Finally I got my hands on Da Vinci Code. Popularity of this book has become some kind of myth in recent times. Undoubtedly it has become a worldwide best seller. After it was recommended to me by a friend, most days I see some mention in newspaper or people reading it in trains. In my circle of acquaintances, only new films, TV shows and music gets discussed and never a book – this may be the rare one. How many times have you discussed a new book release, checked reviews and tried to read it hot-from-the-oven not like after 50 years from the time of publishing? I watched a TV documentary called “Real Da Vinci Code” which visited all the sites mentioned in the book and ended up refuting many of the claims made in the book. I walk by a 175 year old Mary Magdalene church every morning and have visited Rome, Vatican, Paris, Lovre and London in recent times – that must be all the reasons to read this book.

I did contemplate buying it, but somehow decided against it, tried borrowing from friends and borrowing from library. Library had very few copies and they said another ten or so copies have been ordered, so finally placed a reservation and got it.

Against my best judgment, I described the quest for the book in so much detail to start with saying this – it didn’t live up to my expectations. In the same breath, I have to say that it was an interesting read, a very light one at that. I imagined it would be one of the best narratives to catch attention of so many people, but it was rather like a delicious sounding dish gone sour at places.

This one would definitely make you wonder why it has attracted so many people. Story plays the main role, it is something like you got a meaty idea for a story and then you invent some characters – professor to explain the concept, students to get suitably impressed hearing the hackneyed stories about PHI and produce adequate oohs and aahs etc. Narrative will have to compete hard against children’s books and still might find it hard to win. It is just a regular “thriller”.

Some of the ideas seemed preposterous to me. About the V formed by two people indicating sacred feminine, reverse V indicating male and the whole structure saying M and hence indicating Mary Magdalene etc. I think this is the problem of anything which is not scientific – anything can be proposed and there is no way somebody can prove or disprove. It is like somebody trying to find sexual connotations of 90’s America by analysing Friends TV series.

As to the question of faith and whether it catches somebody totally off-guard and makes them think whether all through their life they might have been founding their faith on a lie etc, somehow I am not able find the shock element in that. Probably because marriage, bloodline, goddesses are not new concepts when it comes to my religion. We have all imaginable combinations of mortal lives reflecting on to fables of gods and goddesses. I have read somewhere that Sita/Ram story is based on a real king who was loved by his subjects (not sure whether it is with supporting evidence). It is a very tricky thing to start discussing faith, but I think belief in god need not be tied down to certain symbols abolishing of which crumples everything you ever believed in.

Somehow I could pluck myself away from the imaginary clutches busy work and went on a trip to Italy and Switzerland. We rummaged through Rome, Pisa, Florence, Venice, Interlaken and Geneva in 6 days. Except for rather tired legs, it was smoothest trip irrespective of so much travel through trains, buses, flights and even boats. It couldn't have been smoother if not for Google and internet - booking hotels, finding places to see, buying even intercity train tickets and planning the whole trip without leaving home even once. We have truly come of age in our use of Internet.

Rome was another version of London and Paris with its share of monuments, art, museums, palaces and cathedrals. We went to Vatican first, stood in 2 km queue for security check, had our fill of Michelangelo and all others - they have painted, sculpted, sewn so much that after Sistine chapel everything starts to look the same. I don't have a very keen eye for art, but basically it looked grand. One thing I realized is I have my own fictional images of places stored away which I haven’t seen but just heard or read about. For example, in my mind's catalogue, I have pictures of Goa stored, whenever I command "Goa", it brings a view of beach with a bamboo hut by the side (probably from dil chahta hai), long clean beach, some coconut trees, laid back, happy people etc. The actual picture might be nothing like it. The trips like this just helps in replacing those fictional catalogues with something real. Now I have the picture of Rome as a place with some history, art, crowded metro/buses, and not so much complicated people.

