What's the most important thing in life?
Respect.
Too dependent on other people.
What, love?
A little Disneyland, isn't it?
God's will?
Close.
What is it then?
Necessity.
As in?
As in people do what is most necessary to them at any given moment.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Temporary
This is one of those days when the mind just doesn't work. Yeah. MY MIND just doesn't work. Has to be a big deal .. right?
Courtesy - a head spin which is perhaps faster than the fastest rotating wheel, I don't know which one is it, cant find it either -despite the new improvisation on research skills at work.
Sitting here at my desk ( yeah it sounds fancy, but not as fancy as it can be ) when I see the city below me, and those tall buildings across the road, suddenly passing through the tiny cars and the even tynier humans ; the world seems a distant reality.
This is one thing about work which gives me the most joy perhaps, the disconnect. Nothing has ever felt or can feel better, than a high which is generated by just constant work!
coming back to the head spin, apart from the fact its killing my tolerance to pain; the nerves can be felt now, the words spoken are generating a kind of vibration which the cheeks can sense. Like a hot iron rod is being passed through the veins it is flowing through my face into the head. This much and more, is how much the head hurts.
These are times when one feels ... dizzy? But I m here, on the 7th floor. Looking through the window from one eye, being vigilant about not being noticed on blogger with the other, while it still balances the fact that I dont type wrong. Ha! My fingers are behaving good though, well tamed as they are on the keyboard. :)
They are making a metro line ; connecting delhi and NCR. WOnder how it will be then, this window will show the metro and that speed will be much better than the buses and cars and their reflection on the glass of one of those tall DLF towers.
They don't realize. They never will. Even I haven't infact till now,will I?
But its all temporary, most of it, everything in fact;
can I call it Temporary Death?
Courtesy - a head spin which is perhaps faster than the fastest rotating wheel, I don't know which one is it, cant find it either -despite the new improvisation on research skills at work.
Sitting here at my desk ( yeah it sounds fancy, but not as fancy as it can be ) when I see the city below me, and those tall buildings across the road, suddenly passing through the tiny cars and the even tynier humans ; the world seems a distant reality.
This is one thing about work which gives me the most joy perhaps, the disconnect. Nothing has ever felt or can feel better, than a high which is generated by just constant work!
coming back to the head spin, apart from the fact its killing my tolerance to pain; the nerves can be felt now, the words spoken are generating a kind of vibration which the cheeks can sense. Like a hot iron rod is being passed through the veins it is flowing through my face into the head. This much and more, is how much the head hurts.
These are times when one feels ... dizzy? But I m here, on the 7th floor. Looking through the window from one eye, being vigilant about not being noticed on blogger with the other, while it still balances the fact that I dont type wrong. Ha! My fingers are behaving good though, well tamed as they are on the keyboard. :)
They are making a metro line ; connecting delhi and NCR. WOnder how it will be then, this window will show the metro and that speed will be much better than the buses and cars and their reflection on the glass of one of those tall DLF towers.
They don't realize. They never will. Even I haven't infact till now,will I?
But its all temporary, most of it, everything in fact;
can I call it Temporary Death?
Friday, May 8, 2009
I envy you!
Today the moon looks beautiful; its not always that I appreciate nature and natural things per se, like the flowers or mountains or the moon. But today ; it just IS beautiful. Not like the oh-you are so pretty -beautiful. But the oh- you're so beautiful that I don't wanna keep looking at you, or else tomorrow I'll miss you much!
That spark I had; is getting lost; somewhere in between people, pretense, people, arrogance, spite, anger and myself.
I wish I could drive to the moon tonight.
That spark I had; is getting lost; somewhere in between people, pretense, people, arrogance, spite, anger and myself.
I wish I could drive to the moon tonight.
Friday, March 27, 2009
Your Skin
The cool breeze sifts through my limbs, slipping and sliding through unexplored parts. For a moment the rest of the world slips away, scrubbed clean and absolved by the waves. I’d like to dive into that ocean, feel the water crash down on me, suppress me, remind me that I’m not the only thing that matters. But I can’t. Not now. Not yet. I should be here when you wake up, because that was the one sincere promise I made you.
