Tuesday, May 02, 2017

Here Comes Another One

Happy World Asthma Day. We are all choking on the world. The only new highs our cities claim is pollution levels. Asthma Day reminds us of air pollution. There is nothing, however, to remind us of the noise pollution - no World Tinnitus Day or World Readjusted Hearing Day (our hearing is highly adaptive, unlike our breathing). It gets much worse than we take cognizance of or acknowledge. We have turned our planet into something ugly.

Last night I dreamt of finding myself a job. Being a computer guy, it was natural that I ended up joining a dance troupe. Seems like the TVCs got to/in me; or the ex- effect. Who else but AR Rahman, the composer extraordinaire, to approach for auditions. It only took a few seconds of crappy dance moves - bunny hopping, but with flair - to clinch me the job. I was paid a coupla thousand bucks on my first day, which seems satisfactory, only if it were for real.

The morning started with some understanding on Hyperlapse. It is a cool thing, now that I come to understand it better. A moving camera capturing a shaky image is best when converted to Hyperlapses. I got so many jungle walkthroughs to apply the treatment to. 

Sunday, April 30, 2017

To the wise ones


All the wise ones
Who could see through the ruse
Who resisted the advance
On the high greens of a muse
Who didn't need a meaning
But decorum that lets them thrive
Who didn't need a drug
But a will to survive
Who found their calling
In the lines of the palm
Who escaped the grip
Of a fish called calm

Saturday, February 11, 2017

A Mad Boy's Love


If you think i'm not thinking about you
Then think again
Of a night under the full moon
Of a warn embrace
Of a dominating silence
Of a tender caress
Your mad boy's mad love
That you never imagined could feel so amazing
ca. 2013
under the duress of love

What it Feels in Love

You are my convergence function
My differential is deferential to you
You reduce me to infinity
You are my Fourier transform inverse
My n-tuple wants to forever be next to your n-tuple
You are my integration operator

ca. 2013/14
must've been in love, madly so, which is expressed here

Can't Wait for Tomorrow

Ends come slow
Methods that lend a blow
Pieces I find on the floor
Of what was a dense mass
in the head
Plans that blur the line
Projecting an image divine
The fruit of carefree dreaming
The deep inquiries into meaning
Tonight I write an elegy
Instead of writing idylls
And the mind will have a free reign, again,
With the breaking dawn

ca. 2013/14
was probably stoned during this scribble

Outta tune

I'll be a little bit
Shifty awkward wet toxic
I'll play a bit
outta tune

Undated, ca 2014

Another draw - my first nude

Continuing on the trail of sketching, here's another I copied through the day. A nude!
I believe his roots could be some gay comics, but was in my recent instagram feed, which I remembered for inspiration. He was posed well, with a lot of subtle variations in light that had me understanding the pencils better. I couldn't get the face right and urge he ended up looking more like me (just the face, not the physique).
Inspired by such a defined body, I did log lifts in the breaks taken during doing the sketch.
Long road ahead, don't you think?


Love begets a love begets a love

Last night, I started with what had been on my mind since a long while - to utilize my sketch pad, that lad been lying discarded since transfer to a new owner i.e. me, back in November of the prev year. I had only done some squiggles and doodles on a sheet for practise, in all this while.


What better to choose than a Tinder muse, who reminded me of divinity through a mere few photos and a succinct bio. Since we had a match, which means she reciprocated the way I expected/prayed, it makes her even more apt choice for a subject. Strong feelings already in place, I guess, which could be an outlier, since I identify myself in Jim Carey's character in The Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, who muses in frustration "why do I fall in love with every woman I see who shows me the least bit of attention?".

The sketch turned out okay. It's my best ever, and at least better than Napoleon Dynamite's conception of Trisha - I didn't even sit for 3 hours to finish shading on the upper lip. Early hours of a long sleepless night of a long sleepless day well spent.



Stumbled into an old creative moment, ca 2005


Monday, February 06, 2017

Field Recording Itch

Of late, I've directed thoughts often towards birds. That continuity led to today's thoughts - much exclusively towards assembling a field recording kit, so that the birdsongs aren't a mere fleeting memory. And yet again, I have concluded that choosing a reliable/stable/effective kit is a bit complicated. Earlier, I have browsed over hours, to come to similar conclusions.
Each time I get a bit wiser, but many questions still remain open-ended - Do I go for a shotgun or a parabolic mic? Would DIY-ism get me better field recordings? Is a separate recorder necessary? Is a deadcat must? Where in Delhi do audiophiles go (having been to Daryaganj, I've been disappointed)? Where can the field recordists/soundscapers be found in my part of the world? Would starting with soundscapes (hence a XY setup) be better as it is the ulterior intent?

