Day Sixty One – Soil Creeps, River Beheading and Erratics

I had a lot of fun today reading geography. (Yeah, I am still stuck with it. Tomorrow though, hopefully, I will move on to history and given that I quite like history, I am hoping to cover up the backlog rather quickly.) What I particularly enjoyed in geography was the introduction to a few interesting terms which curiously I had never read about before. I should have but well, I didn’t. Or maybe I did read about them but by now I might have forgotten which, to be honest, doesn’t seem much likely for these are rather fascinating terms.

Which terms, you may ask? Well, there are a lot of them but I would like to draw your attention to three in particular. These are soil creep, river beheading and erratics. Definitions are given along side. To see the full concept with imagery, click on the links.

Soil Creep: the slow downward progression of rock and soil down a low grade slope; it can also refer to slow deformation of such materials as a result of prolonged pressure and stress. Better known as Downhill Creep or commonly just Creep.

River Beheading: a geomorphological phenomenon occurring when a stream or river drainage system or watershed is diverted from its own system, and flows instead down the bed of a neighbouring river system. Also called stream capture, river capture, or stream piracy.

Erratics: A glacial erratic is a piece of rock that differs from the size and type of rock native to the area in which it rests

I like the way the geographers and the geologists named these terms. They all have a nice touch to them which makes knowing and learning about them all the more fun.

I had also heard a lot about the hanging valleys, maybe as a direct association in my head to the ‘Hanging Gardens of Babylon’, which a) if I were to write about will take a separate post in itself and b) I don’t know why my brain associates hanging valleys to the Hanging Gardens of Babylon except for the obvious ‘hanging’ connection but it does.

If you are curious, a hanging valley is is a shallow valley carved by a small glacier and thus the elevation of the valley floor is “hanging” high above the elevation of the valley floor carved out by the larger glacier.

As for the Hanging Gardens of Babylon, they were one of the seven wonders of the ancient world, and the only one whose location has still not been identified. There’s a nice hand engraving of the same done in the 19th century given below. Have a look. If you are curious, read more about it here.

So, there you have it. I don’t know about you and you can say what you will, but I must say this in conclusion – when it comes to naming terms, geographers have got style.

To the geographers then, may they keep naming features interestingly.

Things Left Unsaid

“I have no idea to this day what those two Italian ladies were singing about. Truth is, I don’t want to know. Some things are best left unsaid. I’d like to think they were singing about something so beautiful, it can’t be expressed in words, and makes your heart ache because of it. I tell you, those voices soared higher and farther than anybody in a gray place dares to dream. It was like some beautiful bird flapped into our drab little cage and made those walls dissolve away, and for the briefest of moments, every last man in Shawshank felt free.”

– Red (Morgan Freeman) in ‘Shawshank Redemption’
(written by Frank Darabont; based on a Stephen King novella)

These happen to be my favourite lines from the movie, Shawshank Redemption. Not only because Morgan Freeman voice helps a lot in making it so, which is a given, but because I like the idea of some things being best left unsaid. For then the listener can draw umpteen interpretations and imagine, for each, his or her own words. Which I find can be quite nice sometimes.

As I listen to music from other worlds, from groups like SigurRos or DakhaBrakha, I am tempted, given my love for the written word, to find the meaning of the songs that they sing. I wish to read their lyrics, translate them and draw interpretations from them. Yet sometimes, for the songs that I really love and adore, I don’t do that. And when I don’t, I often recount the above quote. For maybe then, I don’t want to know the artists’ intentions and interpretations of their own music. Because to me, they have become something and that something may or may not correspond to the artists’ ideas, if at all. Heck, I am not even sure whether I want them to correspond.

That’s the thing about good art. It affects each person in its own inimitable way. Not only the artists, who of course especially are moved by it, for they have after all created it, but its appreciators too. Both of whom can be, and usually are, influenced quite differently.

A part of me, however, argues for the opposite. It tells me that although I may romanticize the idea of things being better left unsaid, I don’t know what I am missing out on and I may never realize it either, if I continue to do so. It further argues, and to good effect, that if I try finding the meaning that the artists’ imply and give it a patient ear, I may end up enjoying the art a lot more than I did before. Even if I do not, why can’t I think of it as another interpretation and add it to the umpteen other interpretations that I may have drummed up. If art can truly work its inimitable magic on each separately, as I earlier mentioned, and all are more or less valid, why is it that I give more credence to the artists’ interpretation than my own. I shouldn’t. And this to the rest of me seems like quite a convincing argument.

I am, thus, torn.

Are some things better left unsaid? Or should one strive to find all possible meanings behind things and only then, if the unsaid interpretation appears best, choose it. Also, will this process, in itself, make one lose some charm for the art. I am not too sure. It can certainly. This further leads me to another question. Are we romantic about things because we don’t know better or because we do and yet choose to be romantic about it? Or both? How does romanticism actually work?

I am going to go think about it. Or maybe just leave it unsaid; for you to draw your own interpretations. Either way, I am ecstatic that music doesn’t have any language barriers. Or does it?

Boyhood

There is this moment in the movie ‘Boyhood’, almost at the end of it, when the protagonist – the boy Mason Jr – is about to leave for his college. And he cannot but rush to the next phase of his life. He had had enough of his home and his life there. Newer opportunities in college beckoned. He was, thus, excited. His mother not so because to her it was as she herself said, ‘the worst day of her life’. Her second child was also leaving her for college.

The scene, for me, starts with a discussion on Mason Jr. not taking the framed picture of the first photograph he ever took. His mother was persistent about it but when he rejected it finally, she exploded. She went on to talk about her life as if it just was a series of milestones. Which it truly felt as if it was both to her and the viewer. And then eventually she said,

“I just thought there would be more.”

