Maze of time

 In this difficult time , perusing your hobby is becoming a luxury.  You don’t have time , when you have some there is no temperament to peruse what you love to. Yes pandemic has taken a toll on all of us .  We wish the virus to vanquish , we all wish to revenge the devastation it has caused  . We are seeing innumerable accounts of hatred created out of it also.   

 

When you are away from what you enjoy things get suffocating. So I needed to reconcile with reading . But it is tough to have the royal combination of time and mindset amidst . I resorted to graphic novel once again and read two cult book Maus (Art Spiegelman

) and  ‘Palestine (Joe Sacco ) in last year. 

Maus – is about empathic narration of a son who revisits his father’s life through his neutral eye and tells the story of Fathers fate from an elite businessman in Reich to a Nazi prisoner to an immigrant in US holding to his charm and believe .

 Whereas  Palestine is a travelogue kind of graphic book  where author look into the misery of Palestine through emphatic ,satirical and at time gripping account of life in Palestine. 

 

Both are true events

The backgrounds are interconnected  

 

Both have successfully connected to the readers with the message that how things go beyond control once it slips away from your hand. The accounts told in the story goes beyond the narration time if we go to search roots of the problem. For more than thousand years one conflict has chronicled into layers of conflict across the globe. The entangled identity of religion ,race , language and pride and revenge have plagued and mankind again and again. 

We have attained knowledge but we have not learnt from it.    

Repeated efforts to change the course of history has always been mercilessly boomeranged. And to seek a revenge of Historical misfortune would lead to more holocaust.

 

We all know all that but still we fall in this trap again and again … 

The time , misfortune and misery of recent time is ripe for similar situation.

 Let’s reconcile to our past and walk the middle path in the time to come  

 

IKIGAI

I am not a big fan of self help book. In fact I hate most of the celebrated author in this category. The main reason may be might be my ego. I find it very ridiculous and funny if someone asks me what to eat, how to face life and of the foremost –how to think.

‘Think’ this the only thing that ‘I think I do best’

Then I lost my flow, forget writing I lost my art of thinking, reading and my philosophy.

My philosophy was –nothing

A subject matter that kept me engorged for about twenty years. It culminated in my last novel –Singhdwar. In the book the protagonist find sancta, six philosophies that artist Nicholas Rourich found answer the last stop of sancta was –And we open the door and the protagonist came out of nothingness and find a new meaning to life.

Many time writers are engorged in their plot and I was inside –Nothingness and my routine called life.

In order to reinvent myself I came back to my basics –to start finding time to read. I randomly ordered Viktor Frankele- Mens Search for Meaning. I was not a typical self help book but it worked as a self help to me. My ego was not affected as

1.      his suffering were much more than any human can imagine of (still he overcame it and emerged as a Hero) so I cannot accuse him of just another adviser

2.      and the book didn’t suggested anything like do this and do that but his philosophy of LOGOTHERAPY was based on finding individualised path to search for meaning of life

 

After some time I started hearing about this book: ‘IKIGAI -The Japanese Secret to Long and Happy life, and started seeing the book in roadside as well as leading book stores .Was little reluctant to buy it as I already have a long waiting list of must read books and yes paucity of time in this routine called life and off course it seems to be a Self Help Book with lot of advice that readers will never follow after few 

But I could not resist the temptation when a pile of book was purchased for college students by our college authority in order to promote reading habit.  I unabashedly asked my head of the institute –“May I have a copy of this book “?

To my relive Madam allowed very happily gave it to me in a public ceremony. So again in a bout of reading thrust I opened –IKIGAI and found it to be a continuation of my thought sequel –Singhadwar, Men’s Search for Meaning.

Author Hector Gracia and Fraces Miralles started with Victor Frankel and continued with how to search your own meaning of life. Simple steps to solve the modern life’s problem (with elaboration and emphasis on cell phone abdication) it also advices on

Eating habits (Eat 80% of your estimate to fill your stomach), returning to nature (a common modern day problem), getting rid of bad vibes, keeping the good vibes etc.

Most of the things we know we should do but never follow.... but this book is definitely an inspiration to follow a good habit in life.

And I liked it because it doesn’t enforce and rule but ask you to find your own IKIGAI that is reason for being.    

Growing with Recent History

History until than seemed liked tells of Raja, War, and British and at the best Freedom movement. History went out of fashioned after that in our age of formation.  Thanks to curriculum changes it went out of syllabus too, but my passion for reading and real stories kept my knowledge updated and lurked through the history book of my elder brothers’ .But those book finished with India’s freedom and few chapter on wars after independence.