Another annoying part is seeing the immediately-available-in-vicinity prices being much higher than what the same things sell for on Amazon (US). To be limited to a few options, which are priced so as to leave no scope to experimentation, is conflicting. What is the beef the audio manufacturers have with our government, to deserve such jacked up prices? This takes me back to last decade when anything electronic would blindly be a much better deal if a friend/relative was returning from the US or Emirates.

As of the moment of logging this, some bird's very unique calls intrude the airspace. Only if I'd have something to hook into it... gah!

Saturday, February 04, 2017

Oil spills, wetlands, and Flamingos

It happened a few days back (Jan 28), but only today does the news of a massive oil spill on the Indian coasts trickle down to my eyes through conventional news channels. A cleanup effort ensued, which has taken care of the most of it. It is good to see volunteers in action - would've liked be one meself.
So it happened off the Kamarajhar Port (Ennore coast), off the coast of Chennai, in Tamil Nadu the southernmost Indian state (title shared with Kerala state).
A massive clean-up operation was launched in Tiruvallur, Chennai and Kancheepuram Districts by engaging more than 2000 persons at various sites including Ernavur, Chennai Fishing Harbour, Marine Beach, Besant Nagar, Kottivakkam, Palavakkam, Neelankarai and Injambakkam beaches.  
Merchant shipping fail, this. The spillage exceeds 200 tonnes, and has been under-reported to be around 20 tonnes.The general mode of our business is evasive/thrifty/lying. Being honest is the least they could do in this case. A proportional (legally instituted) fine is the most nominal punishment, for we do not realize to what extent of damage such events have on the nature. There is no way or no amount of money that can thwart the ecological cascade that might ensue.

Just a day back, we celebrated the World Wetlands Day 2017 , which wasn't really celebrated anywhere but had a few articles written about it. No representation among the masses for valuable, massive ecological zones providing our communities with sustenance - by the way of fresh water, food, flood control - for generations  - called Ramsar sites - under threat because of (who but) us.

For those who don’t know what a wetland is, it is a land area that is saturated with water, either permanently or seasonally, such that it takes on the characteristics of a distinct ecosystem.
They are also very important for animals and plants to survive. Actually, they are one of the most vital and productive ecosystems on the planet. Unfortunately, this valuable asset of the planet are slowly getting lost at an alarming rate in many regions of the Earth. According to a report, at least 64 per cent of wetlands have diminished since 1990.
In the month of November, I found myself very lucky to be in Begusarai for some survey work. Lucky, because Begusarai district was home to the Kanwar Bird Lake Sanctuary, housing Asia's largest oxbow lake - 3 times that of Bharatpur, where I had already been to and returned impressed at its immensity. Super eager, I asked around for directions, to come to know that it was only a small lake, and nothing much was to be enjoyed there. Being a skeptic about other's perceptions (esp when it comes to natural wealth), I looked it up online, to find that the place really was now an unimpressive waterhole, far from what it once was.

As a 2008 study by Pollution Research states
In the present study the pollution of a major North Bihar lake, the Kawar Wetland was studied with special reference to their effects on flora, fauna and local human population. The water of the lake is turbid, acidic and is having higher conductivity. The dissolved oxygen level was estimated as 7.6 mg/L, free CO2 6.3 mg/L, bicarbonate 80 mg/L, hardness 90 mg/L, chloride 17.0 mg/L.
A coupla years back, in the February of 2015, I had suffered a similar setback on a morning, when after adventurously breaking a journey (a roadtrip in a Tata Sumo with a friend) next to a huge lake, imagining creatures and phenomenon unseen, we woke up to find that the massive lake was now an empty trough, all its water drained for construction projects (esp a massive college complex in vicinity) - I best enjoyed that morning exploring a graveyard next to the lake that separated it from a village, a symbolic image to take back in my state of shock and mourning. This was near Hyderabad, in the state of Andhra Pradesh.

Population pressures on the Indian ecosystem are colossal. Things are already depressing, and we make no efforts to change. Bangalore and Chennai are prime examples of destruction of wetlands, to the extent that they (the related wetland ecosystems) have disappeared. Corruption - by the way of bribes and complacency - is rampant everywhere. In this state of affairs, the nature is no way on the track of winning.

This is the range of flamingos across our planet. See that strip on the left - that's the Indian subcontinent. The bird is supposed to exist everywhere along our western coastline in the migratory season. Yet, now it is only left with a few spots to camp at, namely in the state of Gujarat (like the RoK). This morning, I was surprised to find Mumbai on the map as well through a cousin, learning the existence of Sewri Flamingo Point, which I would've been to had I known during my stay there. Now I wait for an opportunity.