We went to Colossuem, Pantheon, admired some of the grand piazzas and walked through the streets just enough to get the fill of it city. Somehow it has gotten into my head that just the monuments is not enough to credibly say that I have been to some place – need to get out into the place and see for real what it is at the present age than to get some wrong idea by looking at monuments built in 1500. I have spent 21 years of my life in Trivandrum, I have never been to Kovalam Beach which is a huge tourist attraction or Padmanabhaswamy temple which is grander than many foreign attractions I have seen – universal fact maybe. But I can vividly remember almost every small and large street in Trivandrum inch by inch and that is real.

From Rome, we traveled by train to Pisa. Got a glimpse of vast country sides. Pisa was nice, small, less crowded, regular Italian town. We got a hotel room almost the size of our apartment, bit old, but nice and cozy. Only thing to do was to go to the leaning tower, inspect from all possible angles, tried to push it straight and clicked photos from all sides. It was 20 minutes walk from the hotel through the labyrinth of narrow streets. It was a rainy Sunday and rain clouds were a constant threat, giving us a wet, dim lighted, almost deserted town. I think places looks distinctly different on a crowded Saturday afternoon and a deserted, drowsy Sunday night.

It is surprising how nice people are whom we see for a fleeting moment on the road. In fact some of them went out of their ways to help us with directions, walk us to hotels, making sure that we catch right trains and patiently sparing a moment from their busy lives to click a photo and say sweetly to “Come closer and Smile”. Everyone can be good nice people they are for a moment or two - it is only when confronted with situations with little choice to act in certain ways, they become nasty.

Florence was another variation, buildings with various shades of brown and old, magnificent cathedrals. It snowed a little when we got out of station after breakfast in McDonald’s (omnipresent fallback option). Churches in Florence had some different quality, something which I couldn’t place exactly – something more natural. Quite a lot of Chinese guys were there - in fact they are everywhere. Indian’s penetration in European countries might be just limited to London. In US, every "standard" long weekend spots will be filled with desis. I think I saw less than 10 guys in 6 days which is quite unusual. At the same time, Chinese are everywhere. In the lighter side, I was thinking that it is the most populated country in the world, so it is only natural that they are seen everywhere. I am quite impressed with their photography skills (proof of common sense?) and their interest and proficiency in using gadgets. Something made me realize that I have good amount of prejudice when it comes to Chinese guys - I can't tell between Chinese, Japanese, Korean people so all are Chinese to me. We know all about American dream, rap/pop/jazz/hip-hop, NBA/NFL, Prince Charles/Camilla, inside stories of British monarchy and Premiership Football. It is amazing how much general knowledge we gather about American/British, but very less about oriental other than those martial art films and that everything you buy from Wal-Mart is made in China.

Off to Venice on the fourth day. It had started snowing heavily on the way, but next day was more or less clear. Initially I thought in one day I may not be able to get a feel of Venice and we made a mistake of staying only a day in Venice. But in one day, you can really see enough of a place and may be that way we can leave with that good feeling before starting to find faults. Venice was vastly different from anything I have seen so far - kind of a "waterworld" feeling. Apart from Alappuzha in kerala, I have never heard about boats as the means of public transport. It must be horrible to live in a place without real trees and raw land to freely walk around. Nevertheless, for a day we had most boat rides as we had in our entire lives in a place resembling Hollywood movie sets. it was a wonderful romantic day, we walked through almost all of Venice, got really lost in the maze of streets even with a street map, had margherita for lunch in a sweet little pizzeria, enjoyed the hospitality of one of the friendliest of hotels we have stayed in and walked till we couldn't walk anymore.

