My Ivory Tower

I would often wake up in middle of the night purely out of excitement - excitement that had lost its cause in obscurity. The feeling was intense - my heart would throb heavily, my body would be taken over by a feeling of sprightly restlessness and I would feel this strong urge to involve myself in some activity. I almost always read a book or began to write something down on a piece of paper. I would calm down after about thirty minutes or occasionally one hour; my circadian rhythm would get back into action and make me sleepy again.

It was a prelude to my bipolarity spreading out to the extremes; and I am so glad it began on a high note. I knew something was slightly abnormal, but the feeling was good and I just let the chips fall where they may. I didn't have a strong social or philosophical bent of mind. My thought process was unilateral - I just did what I liked to do. 

Most of the time I felt as if a thrill of restive energy had shot through my body. It just wouldn't let up. Every single second I was awake, I was constantly in action. I was always learning something new. 

Languages:

I loved learning new languages. I learnt a bit of French from my dad's book 'French Made Easy'. I learnt how to read Russian (and basic Russian greetings). I polished up whatever Kannada I had learnt during my days in Bangalore and picked up a bunch of other Indian languages reading the multilingual leaflets that came with most of PnG or HUL products. I could only read the text in these languages without comprehending anything, but even doing this bit slaked my desire to a certain extent. 

[Ironically, I couldn't continue with either of these languages later on and learnt some totally different languages.]

Ambidexterity:

I was born left-handed, but could always use my right hand better than a right-handed person can use their left hand. After about three years of practice, I had become fairly ambidextrous. I could write, brush my teeth, bowl and do a few other unnoticeable activities using my right hand. This faculty of using hands also exposed me to certain observations I had never noticed before - i) the right shoulder of right handed people is wider. It is clearly evident in case of bowlers who have to use one hand a lot more; ii) right handed people can't turn their neck as far to the left  as they can to their right, and if you catch them sleeping on their stomach their neck will probably be turned to the right.

Fitness:

I loved running in the dark, but my hometown was too unsafe to run alone quite early in the morning or after sunset, so I would practice stair climbs followed by a fixed number of sit-ups in my home (but I totally sucked at running, and my stamina was comparable to that of a crow-bait). I loved football, so the evenings were reserved for honing my dribbling and juggling skills (I was and still am really good at this, but it didn't make me a good player at all FYI). My fitness was very very low, but I was VERY passionate about it. 

[I have made considerable progress on this front in the last couple of years.]

It was at this point that I cultivated a passion for writing, and my appetite to study the coursework whetted considerably. I felt most emotions in extremes. My hobbies were more like my obsessions. Despite living in a constant edgy state of excitement I was extremely disciplined, and my daily schedule was as predictable as clockwork.

Social flop:

My social life was a dismal bust. My involvement with society and friends plummeted rapidly as my indulgence in my own set of activities increased. I was already an unsocial guy and much to the disappointment of my parents it was getting worse day by day. There was days when I barely felt the need to talk to anyone. I was captivated in my own universe full of delusions and ambitions, fueled by tons of raw energy. I always ribbed social conventions, niceties and use of informal chit chat or formal exchange of greetings. It was perhaps this distaste for societal elements that I made my first conscious attempt to escape mediocrity. I (wrongly) thought I had been successful to a certain extent.

Today:

As I mentioned I was a social flop. I had never imagined this single shortcoming would later overshadow all my skills, all my passions and whatever I stood for. Maybe that's an overstatement. But it certainly has to some extent dwarfed the creative side of mine. If I confess, I never thought I would ever feel the urge to become social and outgoing again. I thought life would continue running on a high note, but that phase turned out to be just an extended crest of the sinusoidal ride I had embarked on. 

Nine years on, occasionally overwhelmed by an overdose of foresightedness, confusion, failures, foundering career, competition, proving yourself, lack of direction and most importantly lack of a social life that I now wish for, I very often pine for those days when all I had was an unusual amount of raw energy, leading a life  which was simplified by lack of social wisdom, my blinkered outlook and unhindered focus on what I wanted to do. With my expectations and reality wide asunder, I sometimes hope I could get back into that state of mind again; that I could go back to my ivory tower again.