Modern History didn’t existed then as India was a young country...did liked the fictional account of Salim Siani in Midnights Children or in Assamese Classic like Mrityunajay or Yairungum .

Than arrived William Dalrymple who popularized the methodical literature on History and History came to literary style once again and with recent hullabaloo in the atmosphere with History brought back all the curiosity in History. But sadly by this time our generations also become a part of History without knowing.

Now If I remember my Childhood we have lived through chilling time and saw History being made, sadly we have been part of dark time that constantly loomed over Assam after partition.

It was 1983 , I was about six I was in a little village in Bhutan Border  –school, college, university  were closed for about a year , the roads and traffic were mostly closed ,and electricity was never there ..Young Students never ventured out of Home in fear, and every night there were cries and we use to be awake ---some attack is imminent.Sometime there were News of Immigrant attacking Ethnic people sometime there were clashes between Ethnic Assamese speaking and the Bodo communities. Sometime t is the news of Paramilitary picking up young students and….Thankfully we felt relatively safe as we lived in a Hospital premise as my father happened to be the only doctor serving a huge area and giving service to all community. We were assured that the ‘they’ will not attack us...

Moved to Guwahati after that   and saw a new era …Saw How people en mass hated the ministry borne out of 83 election boycotted by Assamese people. Do remember faintly listening to lecture of Prafulla Mahanta than leader of All Assam’s Student Union. Then saw the sea of people welcoming Assam Accord signatories … I think I was in class II ,the 85 Election and everyone of us trying to draw Elephant the election symbol of AGP , the political party borne out of Assam Agitation. (1979-85, where800 + died protesting and an uncountable death and deception till today). Than the fall of   AGP – I think it was in class six or seven .Our textbook contained a poem called The Patriot by Robert Browning …AGP felled just like him.

We used to listen to new kind of story...at fist news of young man entering the house of businessman, to official and tea planters and asking for money...after few months news of death sometime of the young boys who wanted to bring justice ..Or of some businessman who made some more bucks …

Every news use to make sensation, debate and we grew with all that

Than few arrived few powerful dreaded men. We attained youth hood by then. Often confronted few dreaded man who looked like some DON out of underworld movie...We use to see them in Pan Shop, in front of bars ..And there were an unsaid law –avoid them, don’t overtake their car –They have Gun which can fire anytime. Those were the boy who vowed to liberate the ‘broader Assamese’ pride till a few years back becomes ‘promising’ business man by then.

The restlessness continued and people started vanishing...More dead bodies, part of human bodies started recovering. This time they were not of any rebel or businessman. Man of all sphere –government official , writer , pan shop owner ,doctor who lived simple and humble life were killed by still ‘unknown’ miscreant .

I was a medical student then. Restless with all the news but with a hope that things will be better soon as ‘we have the power to change the world’ for good.

The ghost of the past keep me hunting ….and often feel bad when that strength of my optimist hope is getting alienated as times passes ..

Then the doubt of amnesia.

Am I forgetting my past …

BY then documentation of     recent History has become a trend and thankfully I got my reading rhythm back. And brought the copies of following books

Assam: The Accord, The Discord by Sangeeta Barooah Pisharoty and Gupta_Hatya (Secret Killing) - A collection of report on secret killing that took place in Assam.

The first book- is written from all prospects keeping in view of the Indian Subcontinent and international reader who are interested in Assam’s problem. Written with a balanced view the book can be read with a neutral set of mind. And the second book give chilling accounts of death which have no answer even today.

The Real Munin Barkotoki

The Real Munin Barkotoki

• Publisher: Tiger Print (10 October 2019)
• Language: English
• ISBN-10: 9389231655
• ISBN-13: 978-9389231656

In the tunnel of self criticism I often ask myself   “Am I an introvert or extrovert?”

Perhaps both!

What lead to such thoughts was nature of few friends. They are extremely talented creatively but gave it up just like this.  They are more talented than me, have more knowledge about the subject and start some project that could have been a unique masterpiece but they gave it up just like this!

I first observed the trait in few of my artist friend while working for some creative project in college. We had some goal, a deadline, burnt a lot of midnight oil in the project but they refuse to complete the work citing perfection. To us the work he finished is a masterpiece but the creator is not just happy with his work ….

