The Raghavan Instincts

I sit on my cot, leaning on a wall, fiddling with my phone. I'm at awe with Android, which makes me think of an operating system, and in turn Linux; Windows; I stare at the window next to me, and I see that it's raining outside; water water everywhere not a drop to drink; poetry; how I'm so terrible at it; what else am I terrible at?; literature, music, dance; arts for that matter; who knows it all?; Kamal Hassan?; what phone does he use?; a Moto in vEttaiyAdu viLaiyAdu; Goutham Menon; viNNaiththANdi varuvAyA; love; singledom; #ForeverAlone; marriage; kids; house; car; social pressure; job; money; economy; politics; corruption; desire; misery; humanity; evolution; science; technology; engineering; electronics; communication; telephones; mobiles; Nokia 1100; Lumia; oh, how I wish Nokia had made an Android phone; Android; I'm still looking at my phone. A circle of thoughts gets completed as another begins, and I try to shut it down, only to fail miserably. I've bee...

Every morning, I walk to work crossing on my way an empty dustbin with much garbage strewn around it than inside it that makes it the habitat for plenty of flies & mosquitoes and emanates a foul smell that triggers most of the sensitive passers-by to promptly close their noses. And the problem is thus solved with nothing more than a pair of fingers. India is a single huge country; rather, a lot of smaller countries put together; cultures, I'd say. Each culture has its own way of life and thought processes, so it's hard to unite them all so easily. But one thing that seamlessly unites them is cleanliness, or the lack of it. It would be arrogant & foolish to claim that all the cultures fail to maintain some standard at being clean, but not to say that the people do. After all, it's the people who define the other. I haven't traveled much of India, but with whatever I have, I'd say that one can't rate the sanitary level across the country to be uniform. ...

At the end of a roasted day In the warmth of a lonely night I look at my window expecting a breeze And gaze through it at a lonely star. A star that arrives there every night & Yet remains dead for a million years Why am I destined to stare at it? Just to realize I'll die too? The world's so strange, for all I know. And my experiences, so very few. There's a design, I'm so damn sure. And it's all but just impure. The star looks surprised for I'm here just tonight. And I already begin to miss The dead one I met last night. Do all dead become stars? Would I get to be one too? For I can twinkle forever And laugh at some mere mortals.

Life is to live To live is to Suffer To suffer is to fear To fear is to cry To cry is to weep To weep is to exhaust To exhaust is to halt To halt is to think To think is to act To act is to work To work is to lead To lead is to inspire To inspire is to live To live is Life.

I'm surprised that many of us seem to be living with a sense of disillusionment, despite being in full knowledge of it. Or maybe I'm the only one. In this world where every damn thing done is an effort to win the rat-race, those who refuse to take part in it are by default termed losers, and this is said to be the unwritten norm these days. We live in an age of avarice, and one who is free of desire is perceived to be unfit. The urge to gain wealth, be it material of intellectual or anything for that matter, should come from within, and not from the universe, especially from the immediate kin. Beyond a certain age, one should be free to pursue whatever one wants, but that doesn't easily happen in our country, for 2 reasons: social pressure & moral obligations. One needn't care about the first, but definitely has to, and is forced to, about the second. We’re asked to live all our life for somebody else, just as a corpse following orders not directly stated but brill...

'தங்க மீன்கள்' படத்தின் 'ஆனந்த யாழை' பாட்டுடனே நான் கடந்த சில நாட்களாக வாழ்ந்துவருகிறேன். இது எவ்வளவு பிடித்துப்போனதென்றால், 'குரங்கு கையில் பூமாலை' என்பார்போல் என்னால் இதைக் கொல்லாமல் இருக்க, முயற்சித்தும் முடியவில்லை. 'கழுத கெட்டா குட்டிச்சுவரு'-ன்ற மாதிரி, ஒரு காதலன் தன் காதலியைப் பாடுவார்ப்போல் எழுத முயற்சித்துள்ளேன். முதலில் அசல். Disclaimer : The author does not take any responsibility in any way for any of the physical / mental imbalance caused by listening to this. ஆயிரம் ஆசைகள் மூட்டுகிறாய் அன்பின் ஆயுதத்தால் என்னை வாட்டுகிறாய் கண்களில் கள்ளத்தனம் காட்டுகிறாய் என் உள்ளத்தினுள் உயிர் ஊட்டுகிறாய் இரு நெஞ்சம் பிணைந்து வாழ்ந்திடும் வாழ்க்கைக்கு ஈடு இணை இங்கு ஏதுமில்லை. இந்த முள்ளில் உறங்கும் அகத்தின் அழகை நீயன்றி யாரும் காணவில்லை. அந்த விண்ணில் பறந்து வாழுகிறேன் என்னை நாடுகிறேன் உன்னைப் பார்த்தபடி என் நெஞ்சம் எடுத்து ஓடிவிட்டாய் அன்பில் மூடிவிட்டாய் கண்கள் தேடுதடி ஆயிரம் ஆசைகள் மூட்டுகிறாய் அன்பின் ஆயுதத்தால் என்னை வாட்...

There was a nerdy guy fiddling with his mobile at the waiting room in Jalgaon Railway Station & I approached him asking him about his time of departure, for he could wake me up for mine. He said that he had a train by around 1 AM, and I had asked him to wake me up by then. I had plugged my phone & camera for charging, which stopped working later, and all I had was my bag which I used as a pillow and went for sleep trusting that stranger. Okay. This plug point not working n battery going down. Mein sO jaa rahaa hoon. — Rules Raghavan (@vrraghy) December 16, 2012 But he kept his word. He woke me up by 1, and I was awake since then, and with extreme drowsiness bugged the station master in my broken Hindi about my train Mumbai-Ferozpur-Punjab Mail. It was already 02:30, and looking at me shuttling between the waiting room & the station master, a mid-aged woman, [by Tamilian instincts, an "aunty"] pacified me and pointed me to the right train. I was quite sc...

The jeep to Aurangabad was for Rs. 30 and on my way, I glanced at the Daulatabad fort and cursed myself once again for not getting down and in there. The jeep-driver was clearly a thick vermilion on his forehead, a man wearing a cross was seated right next to me with his kid, and a lady with a purdah got in at what seemed like a Muslim locality, and I was engrossed in The Krishna Key . I got down at Aurangabad bus stand, had lunch at a Maarwaadi restaurant for around an hour charging my cam & phone, then got an auto to Bibi-ka-Maqbara which I was told, was a place to notable importance. I had no idea. The auto dropped me there in less than 15 minutes. Bibi-ka-Maqbara Built by the Mughal emperor Aurangazeb in memory of his first wife, this seems to mimic the Taj Mahal in its structure. But there, I was told by someone that this was in memory of his mother. I still am not clear on which is right. Since the wikipedia page on this has in it sentences supporting the ...