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Of Terror and Twitter…#MumbaiBlasts #Here2Help

Of Terror and Twitter…#MumbaiBlasts  #Here2Help

July 13^th, 2011. Dallas, TX

Another hot day began with morning meetings and humdrum. There are some days when you feel you are sleepwalking through your schedule. One such day, today was disturbed by a newsflash on my phone – “CNN: Atleast 13 dead as blasts rock Mumbai”. It was a jolt.

You must be thinking I am overreacting or making it up for the sake of writing a blog. These things keep happening. Not true. Not true for today.

I felt a jolt. I felt pain and anger and helplessness. Called up few close friends and family members … felt relieved to know they were fine. But the pain did not go away. I could not walk away laughing on this matter this time.

I instantly logged on to twitter. For quite some time now, I feel I prefer reading news and reactions, sometimes news-in-making, analysis, thoughts, provocations and brickbats on this social networking medium. It is interesting to see how powerful these 140 characters are and the connections they create. I follow several news channels, their reporters, media people, the behind-the-scenes people and sometimes their friends and of course my friends.  It is an influential medium and you get to read first-hand sometimes politically ‘incorrect‘ views. For me it is a part of analyzing the society. It gives me the power to sit at the corner in a party with a drink and just observe people without being asked for a dance.

Not digressing any further, when I logged on to twitter today, it was full of information such as various hotline numbers for hospitals, blood donation camps, police stations, and individuals offering for help in anyway. Here are a few which I would remember forever –

“gsurya: Rare Bloodgroup A-ve, ready to go anywhere in Mumbai, call #### #Blood #Donor #MumbaiBlasts #Here2Help”

“@sidin : Taxi go off by midnight. Plan accordingly. #MumbaiBlasts #Here2Help”

“@JoyDas: People who need2b dropped plz mention area names ex Bandra to andheri Easier to coordinate #here2help”

“@gorakhargosh: You’d be lucky if you found my blood group AB-ve here.0.2% population.Please call if you need me #Here2Help”

“@Netra: if you cnt reach ur loved on call me on 022-22### I will read your msgs on air 107.1FM #mumbaiblasts”

“@localteaparty: plz RT google docs spreadsheet contacts of people willing to help #mumbaiblasts #here2help”

“RT @venkatananth:@davidleetandy needs help American family of 5 in need of car or taxi from S Mumbai to IC colony”

“@Sidin: YAY RT @RakeshTheKumar: @Sidin it has been taken care of. The American family is safe please read the timeline of @davidleetandy”

Tears roll down as I type this. These are the real humans. They did not need a ‘being human’ t-shirt and they were not doing it for popularity. They made sure they did not show their anger and lost their sensibility. The real heroes who were helping in such a great way, The real well-educated Indians using their education to make a change. It was this moment – the society was witnessing the power of social media and the change it brought in the society. I am proud that I live in the same time as these real people. I am proud that they are who they are. I am proud that they did not plan candlelit marches or shower twitter with abuses for the politicians at that moment. They helped. They were out there and they helped. They set an example and they made their lives meaningful. I feel even more small and even more insignificant now than ever. I bow down to people like @Joydas, @Sidin @localteaparty @Netra @GSurya, @PapaCJ and so many of you who were really out there today.

The so-called ‘spirit’ of Mumbai – was out there. It hurts me to talk about this spirit though. It is an insult to Mumbaikars. So what is the deal huh? They have this spirit so you test and crush it? How dare any Manmohan Singh, any Chidambaram, any Sushma Swaraj, any Sonia Gandhi, any Rahul Gandhi appeal people to keep a ‘united face’. How dare they speak? Isn’t it enough that they have collectively got us here -where our innocent civilians are losing their lives every single day?

Terror and the people who play the game of terror are cowards. No youth icon is going to change it. Icons are the people who were here on Twitter today and who I have been reading for a while now, who have the potential to bring in that change. I urge all of you to root for a cleanup in politics. To start afresh and to start rooting for real people who have suggestions and ideas to build the real India.

Thanks Twitter… Thanks Tweeple …. Thanks you real Mumbaikars and Real Indians who set a real example today…. Thanks for everything.

For all those of you who have been affected, if this can be any help –

@JoyDas Joy

Updated List of Area wise people offering help http://t.co/UfSqHzN . Accomodation / Drop / Hospital Numbers included

@PapaCJ Papa CJ

Hospitals: KEM (022-24136051), Nair (022-23085379), Harkishandas (23855555 / 30095555), Saifee (22 6757 0111)

PapaCJ Papa CJ

Police Control Room #Mumbai 22621855 22621983, 22625020, 22641449, 22620111 etx 100

Freakonomics radio - the health of nations

Came across this discussion today... Found it really interesting. One important highlight was their analysis of differences in the governance of indian states. An example of GDP driven states being Gujrat and AP and how they are not as progressive as it is expected of this model. On the contrary there is Kerala wherethe focus is on literacy and healthcare and the state has successfully achieved this. Another highlight is Kerala is as poor as harlem in NY, USA ....

