Rahn Hert

Tread softly on
History sleeps
Under the grains
Under your feet

Gee.. that was something!!

A few days back, the G20 Summit was held in the city. And as a nominal duty of all the mildly recalescent blood of this generation, a call for protest was posted all across the walls of Melbourne. I hear this is a tradition with the host of the summit. So, the busy streets were flooded with thousands of protestors err.. protesting against the economic leaders of the world. What is it with impoverished young people and the capitalists of this world, you ask.. huh?
For any one on those streets that Saturday afternoon.. it painted a relatively "contradistinctive" image for a protest (in the conventional sense, of course). There were parades featuring long banner yielding groups, face painted enthusiasts entertaining the crowds, teenagers with an overwhelming urge to wear black, punksters with placards which ranged from non-descriptive to hilarious, old men walking along side the not-so-old, flashing smiles and sharing an anecdote or two.. It was an atmosphere, where I - for the first time, in probably awhile - have seen a common man walk towards a protesting mob, rather than away from it. It was almost heartening.

You could find some of the images here.


These however are by no means, any description of the color exhibited that day. The reason, I would like to point this out, is coz later that evening.. there were a few incidents reported (and well covered by the local/national media, with images of indiscipline by some protesting groups). I understand it was not necessary.. for what was a very impressive exhibition of protest till
that moment..has now been painted ugly and violent. And a bit of zealous stupidity should not undermine the relatively refreshing move shown by a majority.

For what shall be reported as a "day of shame" by the Australian press, could well be a day when a few hundreds would have believed in the bent of remonstration, again. For a moment, in the least.

Hmm.

Now, we have Aboriginal rock..

Aboriginal stuff is pretty big here, in a trans-cultural sorta way. It is almost like the Indian Gods in the Yoga instructors' living rooms - very kitsch.

A lotta people have a sense of intrigue in their words while discussing such sorts. Constant analogies with the native American tribes and Kalahari bushmen (??) keep popping up midst leisurely dinner conversations.

Aborginal Australians are the indigeneous lot of people who typically find the world today a stranger place to live in. The stories and tales related to them are fascinating is most aspects. Reportedly, they call the beginning of the world "Dreaming" (in an almost Gaiman-esque way, eh?) and have a strong sense of spirituality about them. These tales are often sung out in hymns.. while dancing around rock paintings, carvings et al. People playing windpipes called Didgeridoo (as being demostrated by a non-Aborigine below) make up the low humming vibrations as the sun fades away in the background. Think Indiana Jones, misunderstood tribes and lots of land issues.

I apologize for the lack of pathos in the description, which is not a prescription, I feel. If interested, one could read the Wiki links for more insight into the other side of Australia.

Takes on planes - Uncut version

Philadelphia, Nov 8 2006, 3:15 pm.

I have a strong sense of disapproval for air travel. I think it is fastidious and pretentious. And robs a person of any much freedom or frolic. One has to queue up everywhere like mute cattle being lead by neat shepards wearing their ties backwards, sit in closed enclosures, be tied down to the seats, eat the packed food served.. you get the idea. Roads are always better, at least there would be bushes around.. hmm? Nevermind.. so I thought I would try to stir the boring journey a bit.. add a bit of drama and nerve to the otherwise mundane proceedings. So.. a good start would be to miss the very first of the series and cause the thereby ripple effect. Waddya know!! Rainy afternoons and a 40 lb suitcase that moved around in circles led me to this very moment, when the baggage lady quipped, "Sorry we are closed, you missed your flight!". Oh, jump for joy and kick out at the clouds yelling "Marie Louise Parker, you sweet little thing!!" (Random expression.. has no significance). The connecting flight would be missed as well. SO, the itinerary can hit the trash can.

So, sitting here.. in Philly (still) - airport, I write.. I think I ll evetually call this post "Of why prof's should never plan to send a nimcompoop across the ocean with national grants". Oh btw.. Rumsfeld resigned today. But I think the Democrats would go down, nevertheless. :p


Somewhere in the Central American skies, 8 Nov 2006, 6:36 pm

I think people blog sometimes, when they have no one to speak to. I mean, I look to the left and see this elderly gentleman with some wizard and the dragon book. The lady next to him is reading a dog book, called Marley and I. The guy across the aisle.. he is reading Hutton's.. errm, wait.. why am I not reading anything? well.. the only book I have has "Materials.. Characterisation" on the cover, um.. no thanks. Or I could.. finish my mid term now, but that would only mean, I would have nothing to do after that. And.. you -always- should have something to do for later, eventually.. when the time comes.. the deadline, ammeen. Anyway.. I ll get back to you later, they are showing "You, Me and Dupree". Ciao.


San Francisco, Nov 8 2006, 11:54 pm.

Hello again. I tried publishing the previous two episodes but the wireless is really weak here. So, may be this blog ll never come into the public eye. May be. Anyway, apparently I did miss my connecting flight, so am catching another one to Sydney, instead of Auckland. Btw.. I just got out of the security check, and realized that a tremendous sense of redemption pecks you when you come out of the "special chambers" for secondaries (non-residents) which gush out smoke and sorts, and then the security offciers "thoroughly" check your hand baggage.. and find out that you are actually clean. You are a good man. You are worthy of travelling across the borders. I love such moments. It is almost as if the Lord has spoken to you ackowledging your sinless virtues.

In the middle of the Pacific, No idea.

In a rather desparate mood or ineptitude for sleep, I write in an eerie hour of significant blankness. Everyone is sleeping.. no, wait that lady across.. I think she is just pretending. Lemme check. *Throws peanut at her* Yea, she's just pretending. Okay.. there is something called the Int'l timeline they keep showing on the monitor here. I think it the line which demarkates the day/night thing across the ocean. As a kid I always wondered why they had North America on the left, and Russia on the right (youknow.. even though you 'd find more Leftists in Mother Russia). Well.. now, I know!! It took him 22 years and 34000 feet to find erm.. Anyway, am crossing the line.. just.. about.. NOW!! So, its 0000hrs, Nov 10, 2006 now. I have now, officially lost a day in my life. That was easy.. I did not even have to live through this one.

These guys really want us to watch this "American gun" movie.. this is the second time in 14 hrs, that they are shoving it again. I am not watching. Nope. No movies. The long nailed, blue eyed, i-pod savvy blonde neighbour of mine wants to talk about telly series.. if only the google worked up here.

Few hours later. Still above the Pacific.

Seriously, the google man.. why does nt it work here?? I ve been through all the songs on my playlist.. twice already; It also helps if you have only nine songs on it. I can now recite everyword Rammstein sang.. in German!! Eins, zwei, drei, vier, funph, sechs, sieben, acht, neun, au!! (Yea?)

Somewhere near the Tasman sea, Inconsequential (time).

That's it!! No more coach seats for me!!

Sydney, Nov 10, 2006.

Ah.. finally a window seat!! As kids, my sister would crib so much for my window seat, (she would also think every flight attendant was handsome, random trivia..) no wonder kids want to grow up to be pilots!! Now, I know more.. this trip is enlightening in so many ways.

***

This country is beautiful. I mean.. really. And I could swear I saw the SCG. They have bloody a dozen cricket stadia here.. it's hard to know, which one is what. But damn.. the place is remarkable.

And I have seen New York.