are, they find their tribe and succeed. I was feeling this is becoming formulaic, but even so, I am sold on this as it gets one to read. 

long unbroken threads

 It is Saturday evening and I am walking towards the barber’s place. It is that sort of golden evening, sun is setting, bright, but not yet gloomy. I am walking through a busy four way junction, with bus stops and shops on all sides. But being in Kerala, it is not mad rush and not as dusty. There is still a calmness among the chaos, it is still possible to think about other things than survival. There is an old lady trying to jam a fifty rupee note through the donation box in front of the church, there are candles burning and there is a girl in pajamas cleaning around the Mother Mary’s statue. There was a lady coming towards me who looked at me and seemed to smile and not being sure I sort of nodded. It is rare since in these parts we don’t acknowledge strangers, especially across genders. There were parked city buses at the stop which were full with people returning home from the city. I see a row of faces from the bus looking out, expressions blank.  

I had been thinking about millions of lives around us. Each of them going about their day, absorbed in their worlds. There are hopes, dreams, disappointments, pain behind each façade and many of which nobody may ever know. It is incredibly sad to think about the loneliness of each of them carrying their burdens silently. How many do we care about? There are people passing us by that we don’t even think about. I guess if we start to care more, it will only lead to depression. I must have passed by some of the people scores of times that I later got acquainted with and didn’t even know they existed. Once we get to know, understand their history, become curious about them and start to care, then they are part of your world. Even when they become part of our world, do we wonder about their journeys – what must they be doing now, what are they thinking about, what are they happy about, what maybe troubling them? Maybe a few, only that much is possible without going crazy? Past friends fade and the ones too close gets taken for granted. It is a such a long journey through the years, experiences, heartbreaks, moments of joy. Among all, there maybe a few who we feel “belong to us”, maybe fated to be that way, where the connection is strongest, where the string doesn’t break all life. 

I climb the narrow wooden steps and get in the moldy barber’s shop, the kind the new generation may never step in and which may go extinct when the current ones close. My barber is looking gaunt, his moustache is white as snow, drooping over his lips. White beard and hair. He is usually bit more sharper about how he looks. He doesn’t talk much, except when he is drunk a little in which case he talks about his kids who are now in college, his brother and bit of farming he does. Today he is silent, except for occasional humming along the songs that come on Aakashavaani All India Radio which is constantly playing, whatever they broadcast. He worked on my head for a long time, meditative, working on it like a piece of art.