WordPress was a great platform and I have many happy memories of  blogging and publishing here.

I’m @ http://hubpages.com/hub/Into_the_wild

However, one impression that was registered on my tender mind was how somebody could write such a great tome on the subject of war and peace.

As I was growing, there were some Hollywood war flicks that I watched, prominent being Rambo, of course. It was edge of the seat entertainment for an adolescent. But I could not relate to the events in distant USA or Vietnam or figure out why a single man needed to combat so much on his own.

In between there were true recollections of bravery displayed by my grandfather or uncles or neighbours. Some told me how they beat the hell out of the Chinese or Pakistanis or how some had marched into the heart of Bangladesh to liberate it. They were amusing stories to listen to and delightful especially when everybody gathered around fire on cold evenings. Furthermore, I was filled with a sense of gratitude for they had survived the war. Although they talked of untold sufferings and misery of war I thought there was an air of invincibility around them.

Then came my college days when I was exposed to literatures where war was vilified. Prominently, Farewell to Arms and Arms and the Man had a great impact on me. This coupled with two unforgettable events – the Iraq invasion and the Kargil War. War was real this time – not the legend of retired soldiers or stuff of the movies. Moreover, I saw war in its ugliest avatars. Iraq war was being fought according to dictates of a bully and Kargil war had been launched by stateless actors and regular soldiers hiding behind the persona of a terrorist. I was greatly disgusted and penned an article Shock and Awe about Iraq for a magazine I’d started with some friends. I fervently pleaded for peace in that piece.

So, from being an incomprehensible event to being a stuff of stories and movies, war was a reality that I confronted and loathed. I’m no different from others in this sense. I have also wrestled to find an answer to the question that has been perhaps being asked since time out of mind – Are wars avoidable?

There have been unjust wars and blood has been shed in vain on numerous occasions. However, lasting peace is a myth. Competition is man’s nature. On being challenged, he never backs down. He may understand his limitation, but still forges ahead in sheer folly!

And man, like any other animal, is fiercely territorial. He guards his territory with perhaps more cunning and intensity than most other animals. And man is a victim of his own avarice. No amount of territory can satiate this. War is also good business. Most skirmishes around the world are a consequence of simple business arithmetic. So, conflicts are inevitable.

Peace will forever remain a fragile entity, unless man’s nature changes. That is dubious, of course, as we talk of peoples across the world expanding vast territories and cultures. It would be naïve to dream of peace and one world. It is best to savour peace when one can and be at the ready when war bugles are blown. What is frightening in the modern times is though one may not get an opportunity to lace one’s boots and carry a gun. World may be reduced to rubbles by nukes before that!

I wonder what Tolstoy has written about war and peace. I must read the book some day!

The earthquake hit Haitian capital, Port-au-Prince, on January 12 . It was of the magnitude 7 on the Richter scale. It was indisputably a massive one. The misery it has caused is indeed alarming. As many as two hundred thousand people are suspected to have been killed. The only other quake of a greater magnitude recorded so far, (Richter magnitude 9.5), occurred off the coast of Chile in 1960.

The first images of the calamity I saw were that telecast by BBC. It was painful to see scores of panic–stricken people running about streets and one especially distressful was of a woman in despair, wailing that it was the end of the world. Since then there have been strings of reports and photographs streaming out of Haiti. Most of these are as discomforting as the first ones to filter out of that country.

 Amidst the confusion and chaos there have been some striking responses from various quarters. Countries and individuals are queuing up to offer their best help possible. USA, Haiti’s erstwhile colonist (they occupied Haiti in 1915-1934), was swift to swing into action. Under the leadership of its president, USA has been preparing to launch a coordinated aid at a war footing. The UN Secretary General ,Ban Ki moon, showed no tardiness either in visiting the affected areas and promising the affected aid. However, more inspiring news is of ordinary people pooling their resources through the internet and other media to help those in distress.

On the other hand, the ground situation in Haiti, as is being reported in various media, is uninspiring. Aid has still not reached people fully. Consequently, looters and vandals are apparently growing by day. Very few survivors have been able to see daylight thus far.

Haiti is one of the poorest countries in Americas. The people were already reeling under civil unrest and poverty. The quake has only multiplied their sufferings.

One hopes that order is restored in Haiti quickly, concerted efforts save more lives, aids alleviate the widespread misery and that people are able to tide over this calamity.

