The things I did during my two month absence from salon.
Shifted my business from the city to the suburb. Very near to the Cochin University campus.
Removed one of my business associate from the partnership for unprofessional conducts in business.
Read the biography of the humanist thinker M Govindan.
Read the book 'Modern Painting' by the scholar Kesari Balakrishna Pillai.
Went back to my detailed study of Paul Gaugin and El Greco.
Read the book 'Kerala History' by sreeDhara Menon.
Completed The Roller coaster ride simulation.
Met a soft spoken guy named Jyothish- he is an animator. ( today i read a short story by him. It was good.)
Read a book with highly volatile content- 'Re-incarnation of Bharat' (The book is in Malayalam. the title is my translation) by Aurobindo.
Read the chapter on spinoza.(again!!!) from Will Durants story of philosophy. Fortunately didn't understand a thing.
Read the book 'Sree Narayana Guru'. (Biography)

So, from this shore, last two months was not that bad.

welcome home Clement.

sorry i wasnt around for a while.

I will get back to you soon.

One question to Clement.

Does Kerala look more greener now?

And thanks to Deepa for that call out of nowhere. Made my day.

Thought I'd say hi to my blog on my birthday. Last year, this time I was whining. This year I'm celebrating--just confirmed today that I am being transferred back home soon. It's been a long time coming. But what the heck. A big thank you to all the folks who made it happen; for all who cared.

Not that I expected much from Shanghai Knights. Its predecessor was a disappointment, in spite of Owen Wilson giving ample proof of his comic talents. Where Wilson stole the thunder from Jackie Chan in Shanghai Noon, Knights is most definitely a Jackie Chan flick. Of Chan’s Hollywood oeuvre, this latest is the one where I think he best displays his reverence for that movie icon to whom he is most indebted—the incomparable Buster Keaton. There is in this film at least one scene of pure cinematic joy: a chase and comic fight through the streets of late 19th century London, full of knee-slapping slapstick and exhilarating invention.

Alas, if only the whole film were like that. Owen Wilson, of whom I’m a fan, is comparatively subdued. The script is simplistic and contrived. Actually, the filmmakers do not aim too high. They just want to deliver a happy hour-and-a-half. And even there, it is just hit-and-miss.slfr

Alright. Silences mean something, but this has gone on too long that its absurdist intentions, if any, are compromised. In other words, I’m back. Hopefully.

From a mail I send to one of my friends a year ago. I feel like posting it in salon

"u r the one who forcefully told me about preserving my freedom and my independence. i have always carried that fire in me. even though i stick with my family, even though i am married, i never gave them the chance to control my life. the only thing they control in my life are silly things like ,how i dress, how i cut my hair etc. they can never control the way i think, the way i write, the way i paint, the way i look at life etc. once you open up this grand sense of freedom within you, nothing outside you can hamper you. nothing can hurt you.
think that you are the only one in this world who is interested in your life,which is the truth. dont let any body slow you down. preserving your self is the greatest duty one can do to oneself. that is what nature want you to do. your duty in this world is to develope the garden within you. concentrate on each of the plants in your garden. nurture them. dont go after the philosophies of the world. your garden is unique. no one in this world is interested in this garden,until it is in full bloom. once that happens the whole world will be interested and benefitted from it. the point i am trying to make is this. each one of us came to this place we call earth for a purpose. you are the only person involved in that purpose. kind of one man squad. preserve yourself until the mission is over."

Rhyme for Thomas

Fall fall roll and fall
steeply down the slope
cruely cruely cruely cruely
life is but a fall.

For several years I have been struggling to come to a decision regarding the act of giving alms to beggars.
Today I came to a decision. To give. Clement you may think why fobs took so long to come to such a simple solution.
Simple solutions are hard to make. Ask me to give you complicated solutions to problems. I can give you bag loads of them.

The reason for my decision is this: "Hunger can push them to the level of brutes.They couldve stolen from you but they are only begging.Beggars are better than muggers."

Caring for Beggars is more vital to our species than caring for dogs.

Any one who travelled at night in any metros in India will agree with me that beggars in the street are less vicious than street dogs.

So clement next time you see a beggar go for that fifty or one ruppee coin in your pocket.

If you have any different opinion regarding this I am ready for a debate.

Let's make some noise hear in Salon. Recently it has become so boring like a new wave mallu film.

slg

I think at last, surya bhagwan have desided to shine on my life.
Last month a very good friend of mine named Anoop, with whom I had no contact since september 25, 1992, called up at my home.
After three days, both of us were having beer at Avenue regent. It took me another week or two after Anoop left to get my orientations back. Things were happening like in movies. And today when I opened my mail there was another surprise waiting for me. Its a beautiful face with the name Vandana. She was Vandana Dutta before now she is Vandana Parikh.
What more happiness does a man need, than to meet his friends after crossing one of the wastelands of life.Thank you Snoopy, thank you Vandy.

"Philosophy is sublimated worry." - Paul Bowles.slq

slg

Just up the road from where I sit now in Bibwewadi, Pune, is the building where the D’Silva’s stayed until three days ago—that is, until three members of the family were identified as the first official cases of Sars in Pune. The spooky feeling I got as the news broke seems a little alarmist now. Still, even now I’m not fully cured of the intermittent thoughts of falling victim to this newest of mankind’s scourges. There was even a moment when I felt a semblance of relief at the thought of sure, if not imminent, death.

Camus’ The Plague keeps coming back to me:

‘Other men will make history... All I can say is that on this earth there are pestilences and there are victims - and as far as possible one must refuse to be on the side of the pestilence.’
...

‘We refuse to despair of mankind. Without having the unreasonable ambition to save men, we still want to serve them.’
...

‘The plague bacillus never dies or vanishes entirely... it can remain dormant for dozens of years in furniture or clothing... it waits patiently in bedrooms, cellars, trunks, handkerchiefs and old papers, and... perhaps the day will come when, for the instruction or misfortune of mankind, the plague will rouse its rats and send them to die in some well-contented city.’

And those scenes of the plague-infested town in Buñuel’s adaptation of Benito Perez Galdos’ Nazarin. And Scorsese’s bleeding-black tale of death and redemption Bringing Out the Dead—“I came to realize that my work was less about saving lives than about bearing witness. I was a grief mop.”—with that soundtrack of Van Morrison’s ‘TB Sheets’.

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I havent painted in ages. And I am suffering from demons within me.
Yesterday I read the essay Arundathi Roy wrote in Frontline about american aggresion in Iraq. As always it is pure H2SO4.
Again she proved the fact that she is the only one in the whole of Asia with balls. Shame on you fobbin.

Life is a slop
and i cant stop
got to keep rolling
to save my skin from peeling.

Hey Fobbin, like I told you when I saw for the first time that last painting you posted, it reminded me of a classic album cover. So I went searching for it, and here it is:



It’s the cover of In the Court of the Crimson King, the first album (1969) of the prog-rock band King Crimson. The painting is by Barry Godber, who died a year later at the age of 24—this the only cover he did.

slg