But that was then and this is the zen Now.
And there is so damn much to be aware of in India's now. And it's not as though that that Now has acres and acres of empty in which to spread out into its component parts. One third the land space and three times the population means that those components of the Now, (the awareness of which the Zen masters tell me, are necessary for the growth of my being), tend to jostle each other for parking space in my consciousness. To make matters considerably more distracting, there is nothing particularly quiet about any of that jostling for space.
Which brings me to my point for the day (unless something else occurs to me, of course),namely, India today, Today, is a noisy place. Okay perhaps that is a bit of a blanket, that averment. Perhaps it would be more accurate to say that the South India that i live in is a noisy place. And i think that has to do with shape of the sub-continent.
That one third the land space of the USA? Well, most of it is in the north. Up there, at the base of the Himalayas, where India is at its, -it just occurred to me that Indians refer to their country with the feminine pronoun, and i should too, (which makes implications in the rest of the sentence that i disavow), - where India is at her broadest. And it could be that up there in the more (relatively) open spaces, there are silences to which i am not privy, but, down here, where India tapers to a quite fine point, the three times the population of the USA and the concomitant sounds thereof comes into play. Incessantly. At all the sound frequencies. Natural and man-made. Melodic and not so melodic. South India makes noise. Which goes to explain why body language and gestures are so much a part of India's conversations.
You'd be justified in wondering what any of this has to do with the Now of India. In fact i'm wondering a bit, myself. But what the hell, this is a diary, right? And i can ramble if i want to. Although, i must say, that the inability to stay focused can be considered part and parcel of living in noisy surroundings. No, seriously, I am trying to find the music in the bangs, clangs, buzzes, and bellowings coming from the metal fabrication plants that flank my ground floor apartment which is tucked in behind my landlord's general store, all of which is situated within a residential area, a zoned residential area. I am trying to find the underlying rhythms to the sounds of the city pounding in my brain (thank you Mitch Ryder). But I am not succeeding. And these disjointed sentences bear cacophonous testimony to that.
No. Wait. Buddha paid his dues here. And as far as i can tell, Buddha was all about the Now and its infinity. And i'm betting that he did that in the soundscape of his BC version of metal fabrication plants.
So?
So if he did it, then it can be done, and i have nothing else to do.
Which means that it is time for me to go get a cup of coffee at some city coffee shop with outdoor seating and watch Young India [YoIn] deal with the fact that Modern India [MoIn] is not driving their father's Oldsmobile anymore. For one thing they, YoIn, can talk to each other with far fewer strictures and conditions than did their fathers. Eavesdropping on those conversations gives me hope. Thank the gods that this generation of Indians can actually see how awful bell bottomed trousers are before they rush out and buy a pair.