Immobile Bliss

There was a time, in the not so very distant past, when the only way for me to communicate was verbal, face-to-face. Then came a phone connection, and I gained some (many moments of sweet-nothings, idle gossip, some laughter and…), but lost quite a chunk of my piece of mind. Next came an Internet connection: just email to start with, but my days of freedom and blissful ignorance was already over. Checking my mail became a ritual and Outlook Express my shrine. Soon to follow was access to the cyber maze, yahoo, ….com, google!

About a year or so back, I finally succumbed to the call of the mobile phone. I had resisted for long (couldn’t afford it to be honest), but a generous offer from a friend finally took me in – ‘The cat was belled’.

Post Feb 1, after a long period of mobile phone services being suspended, restored and new offers, my SIM lies wrapped in a shroud of ivory white paper in a small pocket in my wallet. Losing all hope of getting it re-registered (long queues, longer official formalities), I left my handset at Siliguri. Luckily for me, a friend of my wife came to my rescue and voila – my SIM’s been activated and working, but my wallet being a single-function, low-tech device, does not double as a handset, so, I am now in the lookout for a handset.

Not really a situation to crib about, is it? Trust my word, if I had spent as much energy in trying to find the right handset on anything else, I guess I could have achieved so much by now. Magazines, the web, friends – all I have on my mind are WAP, GPRS, Mhz, MB… To top it all, I woke up just the other night using a phone that was a super-hybrid, featuring the best features of a dozen and more phones.

Now I wonder if technology has made my life easier? Looking back at those good-ol’ immobile days, I have my doubts!

A God for a day, a dog the remaining 364

Tihar is over, and with it comes to an end another long round of holidays. No crackers (thankfully), relatively few deusi and bhailo groups – a sign of the times I suppose. The past month has been quite calm and peaceful in comparison to the months prior to it: the Maoist ceasefire, the seven-party alliance on a dasain-induced languor and the administration in its usual state of non-committal defiance. The political scenario foments ahead of a bigger outburst, while I am here recounting the past few days.

Kag tihar, kukur tihar, gai tihar – a long list of rituals and festivities, and me a mute spectator to this cultural extravaganza. I enjoyed most the sight of garlanded dogs enjoying one-day of elevation to godhood. My next-door neighbour who chased any stray dogs that ventured near his front-gate with abuses, water, bricks and stones, sent his son on a mission to get any dog that came his way for the ritual on kukur tihar.

Every dog has his day – perhaps ours is the only place where almost every dog gets to be a God at least one day in a year. The abuses continue thereon, but there is at least a day of respite in a year. And the dog is not alone in enjoying that privilege. The cow is at least 364 times more fortunate, and so is the elephant – they are gods right through.

The marigold garland around the dog and the cow’s neck signifies our gratitude to the animal for lifelong servitude. And yet, it also exposes how selfish we are, and our double standards. Cows are sacred, and bulls often have their way in the busiest of Kathmandu streets, but how many of these living deities actually get their daily dose of fodder. To set a calf free is a pious act, what about it’s life thereafter. The busy streets and lanes of this city is hell for humans, just how does a helpless calf survive in this polluted concrete jungle?

Let dogs be dogs and so, cows, cows. Don’t deify, just give them their share of respect, love and compassion – not one day a year, but 365!

All that Jazz

Defining any genre of music within clear boundaries may be difficult or even impossible, especially jazz, the essence of which is spontaneity and improvisation. I am not an expert in music nor am I a practitioner – I am just an average fan, one who refuses to be taken for a ride.

Its Jazzmandu time again in Kathmandu, and I am yet again stuck with a misgiving. Not with the event as such, but with the artist line up. In fact I have a problem with the way jazz is portrayed here – is jazz really a free for all? Will picking up an exotic instrument tomorrow and making a show of it make me a jazz artist? And will my sounds come under the periphery of the jazz frontier? If blues is jazz, fusion is jazz, pop is jazz and everything is jazz, why have jazz? Why not music? Or even better why have music in our lexicon, why not just jazz?

Sticking to music in Kathmandu, but moving away from jazz – should amateurs and hobby singers be given the stage in paid events? I do realize that every singer starts off as an amateur, but should any one be allowed to practice one’s calling at the expense of another? Support – yes we do need to support our local talent, but can it happen at the expense of our entire music industry and system?

I have heard many of our young artists cribbing about having to struggle initially. Looking at the quality of stars, or rather the lack of it, I believe things are just too easy for them now, and yet the cribs about the going being tough…

Music has to be made and stars too – but?

