Age or Ageless

..... For quite a while off late I have been thinking about this concept called Age. For one I relate this concept to that same most trivial aspect of what is called as Life as brought about by far one of the most revered Philosophical entity who lived in this great country called Jiddu Krishnamurthy. That concept that I see a relevance with age is Time.
Can we call age to be subset of time? How is that we can define age as? what is age as a noun? Well here it becomes so very ambiguous and I find myself discombobulated with the whole thing. Is growing old is what you call Age? Or is that phenomenon of some accomplishment that has been carried out through one's life? Or is that duration of time that has been invested in this accomplishment? Yet again I find myself lost... it seems a whole lot of entanglement, overlap and chaos.
What is your age? The common notion or if I wish to call it as the response to stimuli in the society that I exist in would be " How old is this person?" who is in the context of being asked the question. The observation of the self is that not even in the sub conscious mind of the questioner there would be a thought "what is your achievement?"
An achievement or an accomplishment is actually irrelevant to the fact there is age is attached to it by commoners. So, ladies and gentlemen, this yet beautiful world of our's have seen flashes of lives as brilliant and as eye hurting as it happened during the "Fatboy" explosion at Hiroshima on the 6th of August, circa 1945 . Short lived flash....... eternal impact on the human race.
Here are men and women the world has witnessed who have lived for just a few years but they have impacted this very world to the eternity. "Che" lived only 39 years. What a life that was!!! Oh boy he till date is branded as the brightest spark of revolution that the world has seen and so shall he be till the world sees the doomsday. I wonder if ever anyone has questioned Che what's your age mate? But then I can vouch for the fact that nobody ever probably dared to put forth that question to the " Jim Morrison". He lived only as a stint.... 27 years. He was what one can call a Free Radical human star. What has he not done in life?? He got married too? He died when he was 27..... He lived there on eternally.... There are a whole lot of such people who lived for stint... killed themselves but lived on forever.....I could just rattle of few such names... Kurt Cobain, Janis Joplin, Jimi Hendrix ...... These are men & women who were born as commodities but went on to become a brand that would never phase out as long as Terra Firma would cease to exist. The icons started a cult that would live on and on.
Bhagat Singh, Sukhdev & Rajguru lived and died for their nation at an age much younger than the ones that have been mentioned afore. Ofcourse they lived on as well.
I felt that I was a part of the cult... thought that I may just end my life sometime soon... this very year was what i thought earlier... rather wouldnt have minded if I did so. Then I saw a few more people around who lived the life to the fullest even in terms of time... Those who wished they could live a little more longer so they could make this world that we live in a better place to live.
I think of that old woman who has a zeal to live who teaches her grandkids the value of livelife in values. Well this is just another woman who doesnt have a face but when questioned why she wanted to live for a few more years says "there is that world , that beautiful world I want my children and grand children and their children to see which I have seen. I need to live because I can give them what it takes them to retain the beautiful world that I have lived in". Here is this woman who no one knows who is unheard of, but she has left a cult back that may retain her beautiful world.
A few incidents in the recent past in the life of the self who had always been thinking that the end is the reality has changed the way how the self looks at things now. I have a motive to live. I have a life to live. I have to give my successors, my companion atleast this beautiful world that I live in.
I must admit that there are four kinds of people who live in this world. Ones who live for short and live on forever, ones who live for long and cease to exit there on, ones who live for short and forgotten an one who live long and live forever towards eternity. But the question comes back yet again what is your age?

or

Is it Age or Ageless ?

