September 1, 2014 – September 7, 2014
Sometimes, it so happens that a week is completely vanished from memory, but there are also times, where a certain week though hasn’t deserted landscape of mind, but still you can’t really describe it. However, this time, I will put up a fight – of expression against in-expression and of language against ineffability. Language is strange being. It is a being. It has a structure. If nourished well, it has features of an ever growing body like that of an old redwood tree that continues to grow, or that of a banyan tree whose roots continue to explore the new avenues beneath the surface of mother earth. Out of the many languages of world, I can speak hardly a few. English, Punjabi and Hindi being my prime languages. I also know a smattering of Malay, Kashmiri, Bengali, Marathi and Kannada. At one time, I tried my hands at learning Italian. However, I discovered Italian hand gestures in mean time, and also the language’s too musical pronunciation didn’t suit my harsh, unsavoury and grating voice, therefore that pursuit was relaxed.
Last week, I started on a new journey in world of languages, on which I will attempt to learn the “Mother of Indo-European Tongue” – Sanskrit, through autodidacticism. I am not entirely new to Sanskrit. I have read it and appeared in examinations for Sanskrit until my secondary school days [Age 15]. However, like all others, in modern age, I too wasn’t insulated to the impractical methods of providing instructions on language. At 28, I am again taking up Sanskrit. I want to complete much of this journey in order to understand and appreciate Sanskrit literature from times of Rigveda to 21st century. Too ambitious? Yes. Can I do? Don’t know. Have I set “targets”? No. I want the learning phase to be of 2-3 years and under no pressure of learning soon and quickly. Rachnanuvad Kaumudi is the book that I am referring to, to begin with and lay foundation.
A few good hours of week were also spent in conversation with a friend. Well, we can talk for long, and on range of subjects, whatever comes to mind. A more major portion of the week went into reading Frankenstein. The story is strongly allegorical, at times losing allegory altogether to make us sympathise with the hero. Who is the hero of the story? I couldn’t find. The answer lies in grey cells. The story sits at odds with my now long standing absence of belief. On advice from a friend, I have decided to consider Frankenstein as my first attempt towards reviewing a book.
Work was quite fast paced. One invention took most of my time. It was touted as a solution to ALL energy problems of the world by an inventor. Initially, in my career, I used to be genuinely glad for anyone making such a claim for their invention(s). It was soon that I realised that ALL inventors make this claim for their inventions. To all parents, their children are embodiment of the divine itself. This is ironical because divine itself doesn’t exist. I am now well trained to face tall claims, be they of inventions or that of love. I want claims of both to reduce to praxis for me to genuinely appreciate them. This is not entirely impossible. In my career, a few seemingly simple inventions have won my heart and mind, and overwhelmed me with their simplicity of design and the magic they caste in solving a problem that no problem in world seem difficult. I wish love could be so- having simplicity of design and casting a magic that the world itself vanishes as a problem. I could explore this strange relationship more but I will leave it for some other day. I can draw many comic similarities between the two as well.
So long, Week 12!