Next destination was Switzerland and Interlaken. It was overnight journey by eurostar train. It was comfortable and we had a pleasant italian-swiss lady for company who was trying to speak English. By morning we reached Brig and started the most beautiful real life tour I have ever taken in my life so far. Using only two ingredients - whitest snow and endless mountains, nature seems to have created an amazing display. It is any day better than anything man made. Even the journey from brig to Interlaken was so beautiful that by the time we reached Interlaken our eyes got accustomed to the black and white display. Locked our bag in the luggage locker at the station and started on yet another dream like journey to top of Europe – Junfraujoch. It was a clear day and two hour journey to the top and back was unforgettable. White, untouched, pure snow almost flowing like a vast river between endless mountains – idea about what paradise might look like might have come from there. Last piece of surprise was extremely courteous hosts in Interlaken. Hotel owner had been to Trivandrum!
Back to Geneva which was boring after all this, but still paid a visit to UN and followed one trail into the city. A smooth flight back and when we reached Croydon it was snowing as if to complete the pieces of a riddle.

beam of light through autumn trees
warm on the cheek, lighting up inside
feeling light on feet, wanting to fly
a song playing in background of my soul, faintly
is there a hint of involuntary smile?

joy without any reason, like for real
would have danced if I was a kid
live this moment, not fear the next
don’t think, just live, maybe that’s an idea
“just feeling happy, don’t know why”

tired of feeling blue, dreaming up all ghosts
conscious of self, meeting expectations
trying to be nice, acting polite
analysing, criticizing, cursing and lying
somebody tell this kid, “that toy is not so great”

Came across article in Guardian about “What are friends for?” something in the lines of which I also have been thinking about for some time. I was taking inventory of how many friends I think I have and why I don’t have “best friends”. I seem to have a steady supply of friends but then losing touch with them in the course of this long trip called life and finally becoming just a memory relived once a year accidentally. Around every corner, you find new acquaintance, out of desperation to be in touch with humanity you make them friends, and then they fade away into the jungle of life like somebody departing on a train on a long journey.

Long time ago, when I still hadn’t discovered the “reality” of adult life, I used to think that friendship is the ultimate thing in a sentimental kind of way. Life is sweetly happy when you sit around doing nothing trading joking with them. If you take a joke out that context and repeat to yourself after sometime, it looks so silly, but you have laughed so hard earlier – it is amazing. All my friendships have been based on those silly jokes, is that the reason why none lasted for a long time?

I think there is certain frequency at which each individual operates. When you find somebody with same quality and when your liking is reciprocated, there is a chance of a friendship. Some people can never be friends how much ever time they spend together and some never can be anything more than formal.

In high school, you write pacts in blood that you will never break the friendship and on last day when somebody asks whether I will remember him after 10 years, it seemed so impossible. But I am not in touch with even one of my old school friends for over a decade. Only hint of friendship remaining is from engineering college and those four years have sealed some friendships, which you just cannot seem to break fully. Even those are bound to be worn out after couple of “How are you? How is life? How is work?” and then after a long time just a marriage invitation saying “Hi.. Cordially invite you with family to the auspicious occasion.. Regards..”.
Stories of childhood friendships or lifelong best buddies are just too good to be true.

It may be a cliché, but wise thing to do is not make best friends, then you don’t have to break up, worry about them not paying attention, not sharing their secrets or big news with you first and all that sentimental baggage. Or you don’t have to get conned by some “friends” with whom you seem to have a great time and then come crashing down to earth making you realize once again that there is no such thing.

I totally agree with the notion that friendship is kind of that lightweight relationship where you are not demanding anything and not expecting anything, so anything you get is just a bonus – be it some humorous moments or receptacle for venting some frustration. This relationship does not enter into a level where you start talking about big words like commitment, trust, loyalty and such. As long as everybody understands that and operates within the same guidelines, there is less chance of getting hurt.

Especially when the culture is changing into a “competitive work environment” and “performance based appraisals”, it will be difficult to make friends in office. With friends, we may not end up judging/rating/comparing and jotting down his positives and negatives or think how to outperform - when it gets to that, what you have is no longer called friendship in traditional kind of way. Maybe the ideal times you can enjoy friends is when you are not too much into reality of life (money, job, priorities) and once you have played all the games, get back to take the rest of the life easy. In between, it will only be transient friends.