I don’t even want to try leaving right now – not when it was you who looked at me in that way that taught me what it was to feel the ground beneath my feet disappear. Tiny rivulets of water slither down your temple, and I’m tempted to brush them away. I hold back, remembering what you told me:
“The one you mark is the one you keep.” And I don’t want to mark you because I’m not sure if I’ll keep you. I’m not sure if I’ll keep you, and I’m even less sure about whether you’d survive it. Maybe it’s because I know you feel me slipping away despite your clutching, like the grains of sand you held so tightly in your palm not two hours ago. Or was it years? It doesn’t matter.
The past has passed, and what’s left of it except a few recollections that’ll be buried beneath a surface of newer memories? Maybe you don’t feel the same way, and you’ll wake believing that the past is the segue to our future. Oh, what I wouldn’t give so that you’d wake to think about your next encounter instead. A part of me – the part that wishes this would never end – wants to convince me that I should stay, because you’re too bruised and too vulnerable and too fragile to do this on your own. The part of me that knows it’ll just be later rather than sooner overpowers the other.
The sand shifts slightly and, without looking, I know you’re reaching out for me. I bite down on my tongue gently, forcibly swallowing a groan of frustration. Against my better judgment, I offer you my hand and feel yours slip into it, entwining and tangling. Your hand is as familiar to me as my own, the leathery feel of your skin and long-dried salt strangely comforting. How could it not be, when I can recount thousands of paths traced upon the lines of my face with the wandering pads of your thumbs? Every trail embedded on your palm tells of every secret meeting we’ve had, all testaments to our fairy-tale story.
Fleetingly, I wonder if I’ll have the courage to stay when the silvery tones are replaced by glowing warmth. Then you stir again and it’s not hard for me to remember why I can’t stay within fields of golden scenery and humid, still air.
You exhale and I inhale. The moon is bright, illuminating the sky and shining like a large quarter in the expanse of navy blue above us. I tilt my head and glance at you, carelessly sprawled out. Surely you wouldn’t be so nonchalant if you knew. Your sunset skin and long limbs make me think of our summer, brightness and oceans bursting behind my eyelids. Your face is all angles and planes, like a high school geometry lesson. You’re squirming again, and I know that it’ll be only a matter of minutes before you wake.
“You’re leaving?” Your voice is rough with sleep, but somehow it’s still like warm molasses.
“Well, you’re awake now,” I say neutrally. It’s not a direct answer, and I know you hate it.
Your hand slips from mine and you rub your eyes, so blue they put the spring sky to shame. “Are we ever going to talk?”
“There’s nothing to say.” I shrug and promptly wince, remembering why I hate the sun. My shoulders are red and achy, sensitive even against the thin fabric of my shirt.
“Okay.” You nod slowly. “Okay.” We’re quiet for a few moments before you reach out and brush a strand of hair from my face. I know there’s more to this. “Things get lost without anyone noticing on the way, you know.” Your tone is quiet. Not angry. Not sad. Quiet.
“We’re a mistake we knew we were making,” I reply. “Four weeks isn’t enough to make something real. It’s not like we could have had forever.”
“Love that’s real doesn’t need to have forever,” you say, just as quietly.
I contemplate my words carefully. In the end, honesty wins over tact.
“This isn’t real.”
It takes another long, steady moment before you decide to speak again. When you do, I sigh with weariness.
“You were the loneliest place I’ve ever been in.”
“And you thought you could fix that?”
“I wish I could have.”
We are both looking up at the sky, wondering why the stars aren’t out. Maybe they’re hiding behind a veil of thin clouds. Your arm is barely brushing mine, almost inconceivably. I think of how many times I pictured this moment, this ending point. It’s nothing like the dramatic scene in my mind. It’s almost as if the strings connecting us had been snapping one by one, softening the final blow.
