gyatso

It is not often that I sit enraptured, hanging onto every gesture made and every word spoken, and in complete awe of a speaker. Today proved to be one of those exceptional days. Today, I met the Common Man.

We - the audience - did not know what to expect when we sat waiting in anticipation to meet R.K. Laxman. When the great man was brought into the room - a room already bursting at its seams - it struck me how much he actually resembled the icon that he has sketched for over four decades. A smarter hairstyle and a pair of trousers to replace the dhoti were all that gave the man away. However, there was one crucial difference - Dr. Laxman had a lot more to say than his stolid character ever did.

For the next forty five minutes, Dr. Laxman volleyed back answers to all of the audience's queries, both well-intentioned and downright batty. It soon became clear that his pencil-sharp wit, that has been the basis of his success as a cartoonist, has remained untouched by age. Sprinkled with anecdotes, the interaction proved to be a delight for all involved, judging by the thunderous applause that Dr. Laxman received on numerous occasions. Personally, it was a humbling experience to listen to the story of his journey, from his childhood scrawls to his political caricatures.

Time flew by and it was soon time to end the session. Little did we know that he had saved his best anecdote for the encore! He referred to a meeting that he once had with Mr. Rajiv Gandhi during a book release function a long time ago: Mr. Gandhi kept replying to Dr. Laxman’s pleas for better roads and the like, with the statesman-esque answer, “I will look into the matter.” When the time for goodbyes came, Mr. Gandhi complained that he was being depicted fatter than he actually was in the “You said it” cartoons. To this, Dr. Laxman replied, “I will look into the matter,” with his tongue-firmly-in-cheek.

Sitting in a wheelchair and troubled by ailments, Dr. Laxman has sadly reached the encore of his life as well. I have had the privilege to meet him today, an opportunity that I may never have again. He claims not to have set out to change the world with his work. His intentions notwithstanding, the Common Man has changed our lives in his own little way every morning; Dr. Laxman has indeed created an icon that will outlast us all.

What has been the most important pre-occupation of your life so far?

It is 2-30 pm on a Tuesday afternoon. China’s fixed exchange rate is the topic of day, but somehow the gravity of the discussion does not seem to ignite a slumbering mind. It chooses to migrate to greener pastures as spectacular images from the National Geographic and the Discovery Channel of a place farther away from China flash past my droopy eyes. How I wish real travel were this simple?

My first memories of travel are of the annual excursions from my home in Bangalore to my maternal grandmother’s house in Bombay – yes, I still like to call it that. The vacations, always coinciding with the burning hot summers of India, were the highlights of those years, otherwise characterized by school and its burdens. Like any other unencumbered young man, I dreamed of travelling far and wide. However, unlike many others, I strongly believed that I would live this dream when I was all “grown up”.

Constrained by resources initially, I had to wait to reach a state of financial wellbeing, which was a couple of years into my career before I could start chasing what I had always wanted to. Two friends and I, who had never breached the boundary north of Bombay, decided to travel and experience the northern part of the country. Armed with bad Hindi accents and shiny new backpacks we set off on our month long journey. We asked to experience India and that is exactly what we got. How can I ever forget the highs and lows of those times – from the peacefulness of the Himalayas to the nastiness of Delhi, from walking the calmness of the Thar to riding the rapids of the Ganges?

I have since followed up this journey with solo excursions to Sikkim, Himachal Pradesh and Punjab. My job also gave me an excuse to leave the Indian shores for the first time and travel to the US for a month and a bit. Dreams of further travel remain a large part of my daily life. I also always seem to be planning my next trip even before I have to. Whether life will lend itself to more opportunities only time will tell, but only a willing mind leads to positive action. Travel has been the most important pre-occupation in life so far, consuming the largest mindshare, and I do not expect this to change in the future. The word pre-occupation surely precedes the word occupation for a good reason.

"Morality is the herd-instinct in the individual." - Friedrich Nietzsche

Morality is the easy way out; a framework of comfort and the source of all our biases. Stemming from our roots, morals govern our actions all the time. When these morals are coerced into changing, our actions follow suit. These are the thoughts that ran through my mind as I sat watching the stirring final scenes of Ladri di biciclette (English Title: Bicycle Thieves).

In this 1948 movie, set in post-war Italy, we follow the tribulations of Antonio Ricci, an unemployed worker who finds a job sticking posters around Rome. His only precious possession, a bicycle, has been purchased at the cost of his wife pawning their bedroom sheets. As cruel fate would have it, the bicycle is stolen on the first day of the job. With his son by his side, Antonio's desperate search for the bicycle through the streets of Rome is the core element of this movie. Along the way, we see the real Rome - the Rome with its impoverished workers, community churches and prostitutes. Even amidst the darkness of the situation, we see the will to live as witnessed by the scene where Antonio treats his son to wine and food.

The movie is moving to say the least and the director's use of real people and not real actors adds a touch of realism. The long camera shots following Antonio are beautifully shot. Not withstanding my bias for black and white pictures and movies, I highly recommend this classic movie.