Punk Beat Zizek Crimson Me Rain

Spent whole night witout sleep, came to office at 7pm, made myself a cup of coffee and a cup of pounded rice, it was my breakfast. and it rained, still raining. seems like the sky is pouring me farewell rain. My seven months here is over now. am i getting emotional? may be little! these people are so nice they have embraced really as a fren. Last night they gave me a farewell party too. What wud i miss about thailand? Surey  wud miss this office  and my room the most.
I am writing crap, i know, right now. I am just trying to be productive but no way i can be productive. A sleep deprived man can be productive only in terms of sleeping. But cant go to sleep, have lotta thing to do. need to go to bank. need to empty my bookshelves, need to trash all these lousy physics research notes i made in all these months, need to give away the guitar to the owner, need so many things..above all these my room is in a mess! as usual!

                                     At Terrace Bar: my farewell party

                                                {The rain}
 
By the way, watched a documentary film on the english punk band "The Clash"
Love it thoroughly and learnt more about how political the band was. Same time realise a band can't exist long enuf once they get popular. The same story goes for Sex Pistols too. I have always been a great fan of Sex Pistols and will remain so,,whenever i hear the word PUNK nothing comes to my mind except Sex Pistols and Johny Rotten's vocal screaming out "I am Anarchist"...i was introduce to Sex Pistols when i was doing my bachelor by my fren romesh. immediately i fell in love with the band. my fav track was "EMI" but after i learnt the stories behind each songs i love all the tracks.
And I dont like Sid Vicious at all,  to me he was just a dumbfucked man.

these last few weeks what i did at night was to watch documentary films.
I have watched so much on Slavoz Zizek that now every night i need to watch him talk. What i like the most about this guy is he makes Philosophy sounds interesting and easy for people like me. Long ago i tried reading essays on Existentialism. But i hardly could digest those works by Camus or Satre. at one time i was reading Camus' essay the "myth of Sisyphus". Still i like Camus! but not understood everything by him or Satre. here i dont know how to relate Zizek to Camus. but what i mean is thru zizek i am able to understand what philosophy means. and Zizek is a good start to begin with for me. couple of years ago Zizek was speaking in delhi, a fren asked me to accompany him but i refused. but now i regret it so much.

And the other night i was also watching this documentary film "Rebels: An Underground Journey part 2". The film was on Beat Generation and the beat poets and writers.The film revealed many new things for me like i never knew Burrough had sexual relationship with Ginsberg. kerouac also talked about how the word Beatnik is inspired by the word SPUTNIK in a french TV show.

And after a long time i listened to KING CRIMSON"S album BEAT and reminded me how crazy i was about the band and still i am.

Further

The bus named "Further" with which Ken Kesey along with his friends traveled all over doing their Mind Expansion test. Ken Kesey was 26 and a student of creative writing and became a guinea pig for LSD experiments conducted by the CIA and later used this experience to write "One flew over the cuckoo's nest." and It was the Grateful Dead era u can say that looking at the colors on the Bus.

Music from Nepal

Long ago while i was doing my BSc i was introduced to Robin N Looza, a rock band from Kathmandu. I had a copy of Nepal, one of the albums of Robin N Looza. I love all the tracks in the album specially "Ma Maun Tama" and "Nepal". What i love about Robin is he is not only a great musician but also a very conscious person politically. It was also the time i tried listening to many Nepali fusion music. I still do have cassettes of these songs but i am not remembering all the bands' names. I love "Resham Feriri" and its different renditions thru different music instruments. Recently again i started listening to lot of Nepali folk music but performed by new musicians or bands or i should call them Neo-folk music. One band i really like is Kutumba, a fusion band. It seems they are the most popular band right now in and presently touring UK. I follow their FB page and they are quite actively performing everywhere, going places.
  This track hooked me to Kutumba. And recently through Kutumba's FB page, i again discovered a folk band called NIGHT. This band has every element i like, the political sensibility, the folksy sound, the melancholic touch in the voice, everything.  Check this out 

To sum up: I fucking love Nepali Music from Nepal. i dont know whats the nepali music scene of Indian nepalese. My lober has got me a traditional Nepali Sarangi which i cant wait to play. here is a pic of i. 

hmmmmmmmmmmm!

My term in Thailand as post doc is getting over this month. I will miss Thailand, its people and the food mostly. Now What next? is the biggest question in my life.
I am not applying for another post doc, i think i am done with physics even if sticking to it will only provide me my bread and butter. But I am done whether i  starve or not.

I have few music projects coming up which are very exciting. I am really looking forward to them. and hopefully i will be able to finish writing my folk  rock opera and will be recording them by hook or crook. This project has been on my mind for last four years. Thank God I have music, otherwise i wud have been so pointless as a thirty one years old man.

Sinead O'connor

I am hooked to her music for the moment. Love her politics in music. She is fucking radical. Known her for years but never got chance to dig her music deeply. And again it was my sleepless night that led me to her music and it embraces me.