I’ll miss you, your broad smile and loud laughter. I can close my eyes and almost picture you strumming random notes on your guitar. I’ll miss the days we spent on the dock, playing that stupid game where we name the passing boats. I’ll miss your black leather jacket that always smelled of humid afternoons and sunshine. I'll miss the way you moan about how much your feet hurts after a long day. I'll miss your voice. I’ll miss the birthmark right below your left shoulder blade, the one shaped like Italy. I’ll miss your camera. I'll miss your phone. I'll miss your clothes. I’ll miss your room. I’ll miss your car.
I'll miss your skin.
I'll miss you.
Somehow, despite all of this, I still say, “See you around.”
I don’t even want to try leaving right now – not when it was you who looked at me in that way that taught me what it was to feel the ground beneath my feet disappear. Tiny rivulets of water slither down your temple, and I’m tempted to brush them away. I hold back, remembering what you told me:
“The one you mark is the one you keep.” And I don’t want to mark you because I’m not sure if I’ll keep you. I’m not sure if I’ll keep you, and I’m even less sure about whether you’d survive it. Maybe it’s because I know you feel me slipping away despite your clutching, like the grains of sand you held so tightly in your palm not two hours ago. Or was it years? It doesn’t matter.
The past has passed, and what’s left of it except a few recollections that’ll be buried beneath a surface of newer memories? Maybe you don’t feel the same way, and you’ll wake believing that the past is the segue to our future. Oh, what I wouldn’t give so that you’d wake to think about your next encounter instead. A part of me – the part that wishes this would never end – wants to convince me that I should stay, because you’re too bruised and too vulnerable and too fragile to do this on your own. The part of me that knows it’ll just be later rather than sooner overpowers the other.
The sand shifts slightly and, without looking, I know you’re reaching out for me. I bite down on my tongue gently, forcibly swallowing a groan of frustration. Against my better judgment, I offer you my hand and feel yours slip into it, entwining and tangling. Your hand is as familiar to me as my own, the leathery feel of your skin and long-dried salt strangely comforting. How could it not be, when I can recount thousands of paths traced upon the lines of my face with the wandering pads of your thumbs? Every trail embedded on your palm tells of every secret meeting we’ve had, all testaments to our fairy-tale story.
Fleetingly, I wonder if I’ll have the courage to stay when the silvery tones are replaced by glowing warmth. Then you stir again and it’s not hard for me to remember why I can’t stay within fields of golden scenery and humid, still air.
You exhale and I inhale. The moon is bright, illuminating the sky and shining like a large quarter in the expanse of navy blue above us. I tilt my head and glance at you, carelessly sprawled out. Surely you wouldn’t be so nonchalant if you knew. Your sunset skin and long limbs make me think of our summer, brightness and oceans bursting behind my eyelids. Your face is all angles and planes, like a high school geometry lesson. You’re squirming again, and I know that it’ll be only a matter of minutes before you wake.
“You’re leaving?” Your voice is rough with sleep, but somehow it’s still like warm molasses.
“Well, you’re awake now,” I say neutrally. It’s not a direct answer, and I know you hate it.
Your hand slips from mine and you rub your eyes, so blue they put the spring sky to shame. “Are we ever going to talk?”
“There’s nothing to say.” I shrug and promptly wince, remembering why I hate the sun. My shoulders are red and achy, sensitive even against the thin fabric of my shirt.
“Okay.” You nod slowly. “Okay.” We’re quiet for a few moments before you reach out and brush a strand of hair from my face. I know there’s more to this. “Things get lost without anyone noticing on the way, you know.” Your tone is quiet. Not angry. Not sad. Quiet.
“We’re a mistake we knew we were making,” I reply. “Four weeks isn’t enough to make something real. It’s not like we could have had forever.”
“Love that’s real doesn’t need to have forever,” you say, just as quietly.
I contemplate my words carefully. In the end, honesty wins over tact.
“This isn’t real.”
It takes another long, steady moment before you decide to speak again. When you do, I sigh with weariness.
“You were the loneliest place I’ve ever been in.”
“And you thought you could fix that?”
“I wish I could have.”