Although Keats didn’t sadly have the good fortune to see the majestic Kanchenjunga, what he’s written in another context is a perfect description for this grand peak in the Himalayan range. One who gets an opportunity to see this stately peak (from Darjeeling, I must add!) will approve of what Keats once wrote: a thing of beauty is a joy forever.

One of the blessings that I can count of life is the ability to gaze at the beautiful Kanchenjunga as and when I like, being a resident of Darjeeling. And no matter how much I see this wonderful sight, it never fails to fill me with profound joy and indescribable awe. One can have a sweeping view of the range, on a clear day, from almost anywhere in Darjeeling. But for a tourist or first timer nothing would match the panoramic view one can have from the mall early in the morning or from the Tiger Hill during sunrise. The view from Sandakphu is also an unrivalled, priceless experience.

 Towering 8586 m over sea level, Kanchenjunga and its adjoining peaks seem to touch the sky and overlook Darjeeling town nestled below on its south western side. On a pristine clear day one can have a view of all the peaks from Kang on one end to Sinichilu on the other. Flanking Kanchenjunga from these two ends are other peaks such as Koktan, Kumbhakarna, Rotang, Kabru north and Kabru south, Tolung, Guichla, Pandim, Jopono, Simvo, and Narsing.

 Lepchas, one of the indigenous tribes of Darjeeling and Sikkim, revere this mountain as a deity. Consequently, I think that Lepcha climbers haven’t scaled the peak. But I do not have any hard evidence to back that statement. After all, not all Lepchas today are animists as their ancestors. A major congregation of Catholic churches in Darjeeling are made up of Lepchas. I have also not fully researched into how many expeditions have been to the peak of this mountain. It would be imprecise to give as facts data collated from only one source. However, I think I can share a fact safely though that Charles Evans, a British climber, made the first successful ascent in 1955.

 Beginning of a new year fills us with hopes and expectations. We make resolutions and look forward to actualising our dreams and resolve. However, before we have fully braced up to give shape to our dreams and resolutions, ‘New Year’ rolls by ushering in another one… Towards the end of 2009, I mulled over Longfellow’s philosophy of living in the present, living one day at a time. I must say I was greatly convinced by the theory even though I have not nicked my finger with a knife to sign up as a blind subscriber of the view. One must have an itinerary before setting out on a journey! One can so easily get lost in this maze called life.

I hope that none has concluded that I’m wavering by nature. One cannot get anywhere with a rigid philosophy of life and dogmatic views. I respect Longfellow’s advice to ‘live in the present’. But I would also wish to have a little window from where I could have a glimpse of the path I must take tomorrow. There are a million theories and philosophies and ideas out there. They are all distilled from wide ranging studies, reflections and above all experiences. One cannot adopt a lifestyle or philosophy just because it has suited another to a T. Each life experiences are unique.

To cut the clichéd long story short, I have begun the new year with a resolution to make most of ‘todays’ and also planning and working out for ‘tomorrows’.

My grandpa had a transistor. It was old and already on the way to becoming a piece of junk. This was in late 1980s and early 1990s when TV had already made an inroad into our lives in a big way. However, like a rare monster on the verge of extinction, this transistor tickled my interest. Soon, I would spend a lot of time fiddling with it.

It was then that I discovered BBC world service and VOA.
Soon I was a fervent listener.
I have since stopped listening to radio, but I remember there were many of those wonderful programmes as ‘Anything Goes’, ‘Jazzmatazz’ on BBC radio and country music on Fridays(if my memory serves me right) on VOA . I can still recall the lady presenter on VOA signing off with her signature phrase ‘…wishing you lots and lots of country sunshine…’

Toda radio has largely taken a back seat. BBC  has also grown in its other avatars. But  it remains as engaging as decades ago. I hope it remains a credible source of news and entertainment for years to come.

As for country music, I’ll remain indebted to VOA for initiating me into the melodious world of bluegrass and other sounds from Nashville.

Yes, I found the plot and the characters quite plausible. The premise that human spirit can overcome any calamity was also not far-fetched. However, there are parts where one wishes that the director had paid more attention. I will leave that to the film critics to analyse though.

The movie has hit home to me in a slightly different way. I believe that the world may not come to an end in one blazing catastrophic boom, but if we do not start mending our ways and exerting so much pressure on mother earth, we may not even notice that she has already found a way of easing her burden. Depleting forest cover, vanishing flora and fauna, booming real estate and population that has been growing exponentially has already brought about unpredictable weather patterns throughout the world.