Then I found many writer, musician, wild life enthusiast and   artist (off course!)  Who have abandoned project of high potential and continued with the journey itself. I feel pity why they are like this (In my search for exactitude I already declared that absolute perfection is pathetically comic even in the comic book.

Then I got information about this Graphic novel “The real Mr.Barkotoky”  because of two reason I got interested in the book as

1.      My name is involved with Mr. Munin Barkotoki as I happen to be recipient of the prestigious award named after him

2.      I was little invidious of the fact that something like graphic novel is coming out of Assam for the first time conceding my ambitious  planes about the genre .

Order in Amazon failed but luckily a gracious soul got to know it and sent me a personal copy. Good/bad thing about creative product is that you can peek into the creator’s soul. And in this book I could peek into two soul –one that of Mr. Munin Barkotoki (the real one) and of the author Shisir Basumatari. My inference both of them are perfectionist and introvert.

The project is bold even in the graphic fiction genre, and we can see a lot of hard work knowledge and international metaphor shaped in a sort of fiction. But it contains mostly real person and events.  In the protagonist we can see the author and to move the storytelling forward he has created two character (Dr.Das and Captain D ). The life, diary of and events of the real Mr. Barkotoki has been unfolded with mystery and we can see how the search for exactitude can sink a person like the real plutonium that has been lost in the Himalaya in the time of cold war (Both real incidents). Many other real characters from Assam and the world (Dr.Jack Kevorikan) appears in the book, events like Chinese aggression of Assam , the arrests that took place in the time of Emergency are also are also tactfully interwoven into the narrative .Many paranormal, physiological, philosophical questions are raised sometimes like a thriller sometimes like a documentary the book  tell us the protagonists struggle with REAL BAD HANDWRITING of Mr. Barkotoki . I too belong to that elite group of ineligible handwriting  but thankfully Micosoft word came for my rescue in 90’s  which is much more handy than the ‘letera’ of Mr. Barkotoky. Technology has a lot of darker shade but I have to admit technological advances have empowered the minnows like me to overcome our shortcoming. And I have observed formation of a group of silent ‘talented’ selfless workers through technology. Say the netizen are burning midnight oil in adding article on Wikipedia in Assamese language, many worker wokers are making online database/app of dictionary containing meaning  indigenous word (Assamese ,Bangla , Bodo ,Karbi , Missing ,Rabha ,Dimasa ,Khasi  end ) and their mutual translation , Many are working day and night in Google translate or and other translator engine so that the language ,identity and culture gets their due in digital and international platform. Such work does not have much recognition as such but many people do it for share responsibility to their cultural identity.

The self criticism than deepens …If they are perfectionist, talented (much more than me) than who am I …and Escapist? Half cooked opportunist? The self pity deepens. Perhaps I am but besides being a social introvert and opportunist extrovert in my comfort zone but I differs from that good or bad if vow to complete a project that I have undertaken I have nightmare until and unless I complete the project. Thankfully Author Sisir completed the project and shown us a new facet to the art of storytelling. 

Girish Karard

Photo courtesy :Wikipedia

Few people ignite your mind and become constant source of inspiration. He was one of them. But his inspiration was silent one. My upbringing was a regional one and it the time of turbulence. Assam was burning in 80s and 90s.

Till than I knew him as an actor. Then the passion for cinema started. One Sunday evening dordarshan was supposed to play Kalyug the movie by Shyam Benegal. Till then I knew his value so sat down to watch it eagerly from the very first.  After about 15 minutes I realized that it was a screen play adapted from Mahabharata. It was a perfect adaptation in modern time to me.

I wanted to know the script writer. It was Girish Karnard.  The movie, the script inspired me and I understood the value of Girish Karnard. I never had the opportunity to see Utsav, the movie he directed. (How can I? it was regarded as adult movie. Thanks to the spicy Media my impression was also not that high about Utsav until I discovered Girish Karnard the original writer and thinker)

Then while lurking inside the district library bookshelves I discovered a collection of his play. I had a long association with Assamese Armature Theater throughout my parallel carrier as a medical student. (1994 to 2006 it’s a lot of grilling we all medicos has to face) . His plays thrilled me because of various reasons. Originality and appeal is acknowledged by all. The political subtext I was not aware of (or cared for till few years back) My appeal to his stature was because of my regional sentiments. I always thought and believed that regional language has all the appeal and talent to get international attention. But the gap between the killer language in which I am writing and my regional language is too vast. In those days may Salman Rushdie had uttered something derogatory about the regional language of India. It pinched me like anything. And I wanted to answer him back (though I know I was and still am a nobody) At that moment Girish Karnard was a real answer to Rushdie’s allegations that vernacular language don't have any potential and contribution after independence . This man with Marathi as his mother tongue, prolific in English , PhD in  Mathematics from UK was writing in Kanada and has a world wide appeal. After that I have followed his activities.

