The shoot that escaped the shears..

Star struck..

Single stones can be fairly impressive too..

Sometimes you need a focus to appreciate the background.

Its jus the neon lamps that have changed in the last 50 years..

Sunflowers

The boiler gods are kind to us today..

<Airplane booms> <cricket sounds>

Bleary eyed at midnight..

Not surprising that Wine drinkers have the highest alcohol consumption levels.

A parabolic touch of pink..

And we're back..

The nights when Sula man appears to like you

but one soon forgets.

Tidal wave

In peaceful coexistence..

Booze and the brain..

And we're back with some writing on the wall. Was rather busy and hence
resorted to photo blogging from the phone. Useful thing it is.

It's been awhile since I had a drink. Two weeks to be precise. Altogether too long in
bangalore. Where one's left with frustratingly few options of easy access entertainment. coffee? or grab a drink?

Anyway, here I am spending my day between coffee cups in the campus shop from the pleasant Mr Nagaraj and wondering how I'm possible gonna get over my guilt about not
finishing my reading, to go get drunk. hence the blog.

Ever wondered why you wanna drink? And some more? and get zozzled? Apart from sheer boredom, there's something about alchol and other drugs including coffee, which set off some parts of your brain (extended amygdala system) and confuse it with pleasure signals which normally should have come from food-sex-comfort. And sets off chemical
reactions 4 or 5 times as much, from say food. Why would your poor brain want to stop
drinking? Well because of some other brain areas which can plan, control and think
ahead & determine mood tend to moderate the same system. With time, brain also tries to compensate for the frequent highs by re-setting itself to a lower level. And in people who get hooked on junk/alcohol, due to certain genetic vulnerabilities, with one or more parts malfunctioning, one's enslaved to the need to have 'pleasure-signal'(dopamine) release with alcohol/drugs alone as food-sex-comfort is unable to
provide it.

And if one wonders why, the brain in its infinite artfulness has not had a control mechanism built in(to prvent addiciton, not drinking), like in many other parts of the body; one's on the slippery slopes of evolutionary biology. Theories are many, but simply put; drug addiction and the brain dysfunction that precedes it, increases chances of reproductive success though it decreases survival. That means that even if those genes are bad, they have a higher chance of getting passed on to the next generation coz the owners of those genes are more likely to be impulsively or intoxicatedly have sex. Thus fooling natural selection. And compared to early humans who jus had fermnted fruits, we have highly distilled spirits, thus diverting the external control over drinking.

BTW, IT SEEMS THE PUBS IN BANGALORE HAVE NO QUALMS IN SERVING LIQUOR TO KIDS UNDER 16 AND IF YOU SEE KIDS IN UNIFORM/FAR FROM LEAGL AGE, PLEASE COMPLAIN OR INFORM POLICE. Its largely cruel to allow impulsive insufficiently-myelinated brains to be exposed to alcohol.


Incidentally I refused to take a health insurance because the bastard who was selling it to me on the phone said that mental illnesses were social evils and hence ICICI did not wanna cover it. Sucky money grubbing bastards. Er.. it also came into consideration that they failed to cover cosmetic surgery.

have a great weekend, and i'll see how I can indulge in some moderate drinking.


Osho

Poppy pods on pallus?

Note mid left edge..

Slice of bedtime..

A white holiday can be something else entirely..

It could even give you cash..

Fading to black

More stems above the rose..

We like wood..

Fruits of deco..

Nobody's fault..

Poster for the pearly gates..

Revenge of the bougainvilla..

Sometimes you need less colors..

CO2 emissions..

Sometimes you jus feel like that..

The corridor to sanity..

The shadow of the brain..

It's raining in bangalore. Hurrah! I sometimes think it is some sort of failure of feedback inhibition, (which is the essence of most biological proceses- the idea that makes us tire of everything, sometime), that a mallu brought up with the monsoons, still can enjoy the rain. Everytime. Even if inopportune and likely to get you sodding wet. The great rain trees dripping, the leaves an extra green, the roads washed clean, rivulets along the edges, and brilliant clean air. And intense attacks of nostalgia. Will stop here. You know what i'm talking about. At least some of you who have seen the advancing edge of the rain. :)

So, was on my way home from Jaya Nagar last night. Was a good scene, a Jaya nagar park (which are quite pretty btw) behind, a mild drizzle bathed in strong neon light on empty roads. Saw this guy on the street yelling at some biker who was going fast on rain slicked roads, presumably to avoid the impending down pour, and probably into the hands of some neuro-surgeon. But we'll forget the biker. This is about the guy on the road, the one who was yelling. I think i have seen a good cross section of emotions and expressions, but this time i jus had to stop and look at the guy's face for awhile. Such was the intensity of anger and possibly hatred that I was, to admit it, a bit scared. The man was chewing pan, had water streaming down his face and had anger dripping from the whites of his eyes.

