MUMBAI LOCALS AND CHAOS THEORY

I remember coming across the concept of Chaos Theory in ‘Jurassic Park: The Lost World’. I was just finishing my Eleventh standard, a juncture I remember quite vividly as it was then that I developed a platonic interest in Mathematics (Platonic for surely so…I don’t want to elucidate on that). I might be roiling miserably under the incomprehensible burden of Permutation and Combination and integral calculus, but my mind, it seemed, was oriented for something higher. I was fascinated with advanced mathematical concepts such as this. And who better to clear my fog-shrouded mind with knowledge on this matter than Pinakida. I still remember, when I went to him, he placidly showed me a traffic that was furling into a jam and then unfurling in some unbelievable way, without colliding with each other. He told me that’s chaos theory-‘a sensitive dynamical system which manifests itself as an exponential growth of perturbations in the initial conditions, making the behaviour to appear random’. In other words, there’s a natual semblance in a chaotic process. I stay in Mumbai. For every ordinary Mumbaikar, the local train is the lifeline. People travel long distances, and somehow manage to reach destinations in time simply because of मुंबई उपनगरीय रेल्. Now, if you look at a regular station on one fine morning, you’ll see platforms cramped with people as all of them prepare to take the train. From a distance you’ll find three rows along the length of the platform, a gap in between, and then another two rows. The lacuna’s because they are thoughtful enough to keep a space for new entrees to walk through without bumping into someone. When you’ll place yourself in close proximity with the crowd, trying to go through the process yourself, you’ll suddenly witness a peculiar phenomenon. From the time of the building-up of the crowd till the moment the train reaches the platform, you’ll find a congenial crowd happily interacting with each other, like companions. But the moment the train enters, there is a noticeable change in their behavioural pattern. The genial crowd suddenly turns hostile, with each person vying with the other to enter the bogey first so that they can seize a seat before anyone else. And all hell break loose (an apparent realization in the first instance) when the train slows down. Those a little more able than others, jump into the bogies. The rest of the crowd narrows down like the tapering edge of a funnel to enter through the door, and running along with the moving bogey at the same time. When the train comes to a halt, the rout gives way to four-five frenzied people at a time who get stuck on the threshold, tug their bodies to release from the clutch of the pack, and then run for seats. When the initial frenzy is over, you’ll find the last two rows jumping on to the train to find a suitable place to stand. When this process is done with, a few lurking foxes would leap onto the foothold of the doorway at the last instance and hang somewhat precariously while the train resumes its journey towards Churchgate. Now, the purpose of this description is to bring forth the strain of verisimilitude in it. For you’ll see that throughout this entire chaotic process, not one soul being taken to the grave for slipping underneath the tracks, or some hanging bloke getting smacked to a post. And, most importantly, when the train deserts the platform, if you look back, you’ll see nothing more than two or three urchins sitting in a far corner, and a few stray dogs sniffing around.

MUSIC WITHOUT LYRIC

She mourns like an elegy of a drizzle
Her cry echoing a requiem of a broken dream
She doesn’t remember when she last laughed
She forgot how to scream

Her silhouette fades in sunlight
Life’s a hazy shade of winter
When she looks down for a patch of snow
She sees herself,
Broken in ripples
Sinking in cold, grey water

...

A moment of absolute vagueness. There’s simply no feeling whatsoever. Boredom, irritation, fatigue, distress, strain, disturbance, pain, misery, anxiety, helplessness, snit, bliss, ecstasy…nothing.
It’s pouring since midnight, and almost halfway through the day, there’s no sign of stopping. It’s monotonous and quite a nag. I decidedly didn’t carry the lower apparel of my rain suit. Presumably because I didn’t see it coming. Though now, to think of it, there was no way I could’ve not seen it coming. It’s a fifteen-minute walk from Lower Parel station to my office, which is at the end of the mill compound. So it goes without saying that when I reached my jeans was soaking. My strapless sandal got wet and the soles started slipping beneath my feet. I somehow managed to save my phone by putting it inside my underwear. Since then till now it has been almost 2 hours and I’m still sitting in my wet jeans. Not a very comforting situation, but I’ve no other option.
We were suppose to have a meeting today to chart out plans for the Budget day. When I came in there were only three people who were working on the weekend shows. After two hours now, I get to hear the meeting has been postponed to three. Somehow I was not aware of it. I’m not pissed.
I’ve a fire in my belly right now. Don’t let your imagination take a high-beta route. It only means I’m hungry. But being a Saturday, there’s no food in the canteen. I’m not miserable.
Currently, there’s no thought in my mind as well. When I’m breaking away from the flow of writing this blog, I’m blankly staring at the glass wall that curves the outside of the studio. Neel, our switcher in the PCR just passed by and said, “kyu bhai, itna sannate mein kyu hai?”. It took me sometime to realize it was for me, a little more to understand what it meant. It’s not fully because my mind is blank, but also because I’m terribly handicapped when it comes to our national language.
I don’t even know why I’m writing this. Probably because I want to kill time. The thoughts I’m scribbling are also coming to me intermittently, in the form of floating threads with no knots tying them together in one simplex harmony.
I remember, a few days back, a good friend told me that he was almost approaching sainthood and in fact, to establish the feeling, he had an ‘out-of-body’ experience. I’m trying to figure out how can I not be feeling anything. Isn’t the mind being possessed by ‘no thought’ or ‘no feeling’ the state one can call an out-of-body state? On second thought, not really. I guess your soul suspend above all feelings when you simply ‘GIVE UP.’