Life in general.

A thought passed on reminding me at the least we all are story
tellers. Every little thought we think of is a little story we build
to to constantly readjust ourselves. Just like a blink, referred from
Malcolm Gladwell's book blink.
As this Micro-storyteller builds our entire life as a cinema while we
live it. The only opportunity perhaps we get is the eternal last few
moments of time of our life when we see ourselves and the entire film
in one go but as a audience.
Having said we are storytellers dosn't that make everything around us
from religion to different gods just a cast of actors in our Brahman
mind of imagination.I happen to like myths and stories of magik.
Someday I want to retell the stories of people around me with some
magikal angle to it. Here's a picture of HanuMan, a story retold.

The Crow Says

The way the crows gather from all over the city into a single stream
of dark mass just before the sunset is a sight to be seen and
experienced in Vancouver city. While I have to dig deep inside myself
to face a group of people called the twelve tribes. http://www.twelvetribes.com/

Unshaven faces with their woman following them in faces untouched by
makeup, they almost remind me of my days in in Assam filled with
people teeming with life. They become quite attractive in contrast to
the world around them where everybody is trying to be different. Check
print shirts and dark pants with leather shoes and woman with long
hair and skirts. They all look the same, in fact like we do in India
where fashion is not a way of life but a way to blend into other
people. The simplicity and structured family makes them interesting
for me but not something out of common.

While they are really unique to environment here. They simplicity is
something which is unheard of here while their structure family system
without any conditions is huge affair by western standards. Nobody has
ever heard of a group having no individual bank account but a single
family account. And sell it well too, present themselves through their
publicity material in extreme odd places where they will find people
who are at crossroads or self doubt to recruit.

Desi Soap Opera or My Dream Life

Prof. Kuthiala proclaimed Human communication is 'sharing of
Experience'. Seven years later I recall my masters degree teaching in
the most unlikely place. Today I had to go and give the final edit of
the punjabi soap opera to the director, after pulling a all nighter I
realised I wouldn't be able to make it back to my desi Hippy
restaurant on the drive at 2pm. Total failure to recall the fact that
my shift now began two hours early made me over commit. So I had to
cancel the director's appointment and head straight for the restaurant
few hours before.
So here I am listening to the local punjabi radio waiting for my shift
while I set up laptop editing suite on one of the tables editing soap
opera while I sip my deadly chai. The place could be easily identified
as backpackers joint in some sleepy town in the himalayas. May be it
is the reason of the cult following this place has and more so why I
fit in as bridge between the shy punjabi lady who owns the place and
the memory stricken westerners trying to relive their backpack trip in
India.
Picture this, sitting on one of the tables, joking with the auntie in
punjabi as I edit an episode, right outside the windows is the trendy
commercial drive bustling with trendy Vancouver artist Diaspora in
hippest part of the city called Commercial drive. The inside is the
chaos of India which I am addicted and proud of while outside is the
mundane and predictable life of the first world.
All I can state to my Prof. you were right I am living it right now,
trying to document every passing moment and ending with bag full of
rich experience. Thank you my family each one of you are somewhere
responsible for initiating me in this uncommon path.

Uncommon Nation

In time we will discuss in public how today's life swings between odds
or Uncommon. Most of us would agree how we wish to be different and
connect to other wish to differ.
In today's post modern world of the Common where everything is getting
homoginised. A symptom of our present economic condition none the less
prevalent life style of humanity of 21st century. Hence the generation
of deviants who find undisputed pleasure at getting attracted to
another who has deviated.

Most commonly noticed among backpackers who travel for cheap within a
large group of people belonging to their travelling nation to a
boardroom meeting where two subtle prints of the tie fabric as
momentary exchange of glances of acceptance. There lies my imaginative
nation of Uncommon nation. A space within the face of encroachment of
public space in our society. More and more people realising that they
truly differ from others are becoming more receptive of each other.
Efforts of such amounts upto creating a space which inn time will a
nation within a nation.

Somewhere within this lies our inert nature to be huge mass of
diversity or just to be part of team and yet be ourselves. How much we
decide to differ and where do we draw the lines? When can we say
connecting as a differing with physical appearance and being racist
could be separated in morality? Why do the answer seemed to be lying
in the line in-between the line of Common and Uncommon? Is it just a
mere battle between similar experiences?

My Karma Areas

The inside of the restaurant 'Deserts' on Commercial Drive, I work
here for 30 hours a week under the table arrangement. Very in place
for cultural parasites. I like the artist 'Jordan' who did the menu
with chalk on the black board. His work can be seen all over Vancouver.

A scene from the set of the punjabi soap opera 'Teri Meri Duniya' I work for in the weekends for under the table rates, it is almost like shooting home video except it is broadcasted. You will notice the mayhem breaks down once we switch of the camera in the photo below.

Shobhu Bijoya Janalam

Guddu shared this for me. Very touched.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7G1T5F_r0HI

The Last Few Endless Days of Magik

I have started working in a eclectic restaurant on commercial drive and still hunting for houses in Vancouver. The owner of the place i work for met with an accident the day i joined the place and since then i have trained myself while the place runs itself. the owner is a Fijian lady who raised three of her kids till college after her Hindu husband abandoned her in Canada. A success story perhaps till i showed up in her life.

The the weekends I work for a local South Asian Soap Opera telecasted on cable network where drama is more offscreen then screen. The Director has been making soaps non stop since last few years on a very very low budget. I like the fact that a orthodox housewife without having to reject her family responsibilities makes soap based on her life and the life of others around. I agree it is cheap since you can shoot anywhere in her house with no extra props needed. The actors are all from the local community with other jobs, the crew is one DOP, one sound guy cum everything and her. Her work seems to be very popular and revolves around what a south Asian wife's life would revolve around.  

Lastly the guys who hang around the restaurant I work the server with me is young father who got tossed out of his wife's house, in the middle of getting a divorce. Lets call him Aditya. Aditya has two year old daughter, white causcian who has travelled in bihar and was a brilliant cadet before he turned into a yoga instructor with dreams. the second is Jerald much older guy who has been supported by the restaurant with food and shelter sometimes in tradition of dhaan followed by the hindu Fijian owner. He never fails to claim his food and question in the driest moments of conversation, however, why he isn't working there instead me for money? the answers is not clear.

For now working 7 days a week, I still owe a lot of money, urban society always makes you feel you are falling behind or compromising on your closet dreams so trying to wade through that. Living on couch of freinds parent for now as we search for a house and the so called happy American life.

Test Blog

straight for publication

Around the corner from my other side.

Still in the phase one of starting life anew around blue mountains of the western America. Vancouver reminds me of Mumbai in lot of ways yet less sophisticated at first glance. Though I still duel in self gratification in conflict of culture and region. I am gradually accepting myself no matter where I am.
On a lighter note I am almost becoming a cook in a electic restaurant run by a Fijian family. This photo was taken by my friend Sam Cooper around the Slocan Valley,British Columbia. Keeps reminding me how precious family is. So inspired by Sam and how internet is changing the world I decided to launch a blog to reach out my clan my family. Dadu's tradition of journaling also gets a revival.