We are both looking up at the sky, wondering why the stars aren’t out. Maybe they’re hiding behind a veil of thin clouds. Your arm is barely brushing mine, almost inconceivably. I think of how many times I pictured this moment, this ending point. It’s nothing like the dramatic scene in my mind. It’s almost as if the strings connecting us had been snapping one by one, softening the final blow.
I’ll miss you, your broad smile and loud laughter. I can close my eyes and almost picture you strumming random notes on your guitar. I’ll miss the days we spent on the dock, playing that stupid game where we name the passing boats. I’ll miss your black leather jacket that always smelled of humid afternoons and sunshine. I'll miss the way you moan about how much your feet hurts after a long day. I'll miss your voice. I’ll miss the birthmark right below your left shoulder blade, the one shaped like Italy. I’ll miss your camera. I'll miss your phone. I'll miss your clothes. I’ll miss your room. I’ll miss your car.
I'll miss your skin.
I'll miss you.
Somehow, despite all of this, I still say, “See you around.”
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Ripples
He sat on the corner of the pond and threw stones in it. He saw the ripples; it was giving him a surreal pleasure. It was making him feel 'something' of this I am sure, but what? I shall never have the courage to ask.
He just sat outside and saw her fall apart; just like those ripples in the pond.
He just sat outside and saw her fall apart; just like those ripples in the pond.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Happiness
"Maybe happIness is something that we can only pursue. And maybe we can actually never have it no matter what."
This stayed with me after watching the Will Smith classic, but I believe in this now ; more than ever and always will. Oh and at this moment ;
I feel happy.
This stayed with me after watching the Will Smith classic, but I believe in this now ; more than ever and always will. Oh and at this moment ;
I feel happy.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Hope
...is important.
You always said that.
Keep the faith, is what you said ; right?
oh and
"I'll fight against destiny and win"
But what when one just can't do it anymore? What then?
What when one complete outdoes his own self, and another step doesn't seem like 'just' a step but as burdened as hell. Then what?
Why didn't you tell me what to do when one loses hope in faith.
Bring that hope back? Believe in yourself , life is a struggle, happiness is just a pursue blah blah blah and all the jazz?
Till when?
You always said that.
Keep the faith, is what you said ; right?
oh and
"I'll fight against destiny and win"
But what when one just can't do it anymore? What then?
What when one complete outdoes his own self, and another step doesn't seem like 'just' a step but as burdened as hell. Then what?
Why didn't you tell me what to do when one loses hope in faith.
Bring that hope back? Believe in yourself , life is a struggle, happiness is just a pursue blah blah blah and all the jazz?
Till when?
Thursday, January 29, 2009
Of Masks and an Evil Twin.
I don't know about you but I think when we are happy or sad you are everything jealous, spiteful, depressed, eccentric, and so on.
I believe everyone has more than one face, but I can't speak for everyone only myself.
I feel I passed though my 18 years as a wallpaper flower. Seen, but unnoticed at the same time.
At home at college. I see wrong I know right, but as a wallpaper flower you would lack the courage, spirit, and heart to correct it.
I can't look in the mirror
Because when I do I see an enclosed, spiteful, hateful, and envious girl.
Enclosed I hide the truth I bear the lies. You make me laugh you think you know me? Do you know I hate you? Do you know I fear you? Do you know that I would give up everything to be you and yet you whine on the most ridiculous things, you naive fool.
Spiteful spiting any love that comes my way.Everything looks fake
so don't give me your I love you's or you friendly hugs because it makes me tremble it makes me weep. I can no longer accept love. I fear love because I don't understand it, what is this four-letter word?
Hateful hating myself for the lack of courage to fight for what I want, what is right, and what is needed when it is right in front of my face. All the forced back words and swallowed tears I begin to hate it all.
Envious jealous of everyone who seems to have real happiness but like I would be able to recognize that.
When you see me you will know why I am the wallpaper flower. I am not Emo, gothic, or running around mourning for the world. I smile, I laugh, I play, I live. My perfect cover.
Fragile as glass.
All I have is hope and dreams
but I know it is only my refuge in the night in my slumber
I live the way I want to without you.
