Dreams and Reality - The confluence

I was talking to students when I asked one of them for their goals in life. With all innocence, he stood up and answered," I want to be a game designer." And then, they mocked him, the other students. Then he said,"A dream is always impossible until you achieve it." Whoa!!! We cheered and moved on. But can everything impossible be set as a dream? I want to go to the end of the universe. Yes, it is impossible. Yes, I will achieve it. Yes, it is my dream. Somehow, it does sound foolish. There's a very fine line between a foolish dream and an "ABLI" (Achievable but looks impossible) dream. The feasibility of dreams be ranked on a scale such that 0 to 1 is the grading. A feasibility of 1 would mean the fine line. And above 1, it would mean impossible.

At age 5, I want to be an astronaut, biker, teacher, musician, painter, actor or a president. The feasibility would never cross 1. At age 13, depending on whether you tried or not, all forms of art can generally be ruled out. By 18, the time you choose majors, the feasibility of all other subject-based-professions will be ruled out. Such feasibility is a personal measure and varies from person to person depending on several factors. Everyone of us has a utopia much different from what we are now. I want to see an education system that values learning to survive. A friend wants to see a world where people do not fake. Another wants a world free of all crime, another of all religion. To make that dream come true is tough. You should try it, practice it and preach it. YOU, yes YOU in capitals, should make it work because it is the world YOU want to see. On a collective scale. Whether we do or not, and whether we succeed or not is an entirely different issue. But, to understand that WE are solely responsible for the fulfilment of our dreams is important.

The confluence with reality fails when the feasibility factor crosses 1. It is equally important to convert all your dreams into feasible targets by adjusting them. Just because a pride of lions dreams of world as its territory won't make it feasible. It is at this juncture of dreams and reality that is the ideal case. With an effort efficiency of 90% work, our goals and work load should go up as much as 110% to smooth out the human errors.

It is easy to dream. It is not easy to dream something you can make happen. The solution would be to adapt your dream to reality. It is easy to work towards a dream. It is not easy to work towards a dream without disturbing the dreams of fellows around you, because it will be someone's dream to have a world where dreams would interfere too. That's a vicious circle. The solution would be to think rationally of the effects and work, rather than work and wait for side-effects. After all, not every dream is as easy as demonetisation to fight corruption.

Cheers,
Happy New Year.

Vattsy

A lone birthday

I've been an introvert for three quarters of my life, and the last 6 years were revolutionary in the way I started communicating with people. People are good to talk to, but unlike most others claim, I see that the best moments of life bless you alone. You can only share the happiness when we achieve something, but to know all the pain that you went through as you achieved it, none will know it the way you do, nor will they feel it the way you do. For such love of being alone, and communicating with the inner self, I have chosen the best set of holidays I got, the ones that sandwiched my birthday to ride solo into lands where no one knew me. 

It has been planned more than a month ago, and the waiting pressed me. The wait was because of several reasons. The bike was rotting in my hall since 4 months, the gear I brought for my second first salary needed to be tested, I was longing for rains like a drought-struck. 10th of October, I was to ride into a land called 'Diviseema', the fertile basins of Krishna, where my parents grew around. All through my childhood, the references to these places were innumerable.

Green farmlands and cloudy skies welcoming near the AP-TS borders

It all started on 9th, as I rode down to Vijayawada on the butter smooth NH-65. The drive was eventless until I crossed the borders that were not there when I visited these places 7 years ago. As I stopped to rest and click the picture below, it started drizzling from behind. I'd love to drench on the ride but the luggage my mom asked me to fetch was not so. As it started raining, I could see that a whole new species of insects woke up and swarmed the lands.  Many stuck all across me before I even stopped. I'd felt bad I was killing them but I soon recalled what Gita said "to do what you're made for"

A murder under the broad daylight

There were a crazy group of 8-9 riders riding Truimphs, Harleys and and Benellis. I rode along with them  till the border checkposts where we were all stopped by the police. I noticed that none of them were packed in any gear riding such big machines. I lost interest in making friends and told the police that I wasn't a part of that gang. One of them confirmed saying, "Leave him. His is not a racing bike." I hopped on and got moving. Somewhere deep inside, the teacher was still thriving to teach them what a performance bike and cruiser are.