Signing off
Phaedrus

and the

Actor.... Theater... Life

..... In 1993 a few months after people were awarded the best in their categories for their exemplary work in the year 1992 at the "Oscar Academy Awards" a strange incident took place. As heard, A man met his co actor in a gathering and found that the co actor, although not awarded but was still appreciated for his characterized performance and said something to him. Here it is what he said "I heard that you were fantastic son, I am sorry I couldnt congratulate you since I never saw your performance, remember I played a Blind Man". The man who said this was Al Pacino and who heard was Chris O'Donell . The movie in context was "Scent of a Woman". Now that is what I call performance. Al Pacino played Col. Frank Slade in the movie who is a blind man and Chris O'Donell plays Charlie Simms. That is the commitment of an actor as i perceive. Apparently Al Pacino used prosthetic contact lenses so that he could fake his performance.
Well I knew who Al Pacino was from quite sometime, but little did i know about him. Hence I went ahead googling on Al after I heard this anecdote. Lo Behold! what I found was the dearest to my heart. I gathered that Al used to perform in the theater before he moved to the big screen.
Theater is something I believe can produce the finest actors on Terra Firma. I can stand up and vouch for my statement "Actors are from the Theater, Others are mere stars". I regret that I am not a part of that world now. I was though belonging to it in my past. I have been a witness to umpteen number of plays. I cherish every moment of the time that i have been associated with the theater directly or indirectly.
Those movements, the stage occupation, the histrionics, the music, the presence of mind exhibited by the performers, in short every aspect of the theater holds me captive till date. When I started off being close to the theater I had converged my thoughts only towards the point of enacting the roles that were designated to the actors. Little did I know that theater was much beyond the acting as well. Theater has probably been an integral part of every society from aeons probably much before than man could even count leave alone scripting. The local moral stories may have been performed as plays. This kind of an art form is practised in the Management Institutes to an extent till today. Then the theater refined itself to be an incomparable art form. As my quest for knowledge as aligned to theater grew, i can relate that state of mind more to an earthworm. The more you chop the more it grows. Hence I started to be a little more educated on this front. Along with the acting comes a lot more other things. The costume designs, the stage settings , the music that goes with the play, the art direction, lastly the most important aspect of a play, the concept or the plot of the play. Art direction was something that inherited as a learning from a dear friend of mine who had worked for umpteen number of years for "Rangayana" in Mysore. The concept of a play is what keeps the audience ticking.
Has anybody in India ever thought that Seeta may have been thinking about one of the most handsome man she has encountered in her life, Ravana, although she had just caught a glimpse of Ravana in the disguise as an ascetic. Infact, her thoughts about Ravana are instigated by Shoorpanaki in disguise well after the Kind and the Queen started living happily ever after. I just fell off my chair at the end of this play when Seeta actually draws the painting of Ravana impeccably accurate and the painting comes alive. That was the play "Chitrapata" directed by the one of the most brilliant actresses that India has seen "B.Jayashree". I admit that this concept is very radical when the target audience are Indians. So be it. "The Blue Coffee Mug". How does that sound? inane, abstruse, abstract, irrelevant....?? I would advocate it to be a revelation. It was the actors of new genre who came up to put up a play with a phenomenal message that can keep the audience awestruck with their fingers on the nose point. What started of as a comical histrionics by a man who suffered from amnesia, a man who is not grown up to his age and a man who seemed to sensible sent a message to the audience that the riots in 1992 was unwanted, the child abuse around the world and in India is uncalled for. A few of them around me were moved to tears. I have a lot more to say though about the concepts but will stop right here
I very well know that every one in this world knows that there is a difference between the big screen and the world of theater. Ofcourse this includes the fact the there are no retakes in the theater and other mundane stuff. There is more to it. An actor on the stage is actually interacting with the audience unlike the the tinsel town figure. A play like "Maya Seeta Prasanga" which was directed by the most revered entity of the Indian Theater M.S.Sathyu for Rangayana which is corroborated by bringing in the element of "Kathakali" into the play which is a little obscure although not obsolete. The postures in the play enforce that the actors are meant to be statues for the entire duration of the play. Having an audience right in front of you who may not like this kind of adaptation who may even consider it to be some kind of adulteration can always be a taunting one. An actor on the stage has to bear all the tantrums that the audience exhibit and yet come out as a winner.
Oh! I can just keep scribling around her about what i love for ever. So shall abruptly end here. Work is an excuse that I have to get back to....some other time