Post which she cried, head on her hands. Soon, a song started playing -‘Hero’ by the band ‘Family of the year’ as Mason Jr. left to his college in his car.

Ah, that moment! It to me was what the whole movie had been building up to. An open ended question of sorts to the meaning of life, if you will, and yet not. As kids, as young adults, and even as 20 somethings we are so immersed in our own lives, in our own grand personal narratives and dramas that we so easily overlook the foundations of our life – our parents – who nourished us and made us, for the better or worse. Our triumphs at times – our journeys to unknown futures and places – are to them their kids leaving them, a moment of farewell. We are in a way their life’s work. Yet, I don’t think we think of it like that. We are far too self-indulged. And that’s how I guess our life works. Practicalities and interests over emotions.

The movie ‘Boyhood’ could have easily been named as ‘Parenthood’ and it would have been just as alright. It could have been named a lot of other things too, and still it would have been fine. For this movie is akin to a slice of life – a twelve years long one. One can use as many adjectives to describe it as one wishes to. They will all fit in. For as life is an amalgamation, and a large one at that, so is its depiction in the movie ‘Boyhood’. If you haven’t yet seen it, please do. It’s a great work of art. Rarely does one come across such works, if at all.

As for me, I am still thinking about that moment. It was some powerful stuff. It wrung emotions in me from within. And that’s something.

Here is a quick trailer – song – story of the movie ‘Boyhood’ in a single video. I do not recommend you to watch it if you’re going to the watch the whole movie . If you aren’t, well, at least go ahead and get a feel of the movie below. Though I still think that you should watch it.

Champi Master

It has been one of my quirks I believe, and I do this thing a lot. I look for alternate career vocations or professions that I can engage with, and that I will like doing, in case everything I ever primarily dreamt of fell apart. It began for me as a kid itself. I remember that when I first saw a master bus conductor in one of the buses of Kolkata, keeping currency notes stylishly folded in his hands, carrying a sturdy brown leather bag full of coins or change if you will, conducting and directing the movements of the bus with a string attached to a bell or sometimes through his extra powerful whistling prowess, I thought “Hmm. That looks fun. I can do it. It seems to be a good career option”. Later, I also found other interesting avenues – like that of being an ad filmmaker, or a librarian, or a shepherd, among others. And then, of course, there was the vocation of being a champi master. A belief which got strengthened again yesterday, as I finally went to the barber and got myself a good champi. It was nice. I had a smile beaming on me for the next hour or so. Maybe more. He even used a vibrating machine on my head. I think I am now going to purchase that machine myself. And try, only if as a hobby to practice the time old art of massages and champi. An amateur masseur at your service, if you would be so kind.

I was telling my champi master, the barber that is, that he was an effective practitioner of an art form thousands of years old. He just smiled a little, a bit uneasily, perhaps for he never thought of it like that. I hope he does so now. As I do. Firmly. Like a good champi should be.

This is where I draw the line

In response to the perennial question of ‘where do you draw the line’, this graffiti was done in San Francisco by Banksy. Quite apt, I presume.

Jackie Chan’s Movies

I came across this craftily made video on Jackie Chan’s movies. It talks about the finer technical aspects of his film making. The video released by the ‘Every Frame a Painting‘ channel is edited and narrated by Tony Zhou. It quite effectively showcases what makes Jackie Chan’s movies as brilliant as they are. It highlights his framing, his editing, his perfectionism, his skill and dedication among a lot of other things. Now I have been a huge Jackie Chan fan for as long as I can remember. This video enhances that even further. In fact, I am now thinking of watching one of his movies again. Maybe I’ll watch the ‘Armour of God’ this time. Let’s see. Till then, here are few of the many reasons why Jackie Chan is awesome. (Perhaps one of the rarest of people for whom the word ‘awesome’ is actually justified.)

The YouTube channel is quite nice too. I have been watching a lot of its videos and they are impressive. If you are interested in the craft of film making, you should take a look. Here’s the link again. Have fun learning about and appreciating the wonderful world of film making.

Deconstructed Innings

While in Mumbai, I happened to visit the National Gallery of Modern Art (NGMA) in the Fort area. There on display was an art exhibition on Sachin Tendulkar called ‘Deconstructed Innings’. Oh, what an experience it was! I, literally, had goosebumps. The paintings, the sculptures, the thematic representations, the symbolism, the entire atmosphere was quite amazing. It was one worthwhile visit. If you happen to be in the Mumbai area and are a fan of Sachin Tendulkar, and let’s be honest there are a very few people who aren’t (especially in Mumbai), please make sure you do go to the gallery as soon as you possibly can. The exhibition will be on till the 14th of February’ 2015 and it will be a fantastic experience. I assure you of that. If, however, you aren’t in Mumbai, well too bad.

This happens to be one of those things that I don’t like about living in small cities. We just don’t have such good exhibitions, activities, events or talks happening; if at all. Even when we do have them, they are so infrequent that it’s almost a once in a blue moon activity. Not cool. We still have the internet though. Agreed it’s not as fast as it should be but still it’s there. Plus, we have some lovely people on the internet. A lot of whom live in such big cities. Like Rama Arya who writes this blog called ‘Return of the Prodigal’. She, in one of her posts, has very nicely chronicled a lot of the art work on display at the exhibition. Of course, it cannot and will not match up to the actual feel of being at the exhibition itself. But I guess it’s alright. For we enjoyed most of Sachin’s innings in a similar fashion as well. Through that magnificent machine called the television; and, of course, the live telecast enabled by satellites. Not to mention the team of people craftily editing the footage from a number of cameras to get you the perfect picture. Well, you get the drift. Enjoy, once again, the legend of living in the times of Sachin Tendulkar.