I rested the whole day, for it was pouring down in Vijayawada. The next day started as every birthday would, with lots of messages and calls. Running ahead of calls and against the procrastinating me, I pulled out quick and was out on the happiness road by 9 in the morning. And happiness was for real. A dry riverbed on one side, I wondered what we were doing by saving waters in the dam when the fertile lands were running dry. I'd never been into irrigation villages before and my shallow knowledge of waters was later disproved. Coconut trees were guarding the paddy fields on the other side. The clean air was not picturesque but it felt so good.

Coconut trees guarding the paddy fields

The rivers of India have been assigned festivals called "Pushkaram". Each river's pushkaram repeats after 12 years and many theists come down to bathe in the river waters in the 12-day slot and pray to Gods. It was River Krishna's turn this year and the government had built many ghats (safe places to bathe in the flowing river). I descended down a couple of ghats to have a look at how the river feels, I would've felt bad if the riverbed felt any different, but here is a road eroded by the violence of the river. Here is a small concrete way laid across the river.

The dry riverbe

The roads went on and paddy fields lined around. Or maybe everywhere. The road was just a big streak of tar in what seemed to be an infinity of paddy fields. For atlas 6 successive hours, I was just riding amongst paddy fields everywhere, and the land is not even known for paddy. How long and slow does the nature produce food? How patient someone waits for that plant to reap? How careless in an urban area do we act while we throw such food out? Well, I asked these questions to myself 2 years ago over a random philosophical discussion and I have changed a lot that day.

Soon, I was at the destination I started for. The place where river Krishna meets the sea. There's  not much fuss around the place. I was on the southern bank and the poles beside belong to the last ghat on the river. The channel accounted for one-third of the river's drainage, but there were no waves on the river bank. The river was deep and slow and flowed calm. The saying "Santh waahate Krishnamayi" came to my mind. Silently flows River Krishna. Though I was unable to photograph, but the river was clearly differentiable by the eye. The lack of waves in the region where the river meets the sea can be seen in the central right of the picture.

Where the river meets the sea

The noon

We can't go to your Motherland baby

It was afternoon and I needed to start my journey back. On the way back, I found routes that were not highways. Mangroves grow where rivers meet the seas and here they are. The way nature adapts itself   is incredible. And here is the mother of all adaptions, plants growing in waters salty enough to cook your favourite gravies. The salt water canals were dug into the lands and local fisheries work on them. 

Fisher's canals, they call it the river

Never-ending mangroves

The narrow roads guarded by trees reminded me of the isle of TT, and I put all the good things I had to test, still being on the safer side for I was new to the equipment. I was so excited with the views, wind and the feel of the ride that I could not stop for more pictures of the best part of the journey. Oh, by the way, I was hungry too. 

Isle of TT feels

I was back on the other side of the river and here are the smallest 'Lanka' villages you'd find around. 'Lanka', meaning an island, are fishing villages commonly seen in the delta regions of South Indian rivers. Unlike most other islands that flood over the low-lying regions in floods and full flow, Krishna river has not drenched these lands in the past despite flowing 50 feet deep all around. Yes, right 50 feet deep.

A lanka village

I am not a person who would want to eat a specific dish for cravings. For all that MANIT had taught me, I am hungry craving for food or I am satisfied. But this, this was different. After 4 months of eating North Indian food, I was finally craving for the South Indian spice. I also wanted it to be as eventless and I bought these 'Mirchi Bajji' for 20 Rupees and it was a happy lunch. There was this enthusiastic dog at the little stall that licked my hand for nothing. I felt ecstatic that moment. The perfect birthday lunch.To add up, I gulped down half a litre of coconut water and pH was balanced. Yes, Coconut water is sold in litres down here costing around 60Rupees/litre. Come, have some coconut.

The birthday lunch

The ride continued forward on roads unknown to Tenali, and then back to Vijayawada. The roads were all well laid, new and maintained, despite not being state Highways, marking good state administration. I talked to farmers on a couple of breaks and they seemed to be happy with the rains this year.