Dynamic theorists (oversimplifying philosophers who science has never touched) will tell you that such aggression is the result of resurfacement of repressed libidinal energies probably from some conflict with your dad over your mom. Funny. How far is this from some tantric who will tell you that aggression is because of devil's energy taking over the person's mind. Well, the point was to try and understand the anger and its real reasons. Well possible explanations include difficulties in your mood control, impulsivity, substance use or being threatened (not in a dynamic sense, but in that threat produces sympathetic activation). And most of these are simpler words to explain the brain's complex functional processes which control mood, thoughts, motivations and reactions to environment. There are specific structures which are related to these, large areas working compositely and specific chemicals modulating these functions through electical activity of the brain. Parts of this is known, and more coming in.

Even with all this, apart from the hard wiring of your brain which forms the substrate for agression and other impulses, there can be a significant contribution of learning. One can learn that aggression is possible, tolerated by people around, learn that aggression relieves some of your mental turmoil and that it sometimes makes some people feel good. And all this, translating through the chemicals and ever changing network connections of the brain. Sometimes, the pattern gets so entrenched that a diagnosis of anti-social personality can be made and, in the words of a professor of mine, the jail is too good for them. Well, in fact, they're pathological more in a social sense than in biological one. They're stuck in a world where their attributes are dysfunctional, which could otherwise have been of survival value in the jungle.. Or a beaurocratic system.

Osho

Functional image of a happy brain..

A glimpse from the foot of granpa's chair..

And we're back even before the dust settles down from the last one. And this time, we will keep the disclaimers for the last, if at all, since it didn't seem to have helped last time.

When we watch all these stand up comedians do stuff on indian parents, we really laugh along don't we? Impressions of old grannies with disapproving looks, forced marriages, meddlesome aunts, screechy sisters, the patient but irrational dads. And done to death by movies for the indian english audience, the other side of the world/life. I mean, who hasn't had the compulsive urge to stab Zohra Sehgal on her face for her grandmom roles? mostly for the repetitiveness and distortion of it. Yes, even in an indian english gay movie. But in all this, deep down, somewhere there seems to be a resonance which makes us wonder about all this.

At the heart of all this is the cultural difference, and that is common knowledge. And our generation is caught in the middle of it. Like bang in the middle, tearing our pants apart types. Living a western life, in a boat tied varyingly loose to the intangible set of limits, values and emotions(not the least of which is happiness) which forms our culture. I have seen it form both ends, miserable lonely middle aged mothers, and sad lost adolescents. Well, we all have.

One way to look at this could be to go along the idea of self. one wonders, where the energies for a person extending his self (for working defnn read last blog) to his family, come from. One really has to live in a middle class indian family to see where it is coming from. By the force of habit/societal norms and i am guessing, by the lack of adequate peer/parallel interactions, the entire force of a family's emotion and energy gets invested in each other, and consequently in the unsuspecting children. My dad used to say that he used to go for walks with us, for his own selfish pleasure. half true or fully so, i don't know. Even in the absence of such insight (for which i cannot stop admiring my dad), it could very well be operative for a majority of families. The emotional investment is so large, that one cannot help prevent a diffusion of the parental self to one or more of the children. And this is where it gets more murky. The extension of self, brings with it the extension of your own aspirations, expectations and not in the least your own insecurities bang all over your child. How can it not, the child is not a child, but MY child.

The role of a parent, as in all descriptions in sociology is to raise a child to be independant and prepare him for the world. The child has a role in caring for his parents, but the child should in no way be the sole source of joy and raison d'etre for the parents. For then, life cycle doesn't go forwards, but just in circles. I imagine what it will be like to let my own child go. It won't be easy, but I will be cheating the system if I didn't.