It has no name...

When we start looking for stories, we are drifting from what is real. When the art looks for the audience and tries to become what people want it to, then it is no more an art. It is a commodity. Art and society are complimentary to each other and they can’t survive without each other.

But any creative thought should not be restricted with the thought, “will this be accepted?”

I have been looking around and thinking of writing my experiences but all the time, I am worried about the conclusion. When I am writing my diary, I freely flow, I drift, I catch hold of a thought, and I pen it down, without worrying what the preceding thought was or what the subsequent thought would be. I can write on and on, because it is not meant to be read. I am not worried about people’s reactions or acceptance and otherwise. It is an outflow of emotions; it is natural and not definitive. But when I blog, I am worried as to “how will I find an end?”, “what will be the ending?”, “how do I conclude” and that kills the spirit of writing. I read and admire what great people have written and then think about how they would have achieved this. At times, I am just numb, reading them. And this amazes me no ends.

I remember watching a movie called 'Alaap'. The movie is about the struggle of a musician, who happens to be the son of an aristocrat. Their principles and outlooks clash and he struggles and finds his way. The musician’s name is Alok. Although, Alok is a great musician, he is looking for a teacher. Art has no upper limit and it is always growing. Alok comes to know of an old lady, who lives in a slum. At one time, she used to be a courtesan and was a legendary singer. When Alok visits her and expresses his wish to learn music from her, she makes him sing, to test his mettle and evaluate if he is really worth it. He sings and she likes what he sang. Technically, he knows the nuances of music and is a good singer. But then what she says next, touched my heart and I would remember it for life. She says to her care-taker, “Ladke ki awaaz achchee hai, magar abhi dard nahi hai. Zindagi mein jab tak dard nahi hai, suron ki samajh adhoori hai”. The care-taker responds, “jab tak inhe apna dard na mile, aap apna gham baant leejiye”. And then the story flashes back in her life. I would not do justice in attempting to translate this to English, but I will attempt. I would not do a literal translation. It meant, “The quality of boy’s voice is nice but it lacks depth and meaning of life. Till the time, you have not experienced life in its crudest form, your knowledge of music (read art), is incomplete”. And the response was “So until, he experiences his own life and his soul is touched, you share your journey so far with him”

This made me think, can art really be standalone? Can art and life be two different entities? My answer is no. And then, I got thinking, that any art form, that has touched the hearts of people, has been felt and created. Ghalib’s sufferings made people feel him and live him each day. If today, anyone can identify with what he wrote and fell, that the words are a voice to our emotional state today, it is because, AsadUllah Khan Ghalib, was not writing to be accepted and be popular. Bahadur Shah Zafar, underwent his trials and each verse he wrote, was his expression of self. Generations later, we still know what it is, ‘Na kisi ki aankh ka noor hu, na kisi ke dil ka qarar hu, ju kisi ke kaam na aa sake main who ek musht-e-gubar hu’.

Life is a many splendored thing. It is much beyond the capacity and potential of words. The vocabulary will have a limit, but not life and its experiences; hence the free arts.

Dussera 2010 - Pt. Ravishankar Concert

Sunday, October 17, 2010 at 11:41pm
This is just a humble attempt ... an attempt to describe the experience I had tonight. And I consider it a real blessing that I got to attend Pt. Ravi Shankar's concert a second time in my life. 

Some moments just remain with you forever. They freeze in your heart. I would remember this evening as is. You know it is such a moment that Wordsworth described in his poem "To Daffodils" --

"For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils." 

Pandit jee is now 90 yrs old. He started playing Sitar since the age of 10. His personality reflects humility and simplicity; And that is incredible considering his immense contribution to the world music. He addressed the audience before his performance and shared a hearty news about his daughter. When he was mentioning that news, he was just a proud father and not this master musician; when he played with his daughter and the tabla guru - Tonmoy Bose, he smiled like a contented teacher; And when audience gave him a standing ovation, he was a down-to-earth, modest artist.

The concert began with a carnatic music performance with a brilliant jugalbandi between tabla and flute. Then we heard the evening raag - Raag bageshawari accompanied by jhaptaal on tabla. It stirred so many emotions. It was music in its purest form. All through the day I had this terrible headache and it was unbelievable how without any medicine or coffee, my headache went off just by indulging in some blissful music.

The second part of the performance was the brilliant raag manj khamaj which blends several taals in it. If you hear this raag you would feel you have heard parts of it in so many songs and background scores in movies. You could just close your eyes and let it all go.

Nothing could have been a better celebration of Dussera. I loved being there. I loved each moment of it. It was really truly a divine experience.

I wish it was longer.And to sum it all up, I just would quote Shakespeare's Twelfth Night act 1 scene 1 -

"If music be the food of love... Play on!"

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