The Exorcist

I do not understand death. I do not think anybody does. So it is alternately painted with fearful black and romantic red hues. It is the same with God. We are never in harmony with God as we do not understand Him. May be for that in all religions God is invoked at the time of death. There seems to be a strong link generated out of the surprising resemblance. We love and hate them as they take the colors of our mind and follow the moods. Are they mere projections of mind !

God may be. I am not sure if you can convert him into the physical time-space zone and feel him. Many highly respected persons have tried to entice people into the Godly path with the promise of Vision of Him. It is widely believed that Swami Vivekananda turned to religion after Sri Ramakrishna showed him God. I don't know how to take it. It is almost blasphemous to question it. But then it is equally disrespectful to Swamijee's teachings not to question it, for the Veda have taught us not to accept anything without testing , and Swamijee taught the Vedic thoughts.In any case I am not inclined to believe that you can see God, till it is proved otherwise. I do not have any authority to give a verdict on the debate. But why should I try it. To each let there be his own thought. What we are principally concerned is how it affects us and not otherwise. To the best of my knowledge God does not affect us unless we attribute actions to him.

However death is different. It annihilates and recreates. It has physical manifestation. Just remember when 400 odd persons in fanatic frenzy destroyed the Babri Mosque before its time only to see it create a ghost which is haunting much after its destruction. See how Lincoln & John F. Kennedy haunt the American psyche. And how Mahatma Gandhi,Mrs. Indira Gandhi & Rajiv Gandhi haunt the Indian  psyche.  Clearly  whenever life is squeezed out before it flows out, death creates a ghost much more powerful than the living. This is the stuff Matyrs are made off, the creations of death.

Yet,  people are  killed only to create ghosts which haunt with much more vigor. Swami  Laxmanananda  was killed the other day.An old person who would have traveled into the territory of death anytime. He has been pushed into it brutally before time. A begining has been made.The unspent balance of energy is taking shape. It has started to haunt much beyond the territory he was working in. It meanders through the forests and spreads with the breeze to haunt a vast area with sorrow, revenge, pain, terror,shock and fear. The dark clouds are gathering at the horizon with all the fury of a tornado. Let the killers be killed, but who will save the innocent.We need an exorcist. Is any body raising his hand !

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DEATH

He is to retire in a year. A family of four and more. He keeps everybody around him happy with his hilarious jokes punctuated with high throated laughs. People just  love his company. It is not the least surprising to find him at the center of his family with everybody rallying round. His home is more of a hostel. Always some near and dear ones find it easy to stay with him for some time. He enjoys it immensely.
He considered himself lucky as he was nearing the retirement. His son has joined in a job. He was on the look for a match for his daughter. He has built a house of his own. He even purchased a car a few days back. A fulfillment by common middle class standards has set in. Why should he not feel happy ? He has made investments on people and all of them love him. What more he needs with love around and needs away?
When you feel contented perhaps a seed of disaster starts to grow. I remember my wife  warning  me whenever I laugh heartily for prolonged period  to stop it for otherwise some disaster strike may make me cry. Thats the way of life she says. There is always a balance. The more  you laugh the more you have to cry.
This morning his son took out the vehicle and went to enjoy  his time with his friends. They were to return by evening. Instead the news came that they have met with an accident. He waited in front of the hospital with his friends to take him to the doctor without wasting any time. Arrangements were made to take him to better facilities in case there is a need. The ambulance came in with the injured friends and the dead body of his son. The world crumbled. His friends stood around him helplessly. The cries of his daughter and wife ringed around. He felt something welling up in him. A nausea took over. He felt nothing. The world around him dimmed and moved around in caricature. His eyes remained still and focussed. Yet he saw nothing.
He was merely sensing the brittleness of everything around him. He is not sure where to move as nothing looked solid. A hollowness has entered into whatever is visible making them brittle. He is the laughing Buddha in mourning- stunned and fixed in time and space. No one knows where his steps will lead him next. He is in no man's corridor.   

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Buying A Laptop

My friend wanted to buy a laptop for the specific requirement that he wants to work in it lying on his bed. No PC can give it. A fairly good and honest assessment of his requirements. he knows that i am looking to buy a laptop for nearly two years and in the meanwhile  i have read many a reviews on most of the models available. I have not been able to make up my mind yet. But many of my friends have purchased one without much inquiry and are in love with there impulsively purchased pieces. I am still without one and i won't be surprised if i purchased a note-book by impulse. But like all failures in poetry writing i have become a good adviser in PC purchase.