A morning after a sleepless night

                                 This picture describes me perfect.

o Lisa

O Lisa
I think I am in love with you.
Thank god!
you left Damien Rice
He was just a mouse

O Lisa i don't really speak good english
i don't really know how to swim or dance
but i cook real good

 O Lisa
Do u have your umbrella open?
here it is monsoon, started in June
Will you share it Umbrella
with me?

O Lisa
you dont know me
but still you sing to me
how sweet of you!
wish i could give you an Irish rose

O Lisa
I will learn to bake pizza
I will learn all your songs
 and write letters to you.
if u dont mind i would like to meet you

My Office

It is thom yorke singing in my office and my fab india cup listening to it while my netbook facebooks and the pencil waiting for the first line of a poem while the mouse felt the silent cold of the air conditioned room

Engel gi atiya, suki yaki,etc

 we went to the city for suki yaki. on the way i realized i am obsessed with the sky here. the sky here is so clear, it is like i have never seen it. may be it looks the same in my hometown, but i forget how the sky looks in my hometown. May be i am so occupied in my hometown that i dont notice its beauty around.
This dog came to me after i had my suki yaki. i cud not serve anything to the dog. Poor dog.

Suki Yaki in preparation

 Almost every student in the campus has this kinda bike

Sky of July

engel gi atiya

here i have come across three kind of beers. Leo, Singha, Chang.

Chang is my fav

Burin and one of his students. very blur though.

the dog again ..he kinda looks cute in darkness

 Pit and me, pic taken by chathika

 the sign below says smoking not allowed.

Insomnia leads me to certain things

Saturday, 30th June

Saturday! i woke up pretty late as i felt all this week i was deprived of sleep. Woke up at 2.30pm, had my tin fish-bread meal and went back to sleep after checking mails. Got up at 6pm washed lotta clothes and headed for office bicycling lisetning to Swarathma's new album Topiwaleh.  through out the day even in the sleep something was bothering me and it was my unfinished research paper that i have been working on for past few months. I am trying all i can to finish it asap. But i am real slow when it comes to physics. All those years of PhD i spent playing music in the streets of delhi and wondering about poetry and protest. being a manipuri has taken away lotta things from me. but i dont regret it a bit of it. I am kinda enjoying everyhting. Sometimes I am too stressed but it is alrite.

On my way to office i stumbled upon Khampee and Pit excising and they asked me if i am interested in going out with them for dinner. So we went out together squeezing three of us in Pit's cool bike. this happens often not the first time. it is just that i manage to get a pic today.

()

(Me, Khampee, Pit)

After dinner we were ready for Namkin. namkin is like a hot ginger soup which i find very good for my throat. here is a pic of the Namkin stall 

June 26th

And the cloud came growling "You lousy creatures, what civilization u talking about",,then not even a pinch of civilization left on the road...

these pics were taken on 26th June, 2012. I had no idea it was drizzling. I have been shifted to a new office recently and i have no window to see the outside. so when my frens called me to join them for dinner i went out just to see these beautiful clouds and rain. yes we had awesome dinner too

 I had something called "Salmon teriyaki" which was awesome but it also reminded me of the hindi gali "Saley Teri Ma ki" :D

Me and my Bicycle

i used to ride a Honda moped around here in Naresuan University, Phitsanulok,Thailand. Since the owner of the moped arrived, i have got this bicycle from another fren who is kind enough. I am loving bicycling. The best part is to bicycle back to my room from my institute at midnight listening to Dave Mathews Band's proudest monkey or Dylan's idiot wind. :D if it is windy then it only adds the awesomeness part.

Ukulele/Uke

This is my first ukulele bought with my first salary as a post doc here in Thailand at this institute called "Institute for Fundamental Study". Seen here is also my office. It has been a year i have been digging Beirut's music. their music inspired me to play Ukulele. As i have picked up how to strum certain chords, i have composed many tunes with this Uke. I am hoping to record some of them and include in my next album of Imphal Talkies. what i lobe the most about Uke is its folksy sound and how convenient it is to carry around and travel. Mine is a concert Uke which is bigger than suprano. By the end of my post here as postdoc i am thinking of buying a suprano too. I simply love ukulele.

Burn (Fiction, 2009)

I was reading yesterday's newspaper which I had bought from New Delhi train station. But my mind had already reached the congested and moist bus station of Guwahati. The train was late as usual. We had already crossed the Kamakhya temple. I was peeping through the windows to have a glance of the mighty Brahmaputra and its slim coconut trees. Before the train crossed the river, I could hear a heavy voice shouting, "Anyone from Imphal, there is a Bus at 9 PM!"
Despite his heavy voice, he turned out to be a small 5 feet man with dark skin, he must have been forty I guessed. He could speak all sorts of languages. I kept mum, not hinting anything to him that i am going to Imphal. So he just passed by my compartment with his voice fading away.