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Walking the crater rim: Gunung Batok

This is one of the more adrenaline pumping activities I have done. The rim is really narrow, and whatever horizontal base you initially have disappears at times. It's slightly risky at some points. You have to be surefooted and focused, and must have no fear of heights. For most of the walk, the fall into the crater is really steep with no obstacles in between. But once you reach the diagonally opposite side, it becomes much less steeper and pretty much safe to walk. 

Once you reach the opposite side, you also get to see stunning views of a valley that is otherwise hidden from public view, and a long chain of mountains. Here is a video to give you an idea of how steep the inner side is (you need not care about the outer side since if you fall you will end up on one of the sand dunes and not some crater), and how it looks like to a bystander. FYI that's not my video and it's not me in the video.

Here is a video I took while walking on the rim and it will give you a faint idea of how it feels walking on the rim. This is the valley I was talking about and the views you are rewarded with once you climb up the peak bang opposite the point of entry.

I backtracked the path since the other half was tougher and required more time to cover, and we were pressed for time. 

Some pics of the same follow -

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Books on (South East) Asia

Here's a little about some of the books on Asia that I have read -

[26th Jun 2015]:
Into Thin Air: An account of the 1996 Everest disaster. The last hundred pages or so will haunt you for a long time. It also gives a glimpse of how the commercialization of climbing Everest has led to a deterioration of what was once a pristine place and a compromise on safety protocols.

[Edit: 12th Apr 2015]
Krakatoa: The Day The World Exploded: An account of the volcanic eruption of Krakatoa that remains unparalleled in its wrath and magnitude. It has a slow and dull beginning but it turns a gripping read soon.

[Edit: 02nd Jan 2013]
Out of Mao's Shadow: Another brilliant work that brings to the forefront stories of people rising against the authoritative and often corrupt Chinese ruling machinery. Just like 'Nothing To Envy', it is a great work of investigative journalism.

[Edit: 17th Dec 2012]
Wild Swans: One of the BEST BOOKS I have ever read, and definitely one of the best on China. There are few books I have enjoyed reading as much as this.

[Edit: 30th Nov 12]
Norwegian Wood: A dull start but then it starts growing on you as the story develops. But I guess it's the case with every decent book. The book had some shocking and surprising moments, and I find it hard to explain. If you have seen Chungking Express, let me tell you this book is very similar to that movie, only darker and sadder. Luckily the ending was a bit optimistic.

Off the Rails in Phnom Penh: One helluva book. This books does a skillful job of profiling Cambodia. The chaos, lawlessness and pathos of people have been aptly represented in this book.

First They Killed My Father: A poignant first hand account of a Pol Pot regime's victim.

Only 13: This is apparently a bestseller in Thailand. I find it really hard to form an opinion about this book. There were some sections which were gripping, and a lot more sections which sounded foolish and totally unwanted. The writing is kind of poor, and I finished this book half heartedly in a long time.

The Cambridge History of South East Asia: I so wanted to read about ancient history of South East Asia, and after spending some amount of time and a good amount of cash bought this book. There's no question about the authenticity and validity of the content of this book, but it's just too scholarly and boring. It discusses topics like society, administrative architecture, economic condition et al in excruciatingly detailed manner.

Little Princes: This is an epic story of a guy who saved children in Nepal from the ring of trafficking. In the first fifty pages the author just twaddles about his experiences volunteering in Nepal  But later it becomes really engrossing and you realize how this book received five stars on amazon. 

Oracle Bones: An excellent piece of work by Peter Hessler describing contemporary China! No other country intrigues and interests me like China and my recent trip to China further fueled my love for this country.

River Town: A poignant, and often funny, account of a wàiguórén's two years teaching English in China. Peter Hessler again.

Nothing To Envy: It highlights stories of six people who defected from North Korea. Poignant, touching and often dark, it is a must read!