Saturday, January 28, 2017

Musical ear rekindled

Two artists have lately seen a resurgence in my playlists - Keane and Bjork. I had liked them earlier, during my college days. Revisiting them led in liking turning into love. Chiefly, it were the lyrics that got me this time. That which one hadn't noticed before rises up to the perceptional surface on a future revisit, and that is the hallmark of good songs. Keane's "Somewhere Only We Know", and Bjork's "Bachelorette", were the respective tracks which pulled me back to listening to these artists.

On the Keane trail, I learnt that the band had since split, and their lead singer Tom Chaplin had undergone serious phase of depression, but also come back in the scene with a new Album, whose tracks "Quicksand" and "Hardened Heart" brought some terrific new music and lyrics to my ears - especially Quicksand, which I've played on repeat on a couple of outings since. "Somewhere Only We Know" has some of the most sensory lyrics I muchly empathize with.

On the Bjork trail, "All is full of love" was found to be even more emotive than the first time - when I'd mainly fallen for it because of Michel Gondry's music video. The lyrics are very potent, which I only now came to focus on and find (and agree with) - her life experiences put in words make me totally empathize, and I have started internalising Bjork but at the same time dreading falling for a girl like her who will be so complex and all-consuming. "Hyperballad" is another track with lyrics so chilling that they'll stick in the head, and be revisited. She talks of keeping her sanity by throwing objects off cliffs and watching them tumble down to oblivion and wondering about her own fall - a dangerous frame of mind, also so attractive.

Looking for Michel Gondry's newer work (which there's none, sadly), I stumbled into an all-girl band (the connect being one of his ex-gfs who is a bandmember), Warpaint, that makes good music. A nice name, that, too. It reminded of the time I found the Bombay Bicycle Club, another small band, which also got airplay on Indian TV much later.

Fighting with and begging for time

Erratica has marked the past coupla months, during which the blog has seen none of my swill. There are an infinite things to talk about, but agency has it that they haven't been talked about. I have been depressed considering the torment of time, its unceasing march forward making me feel backward. It would take a lifetime to recollect a single day or a night, such is the plight of the descriptives. We humans usually tend to die much sooner than we'd want to.

Looking around for answers, as other humans have figured it, I found they haven't. "Buck up" and "Prioritise" are the two most profound responses, which is akin to saying, "Suicide is your best option, son/bro/jerk". Repression and compromises promise to be the two best friends, but I'd rather keep to myself. With age, I've learnt to be more stubborn. Not that I'm right or leading a right life, but the me that will live in thin slices of me that is presently alive doesn't sound very appealing. Sure, I could be "wrong", but I'd pretend not to understand or care about such binaries, and diffidently confuse anybody who tries to argue about the same.
Persecution complex creeps into thought often.

Complaining about time, the week that went by rubbing it in even more. I was found begging for my own time. Sociality hit, leisure activities took hold, and the organism often got tired by the end of the day, to not have any time for its master, its mind. There were things lined up that didn't happen, even when I did find time to meself, for lazy recovery got priority, a time much occupied by thought than initiative/agency. All agency is spent in mundane things through the day. What's left for me is mere reflection, which too is an addictive habit that is now programmed in my brain processes, and I can't do without.

Tuesday, November 29, 2016

A Worrisome Morn


This organism was awake much before dawn. It was chilly when that happened, which pushed him back into sleep, which ended after a lengthy battle with the morning alarm. It was still chilly when the reawakening happened. Since there was no time to be wasted, the organism "rose" to the challenge to find some time to waste. Then when the wasted time had been impressively wasted, some agency dragged the organism out, with the daybreak about to commence.

The initial understanding was to do a graveyard run. My organism was directed there upon stepping out, making it all the way to join the roadhead. However, seeing that it was already past 6, a return no sooner than 8 was forecasted, and thus the idea was switched for a shorter one - the JMB loop, which forecasted an earlier return. Why the return time was important was, because baby bro needed assist during his exit to office, and that exit also meant somebody had to be around, with me being the only other occupant of the house presently - hope it's understandable.

In a coupla minutes, I was at the Parao. Then came the odd news through HD (who mans a teashop in the early hours of the day ), that Lalu Prasad was missing. LP, in this context, is my favorite village mutt, who I tend to write about and interact with - maximally, of all canines - in the days out here. As per HD, he hadn't shown up since the day before. "Lagta hai bagh le gaya usko," ("seems that he's fallen prey to a leopard") HD had figured. It induced serious guilt, as t'was with me that he had hiked up through the forests the day before, an equation between man and canine that was cut short halfway when a pack of dogs came in from the other side, to scare the mutt away (as noted here ). Couldn't believe that he hadn't returned since. Wishing HD a nice day, I proceeded onwards with a perturbed mind.