After I walked out of the station I met the chap again. Finally I asked him the whereabouts of the bus. He asked "Going to Imphal?"
He took me to the bus station where I booked my ticket for the last bus which would be at 10pm. He too got his share of money from the bus counter for bringing a customer.
I sat waiting at the shed blowing away a smoke. I heard the guys next to me saying the bus won’t leave tonight, as a bandh had been called at Senapati. I asked the strangers what the reason was for calling the bandh. Later I found out , a Manipuri civil servant had been brutally killed by some outfits. At the same time it struck me, "What was I escaping from?” I was escaping from Delhi and its cruelest month April . Nothing was happening there. Life got fucked. No money. All I felt was me evaporating away to sweat and anger. I didn’t know why I was so angry.

So I started looking around for a hotel after confirming about the timings of the bus. I met the guy again sitting in front of a pan shop. I enquired of him about nearby hotels. He took me to one of the cheapest hotels. The last thing I asked him was where could I get a bottle rum, he said, `Wait I will bring it to your room'. So I waited for him in room 23. After fifteen minutes he came with a bottle of Old Monk, I requested him to give me company so he sat drinking with me. Slowly he opened up himself with every peg he threw in his little throat.

His name was Shanti, I told him mine was Akhu and he asked me what do I do and such sort of things. I said I write poetry. He was curious about whether my poems were published or not. It was a surprise to me, how a guy like him bothered about publishing poetry.

He told me he was in a Press some years back. He was married and had a life but it seemed to be quite a bore. He recalled me "Do you remember the 1984 general election?" I said " No.."

He started his story " I was once a worker in this daily news service "Yahouro" you might have not heard of it, it was stopped as its office was burnt down long ago. I enjoyed the work in the beginning, but later their dirty politics made me mad. You know! I was the guy who rode that printing machine deep into the night for the morning newspaper. And those were the times when the rebels started getting involved in everything. As you know, what is happening now is what they started during those days.

Thoiba was a guy who worked with me whole night. We were paid 250 rupees per month. But my wife was never happy with it. I was married for three years. The first six months were romantic, you must have known such thing if you are married.
What made me and my wife sick of each other was our childless life. I was told by a doctor that I am infertile, May be that news brought the silence to my wife. Even when we were having sex, she wouldn't look at me. She stayed still like she was knitting or just sitting. She never looked at me. I got frustrated with my life. My parents were dead long ago and I had a brother who later shifted to Cachar. The last I heard of him was he was opening a pan shop in Cachar. I know he must be doing good. He was always flexible, and to survive with a full grown tummy one needs to be fucking flexible.

What made me more sick was my job apart from my personal problem.
Sometimes Thoiba and I were asked not to print the news as ordered by our boss and we knew he too was ordered by some rebel or some big politicians.
We were the one who sat and gazed at the printing machine whole night. Sometimes we played cards, sometimes we talked of our lives. Sometimes I wrote the diary whole night. I knew my wife read every page of it. That made her more sick of me, as I had mentioned explicitly how I had sex with her like I was some poet obsessed with sex, you know ! like those poets.

But that night of the 1984 general election was something which later led me here to this place. The next few days people would be reading news of so many important things. They would read about the politicians promising to bring harmony and peace, some promising to solve unemployment issues, some promising water and electricity to every house hold. From the side of the rebels, they tried to expose the dirt in our society covering their own misdeeds.
That night would be the greatest night of my life as we were going to print the most important news of that time. There were other important news which I don't want to tell you now.
That night ,Thoiba and I entered the room after we were advised how the front page should look , what should be the head lines and blah blah.
The printing machine to me seemed like something which was going to shoot everything it doesn't want. Thoiba seemed uninterested with that great night and the great news of our times. So I asked him to go home and sleep with his wife and have the best digging of the night. He asked me not to inform the boss about his absence in the room.

So I alone owned the night and I alone was going to ride the machine.
I tore up all the news that had been given to us, I chewed it, I shat on it, I burnt it.
But I printed news, a story of a frustrated guy who sought no attention from this world, who died everyday in his diary with his 250 rupees per month salary, who cried every time he saw his wife and childless womb.
I printed the news with all my most poetic words, I was a poet that night. I was so happy to know I would be read, I would be heard, even if my wife didn't look at me during our copulation.
So at dawn I left the room and walked the empty streets of Imphal as if I was the highway man who robbed the kings and the queens and made love with the princess.

The next evening they took me to the riverside and beat me black and blue. And they were not the police. I knew the police too would come for me. So I hid away from them and that night I went to the place and burnt down the office. I know the machine too must have gotten burnt.
The next morning I took a bus to Guwahati and landed up at this place. From that moment I have embraced this land with my heart. This place has given me the love I deserved. I heard my wife got married to a rickshaw puller and had two babies. I was happy to hear about it. I was unkind to leave her all alone. But I knew she was strong enough to take care of herself.
Now I can have sex with smiles with many sex workers. They love me. They say I am as energetic as virgin. "

Shanti's story ended here and he left the room with his drunken eyes and steps.
Next evening I took the bus and wondered the whole way about Shanti's story whether it was all a lie. Next morning I reached Imphal. The moment I stepped down
from the bus I saw a copy of "Yahouro" at a magazine stall
and the headline flashed as " Here we come at your service after 25 years.”
I smiled and walked the road.