On-line Learning

A few months ago, I purchased my first Guitar. And, being a techie and all, decided to learn playing it "on-line". The wife thought that to be impossible and started making arrangements for me to see sense in a few weeks and join a proper coaching class.... and time went by.

A few minutes back a friend askedme how my online learning experience was. And While answering to that question, I realized two things -

A. Thre are four score and twenty people out there who spend time, energy and often money to put up online resources for novices to learn.
B. I actually did better than some of those who had taken classes around the same time.

What made my online experience such a high?
Quality of content? Yes.
Availability os content when I had time? Yes.
Audio Video support? Yes.
But, most of all was the "freedom". Freedom to delve into what attracted me, try and and move on when something else attracted me. And freedom to keep doing this untill I found what I wanted to do with the Guitar.

I started at the very basics that defined and explained different parts of the Guitar. Then I tried finger exercises, Chords, Complex Chords, Tabs, Bar Chords, Playing a song, Filler and what not. And finally settled on playing song TABS.

While playing tabs, I realized that chords were necessary and learnt them one at a time (still learning).

What happened here is, I chose my teacher, rather an amalgum of multiple teachers, I chose my course material, I decided my pace and the best I set my own Syllabus!

No one told me I should learn 5 chords before getting into tabs.I had a target set, and I chose tha path best suiting me to that target. Result? An extremely satisfying experience and skills aquired which were at par with the average conventional student.

Another thing I learnt,nothing to do with the Guitar is, that there are people who want to give. For no other reason apart from the joy of sharing. Articles, Tutorials, Images, Videos...so much resource created painstakingly and uploaded for all to use and learn. All well indexed and sorted as per the level of the learner.....Amazing. No physical group could give me so much, in so little time and so well tailored to my shifting moods and whimses that this virtual community called WEB gave me.

Truly, the WEB is a community far batter and far resourceful that any physical community you could care to name. Al lI want to do is, some day, give back to the community I take so much from every day.

Give good qality and give it free!

Local Garage

This morning, a strange thing happened. While slowing down for a speed-hump, my rear wheel (bike) skidded. Now this was strange cause this is my regular route and no surprises were there to cause any deviation. Then a few KMs later, while breaking hard for a car ahead, my rear wheel skidded again! This is also a normal occurring - the breaking part, not the skidding part. And finally, as icing on the cake, I braked when a cab ahead of me stopped and I just went and bumped it from behind. In All three cases no harm was done. But this had me really worried. Especially because in my past 2 years of extensive riding, I did not have a "total" of three [unplanned] slips like this.

Now that I think of, I had my bike serviced at a local garage this week end. Why a local garage, because Yamaha did not have time. I had to leave my bike Monday morning and collect it the same day evening....Not Possible. So ...a local garage.

I asked that guy to "change" the front and rear disk pads. That genius just cleaned and replaced them. Also the Disk Brake fluid was only topped up and not changed. Of course he did not charge me for what he did not do, but now my front brakes and almost non-existent and the rear one locks up.

I am getting the pads changed, even if I have to hold a gun to his head.

:)

I, the Nation.

I have met with an accident and lying a little away from the main road in the bushes. There are ants, rats, dogs and other small animals gnawing away at my body and I am in excruciating pain. I shout out for help and my voice rises loud and clear, but no one hears over the din of the motorway. A few look towards me and think, "Thank God thats not me" and walk away, a disturbed look on their faces.

A few people, almost all of them small children, try to drive away the animals, but then have too rush when they hear faceless voices reminding them of their various commitments for which they are already late. A few who ignore the voice are punished heavily. So are made to starve, some are rendered homeless and the rest jobless and characterless.

Finally a group of people arrive. In All white and with radiant faces and smiles. I tell them of my pain and demand help. They ask. "And who are you? You look familiar but we are not sure".

I say, "I am the farmer who feed you, I am the river which quenches your thirst. I am "the one" your brothers and sisters died for. I am your pride and dignity. I am your country, India.".

They seem moved by the fact and whisper among themselves. I am still in unbearable pain. They smile at me and I feel so very relieved. "I will be well again" I think to myself, "This pain will go away and I will have all my glory back".

These people seem to be making some calls, important calls, maybe they need more people, specialists to help me. OK, I can bear the pain for a little while more. But why are they not driving away the rodents who keep chewing at me?

A little later a few truck loads of people arrive. "A ha! Help at last! After all I am their Mother India". These people who alight from the vehicles look at the initial group and they nod towards me. The first new comer hands over an envelope to the group and walk towards me. I am watching sprawled on the ground. I don't know why, but a fear builds up deep inside me and starts creeping through my veins. This man, the new-comer raises his arms, he is carrying a sickle!!! Swiftly he chops away a part of my body and walks away grinning. I scream, and they all scream back at me. The second, the third and they keep on coming. The group in while are busy collecting the envelopes and counting something inside them. I strain to see and it is money.

In bits and pieces I am being hacked away. Not too far away celebrations start. It seems that the pieces of my body have fetched them excellent revenues and thats the celebrations for. The children come back and are aghast to see the scene. They intervene and try to stop the massacre. Some are convinced that I do not feel any pain and the rest are beaten and thrashed until they die to run away. And these people keep on hacking at me.

I cannot scream any more. The sadness of being abused in too great for me to feel any more pain now. I watch, helplessly. Almost as helpless as the huge crown which has gathered to see .. just see,not do anything.

Soon the locals are driven away. The "sale" stops. I am in no state to think.. I just watch. Helicopters .. I can hear them...and many of them. They come closer, hover and finally land. More people alight from the helicopters and I can literally see them drooling at the prospect of looting me further. I sigh and resign. I resign to the fact that those born of me and from me are now letting the world loot me for money. "Little do they know of the fortune that I could provide had they treated me with a little respect and care. I am a nation of a 100 million and when I set my mind, I can ... could have made every one of my citizen such that the whole world would just stand and watch us grow from power to power, joy to joy."

Now I lie in a pool of blood, little do these people know that every drop of my blood is contributed from their own....just like every flicker of my smile would have added to their own.

Now when I weep bitter tears, the whole nation weeps. My unhappiness has spread into every heart. My pain is being felt by every soul. I but cannot help this. Because I am nothing but the collective thoughts of my citizens. I am the mirror of the people and these fools do not realize that what they do unto me, they do unto themselves.

The wrong doers should be punished and the bystanders are to be banished.

- Jai Hind (Do we have the right to say that?)