I am becoming somewhat nostalgic about bright sunshine and blue sky. I can't seem to shake off the thought that precious moments or prime time of my life is getting wasted inside office, under artificial light, facing a wall cabinet or a cubicle separator, like a chicken waiting to hatch an egg. I happen to go out today morning, it was good day, cold but sunny. I felt bit envious of people who were walking in the streets - nobody is in a hurry to reach somewhere by some fixed time. It is absolutely liberated feeling - to travel in an empty train just looking out, without worrying about anything. I am having dreams about going out on a long ride with soft music playing in the background through deserted straight roads, landscapes changing from vast harvested fields, beautiful lawns with a sprinkle of autumn leaves on vibrant green grass or filled with mountains, valleys and occasional lakes - all taken out of movies, but it need not be that perfect. Nowadays my "happy place" is where I lie down without moving a muscle for a long time.

I wrote the above paragraph a week back, now I think I get a rotten smell like something kept out in the open for too long. I have rejected quite a lot like this now and the blog breaks are getting longer, almost at the verge of stopping it altogether. This blog is exactly one year old now, I was planning an anniversary blog some time back, but now just this will do. I haven’t been able to find a clear direction about what I want to write or why, but I think I will just do justice to the apt title which I had chosen. Meanwhile I got a professional feedback that I need to be more succinct. I just don’t like to edit, it is like trying to perfect something by cutting off some parts and adding something that seems more appropriate or beautiful thereby polluting the pure product. If I do that, sometimes the end product will be unnatural. I do like to ramble and maybe I am thinking that my only audience is myself. For a long time, I used to think that I have developed this companion inside me whom I can talk to, argue with, criticize and who can see everything that is tactfully hidden to outer world. Now I think sometimes as I am writing in the blog, going back over the text and correcting some thoughts, clarifying to myself, like keeping a never-ending autobiography. Unorganised thoughts may be my characteristics, I am hoping that one day it will all crystallize dramatically and be clear to myself and then I will attain my dream of that mature, rugged man – content and at peace with the world.

I really need to learn "writing with heart and then going back and rewriting with brain".

It is getting terribly busy again after a short break. Life is like clockwork, wake up at 6.20, if I am 5 minutes late, I will miss the train and if I am 5 minutes early, I will be relaxed a little bit and still miss the train. I liked that dialogue in "About a Boy" - "life is divided into time units, each unit consisting of 30 minutes. having haircut 1 units, dinner 2 units...” (I must be bad at dialogue writing. Even the reproduction from a recent memory doesn’t sound as suave as in the movie). I have this habit of daydreaming while brushing teeth and taking a shower – those are like quality time when I even get good ideas for the day – I totally agree to this notion that showers can be very inspiring.

It is 12 minutes walk from my home to train station. Now winter is almost here and morning walk is torture. So catch a bus from the end of the street, it takes 4 minutes from home to bus stop. That stretch of the road in the morning is in fact beautiful – bare trees at the end of autumn with its last frail twig visible, like a silhouette against mostly grey and very rarely orange sky, an old chapel and brownish buildings. On the way, an old lady will pass me by. If she pass me before I reach a certain point, I am going to miss the train. Before I reach the end of the road, I will meet a dog trainer. He will have different dogs every couple of days - he must be selling them too fast - he will have them in different sizes and colours. So I will step on to the road to avoid them - you see, I am afraid of dogs, even if they are on a leash. Their breed gave me enough reason to be afraid of them when I was a kid. I have the scars even now, only I can spot them - one on the palm and back of the hand when my hand was caught in his mouth and one strip of stitch on the arm when he clawed me.

