Before you get the wrong sense of it, look up sensual in dictionary. Sensual also means 'pertaining to the senses'. I think it's just our fascination with sex that gave this word a bad connotation.
I wanted to blog today but my 2-month daughter is in my arms. All are sleeping but we are having a great time. She refuses to lie on my lap. She wants to sit up and watch me blogging! It is like 11.00 p.m. and we are playing 'Life is Crazy' from Wake up Sid in the background.
Have you ever given your finger for a baby to hold? She grabs it and you are stunned by the firmness of the grip. I noticed only after I read Eugen Herrigel’s 'Zen in the art of Archery'. The fascination is in fact that the little face never betrays the firmness of the hand. Amazing! How does she do it?
I think there are many ways to drive your machine. Car or Bike, it makes no difference. It's the man-machine fusion that amazes me. So you can drive your car with a vengeance, I mean fast, real fast. Like bordering on insanity as you take on the battle on the roads. I have done that. Gone on suicidal missions myself.
You can also drive as if it is a burden. My dad does that. There isn’t a single day he curses the nonsense on the road. Well, I don’t blame him. He has been driving for like 35 years! He misses the empty roads of the 70s. He is in his 70s but he can still get home on a rainy day. Hats off!
Ah! She has started to yawn. That’s a good sign.
Then you can drive like some women do. Sorry ladies, but c'mon, you know what I mean. Yeah, the ones that never goes beyond the 3rd gear. They drive oblivious of the mess they leave behind. They never grasp the subtleties of driving. I didn’t mean the obvious hand signals. I meant the expressions of an approaching driver. That nod of acknowledgement or perhaps the stare as you invade their space. I know, there are limits to liberties one can take.
Then, there are 'invalids' like the old man himself, obstinate, driving a dream like Skoda at 40kmph! They never hire professionals (Who said I can’t drive, eh?) It is an insult to the machine, to those men who build that machine. To Mankind itself!
But I wanted to talk about the different stages of driving. We all begin as toddlers, perspiring during the initial months as we master one trick after another to enter the 'teens' of driving.
Teenage driving is fast and reckless rebel-without-a-cause driving. To them, driving is a war to be won. As you race to ahead each vehicle, it's like tasting blood. And there are different ways to do it.
The outright maneuver where you don’t even give a chance to know what happened. The hapless driver does not even catch you on his rear mirror as speed fast.
Or you play 'cat and mouse' to wear him down, play on his nerves kissing his butt for like 30 minutes as you negotiate the turns and highways in unison, you don’t overtake even if you can, you tense him up, until, you kill at your will. Humiliate as you pick the instance and place.
Or maybe you wanna actually let the idiot overtake you, let him get out of sight. And then, give it to him. Rash and reckless, something out of the blue that blows his brains! Oh! There are many ways.
Why do the little ones love the comfort of the arms? I can almost hear my little one snoring! She has an odd way of putting both her hands above her head while she sleeps.
But some pass through the teens without the thrills, they probably started late in life or never had the balls. They are the sane ones though. There are also those teens who never grow up. Stay teen and die teen.
Getting to the 'sensual' level takes time. Driving, with your full senses. Not with your heart or mind. You cut out them out and use your senses alone. Then driving becomes like my daughter's grip. Firm yet no firmness on her face. You drive with passion, but your body betrays no passion. No malice, No vengeance. No Bravados either. Your heart doesn’t pound nor the pressure raise. You drive like a machine yourself.
No feelings interfere. You’ve got all the skills and you know your machine. All you do is measure the context and move your body (your car) in response. When you drive you no longer impose yourself. Your hands caress the steering but the grip is firm. Your feet are gentle on the pedals but firm. You drive the hundreds as you are drive the fifties. You no longer drive fast for the sake of being fast. You drive fast because the context demands it.
You also realize that your machine 'lives' and 'drives' you as much as you drive it. Like a faithful pet, every machine knows it’s only master. That’s why they say never let another drive your machine. You don’t believe me? Well, after five years of driving your machine, trying driving another machine of the same make, the strangeness amazes you. What makes you think that machine won't feel the same about you letting someone else drive your machine. The wear and tear of its nuts and bolts, all have your characteristics, your very nature of driving. It just knows.
Now, you no longer need that hapless look on the face of person to feel content. You also do not curse when a better machine outsmarts you. Nothing is taken personally. Nothing touches or unseats you.