Then again, less of a problem if we continue to live in our own cultural system. Without the exposure to an altrenate life which is more liberating, exploratory and individual centric. It is a problem for the us at the interface of this mind-self continuum.

adios,

osho

Disclaimer two rpt: it may not apply to a significant minority or even a majority of people. But i am convinced that there are a lot people who fit in. A significantly scary bite of the pie chart.

I, indian..

So, we're back with some more musings. Been quite lazy and figured the photo-blogging feature of the new-ish phone might actually help prevent RSI. Though, i'm told I am likely to have arthritis of my thumb joints from all the messaging. A good way to go, that.

disclaimer one: the following is in part the extract of a discussion i've had with a few friends off late. credits for whole or part of it goes to the unnamed souls who will recognise themselves, and who i think, would rather not be acknowledged with a name in this paragraph.

discliamer two, this is a generalization. many of you will not fit into this model. hence, consider without defensiveness.

Some general gyan was happening about some friend of mine being unable to step out from the shadow of his parents well past his adolescence. got us thinking about the idea of self in India and how it is different from the west (pertinent, for that seems to be a life a lot of us are living). Much has been written about it, but I have not read enough, and will not now, coz this will only be a passing refernce. So, basically we came to a conclusion that the Indian Self (referrring to a majority), is one which is a 'limited-diffuse' one. Diffuse in that, one does not have well defined boundaries of one's self (decisions, loci, impulses & motivations), but extends to that of one's family (big and small). Limited in that, one is really not able to allow suffusion to the outside world, and simulataneously keep one's self clear.

Moving on, what really seems more appealing is the idea of our pride. A personal one and a collective one (closely linked to that of self). the personal one is often more a defensive one. For eg: it is usually the kind of pride which will turn up at the first moment when one is threatened, but not a pride which is happy and self aware. Not the kind of self-assured-pride which would have made us say, refrain from spitting on the road, or beating wives. And again, like a lot of other behaviors, the absence of this pride, could be partly explained form the childhood socio-cultural milieu. At some stage, if you don't have enough money to feed yourself or provide happiness in life, it is diffuclt (not impossible)to have that kind of pride to not spit on the road. Again, this pride is not one which is fostered from our school system. Most schools, (less these days) focus on getting children to live in the system and grow up 'humble' without any attempt at developing a sense of person, self and achievement. Again, with a lot of exeptions. To jus stretch the point, the defensive pride, is what often makes the bad drivers on the road, get aggressive with you for their faults. the fucking rats..

The collective pride, is worse. Having had few common pegs (rising these days, thanks to some good things happening) to identify as a country and develop pride as 'indians', one is forced to try and find the collective pride in smaller and smaller divisive groups. like kannadigas ( a sensitive lot, oh man), southies(read non-choms), aiyers, gay men. Smaller and smaller existentially rocking boats with little real anchor for our pride.

A little or more is true for most of us. A little or more denial will help things stay the way they are..

Osho

From the other side of jail..

Bangalore spring..

We all bow to the cow in some form or the other..

Mrs Yigael's wall..

Even jaya nagar can be pretty..

The crusader for road safety..

tradeoff for high humidity..

Ergo

The oldest railway station i've seen...

Library..

The kids must have become tamer considering the delegation of that board to the upper echleons of the crowded book world. Where no kid can ever see it. They used to keep the comics under the watchful eye of the issue clerk.

Allgaye

All beautiful at least

Nature bites

As straight as it can be..

due to allegations of plagiarism, the comments have been withdrawn. :)

Through the looking glass

The difference between addiction and life.

lost exile..

And thus it comes to pass that I have stooped to competing for post numbers. But we're hoping to have such considerations disregarded, and enjoy the time spent tapping out some stuff, and with it some of the frustration of the day. Apart form the idea of rock and roll bachata, which was a source of much rolling around the floor laughing business. (ref: bachata is some singaporean dance form where one practically has sex with a partner on the dance floor.. in thongs. as I have recently learnt).