Adelaide is reeling under severe water shortage, Himalayan glaciers are melting at an alarming rate, and studies have already revealed the frightening plight of polar ice caps. These are but few instances; if one will pay attention one will easily notice many more unsavoury changes around them locally.

We are indeed running against time. In the very little time that is left to us now it is imperative that we begin to work together to save earth, save ourselves. Governments may be indifferent, neighbours may be unaware, and there may be too much superficial speeches and no actions; in the face of all consuming greed and apathy we need to plod on. As the saying goes ‘charity begins at home.’

Let us work, each one, in our own backyards. Let’s be frugal in using water, electricity and fuel. Let’s plant more trees if we can. Let’s own fewer, fuel efficient ,low emission cars if we really must have them or else let’s use public transportation or cycle to work or school. Let’s learn more about environment protection and see how best we can educate our family, friends and neighbours.

After all we have only one earth and there are no arcs to save us from our watery graves or spaceships to transport us to a different planet!

When I go to Kalimpong, I sometimes recall my first trip to the place as a twelve year old, almost two decades ago. The memories of that trip are etched in my mind. It was special in more than one ways.

Kalimpong was a land of dreams – I had friends who sang paeans to Kalimpong lollipops and cheese. I had often dreamt that if I was in the place I’d buy numberless lollipops and cheese. It’s another matter that I didn’t have much money then.

Some dreams do not take long to realise. I soon got an opportunity when I was selected to be a part of school volleyball team. I was the youngest member of the team and I had been selected not because I was oozing with talent, but I had been dogged during the practice. My principal had liked my resolve to learn the game and recommended me to the coach. I do not know how the coach initially took that, but I believe he too wasn’t averse to rewarding a determined player’s enthusiasm.

 So, there I was, huddled in the Land Rover among experienced seniors. They sang and clamoured on the way boisterously. The enthusiasm and excitement was infectious. However, I was also feeling vaguely homesick. I must have been awfully naïve. It was the first time I was going away so far without my grandparents, who doted upon me…

 I soaked in the sweeping view of Kanchenjunga, woods, tea gardens, the confluence of Tista and Rangeet Rivers and other sights as our Land Rover rattled downhill. Driving over the Tista Bridge and the road over its banks was altogether a noble experience. I was greatly thrilled during the whole trip, but was also aware of tinge of sadness that coloured my happiness.

St. Augustine’s – which was the school hosting the tournament – was much bigger than our school. We were warmly received and ushered into the grand dining hall. Water melons and biscuits had never tasted better. Before noon, the tournament began. We were the least favourites to win. Yet we put up a great fight. The best part was the coach even let me play in one crucial game.

 The semi-finals were to be held the next day. We had failed to reach the semi-final playoffs, still we put up at the school’s hostel that night. The long journey and the tiring games induced such deep sleep that most players of our team slept like logs. The pranksters had a field day, or rather ‘night’. It was drizzling that night. The pranksters dragged some sleepers along with their mattress to give them an unwelcome cold shower outside!

Next day, we returned. I couldn’t bring many lollipops or cheese slices. I certainly brought bundle of unforgettable memories though.

History is witness to countless ‘Reigns of Terror’ unleashed on humanity. Why does it always take numberless tragedies to sink into man that rigid rules and dogmas, and inversely excessive freedom, only lead to ruin? Why does man deify someone, no different from himself, and subject himself to humiliation of all kinds? One at the grassroots is always the one to bear the worst, anywhere in the world. Ironically, they are also the ones who ready the pedestal for a Mussolini or Hitler. And where do the learned of the high society go at such times? They busy themselves in pamphleteering and thereby fanning the fire for the deified hero, or pore over tomes of books and theories to wriggle their way out.

Theories, I’ve realised at a great cost, are brain child of minds that live on a different plane. I had an erudite friend – one who was well versed in all sorts of high brow theories. I once happened to display my ignorance to him by debating that theories are lost on one who has difficulty making ends meet. It let loose the hell gate of his almighty fury that a quasi-literate had the temerity to question demigods of the erudite fraternity – Roseau, Voltaire etcetera, etcetera. They were giants whose names I could not even pronounce.

“Everything is theory; you are what you are because you know no theory!” That was his final verdict. All the theories he knows might save the world one day, but they could not save our friendship from falling apart that day.