Phaedrus

Game ... Set ...... Match

.... On a balmy summer afternoon, a thought just struck my top floor. I all of a sudden remembered one of those anonymous Mills & Boon books i had read as a kid (ofcourse i read quite a few of Mills & Boon as well). Well what seemed to be a bunch of crap all the while after i deserted the M&Bs to grow to read some thing more real and hard hitting, came back just as a point blank thought. I remember in one of those inane conversations that a woman has with her friend in one of those M&Bs with her friends that she wants a man who would be Tall, Dark and Handsome as her life partner. The man should possess thighs and legs as that of a Tennis Player. There it was!!! Tennis is one such game which enforces any human playing the game to possess the best of the Physic and the human must be an epitome of stamina. I cant remember since when i've been following tennis from, although I never ventured into the sport personally. As far as my reminiscence is accurate the first ever time I watched a tennis match was the French Open finals in 1987 on Door Darshan when i was all of six and a few months, while my brother who coaxed into watching was around 11ish then. I knew nothing about tennis, I knew nothing about who played the game, I knew nothing about where in the world it was being played. I was what some one can call as "Innocent". The reigning queen of the world of tennis then Martina Novratilova had lost to a 16 years something kid called Stephanie Graf. I knew neither, but the flouroscent colored ball traveling from one court to another hooked me on. Then it had been tennis all the way. No, I am absolutely no historian of the game. I watch the game out of sheer passion. I dont feel deprivation of not being part of it. I feel this is one game that can bring out the character of sportsman.
Tennis has always had repetitive fights for the titles by the same players. One could witness the same players facing each other in the finals of every Grand Slam. If some one is an aficionado of the game, then he or she may have witnessed the clash of titans, Federer and Nadal battling it out for the title umpteen number of times. One can hear words like "The King of Grass" taking on the "King of Clay" or "The Artist" fighting "The Warrior". This is not just the case post 2005 till date. Every era of tennis has seen these kind of battles. I can name a few though. Jimmy Connors v/s John McEnroe, Boris Becker v/s Ivan Lendl, Pete Sampras v/s Jim Courier, Pete Sampras v/s Goran Ivanisevic, Pete Sampras v/s Andre Agassi, Steffi Graf v/s Martina Novratilova, Steffi Graf v/s Gabriela Sabatini, Steffi Graf v/s Monica Seles, Jana Novotna v/s Conchita Martinez ....and so on
Tennis is not just about stamina, power and physic. It is a beautiful sport. The elegance with which it is played is as important as the sustenance. Frankly, I dont like watching Nadal play. He is raw power and nothing more. So are the William sisters. I was having a chat about them with my brother the other day and I felt they have to be included in Men's Tennis instead of Women's. Trust me tennis cannot be elegance and style when played with both the hands being used for a back hand return. Tennis can never be of style if there are no chops and slices while being played. Tennis can never be beautiful if a game is not won just by playing on the base line.
The epitome of beauty in the game of the tennis since I ever started watching tennis inclusive of men and women is any day the erstwhile numero uno Stefan Edberg. He is called the "Swan in Motion". I advocate that it is most deserved by him. I've never ever seen him use a double handed back hand return for a winner. Never. His serves although not very powerful but still were the culmination of style. So were Edberg's shots and returns. For me, the world of tennis brings a sportsman whose work was exemplary and probably one of the best sportsman ever born inclusive of all the sports in the world from aeons. "Agility thy name Boris Becker". His ubiquitous presence on the court was truly mesmerizing. I would not be prudent enough not to mention the belief that "Nordic Race is the best ever created" as quoted by Adolf Hitler" if its Boris Becker, Steffi Graf, Michael Schumacher, Franz Beckenbaur etc are the kind of people who represent it. As far as i can go down the memory lane, It is Boris Becker who still holds the record for being the youngest champion at the most elite grandslam of the world of tennis, "The Wimbledon". As an aficionado of the sport myself I would like to recollect the great "Sir Arthur Ashe", the first coloured player to win the title at the Wimbledon. Those were still the days of racism and apartheid. Determination and guts took Sir Ashe a long way. The world of tennis and the world in itself has commomerated the respect he deserves by naming the stadium "Sir Arthur Ashe Stadium" at "Flushing Meadows", New York.
Tennis can also be a little funny. A couple of anecdotes bring a smile on even today. Steffi Graf at Wimbledon was asked by a stranger " Steffi, Will you marry me?" while she was all ready to serve. Steffi Graf stops in between and responds "How much money do you have?".
John McEnroe was playing Pete McEnroe in the semi finals of the U.S Open. Two sets down to nil in the favour of Pete. John shouts "Cmon, Pete Mom asked you to lose". We all know that probably Calvin grew up to be John McEnroe. He was probably the best left handed tennis player the world has seen, ofcourse not to mention Novratilova who was equally awesome. He infact won the U.S Open that year not just beating Pete but also Connors, i guess.
With the advent of probably what can be called as the new era in tennis, the style and elegance seemed to take a back seat. This era was called Power Tennis, i guess its called the same now as well. When for the first time we saw women like Monica Seles, Martina Hingis and so on started with the double handed returns more often than seldom. It turned even worse when men like Jim Courier, Andre Agassi started that too. But still tennis was Tennis. I wonder if any one remembers women like Billie-Jean King or Chris Evert from probably the forgotten time frame.
How many of us would remember one of the greatest ever tennis players who took incarnation in the world by the name Bjorn Borg? He was probably the Jim Morrison of tennis, who rose to fame quickly and faded off even quicker. He had won every single grandslam played during his time and faded off when was all of 26..... an appalling situation for the world of tennis. Oh ! i think tennis can keep me talking and keep me writing the entire day. There are so many players so many stars, so many performers, so many tabloid materials, so many style icons, so many bad boys, what not ..... doesnt the world of tennis have?

Did i ever mention that one of the most beautiful women in the late 80's and early 90's came from the world of tennis. Not that she was enormously talented but she was extra ordinarily beautiful . She is beautiful till date. She is Gabriela Sabatini

Tennis would definitely be one of those sports that would rule the world of sports till eternity

Game ..... Set.......n ......Match

Phaedrus

Thoughts.....................