I have this Nokia phone, which I mainly use for checking time in these walks. It is set 30 secs ahead of railway time. I will get a bus from that bus stop at 7.47. It will take another 4 minutes (if the driver is not new, if it doesn't stop at the next stop, if it doesn't get the next red signal and nobody tries to cross the road through a zebra line). Then out of desperation to reach station I will start having thoughts that my future is in my own hands and it should not be left to one inexperienced driver or un-timely red signals and that from next day onwards I will wake up early. So I will reach station by 7.51 and I can cross over through the side entrance. Only people coming from the side road uses that entrance, others by default take the front entrance which is heavily crowded. I am amazed why those guys who are running like mad to catch some train never think about this entrance. Anyway, I can coolly walk in, pickup a free newspaper and get to the platform to catch the 7.52 train which takes 10 minutes or so to reach my stop and from there another 10 minutes relaxed walk to reach office. So it is all timed.

In fact, within a minute if I don't get out of here, I will miss the next train to go home.

October was the busiest month so far and I took the longest blog break this time. If I don’t do something regularly I may end up stop doing it forever, so let me keep this going. I have started some posts during this period, but if I don't finish it off in one hard push, next day I may deem it as silly, pointless, or too negative and abandon it.

Meanwhile I have been discovering some new things to keep myself amused. First is Friends – TV series. I totally love it now. I wouldn’t have believed it if two years ago somebody told me that I will like it. I didn’t like shows where they insert audience laugh every 30 seconds as if they are giving cue for viewers that it is time to laugh. It is now used as a way to de-stress everyday. If you just overlook the fact that most of them are dirty jokes and all everybody does is dating somebody or other, it is very enjoyable. Brilliantly written, each character perfectly fits in and it is just something which totally clicked into a perfect groove. At times enough to make you roll with laugh.

English Premier League: It has everything. Drama, Suspense, Glamour and great actors. These people love the game very much or rather just love to be crazy about it. I used to watch Spanish league on and off because of Real Madrid and their star line-up- Ronaldo, Beckham, Sidane and group. But now, I get a free newspaper and 10 minutes of time in the morning (between stations) to read sports pages and get updated about the scores and game. Also once in a week, in a capsule, Match of the day with magnificent Gary Linekar. I know all the big names now and the fun is just starting. Watching sports gives this special kind of feeling - taking sides subconsciously, feeling the disappointment of loss and joy of a massive win, kinship with fellow fans and something common to discuss with people having nothing in common. When you hear somebody affectionately saying "what a waste of money this boy Rooney is" after he hit his debut hat-trick or at the end of a pointless meeting when somebody says “all that can wait. Now I will just go home, put on my red shirt and watch the game”, it just feels good.

Another of my fixations in recent past is “Serious” reading – it is something which I am not able to shake off after some miserable failures. I have been reading truckloads of Sidney Sheldon, Jeffrey Archer, Robin Cook, Clive Cussler, Michael Crichton, John Grisham and others during college. There used to be a pay per book library in Trivandrum called Elloor. It charges 10% of book’s price as rental; I guess this is a common practice in many metropolitan private libraries renting English books. So paperback books used to come cheaper and that too old ones have reduced prices, so save up from the college expenses for this. Before that it was Trivandrum Public library which had books with red or green hard cover with thoroughly dusted pages which became familiar to me as the colour of a library “book”. All these fictions (crime, mystery, action, world war, spies, law, a bit of fantasy and sci-fi etc) are without doubt interesting to read – so called thrillers or pulp fiction. But then I read some great ones once in a while like “To Kill a Mocking Bird” and those lightweight philosophical ones like Ayn Rand’s, then I think I was wasting time reading spy stories and it is time to grow up. After getting into job around 5 years ago, I had stopped reading altogether. Lately this serious reading thing started, so recently tried my hand at Umberto Eco, “Forrest Gump” etc but couldn’t even finish which is rare for me – not to finish something even if it is utterly boring. Need to decide which is better - “if you read, it should be for pleasure” or “pulp reading is like junk food”.

I think it is not yet time to make my decision to go back to murder mysteries yet. I am on the lookout for some true pleasures like “To Kill a Mocking Bird”, “Catcher in the Rye” or some lightweight philosophical ones. I haven’t got what is meant exactly by contemporary classics, but it sounds like what I want. So now fishing in Croydon central library which seems to have some good ones.