Most of the companies are in the market with fixed feature models except for Dell which allows configuring by the customer. For normal browsing, listening to songs and watching films the entertainment models just manage the show. Rarely you will find good sound quality in these machines. the contrast is not that tempting nor is the protection available to the machines for working in dust and humid conditions we get here. Add to it the acutely inconsiderate after sell service, high rate of AMC and cost of insurance. If it is not enough to think hard the two and half hours of battery life and 1.5 kg and plus weight  o␀f most of these machines is disuading enough.
To reduce the cost most of the companies are proving low processing power chips (both CPU and GPU). While Dell allows configuring by the customer the time gap between placing an order and delivery is two to four weeks in most cases. The sales team of Dell is snobis and not very helpful.
Hence it is still a difficult task to purchase a laptop. Yet you want to buy it lest you are left out. However the recent  entry of low cost models placed in between palmtop and laptop with 8 to 10 inch screenes along with a Desk top solves the problem of mobility as well as storage. The cost will be almost the same. May be that will be the solution.
But them what about the rapid development in chips and softwares ? May be it will be better to wait further. May be next year will be the right tine. Let us wait amd see.    

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My Son

There he goes. His silhouette receding  against the backdrop of the city sky. A full six feet young body ambling out with the arrogance of youth and the beauty of youth, a carefree being reaching out to an unknown world in curious adventure. He walks gingerly with occasional furtive glances towards the window of my house at his back. He is unable to see me as i am inside the house without the lights on in the slowly darkening evening. But he is aware of my presence some where there watching him. He is yet to be a full grown man, but he has left the child far away while retaining the child like spontaneity to which he has added the over confidence of youth. The caution of the old is far off.
I almost felt nostalgic. A sweet yet bitter pain raising its head in my heart. I felt bad that he is going out to the college after a short stay with us. But I did not felt like stooping him. Yet I miss him. I felt him as a small kid pushing his chin in my chest and giving that happy enigmatic smile which makes you so happy. I feel the pride of a father as he walks out today on his own as a confident young man. But i am not as happy as I was on the earlier occasion. May be i longed to get him as a child always. May be I will love him as a child always, even when he grows to bigger size and bigger stature and give me a helping hand in my walk when I struggle to  carry my load of years.
Is this the way all feel when there little kid steps out to the college ? Is it the way all the fathers of kids well up inside ? How they envy the mothers who can shed the tears and express themselves while the pride and years of image building makes them turn away dismissively while watching the proceedings from some concealed spot ? Does my son know this ? How does he see me- as a cold and hard task master or a kind and tender human being buried under a hard mask created by the practices and brainwashing of ages which he is not courageous enough to shed nor good enough to accept.

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The STRIKE

Strike days are funny days in a worker's life. It is like punishing yourself for not being able to prevent somebody from doing some thing you do not approve. You waste your time straining your vocal chord in slogan shouting and end up loosing the day's pay. The employer looses a day's business earnings apart from the tension. Hence it is a winless game. At the end of the day both the sides carry the hurt. How can it work ? It can only work provided both the sides are civilized and cultured enough to feel the hurt on the other side. Can we expect today's money spinning owners and politicalised workers to do it ?

If not it boil down to a proxy war wherein each player tries to do the maximum hurt to the other side hoping to bring him on the kneels. Do not forget they will have to continue working together under the same roof for a considerable length of time after it. How is it going to affect the relationship there after ? Is it going to be forgotten like a family fight ? Will everything be just as it was before it ? Won't it transform them to worse ?

Yet, it is normal to find people toiling hard to reach settlements only after the strike and not before it. Each side feels any attempt at resolution will show them as weak. Is it because people lack self-confidence and look too much for approval to the gallery ?

Does it make them look silly or funny ? How to describe them when they are highly educated, skilled and well-respected in the society as front rankers in there line of trade and indulge in this game and hurt the bystanders in the process ? Why is it that the workers are always seen as the villian of the piece, whenever such a scene occurs ? Should it not be the responsibility of the powerful owners to stop it especially when they take credit for maintaining good industrial relation in good-times.