................... Federer was down 3 sets to zero against Nadal at Roland Garros, the YogaNarasimha Swamy idol looked kind of different yesterday at the divine sanctum sanctorum, the water at Narsimha teertha was not as clean as usual, Croatia was one up against Austria at the Euro 2008,
how would it actually be if MLV sang Jagadodhdarana instead of MS? R is joining a new firm in the next week, the flowers looked wonderful in the reception that was hosted by N for his brothers wedding, Raikonen and Hamilton crashed in the pitlane after Hamilton drove into Raikonens car although there was a red light burning at the end of the pitlane. The Giles Villenvue Circuit at the Canadian granprix was almost an anticlimax, the reminiscence of the joy experienced by the self on thrusday while getting drenched in an abrupt rainfall during the journey back to the college...what a feeling that was, the lady who is in her late 40s or early50s who lives across the street where my office is situated who religiously sticks to her regime of playing shuttle badminton everyday, the freak accident that N met with just prior to his brother D's wedding, I did the right thing by keeping the menu simple and tasty for the reception in my brother V's wedding as compared to N's brother's, so much of wastage though, the ecstatic feeling of being elated upon being introduced to "The Kapil Dev" by boss on tuesday, just felt as if i met one of the gods, suddenly i move from being stationary and look at the signature of the God that I had procured on V's card, how foolish was I looking taking the God's autograph on a visiting card, The future of the self unknown, scary, the cashflow, the resposibilities, the wedding of N's brother took place in the same place as that of my cousin P's just a couple of weeks back, the mother divine of the self explaining how scanty the population at the marriage hall was since it was an intercaste marriage, the complications involved not just in life but also the rites and rituals that are to be followed, my future soul mate??or is it going to be soul less mate?, Adrian Sutil of Force India team's freak mechanical failure at the Giles Villenvue circuit, how unfortunate he was at Monaco when Raikonen crashed into him from rear, neither of them completing the race, How would it be to have a fusion of Ian Anderson of Jethro Tull with Pandit Hari Prasad Chaurasia, the character of Madakari Nayaka from Durgasthamana who has lived and relived the history, Conversation with R & A about the artist called Gundappa Vishwanath over a soft drink on saturday night, the examination that followed the day after, Ana Ivanovic the beautiful won the French womens final, the tabloids said Dinara Safina was noway match to Ivanovic, I felt Dinara gave Ana a run for her money, Petrol prices hit a high of $139, when would the hybrid cars and the fuel cell cars hit the market with copious extents of commercialisation, the thoughts of cycling to work as soon as the education is done with although sweating and stinking, the attempt to be a moral citizen to an extent of as much as possible by reducing the traffic and pollution, dilemma of picking up a four wheeler in 2009, the printer ink has to be got for home, J at the college reminding me of getting the cartridge refilled at a meager price, the same remainder by A at the office, N's suit at the wedding was damn good, may be the self should have worn a tie as well at V's wedding. Bjorn Borg, the erstwhile swan in motion in the world of Tennis was present at the finals of French open between Fedrer and Nadal, Nadal beat Fedrer hands down, The mysterious exit of Bjorn Borg at the age of 25 from the World of Tennis while he was at the hilt, the Father Divine's of the self's tantrums are back in action after a cess for a period of month and half after V's wedding, met M an old dear friend at the D's wedding on sunday with a woman???? astonished!!!! never thought of him to be that way, self's imagination of future and consequences seems crazy, Boss's advice before getting the appointment letter that the future soulmate or the soul less mate would look for big money and luxury in abundance, what happens to my passion and ambition, would they be compromised on, thoughts of how S and U two of whose blog the self follows religiously think? the conversation with Mr. TVS over the phone on saturday night, a very revered man himself appreciating the self's style of writing...............................

All the above were the thoughts that ran through the Central Processing Unit that the first floor entity has assembled in the self. It is absolutely not necessary that these thoughts are in order. The Self lay with eyed wide shut in an attempt to catch some sleep on Sunday night, alas ! never came the sleep, but the thoughts just flowed, it was more than three god damn hours and the self still laid with eyes wide shut but not a moment of sleep or some kind of drowsiness either. The self amidst of so many thoughts was perturbed with the disturbance over the last two days. The entity on the first floor has not gifted the self with the power of venting out frustrations. The self cant throw anger on co existing homo sapiens like how the self's Father Divine does or like how probably V does. This frustrates the self much more. Comes Dee's message on the cellphone while the self is neck deep in thoughts, we share the states that we were currently in then, a row of such messages go on, Dee says that i have to pen down these inane thoughts of mine. I refuse saying that it was not worth a pence. But here I am scripting the same thought. The dots in the paragraph above denote that there ware many turbulent thoughts that ran and kept running till i finally dozed off into the arms of a beautiful angel called the sleep. I write thee due to the idea that was brought up by Dee. Well seem a little hypocratic though after refusing to do what Dee asked me to and now doing the same. I wish to have a meaningful conversation with Dee sometime, which may sound inane to the world around.

Phaedrus