You are just in love with your machine and driving is just lovemaking.
I take my girl and place her by my wife’s side. Good night.
I wanted to blog today but my 2-month daughter is in my arms. All are sleeping but we are having a great time. She refuses to lie on my lap. She wants to sit up and watch me blogging! It is like 11.00 p.m. and we are playing 'Life is Crazy' from Wake up Sid in the background.
Have you ever given your finger for a baby to hold? She grabs it and you are stunned by the firmness of the grip. I noticed only after I read Eugen Herrigel’s 'Zen in the art of Archery'. The fascination is in fact that the little face never betrays the firmness of the hand. Amazing! How does she do it?
I think there are many ways to drive your machine. Car or Bike, it makes no difference. It's the man-machine fusion that amazes me. So you can drive your car with a vengeance, I mean fast, real fast. Like bordering on insanity as you take on the battle on the roads. I have done that. Gone on suicidal missions myself.
You can also drive as if it is a burden. My dad does that. There isn’t a single day he curses the nonsense on the road. Well, I don’t blame him. He has been driving for like 35 years! He misses the empty roads of the 70s. He is in his 70s but he can still get home on a rainy day. Hats off!
Ah! She has started to yawn. That’s a good sign.
Then you can drive like some women do. Sorry ladies, but c'mon, you know what I mean. Yeah, the ones that never goes beyond the 3rd gear. They drive oblivious of the mess they leave behind. They never grasp the subtleties of driving. I didn’t mean the obvious hand signals. I meant the expressions of an approaching driver. That nod of acknowledgement or perhaps the stare as you invade their space. I know, there are limits to liberties one can take.
Then, there are 'invalids' like the old man himself, obstinate, driving a dream like Skoda at 40kmph! They never hire professionals (Who said I can’t drive, eh?) It is an insult to the machine, to those men who build that machine. To Mankind itself!
But I wanted to talk about the different stages of driving. We all begin as toddlers, perspiring during the initial months as we master one trick after another to enter the 'teens' of driving.
Teenage driving is fast and reckless rebel-without-a-cause driving. To them, driving is a war to be won. As you race to ahead each vehicle, it's like tasting blood. And there are different ways to do it.
The outright maneuver where you don’t even give a chance to know what happened. The hapless driver does not even catch you on his rear mirror as speed fast.
Or you play 'cat and mouse' to wear him down, play on his nerves kissing his butt for like 30 minutes as you negotiate the turns and highways in unison, you don’t overtake even if you can, you tense him up, until, you kill at your will. Humiliate as you pick the instance and place.
Or maybe you wanna actually let the idiot overtake you, let him get out of sight. And then, give it to him. Rash and reckless, something out of the blue that blows his brains! Oh! There are many ways.
Why do the little ones love the comfort of the arms? I can almost hear my little one snoring! She has an odd way of putting both her hands above her head while she sleeps.
But some pass through the teens without the thrills, they probably started late in life or never had the balls. They are the sane ones though. There are also those teens who never grow up. Stay teen and die teen.
Getting to the 'sensual' level takes time. Driving, with your full senses. Not with your heart or mind. You cut out them out and use your senses alone. Then driving becomes like my daughter's grip. Firm yet no firmness on her face. You drive with passion, but your body betrays no passion. No malice, No vengeance. No Bravados either. Your heart doesn’t pound nor the pressure raise. You drive like a machine yourself.
No feelings interfere. You’ve got all the skills and you know your machine. All you do is measure the context and move your body (your car) in response. When you drive you no longer impose yourself. Your hands caress the steering but the grip is firm. Your feet are gentle on the pedals but firm. You drive the hundreds as you are drive the fifties. You no longer drive fast for the sake of being fast. You drive fast because the context demands it.
You also realize that your machine 'lives' and 'drives' you as much as you drive it. Like a faithful pet, every machine knows it’s only master. That’s why they say never let another drive your machine. You don’t believe me? Well, after five years of driving your machine, trying driving another machine of the same make, the strangeness amazes you. What makes you think that machine won't feel the same about you letting someone else drive your machine. The wear and tear of its nuts and bolts, all have your characteristics, your very nature of driving. It just knows.
Now, you no longer need that hapless look on the face of person to feel content. You also do not curse when a better machine outsmarts you. Nothing is taken personally. Nothing touches or unseats you.
You are just in love with your machine and driving is just lovemaking.
I take my girl and place her by my wife’s side. Good night.
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