The perfect tourday

Happy place

The next day was Dussehra, a festival celebrating the victory of good over bad and it has been a custom to clean and flower our vehicles. Vehicles back then meant the cattle we rode on, and they would have enjoyed an affable celebration. Now, this practice would be worthless, but I was not in a mood to talk out to my mom. The lands were very fertile, and the sheer number of juicy lemons tied should tell you the story. That lemons were dropping out useless in our backyard everyday, even if we weren't watering the plant.

Look at the lemons

Reminiscent

Some people are lost in the wood, in thoughts of what's bad and what's good, 

ever mindful of their dress and food, ignorant of the purpose for which they stood. 

I pity and lend them a hand, teach them things in a way they understand, 

help them savour their lives bland, to let them ride the life unplanned.

Some humans think as much as I do, and talk and listen like I honestly mean to, 

knowing them to have lived like me too, I reveal myself honest and true. 

We sail the life boat as long as we can, surviving like we belong to the same clan, 

dancing in the same heat on the reality pan, until life pulls us apart with a new plan.

Some I meet have an idea for the universe, to better it or delay its becoming worse, 

from them I learn and pen down my verse, and later into my thought reimburse. 

I churn the lesson and suck out the pulp, and down the bitter truth in a heavy gulp. 

I thank these teachers for curing my yelp, and move on to people whom I could help.

One inspires and learns from my ways, to make this world a deserving place, 

one lives beside me in our maze, trying to clear off the thoughts' haze, 

one teaches me to live in the moment now, and I follow abiding to the unsung vow, 

into my past and future I plough, harvesting lessons and watering them with love.

If not to learn and better at the present, of what good is it to be reminiscent? 

If only to lost times resent, why enjoy the full moon when you miss the crescent?

Meaning

O teacher O teacher! Can you just say,
why atom and earth move the same way?
O teacher O teacher! Tell me I pray,
Is it day after night or night after day?

O my kid O my kid! I've a truth to admit,
one I've learnt from my master named Wit.
O my kid O my kid! I pray you to sit,
listen as I help your dark world be lit.

Don't be caught don't be caught! In the trap of a thought,
don't search for answers that God had not wrought.
Ask me not ask me not! For answers you sought,
for knowing them is same as knowing them not.

Harken harken! To a poem I sing,
a tale of a fox and a bird with one wing.
Harken harken! A lesson I bring,
the echoes of which forever should ring.

Sing with me sing with me, the lesson as a song,
let it be in your mind for decades long.
Sing with me sing with me, the poem ding-dong,
for it might stop you from stepping one wrong.

Round and round, round and round, the nature does go.
Atoms and planets and THE THINGS YOU DON'T KNOW.
Day or night, black or white, does it matter?
They'll go in cycles till earth does shatter.

P.S. : The poem is written freestyle to a meter and tune. All punctuations are intentional to the tune afore mentioned.

Description : At times, we have been running to find the deeper meaning of life, diving into philosophical questions. But, it can be worthless to know answers to a few such questions. Instead, we can devote that time into learning a new lesson and living it, creating an experience. Poetry, for example is opposite to such philosophical brainstorming. While poetry tries to attach complex meanings to simpler things you see, (observing love in roses, life and death in night and day), philosophy tries to get simple answers for complex questions (yes or no to does God exist, does life have a meaning etc.)

For now, I think poetry is more meaningful than philosophy because it helps you live a better life, and savour such life.

Little Poems (4)

Emotionalibra

Some smile at pictures for being there doing that,
some regret that the moments lasted, with eyes shut,
some realize that every end is the beginning of a tale,
some long for endings to be happy with faces pale.

Every moment of life is a coin with two sides,
and in one's minds as a smile or a tear abides,
all memories are veiled by the chaos' valance,
such is a human mind's emotional balance.

Master (Teachers' day special)

I look at an eclipse and think of light,
what colour is black and what white.
I look at a hungry cheetah leap to a deer,
and worry which way would they steer.

To look at an event and grasp it as is,
to feel the ride and not care the grease,

Oh! How I miss seeing the simple blur,
Oh! How I hate being a philosopher!!!

You've always made my viewing range vaster,
thank you for slapping my glasses down, Master.