While reading the various parvas (meaning books; there are 18 in total) in Mahabharata, you’ll experience a staggering amount of details that went into each episode, and how nicely the ends are tied up. To understand why certain warriors are killed in a certain manner—Duryodhana pointed at his thigh, suggesting Draupadi to sit there during her disrobing; Bheema kills him by destroying that very thigh—along with the causations of so many curses placed throughout the epic. Not one curse goes bland, and neither do the boons. The whole story is a tight ship held together by human reasoning and divine interventions. We are easily amazed by Harry Potter, LOTR and GoT—and we should be, because without the flight of imagination bestowed upon us by literature, our species is quite literally robotic—but when you read the sheer epicness of Mahabharata, its generational intrigues and whatnot, the intellectual capacity of every character that speaks (without interruption), you are bound to wonder: is it humanly possible to replicate another masterpiece like this? I don’t think so.
When Kunti informs Yudhishthira about his (hidden) relationship with Karna, he is beyond distraught. Being the elder brother, Karna was the heir apparent to the throne although he fought for the opposite team. The long dialogue that takes place is filled with so much pathos that you feel bad for Yudhishthira. In his head, he has played a part in the killing of his own brother in the name of Dharma. But what really struck me is how he responds to Kunti by saying that he finally understood why Karna’s feet always reminded him of hers. After all, he was used to bowing to touch his mother’s feet and Karna’s feet resembled Kunti’s. Such minute attention to detail is what makes Mahabharata such a captivating saga.
It’s natural to have a favourite character in a story and if you ask around, you might find that some have Krishna as their favourite while others have Arjuna and Karna and perhaps, Bheeshma, too. The one I admire the most in Mahabharata has to be Yudhishthira. His name itself is a solid reason to be in awe of him: the one who remains balanced in a battle. Here is a man who tries his level best to stay righteous and equanimous all his life and fails spectacularly on more than one ocassion. But he is also a person who is open to transformation. After going into exile, there are long conversations between him and his brothers and their wife, on diverse subjects pertaining to life: responsibility, virtue, rage, dilemma, etc. And in almost every such debate, he sounds like the one who is on the right side of history/mythology. His moral compass refuses to budge. That said, he is also the same man who accepts his reality that he has to take up arms against injustice. He corrected his mindset, unlike Arjuna, who had to be mentored by the God (Krishna) himself right in the middle of the battleground.
In popular culture, there is hardly any talk about penis. Given the vacuum in place, porn (and its inflated reality) took over the space meant for healthy discourse. As a result, there has been no major novel or movie written about the most common masculine concern of all time: size complex. This is quite a paradox when you consider the special relationship a man shares with his penis. The level of attachment—no pun intended—here can’t be described in vocabulary. Perhaps, that explains why there are no poems or songs or scripts highlighting the sheer pressure of performance for a man.
As you grow older, you become acutely aware of your strengths, but more importantly, you come to terms with your weaknesses. Your resistance to rubbish increases and as is often the case, your circle decreases. More and more folks in your life filter out, leaving you with a precious few to ration your time and energy. Turns out time and energy are not the same. Just because you have the time doesn’t mean you have the energy, and vice versa. One of the greatest pieces of wisdom is learning the difference between the two. You might (hopefully) reach a stage where you don’t pick up someone’s call because you don’t have to deal with that person’s energy. Time would be the least of your concern.
A good movie remains with you for a few hours. You talk about it, and then go to sleep and then wake up and brush your teeth and scrub your tongue, and by then, that movie has already weaned off. It didn’t even bother to show up in your dreams. A great movie, on the other hand, sticks to you like a long lost friend you went to kindergarten with. It will trouble you (for attention) for a couple of days, at least, if not more. Tár (2022) falls in this category for me. In terms of performance, Cate Blanchett is at her supreme but what’s more captivating is her character’s mystique. She is a genius who is most probably a horrible person and is bound to pay a price for the misdeeds of her past. Yet, when she tumbles spectacularly, you feel miserable for her.
It’s damn hot in Mangalore right now. Temperature hovers around 34 degrees but what kills is the humidity (close to 65% on average). In fact, my resolve to live has evaporated in this weather. There is hardly any breeze and sometimes, the clouds gather for a smoke break, leading to massive speculations about imminent rain, before dispersing like a mob flash. It’s almost scandalous. Anyhow, this is what I’ve learned on my own: internal matters as much as external. You’ve got to wear clothes according to the demands of your environment. External sorted. Now, you’ve got to take care of your internal too, by ingesting appropriate food items. More buttermilk, curd, yoghurt, succulents, etc. Less spicy stuff.
Although tobacco disgusts me, I’ve found something very intriguing about smokers. Have you observed a person taking a drag? Well, the moment he successfully steals for himself is incredible. When he sucks in those cancerous particles, he is one with time and space. His eyes are intense but his countenance, relaxed. One drag leads to another and so on, till he reaches the butt end of his break. Sometimes, it feels like smoking is the closest some people will ever get to mindfulness. That said, I can’t stand those who enjoy cigarettes and then give lectures on air pollution and littering.
Last month, while traveling by train, a boy called me by my name. I was caught off guard, only to realize soon enough that he was reading the word on my neck (Shakti in Nastaliq script). This had happened before in Mumbai local train, about a decade ago. When your tattoos don’t mean anything, others try to find meaning in them. When your tattoos are just words, there are no layers to unfold. People read it out. Therein lies the distinction between language and silence. A design can mean a lot of things on your skin. There are stories behind them. Just like scars on your body. But interestingly enough, people shall remain more interested in your tattoos than your scars.
After being obesssed with chess for four successive winters (2017-20), I quit after a string of embarassing losses. This month, I crept back to the board and have been making a lot of errors, as expected. But, I also won a game that I am kind of proud of. It started poorly for me (with dark pieces), with my king being toyed around.
Somehow, I stayed on course and refused to resign. After 74 moves, this happened.
So, what is the life lesson you learn from this unexpected victory? Not much.
You aren’t always going to win. However, every once in a while, you will come dangerously close to giving up. At that point, just tell yourself “not yet” until you are ready to let go. When you lose at your own pace, you are better prepared for the next battle. Because, just like chess, there is no real resignation in life.
What piece of literature did you read on Mahabharata before penning down this blog? I want to know because I haven't read that kunti n karna having feet resemblance anywhere before
I sent that smoking part to my friend who smokes and he felt so understood reading it. Also, would really like to play chess with you some time. What's your chess.com id?