aditya kumar's weblog

In my graduation days, I listened to the audio tape of “Mtv Unplugged: Bryan Adams” so much that it finally broke down and I had to buy a new one.

I also once owned the URL www.summerof69.net. I spent a lot of time and efforts to make a website dedicated to the singer :)

So, when I was told that the Canadian was touring India, and Bangalore to be specific, I thought, wow.

Oh, the pleasures of living in this city. Last year, Sting and now Bryan Adams.

I am going for the concert in the evening :)

This, below, in 2001, one of my dedications to the rock star. 0.5mm 2B on Plain Paper :)

Uma’s post has won the first prize for the the “Can Conquer Cancer” Initiative. My post and Dave’s writeup here, won the second prize (it was a tie :) The results can be seen here.

I wish to thank the people involved in this initiative. It has been an effort, full of positivity. And, as I have said before, to conquer this disease, being positive is half the battle won.

As you may have noticed, with the results announced, I am in such fine company. I am honored, and I don’t know what more to say. It was a surprise, my name there!

Thank you, everyone.

My New Year was no celebration at all, I was browsing the internet on my computer at home. But yes, music is an important aspect of anything that I do on days like these, so I played U2’s “The Unforgettable Fire” and “New Year’s Day”. I needed Bono’s reassuring, full-of-hope voice.

Bono’s like an old friend to me now. So even if he sings a sad song, I manage to pull out some hope everytime I hear him.

We all have our problems, small and big. It has been a tough year for the World as well. The Tsunami aftereffects, The London bombings, the Delhi bombings, the Kashmir Earthquake, to name a few. People have lost, people have grieved. For me, there has been a personal loss as well.

The New Year is hope for all of us. It’s that time when we have the opportunity to start over, to wipe the slate clean and to give everything a fresh start. I hope that it turns out to be a year that is good and full of hope for all of you, the readers of this blog whom I know, and those who choose not to comment and decide against letting their presence felt.

It would be naive to believe that problems shall go away. They will persist, like always. Here, I wish that the “fine balance” is achieved. Its something that is explained below in the post, so please continue reading.

Meanwhile, A Very Happy New Year.

On a lighter note, the Truman Specials for this year. In no particular order.

1. The Best Album Truman listened to

Without doubt, U2’s “How to Dismantle an Atomic Bomb”. It grows on you, and finally gets you! What an album this!

2. Errr.. The Best (Non-U2) Artist/Album Truman listened to

I feel it has to be Coldplay’s X&Y. Oasis comes a close second with “Standing on the shoulder of Giants”. Figures say a little different story though. In the second half of the year, I listened to 285 songs of Oasis and 197 songs of Coldplay. (U2’s count for the second half of the year? 694 songs)

3. Best Hindi movie Truman watched full screen

Iqbal. But do I have a choice? Hardly good movies released this year! (I liked “Sehar” too)

4. Best Hollywood movie Truman watched full screen

Cinderella Man. No doubt. But Harry Potter comes a close second. “Finding Neverland” comes third.

5. “If-only-I-could-see” movie for this year

Anniyan. I wish to see this movie. But I can’t understand Tamil. I wish I could!

6. Cricketing action of the year

The Ashes, what else? But then again, the England-Pakistan series was such a downer.

7. Arrogant Cricketer of the year

Andre Nel of South Africa. Click on the link to see his face and you shall know who we are dealing with.

8. Best place Truman visited this year

Home :)

heh, actually, Kasauli. And I intend to visit it again. A close second comes, Karwar

9. Last but not the least, The Best Indian Author book Truman read this year

Difficult. Very, very difficult. Hmmm.. I would say “A fine balance” by Rohinton Mistry.

This is the “Fine Balance” line I was talking about, something that applies to all of us: “You cannot draw lines and compartments, and refuse to budge beyond them. Sometimes you have to use your failures as stepping-stones to success. You have to maintain a fine balance between hope and despair…In the end, it’s all a question of balance Pg 231, ‘A Fine Balance’ “.

Dr. Amitav Ghosh’s “The Glass Palace” comes very close. These books are very moving, in their own ways. Essentials of Indian Literature, these.

But the common factor in these books, is this feeling that overwhelms you, that is reflected in the words below:

‘Holding this book in your hand, sinking back in your soft arm-chair, you will say to yourself: perhaps it will amuse me. And after you have read this story of the great misfortunes, you will no doubt dine well, blaming the author for your own insensitivity, accusing him of wild exaggeration and flights of fancy. But rest assured: this tragedy is not a fiction. All is true.’

— Honoré de Balzac, Le Pere Goriot

The best thing for me, at a personal level, has been the literature I have read. The treasure is endless and it is priceless. The year gone by, has been the year of the Indian Authors. And no, I am not just talking about the Authors who write books. Just as important, are the Writers who exist in Blogosphere. I want to thank you, to each one of them, for Writing. Writing for a cause, Writing when provoked, Writing to Inspire and more importantly, Writing with responsibility. They know who they are.

Thats it for now, signing off!

So when I asked him, the director of Bluffmaster, on the chat at rediff, exactly why did he work in a coffee shop in New York, I expected a better answer. Something like, maybe he wanted to see how it feels to work in a coffee shop in NY, to meet new people or to have a feel of the city probably because the city has inspired him all his life (Typical Bollywood).

