New Years Eve Ramblings

Its official. The third year of the new millennium peters out to its destined end. As I look back on they year, it seems to me that (as usual), it had its good and bad times, but the bad seem to outweigh the good. No, let me rephrase that. The global seem to outweigh the local. Lots of epoch-making events have taken place. A year not to be easily forgotten. Certainly not by me. After all, I was supposed to graduate. Screw all attendance rules. Also, I lost a girl.

But, that’s a miniscule event compared to what happened elsewhere. I lost a year and a friend, Iraq lost a leader and had a war thrust on them, fifty thousand Iranians lost their lives in an earthquake that flattened a historic city. Dara Singh lost his case, and was sentenced to death, the Congress lost three major states in the by-elections. The United Nations seems to have lost its power over the nations, and the US economy is crashing. Tons of students who wrote CAT had their exam cancelled.

What happened to the hopes we had around the same time last year? It was a good time to hope. The US had defeated the Taliban, Afghanistan was free. The War against terror was calming down. The only jarring note was Osama still hadn’t been apprehended. Twelve months later, we’re still waiting for his capture. And the castles we built? Well, the tide turned. The waters rose, and as Parikrama would say, all the sandcastles have drowned.

But, there are some things that turned out quite well. India suddenly finds itself with some global status. The markets are soaring, the economy is booming, and there is peace on the border with Pakistan. Sikkim has been recognized by China. And, I started blogging. More castles will be built. The tide will turn again. And life will go on. As it always has.

January 1 is a time to make new resolutions, and the rest of the year, most of us do our utmost to break them. It’s the same with nations, countries, communities the world over. Castles will be built, castles will drown, they will be rebuilt. There is a lesson here for those who care to see it. It symbolizes the eternal struggle of humanity to rebuild itself, to reform; and the even greater struggle to destroy itself.

All that is said and done. It matters very little. What does matter, however, is that tradition is too strong to destroy. It’s the New Year, and its time to party. So break out the champagne. Happy New Year, all. Keep those castles intact.

Memories of a long lost universe

Once upon a time, in a galaxy not so far away, there was a small, insignificant little blue-green planet that orbited an insignificant star. On a fairly insignificant day in January, a boy child was born to an insignificant middle class family in an insignificant third world country in a year in which nothing significant happened. That boy was me.

So, my childhood. Kiddie Days. Well, I remember no cable TV. All I ever got to watch was Oshin and Pingu the Penguin on Doordarshan. Also, Ramayana and Mahabharata. On weekends. So, I did a heck of a lot of reading. Started with Noddy, of course. My cousins watch it on Cartoon Network. That's a shame. Soon graduated past the Enid Blyton mysteries to my first Hardy Boys when I was eight. Definitely too young. Scared the wits out of me. Stuck to Enid Blytons for a few more years then. Eventually, I was sneaking out the Sidney Sheldon thrillers from my mom's room. Tried an MB. Atrocious. How do gals read that crap? Then, I read Vladimir Narbokov's Lolita. Doff your hat to that book. A masterpiece of writing. An absolute gem. Changed my whole outlook on the fairer sex. Girls were no longer venomous things to be looked upon only with suspicion. They were amazingly well-rounded, soft, curvy, luscious creations of God. Sugar and spice and all that's nice. I never really liked that rhyme actually. Too sexist. Anyway, that's when IIT happened.

And, well, my reading habits changed. It was time to discard the cheap thrillers for the dark, deep novels. Kafka. Rushdie. Ayn Rand. And a girl as well. That's water under the bridge now though. Girls are poison once more. But the dark novels remain. I'm a changed person now. The zest, the enthusiasm, the so-called killer instinct is gone. I cry a lot more. I also smile a lot more. But the novels remain. Whatever else has happened, thank heavens the gift of reading has remained. Whatever else will happen, I know I can always drown myself in some novel and be lost to this world. The insignificant blue-green one. Another world beckons. One that encompasses everything from Never-Never land to the mythical land of Narnia. From dragons to hippogriffs to Alice and her Wonderland. Thank God for books.

Amen.