 His strong public intellectual activism and persuasion of historical and mythological myth in creative writing are unmatched. Could not meet him personally, could not watch more of his plays on stage are few of my disappointments.

Joyce's Ulysses, Many Dickens and Shakespeare.. Rs.200 /kg

The town I live now a day’s; don’t have a book shop dedicated to literature. And life is taking such a shape that I hardly get any time to read and ponder about the matter. Still the company of book, the process of flipping over the pages and discovering something new exits me. I wish I could read more...and after trying again and again buying at random I manage to continue the habit of reading.

Only yesterday after five hours of exhausting scientific meeting and three hours of journey to Jaipur (the city of JLF) we got hungry and wanted have a quick bite.  We saw a mall nearby and all of us ventured in towards its food court. While coming back and waiting for the car to arrive I saw a tent full of books in front of the mall

BOOKS SALE#

#sale Rs.200 /kg !

A quick scrolling showed James Joyce's Ulysses, Many Dickens and Shakespeare and even many modern day bestsellers also. Book regardless of its merit, value, genre @200/kg?

This degradation of value of books is someone new to the history of mankind. You can argue by giving the stats of ebook, audio book in the market. May be some are reading them... but are they also processing the information ?

 Blame it on cell phone and various apps. May be it is true. Till laptop we could sneak out time to read, to process the information gathered in the gray matter and compartmentalize them systemically. Gone are the days. Now we have become mere data generator to the data hungry corporate and some unknown Big Brother. Pawn in the battle about which we are not aware of .

I saw Gulzar,'s suspected poem. Always a Gulzar fan. SO looked at the Price 299..

How much? I asked  

 : Rs 150.  The vendor replied.

 Thanks Gulzar sahab... your popularity still have some market sense.

Man’s search for meaning

I would share my personal problem with my experience with search for meaning. One’s believes (or the thought process behind it) has extreme polarity.

Take my case, early in my childhood when I saw Amitabh Bachchan (A criminal) in Dewar asking his brother Shashi Kapoor (A Police Inspector) the famous line –“Jao ush admi se sign leke aao…. At that time I thought the whole world was wrong but Bachchan is right

But as I grow up my bad habit of observing people’s behavior intensified I observed that it is a recognized technique of any person who has been caught on the wrong foot to come up with hundreds of excuses. (My friend in psychiatry calls it Psychological projection)

Gradually I become a strong denouncer of this and started a strong self analysis of myself everyday). It is tough and problematic as I continued to search for meaning in everything. But all I found was -nothingness. I had to accept the philosophy under it and continued even if there is nothingness in everything. So these search for meaning become impractical.

As life continues, I embraced it, as it is unavoidable. But due to strong self analysis- self pity, self blaming lead to a miserable state of mind.

Ones identity is his thought process – gradually I had none as I got emerged in daily mechanical life and lost the time and appetite to analyze anything to my liking. I was immerged in the vortex of a vicious cycle. And saw me degrading (spiritually) as well as mentally.

Seeing it as a danger sign  I started the process of reconciliation (with me)and started doing what I like most –reading and thinking (writing comes next) may be after a year or so .

It’s a small book named: Man’s search for meaning (Viktor E. Frank)

While considering my life as miserable, I was amazed how this man found spirituality even in the most unfavorable condition inside the dreaded concentration camp. Coming from an affluent Jew family, a physician of merit, fate led him to the concentration camp. With humiliation to the core, hunger, death (of friend, family) and what not he continued his spirituality, survived all the possible danger and noted the point that there is purpose to every life (even in most unfavorable condition). This meaning may be some creative work, someone you love or something you wish.  And if you pursue it (and if you are lucky enough, unlike many of his friend and family) you may become a higher human being (there is no guaranty but that is the only option we have). And it is a continuous process (like He doesn’t have the right to behave inhuman way only because he has suffered a lot during the holocaust)

After reading I refreshed myself.

Self defense by psychological projection is bad and so is over self analysis.

Finding the balance (and Budha’s middle path is the ideal way but it is a tough state of continuous journey)

Yes the life is miserable –still there are many meaning to nothingness in life.