The answer was, well, he just wanted to earn some money. How boring.

And before I could tell him that my friends did not like his movie, he was gone.

But since I have not seen the movie as yet, I shall not (try to) be prejudiced. I am optimistic about the movie for many reasons, one of them is this.

Mine is the second last question, here.

When I suggested my father, to get the sonography done because his stomach problem had dragged too long, I only echoed the words of my mother who had repeatedly asked him to do so. I had come to Goa, my home, during the vacations from Indore, where I had been studying for my BCA.

By the time sonography happened, I was back in Indore, studying for my exams.

In the brief long distance calls, I was unable to realise that something was wrong. Long distance calls were costly, the cellphone, still a toy of the rich, so it was usually my side of the story that made it through. How convenient it was, for me, to assume that everything was fine. Always had been fine, will be fine.

When maa told that Father was to be shifted to New Delhi, I thought something was serious. I was told there was an infection in his stomach, a “little” surgery had to be done. My sister was to be in Delhi, skipping her school.

In the conversations that followed, maa began to use the word “tumor” instead of “infection”.

Then one night, during a call, I asked Maa.

“Maa, is it cancer?”

The silence, followed by a reply that was bound by cluttered words formed by an unprepared mind, unfolded exactly what I had not been told all this while.

I paused.

I was instructed not to go there. Only after the exams, was I allowed to visit Delhi. Anything other than this, and I would end up adding to the despair my mother had been facing.

Two operations followed. Father had responded well after the second operation. His left hand was swollen with the IVs they had attached to him. There was no more space for thin, mean needles to go in, but it was okay with him.

It was all a matter of will power, he said.

Maa stayed 20 days (and nights) at the hospital, most of the times, sleeping on the bedsheet with a thin foam, on the floor. Not once did she complain. People asked her to let me skip college that year. Everyone expected my sister to repeat her tenth grade school the next year.

When I reached Delhi after my exams, I thought I would be staying with Maa, till the time Father was relieved. Instead, I was summoned to take my sister to Goa and was to stay with her as long as I could. No one was to skip an academic year, were Maa’s orders.

Apart from the support my father got from the family, it was the positive attitude that worked for him. And yes, Will power. The willingness to see through something like this, is half the battle won.

Today Father has fully recovered from Colon Cancer, all that remains is a scar on the stomach. But with that, he chooses to be reminded of his courage that made him look forward to life.

To arrive at this town, which has inspired writers like Kushwant Singh and Salman Rushdie, without a book, would almost be a sin, hence not only did I carry a Mistry book with me throughout, I was also able to take time out, reading the book whenever I could, in breaks, while sunshine sprayed on the hills.



The days are cold, the nights chilly. Wind blows on the hills from the west but they could be mistaken to be coming from anywhere, for this chill brings the senses to a halt.

This town, if it qualifies to be a called a town that is, is just what I had thought it to be. Calm, serene, at peace. People drop by the city, en route to Shimla, maybe just to fulfill a formality of visiting the place, so they could have a “been there, done that” written against Kasauli’s name in a certain diary. The “Glitter, Glamour” has all been stolen by Shimla, 60 Kms away, and that is precisely the reason why I chose to come here.

To be here, is to come home to solitude. Kasauli lets you be alone. It lets you sip a cup of Tea, alone on the pavement made of heavy stones, shining and polished by frequent walkers, as people go by their work. No one comes to you, asking you to look at the winter collection of clothes, no taxiwalla comes to you trying to allure you in one of those sight seeing rides. You are left alone.

But do not mistake this for unfriendliness on the part of the residents of this small town. Talk once, and they will open their world to you.

While the world has moved to multiplexes and malls, Kasauli has chosen to stay back. But not surprisingly, intrusions by a modern world are impending. Glimpses of it were evident as I saw Nokia Phones and Prepaid sim cards being sold inside small toy shops. And clearly, this town is not a fan of movies or it’s stars as I find no evidence or traces left by any bollywood release — no posters, no boards. In a small chamber that exists within one of the few narrow paths that constitute the demography of Kasauli, children play cricket, while behind the batsman is a hand pump, it’s cement cuboid base, serving the players as a makeshift wicket. The ball touching the other end of the wall, is of course, a boundary scored. Passer-by’s like me, act as the wicket keeper.

Evening comes and I return back to the Army Holiday Home, my “base camp”. On the edge, down below, I see the bed of mountains. Northwest of my view, I see Shimla slowly coming to lights and up above I see the even slower formation of a starry night taking over the reins from the Sun. The Sun that has hovered around these mountains of The Shivaliks, the lower range of the Himalayas, is now going down in a way as if choosing a mountain to find it’s abode in. It finally dims down, the mist and fog, giving it cover as it goes to the hiding. Orion is now clearly visible over my head. The wind blows harder, convincing me to go inside the warm indoors. Daisy, the German Shepherd, follows me to my room and stands at the door as if waiting for me to carry out a promise. I am reminded of the Breakfast I had shared with her in the morning. I realise we probably have a silent, mutual understanding. For dinner, I give her three slices of bread, the best I could offer. She walks away and I go inside, turn on the heater.

And this time, I am going up, north, to the hills. Almost 2700 Kms from here, one way, on rail. Will write more.

And, I have just posted 2 new entries, below.