Or may be its the sugar in today's diet

Today was the Solar Eclipse. Tomorrow is my New Year. There has been a lot of debate on when the new year falls- today or tomorrow. Apparently, because of the different calendars and methodologies in calculation of time. My family has decided to celebrate it tomorrow.

This month's horoscope (from astrologyzone.com) and my regular daily horoscopes have been heralding this eclipse and foretelling of great good fortune for me. They have also urged me to work hard and sieze the opportunity. To put into motion all that I had dreamed of achieving.

I am confused. I do not have major goals or dreams as of today. There was a time when I had a plan A and a plan B and a plan C and worked passionately to achieve some of the targets I set for myself. When none of those materialised, I was at a loss and I went back to the world of 9 to 5. I have been at a loss of purpose since then and only continue to work at my job.

So much so, all the impending good fortune makes me excited but also nervous. I feel I might miss the boat if I don't do something. But I do not even know where the boat is going. Or should go. I don't know what I should pack. I don't know what I should wear. I don't know how to how to get to the boat. I don't know my stop. I don't know anything. I feel like I don't have a ticket.

No wonder I feel quite drained this evening. And full of trepidation. New moons perhaps have that effect on us. I'm nervous. I hope things will be at least as good as promised. By the heavens.

Bhairavi and Thoughts on Learning

This is one tough rAgam. It took me weeks to just get the ArOhaNam and avarOhanam right.

Once mastered the swara sthAnAs are easy to enunciate. My teacher has asked me to try Alapana for the next class. This is my homework for the weekend. I not only have to get the frequencies right but the permutations and combinations of the swaras have to be meaningful. Plus there is akAra sAdhana involved. Too many things too early? May be not.

My biggest sorrow w.r.t music is that my voice has not set. It is just like my handwriting. I do not have set penmanship. My voice sounds different at different times. The singing is perfect at times and at others, I can't even get the sruti right. At others, the swaras go wrong. I am getting tired adn disappointed and wonder if I should give up trying to learn to sing.

My voice should have been set by now and I should have been able to sing film songs without difficulty. I should at least be able to catch the tune and reproduce it.

Which brings me to another very interesting aspect of learning - intuitive vs. scientific. When we are children, we learn intuitively- by listening and observing- but as we grow older, we learn about the theory of a subject, the methods of learning, we try to understand our metacognitive skills and tailor our study to meet them. Surprisingly, knowing the science behind a subject ( be it music or a new language) retards our ability to learn quickly as we are constantly trying to analyse and understand the rules the lesson conforms to etc. This may make sense if we have a thorough mastery over the science of the subject but trying to learn the subject as well as its meta-information at the same time is not very wise.

I remember till I was in my PG, that all my learning was intuitive. Then I became friends with a "scientific thinker" and that must have influenced the way I think and learn. I have had this desire since then to reach the scientific depths of something, and it has not taken me very far. Its not a bad way to learn but I have not developed metacognitive skills in this angle. Time to do something about it.

Coming to music, the only solace is that my teachers ( barring the present one) have told me I have a beautiful voice. That is what gives me hope and desire to learn. However, my voice sounds different at different times and the swaras sound different each time. *sigh* . I wish I had the discipline to dedicate at least an hour each day towards focussed practising.

Grace

mUkam karOti vAcAlam
pangurlanghayatE girim
yat krpAtam aham vandE paramAnanda mAdhavam

I hope not

Last night I dreamt of a round ball-shaped snake devouring me. The inside of its mouth was red and fleshy and the snake looked very scary. The dream frightened me. Apparently dreaming of a snake indicates treachery. I really don't need any more treachery or bad things happening to me right now. I have enough. I hope the dream will not presage harm. I feel somewhat afraid. I hope everything will be okay.

Progress Report on the Life of Pi

So I managed to get past a few pages of this "epic". I find it super boring so far. I wonder if these people write specifically for the Booker or whatever prize. I realise the value of elaboration and celebration of mundane and commonly-taken-for-granted aspects of life, but dude, please make it more romantic. Make it warm. The author debates on the value and purpose of zoos and how they trump against the natural wilds. This he has to do because the protagonist grew up on a zoo. Still, the narrative is slow, lacks, punch and romance. There used to be a running joke among my friends when I was in high school about how boring "award films" were. The same could be applied to award books too, I suppose. They authors play to the jury. The books are almost formulaic in structure and style.

The only author who got my attention and actually held it fast when going on for reams and reams about such everyday things as ploughing is Leo Tolstoy. ( ref: Anna Karenina. Anna's lover is a farmer and the act of ploughing is described in painful detail at one point in the book. I read this book a long time ago, but still there is no excuse for not remembering the name of the lover :-( Vladimir something? I do remember the glory of his farming, though).

I like award films. I like award books. I have enough patience to sit through them and absorb the celebration of life through the writer's eyes. I enjoy the intellectual journey. And the challenge they pose to the mind and sometimes, the heart. But Life of Pi has just made me impatient so far. Perhaps it is my state of mind right now and not the book. (Ah-ha! "Its me, not you - A love affair with a book". That's a nice idea for an essay!)

There have been instances where I was bored for more than a quarter way through the book but got hooked on to it later on. E.g., A Suitable Boy- Vikram Seth.

So I will reserve judgement till I am at least half-way through the Life of Pi.

The introduction makes us believe it is a true story. Is it?

Observation

Life is so much more funny through a camera's lens.

Context: Week-long party at Office.

Lessons Learnt

Workplace:

1. Never trust anyone.

2. Get everything in writing.

3. Stick to the original plan.

4. Everyone is looking out only for themselves. No matter what they say.

5. Men are assholes.

The Life of Pi

By Yann Martel. Finally started reading the book last night. Just about read a few lines and fell asleep. The book has been in cold storage too long. Have to finish reading it and return it to the library. It won the Man Booker. I want to see what's so fascinating about this book.

Chicken Soup is for the Sucker

These "Chicken Soup" series of books are a money-making racket. They may have started off sincerely with true stories but the books that came later on - for various types of troubled souls- those are a bunch of baloney. All the stories sound fake and contrived and excessively cloying. You can immediately tell they are unnatural happenenings and the stories are fictitious. Also, a lot of stories get repeated across the soul-types. Almost all stories for all soul-types are about war, Christmas or a father who could not say "I love you" to his son. Or a combination of two or more of those themes.

How come we never heard/read about those acts of supreme kindness, colossal transformational ripples across the country, before? And if they are true, why are the places at which they occured not published? All said and done, the syrupiness is enough to tell that the stories are fabricated. The world is not that goody-goody everywhere we look.