Other book(s) worth a mention: 

Memoirs of a Geisha: Read this book a long time ago when I was in college. Really good fiction that ends with a tinge of nostalgia.

South East Asia (and Asia in general) is an exotic (and cheap!) destination, and has got some really good literature and cinema. I will keep updating this section as I finish more books.

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Where are the mountains?

Place: Gambir Train Station, Jakarta. It was Hari Raya, and the city was hibernating.

Each moment had been dipped in tedium and stretched out to eternity. There was absolutely no sign of liveliness, and even the slightest clatter from any activity immediately got sucked into vacuity that reigned the place. I had to endure a wait of more than two hours to catch my train; but I was excited. I was going to Bandung - a sweet cozy city nestled in mountains buzzing with young college going crowd. More excited I was about the train journey which, as I had read online, offered rewarding views of mountains!

I love mountains and I love winters. Ironically I live in a place where the highest point has an altitude of barely 165 meters, and where people celebrate Christmas in shorts.

Coming back to Jakarta, the train finally arrives and I jump in immediately. It takes another fifty minutes before the engine finally starts chugging. The train at last trudges past the dead platform and I prepare myself for the sparkling majestic views of grand mountain peaks that are soon to arrive. The journey is three hours long.

Fifteen minutes into the journey

It's still Jakarta. I see buildings, roads and roofs of low-lying houses.

Twenty five minutes into the journey

Slums of Jakarta.

I am getting impatient now, thirty precious minutes have passed and there's still no sign of any mountain or even a hill. I doze off. When I wake up, the slums are gone. But still no mountains.

I see a few people, cattle, chicken and other mundane stuff. I am losing hope now.

I see more people, more cattle, more chicken.

Tree stumps, naked children, rubbers tubes ... goats ... dogs ..... pigs...

PIGS AHOY!

The sight of those porcine creatures reminds me of my friends. I start missing them.

More than an hour has passed now, and I am cursing the person who praised the majestic views you get to see traveling from Jakarta to Bandung in a train. Much to my envy, the lady sitting beside me is sleeping like a log. Four rows ahead of me is a bunch of guys from Chongqing in China. Each of them is sleeping like a log. Outside, sitting in the shade is a cow masticating lazily with its eyelids draping upper half of its eyes and its face wearing a stark look of apathy. I bet the cow is more excited than I am.

Two hours have passed now. I can't wait to get off the train and run like a randy horse in the streets of Bandung. Finally I see a faint outline of an elevated landmass far away. Woohoo ... mountains! They start getting bigger as the train approaches them. They aren't majestic as such but it's nice watching them assume a distinct shape against a dusky background. I take a few pics and then sit excitedly close to the  window getting ready to appreciate the view outside. The mountains are so close now. And then all of a sudden the entire world blacks out. Boom. Some kids start hooting as the train passes through the tunnel.

It must have been a long tunnel. I don't remember when I dozed off again, but when I wake up there is no tunnel and no mountains. Nevertheless the train is moving at a high altitude and the weather has become slightly cooler.

The train is only a few minutes away from Bandung. The quotidian details of outskirts of a city start appearing again. Looking thoughtlessly at the view outside, I zone out after a while as I start thinking where my career and my life are going.

PIGS AHOY!!

Reality hits me, and I miss my friends again as I look at those swines wallowing happily in dirt.

The train finally drags to a stop at Bandung. I jump off and scuttle towards the exit. Once I am out I realize I have absolutely no plan or information about where to go or what to do. I drink two bottles of water, find a spot to sit and read a little about Bandung on Kindle. After fifteen minutes, I have narrowed down to two places to visit. I approach a lady sitting behind a counter and ask her more details about each place. I decide to go Jalan Dago. I walk out of the place.

[PS: Bandung is indeed a lovely buzzing city and a good weekend getaway. I also went to a lesser known crater lake called Kawah Putih which was also totally worth it. But the overgrowing concern about my career and frustrations of a lonely life got the better of me due to which I couldn't enjoy this trip too much.]

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