disclaimer: there might be some more mush. Considering the flak I got for the post 2 or 3 before this, about creases on a woman's face, I thought this might be appropriate. Anyway, it is quite something to sit across an interview table in a crowded OPD, with a disinterested lady sitting right across and a 100 page thick file with 30 years of follow up notes. She would stretch her free drug card across and ask for meds, and could go home with as little interaction as 'is everything ok?' and a nod to that. Sometimes, in all the crowd and heat, there are moments where u get stuck and are tempted to wonder what this lady really has happening in her mind. A daughter in college, a husband not giving a damn about what she is? the brief mention in the last post was about when such a person would have given up thinking that the world is not really beautiful, and jus something to live on. And maybe not be bothered by it, and smile when u can. heck.. But of course, you're back on top gear cynicism for the next case. Back to ORM, MW, CST. (on regular medication, mantaining well, continue same treatment).

btw, for all the people out there who know ramnathpuram with its absolute cessation of life, it seems the new batch of students are there armed with comps, gprs phones and internet. Hard to think that possible, where the heights of luxury used to be CMOs phone and the coin booth outside where u can have all the local gossip. Wonder if it'll ever be possible to have 6 weeks of absolutely lazy life, 3-4 hours of work on alternate days, experimenting with all the newly learnt skills, cooking in the evenings, cricket with the local kids(and losing at it), badminton in mosquito filled balmy evenings, laughing for reasons enough to guarantee a bed in ward 18(psych), climbing the water tank to see the sunset, climbing the water tank for no reason, getting drunk silly and disturbing the locals with loud music, walking in the paddy fields at night with a small torch and a new found feeling of small fear for all the unfamilar sounds, going to the dam at night. pakodas in the evening, guilt of not reading, sneaking off to pondy for a short refill of civilisation, oustery lake while zooming on the bike, fights over the mess bill, fights for no reason.

life for no reason..

a short bow to that place.

osho

Attention inattentives..

The flag was actually held by a wallaby, which was, also made in china.

And so we're back. (And with that i wish I could have had an applause track. there's nothing like parallel ratification of emotions, to push one into docile submission of laughing/crying/being in awe.) The picture and the blog is not planned to sync very well, for all the organization freaks out there. The pic was just one for a wry smile, for the facially non-paralytic. And to ping those who browse through. Wave a blue flag?

Which is not something too far from this something I was thinking about. Well, forced to think about after an argument with a friend who insisted on making a blog into something pre-digested, organised and brought down to the lowest common denominator. Obviously, a personal preference and possibly the product of having made hundreds of useful and effective presentations and arguments. But then again, some of us are crippled by residual Attention deficit disorder (attentionally challenged?) and have our thoughts running all over the place. And also like our inputs in less than perfect organization. I would think that there is something appealing about shifting frames, and random processing, at least out of work and academic reading. And thus, this is a blog for those with attention spans tuned to Tv commercials. [Note: the authors(me and my id) realize the discord between the expected readership and the post lengths, and a progressive shortening can be expected]

Might as well do something useful by dwelling on adult ADHD for a bit. It is reasonably common and there is useful treatment. It is presumably related to problems in development of attentional circuits in the brain. If u want to know if u have the disorder, take a modified Utah scale online. And ask your parents. The medication for this is US FDA approved (relatively safe) and somewhat effective.

And btw, comment moderation has been enabled thanks to some infringement.

osho

Addams family at k c das

How i'd love to be in that glove. The translucent hand of slow sweet death. Wonder why k c das is not yet banned in the land of diabetics. But personally, it is a source of great joy. And cholesterol. But joy.

Koshy's on a saturday morning..

Attempts at photoblogging from phone..

breeze from the past..

And we're back. After a long dry spell. Of travails and frustrations i've cribbed unto eternity. so, there will be no more of it.

Except for this small frustration with installing my new phone software onto my computer. All this while I have strictly maintained that windows is a good compromise between the do-it-all-from-scratch Linux type systems and a everything-taken-care-of-gramdmom type OsXs and tigers. But it is at these times that one is forced to admit that it is jus so much more easier to be pampered with a mac. Then again, that would have to wait for another earning decade. Yes, it is slow for us doctors. Eternal penury, happiness in service etc etc. Largely quite a happy scene. It is when it crosses over to servitude that we have problems with it.

Suffice it to say that the last few months have been an immense growing up experience.
These days i look at the creases on an old woman's face, woven with time and effort, and wonder how early she must have realized all these in life. About relationships, self and such. About adolescent boys who give up school and work early.

And about how easy it is to forget all that u learn. And how scary it is to consider the possibility of learning it again through a sad and traumatizing incident.

hail, our infidel memory..

osho.