Then the run happened - things that feel horrible when at it, but amazing afterwards. I still clock ~15 minutes for the ~3km stretch from Parao to JMB. As noted a minute into the run, it took me another 14mins to get there, which included a coupla breaks for photos and connecting my earphones. That I'd made it to the summit before the sun could show up was credible enough for my day, which had started in a lackluster manner. The mountain edges were layered with distinct colors of the spectrum. Then came out the sun, a small orange-pink blob for a brief moment feigning the appearance of the upper lip, which had me wishing I had a coupla lips to bite at that moment which felt so grand and romantic.

Then the walk back - with a rock in hands, to work out some upper. These coupla times that I've tried it, I have felt stupid for not doing it earlier. Any natural weight is a versatile thing. There are many motions and lifts to be done, and several muscle sets (esp smaller muscles) to be worked in isolation. As a wannabe-climber, I was impressed by how a lump of nothing gave so many holds to practice by the way of arrangement of fingers around it, making it worth something. It was planned to carry the rock all the way home, and paint a smiley face on it, and keep it forever, but alas, a fall on the floor, and it came apart in wafers (typical of the lithos this side).

Through the run, I had a new song on repeat - Miike Snow's "Genghis Khan", which talks of a strange (noncommitted?) equation between two people, still possessive of each other after they chose to keep distances.
I get a little bit Genghis Khan
I don't want you to get it on
With nobody else but me
These lines make for a catchy chorus.
And this video tops it too..

Sunday, November 27, 2016

Summing Up Today

Today was an inverted one.. lived by the morning, and death practise (ie sleep) much through the day. First ensued an insomniac's night, swinging in and out of scattered thoughts; then a hasty 30km drive to fetch bro in the pre-dawn hours; then nearly 3-hours in the outdoors for a workout, priming my organism to privations of the future; then watering the lawn, fourth day of trying to figure out how to grow a nice one; then a breakfast; and since then.. restlessness which gave way to sleepiness which turned to sleep which recently concluded. As the organism stirred into agency, Bro called with something stupendous to tell - that he had just sighted a leopard on his way back from the office. Thoughts then meandered into the wild (indoors cannot take the outdoors out of context). Now they get a break, to focus inwards, and be upto this.

Most to detail on is the morning workout - the route ended being longer than I'd conceived while leaving out, and so the experiences numbered more, as did the thoughts that came while experiencing (also dissociating). I'd walked out for just a hike up to AluK, as it was already past 7AM (the time by which I should be on the way back, since the sun is no fun so long after a sunrise).

It was probably the village mutts that joined me up that induced the feeling to go further - it felt like taking kids out, showing them around, pointing out alarm, the synchronised cycle of going ahead and falling back which kept them vacillating between the feeling of cautious discovery and comfortable self-absorption. They were considerate enough to reciprocate, coming along without questioning - only when a pack of noisy dogs came running their way shortly before the 'Toota Pahar' shortly before Nainital, did they beat a retreat. My fave mutt, B, is such a curious soul, that having him walking ahead is always exciting, his body language - alarmed and anticipative - hinting to have sensed an interloper ahead that is still not seen by a regular human being.

Friday, November 25, 2016

Persistent British Animator Dude

Started this morning catching up with the animation scene - a wide overlook mainly to tell what next to watch. In the drift, I found an old note, bearing a film title "Prologue". On my (most recent) birthday, I had watched the 2015 Oscar-nominated animation shorts, and the intriguing ones were noted for recollection. Though I didn't remember a specific short by name, it remained stuck in the head because of its brilliant animation style, the visuals being a treat + inspiration juice (having chosen nature drawing as a subject of pursuit only a coupla weeks back).  With great hope, I keyed in the name, and bull's eye! - found that short.

The Prologue (2015) - a "brutal battle between Spartan and Athenian warriors" - is a one-man-project, that man being Richard Williams. The short is actually a sequence from an unfinished longer project (adaptation of the play Lysistrata by Aristophanes). The animator Richard Williams is a veteran in the industry, and also one in unfinished projects - his most endearing project has been an adaptation of Mulla Nasreddin's folk fables, originally titled Nasrudin, which was then shelved and re-titled "The Thief and the Cobbler", which has seen the hands (and voice-overs) of many other industry veterans, which was eventually seized from Mr. Williams and forcefully released by the production house... the duration of this interesting project spans 31 years, and also has a coupla documentaries done on it.