Banda Bust

I am a maverick and I do not have fixed working hours. I do my work when I have any, but I have a lot of time where I can indulge my pleasures and passions. It is an easy schedule, but living in a city, I do wish for the quiet moments.

Prior to the infamous ‘February 01 – Royal Takeover’ the opposition parties or the Maoists gave me my share of those quiet moments, through strikes or bandas. Well, it’s a banda today and I am welcoming it with flaring nostrils and wide open ears – its refreshing, even more so than a wash with ‘Liril or our own Mayalu Freshness Soap’.

The issue this time, as I have read in a local daily, is the government action against Kantipur FM. Some call it an act of repression, a few others an act of retribution, and most like me, I guess, have no opinion about it or have not had the time to ponder over the issue. There was a cry of ‘Foul Play’ when the station began relaying its programs to Eastern Nepal through a 10MW relay tower. The FM station had a 1 MW license and many felt that relaying it was illegal. Tales of a 7 Crore kickback to the Communication minister Jayaprakash Gupta ran rife, but with time, things just moved on.

And then came the government action against Kantipur for broadcasting news despite the ordinance banning it. What is my say on it? I do believe in the freedom of expression, but I disdain corruption, and logically speaking why FM if the coverage is not local? So, do I support the government’s move? Not really, I’d rather have free access to what I hear.

Anyway, it’s a banda and my schedule is bust. Its clean air, low decibel levels and life as usual: Yes Kantipur or No Kantipur, Yes ordinance or No ordinance…

Wilma hit me too

Living in Nepal, a hurricane has at the most been a natural phenomenon documented by a National Geographic program or, in recent times, the Katrina aftermath on Oprah. Yesterday, a new realisation dawned on me: Katrina spared me, but Wilma did not.

No material damage, no loss of life, but at the wake of Wilma, I was left without access to the website I maintain – www.adtricks.com. Our servers being based in Florida, they were out of service due to Wilma.

Not a scoop as such, but very interesting to know the impact of a hurricane in North America to one living the other side of the earth in Nepal.

Third World Realities

I wrote a radio play, aired it, and then went on to make an animation film out of it. My budget was nil, but enthusiasm and ideas I had in plenty. I know a couple of people who are into video post-production and they helped me with it. It took about two months to finish, and by the end of it all, I ended up spending about Rs. 4000 on it (US $50+).

Am I proud to have made an animation film – well, there are more of static frames than dynamic ones, but it was a good dream while it lasted. The project is over now and the film in question lost in my yard of projects that were abandoned or forgotten after completion. I did send the film to a Film Festival – it is another story that it failed to get past the initial selection round.

I recently got a chance to be involved in a documentary project: to cover the Deepankha Festival, which was happening in Patan, Nepal after 38 years. It was a historic event, but I declined. I still have a sour aftertaste after my documentary fling. Will I ever make a film again? Definitely, only this time, it will not meet the same fate as my last one.

An attempt at animation on a 50 dollar budget – it sounds absurd: see the result and you see that its worth much more than that. Was there a public screening? NO! What about publicity? NO again. Was it then a complete waste of time and effort? Not at all. It ended up being a lesson on life.

I live in a third world country, though, don’t imagine me as a diseased, shriveled-up, hungry and dirty fellow. I live okay, no cars, ipods or razr V3s, but a decent enough life. I am hard-working, honest, creative to some extent, and I dream too. I have a mini DV cam, use an assembled PC and software (pirated, but the best of the lot).

We lack a lot, but we have plenty too. I have seen miracles where it seemed implausible.

We lack, but we adapt. We fail, but we try.

We have limits, we got to work within them.

Up and away before dawn (Horn Festival, Patan - Aug. 21, 2005)

Languid Retirement

Onward Christian Soldier

It’s a war we are going to, a war to win new souls… I am a believer, though I do not recall the last time I attended a church service. If the definition of a ‘good Christian’ is church attendance, I miss the mark by a wide margin, but mark my words, I do trust in the Lord.

Onward Christian Soldier – march ahead to capture more souls for the Lord. I am privileged and feel lucky that some missionary in the past captured the soul of one of my ancestors, one of the earliest among his lot. In sermons and fellowships, I still hear the call given. Yes, I do need to capture souls that are astray and lead them to the path of salvation, and I am a Christian soldier.

There is a multitude of hungry and lost souls, sorely in need the word of god. This is where the Christian Soldier has to play a role.

We need preachers, teachers and more… most of all; we need Christians, not good ones, but true ones.

I woke up this morning, looked at myself in the mirror and asked myself, “Am I ready to make a conquest for the Lord?” No, not yet – my soul is not the Lord’s yet. Let me work on it first, and then we will see…