His wiki page shows few other unfinished shorts, 8 or 9 among 17. With half things being scrapped, he mustn't have been treated well by his production house(s). But whatever he did put out, has been very creative and even path-breaking at times.

Here's somebody with their 2¢ on the animator
Richard Williams (the director/solo animator) is one of the greatest animators of this or any time, and he's a very astute observer of human motion. I've seen a fair amount of his animation, including other shorts done in this style, and while he's sometimes looked at live models for inspiration (not to my knowledge for this short, but for another he did for dancers), he's never done rotoscoping. A few years ago, at an Oscar event I attended, he showed a tiny clip of Prologue when it was still a work-in-progress, and he described that he was doing the animation based on his personal style and very meticulously over the span of several years. That kind of animation is possible for a great animator who is willing to take the amount of time Richard Williams takes, but because there are very few people at his skill level, and even fewer able to work on his timeframe, you very rarely see anything on this level. 
Persistence of Vision is a documentary on the unfinished Thief project.
The director Kevin Schreck has uploaded several related clips on his YT Channel.
There's also the Thief Archive, a related YT channel, promising hours of interesting consumption.



The Little Island - a gem of a find



Love Me Love Me Love Me - another beaut

Friday, November 11, 2016

Looking Back to a day




Armchair into PoK

Been armchair-traveling into the India that once was, now occupied by the new mulq of Pakistan. Read an article on the revival of the Wakhi music tradition in Gojal/Deosai, which revived the interest of mine in visiting it and spending time with its people someday. There is so much to do - geological features alone will induce a hard-on, and coming across good-natured feisty folks is a bonus.




About two-thirds of the song's lyrics and their own accent were decipherable.

The song turned out to be a recent one, by a young indie Chitral-based artist, Irfan Ali Taj. Here's that


Continuing on that trail, I reached to as far as Chitral, where curiosity is now hooked on the Kalash People - speaking the same tongue of native land (a mix of punjabi urdu and hindi) that (again, striking to me) is immediately comprehensible (no subtitles or translators that induce xenophobia). Theirs is a beautiful agnostic community (which doesn't endorse the major religions despite being coerced to convert for centuries), which is thinning if not preserved, and which also doesn't look for over-endorsement. I'd surely over-endorse them for their colorful culture and art that needs wider appreciation. The 'khawateen' have excelled in sustaining their culture by taking supremely creative roles, as is evident in their clothing, and their striving to live in good standards.



The belt of language that ties this region is too visible for me to speak of partisan politics based upon recently-created-shuffled nationalities.


Wednesday, November 09, 2016

Making a mark in the sky

So this happened last year - a solar-powered dirigible was tediously done by a bunch of dozen folks. I came through a trail of reading on solar energy, that started with a presentation by Elon Musk introducing the Tesla Solar, which seems a half-baked plan in its early days (more technology into a rather simple existing solution means more points of failure, and hence more frustration with things over longer period of time, plus the need for greater expertise if something goes wrong).

It now itches to build a small floating solar-powered dirigible of my own. Frustrating, because what is sold as "kids' toys" is still exciting new discovery about the world in my interactive-reactive head. It will lead to failures in other points of my existence chain, which might be perceived as more serious, or be seen as foretelling of a career cascade (if that's not what mine already qualifies for) and hence another thing to cope with.

But that thought aside, plans are already underway to visit the supermarket to get a new stash of bin bags. It will take taping together half a dozen of those, by my intuitive calculation (to be confirmed on paper later). Ideal would be to try replicate a "Pif", a french solar (or rather, hot-air-powered) dirigible akin to a kite maneuvered with both ends tied and connecting to a string connected to a spool that a lucky kid from a village will get to hold (of course, i do the maneuvering).

This would work best in the hills, which is coincidentally where I am. Imagine meself on a lovely morning atop a local summit doing this.

Wednesday, November 02, 2016

You crave for misery, but sometimes it is hard to find. The mornings start right, but the day veers away from your favorite crave-orite theme; and on the evenings all you get to do is try to keep the fragments which were right, to stitch a thread or a garland of that which poured down in the morning and was none but a thin shower through the day. Then, with the onset of dark, you wrap yourself in the garland of your making, and order a cup of ginger tea, and sit down next to the speakers listening to an old bunch pushing you into a new dimension transcending time and space - where all your past loves whizz by, and a sight or a smell or a sensation of an experience catches your attention to consume you fully, blurring the transition from the waking self to sleep.