I fear of being alone and even though I hate you please don't leave me.
I believe everyone has more than one face, but I can't speak for everyone only myself.
I feel I passed though my 18 years as a wallpaper flower. Seen, but unnoticed at the same time.
At home at college. I see wrong I know right, but as a wallpaper flower you would lack the courage, spirit, and heart to correct it.
I can't look in the mirror
Because when I do I see an enclosed, spiteful, hateful, and envious girl.
Enclosed I hide the truth I bear the lies. You make me laugh you think you know me? Do you know I hate you? Do you know I fear you? Do you know that I would give up everything to be you and yet you whine on the most ridiculous things, you naive fool.
Spiteful spiting any love that comes my way.Everything looks fake
so don't give me your I love you's or you friendly hugs because it makes me tremble it makes me weep. I can no longer accept love. I fear love because I don't understand it, what is this four-letter word?
Hateful hating myself for the lack of courage to fight for what I want, what is right, and what is needed when it is right in front of my face. All the forced back words and swallowed tears I begin to hate it all.
Envious jealous of everyone who seems to have real happiness but like I would be able to recognize that.
When you see me you will know why I am the wallpaper flower. I am not Emo, gothic, or running around mourning for the world. I smile, I laugh, I play, I live. My perfect cover.
Fragile as glass.
All I have is hope and dreams
but I know it is only my refuge in the night in my slumber
I live the way I want to without you.
I fear of being alone and even though I hate you please don't leave me.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
I miss you.
I want to pick up a pen and paper, no not pen; a pencil. So, I want to pick up a pencil and write what I want my life to be some years hence, and achieve it by hook or crook.
And I want to pick up an eraser and erase every moment I shared with people who left with unsaid words. They never deserved so much of me. I am angry and extremely extremely ... void.
Human beings just use each other.
Emotionally. Physically. And when their work is done, they move ahead.
And I forgive them. Because I call them victims of circumstances; But my forgiveness ain't gonna be so easy now on.
Yes, you said it right my dear prospective Chief Minister , " People who have ambitions do not get effected by emotions"
No, I will not give up on compassion. No, I am not begging for stability in life.
I'm very very angry with myself and them.
I'm scared. Of life. Of people.
I'm scarred.
I'm a hopeless dreamer.
I'm void.
I'm not feeling right.
I'm just a little ashamed to be all of this. This is not what I want to feel.
I'm miss you Shivani. Badly. Please come back wherever you are. Please.
Too much usage of 'I' because its MY life. And I am the most important person in my life.
And I want to pick up an eraser and erase every moment I shared with people who left with unsaid words. They never deserved so much of me. I am angry and extremely extremely ... void.
Human beings just use each other.
Emotionally. Physically. And when their work is done, they move ahead.
And I forgive them. Because I call them victims of circumstances; But my forgiveness ain't gonna be so easy now on.
Yes, you said it right my dear prospective Chief Minister , " People who have ambitions do not get effected by emotions"
No, I will not give up on compassion. No, I am not begging for stability in life.
I'm very very angry with myself and them.
I'm scared. Of life. Of people.
I'm scarred.
I'm a hopeless dreamer.
I'm void.
I'm not feeling right.
I'm just a little ashamed to be all of this. This is not what I want to feel.
I'm miss you Shivani. Badly. Please come back wherever you are. Please.
Too much usage of 'I' because its MY life. And I am the most important person in my life.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
MY Shoes
If this is how it has to be; this is how it will be.
I was quite a weird kid.I had a habit of losing stuff. I was indeed one of those completely careless ones, I used to take my dad to buy me new pencils every weekend ; the fanciest ones there, purposely leave my water bottles and tiffin box in school to be able to demand for a new one, drop things out of my balcony with the intention of not wanting to see them ever the list can be endless. Whenever it happened due to my own fault , I rarely showed any guilt . I just ordered for a new one. As if it was my right to get the exact same thing back again. Though I never played with dolls, I had one with blue eyes, if not less I made my parents buy the same doll 7-8 times over a span of maybe a year and a half, everytime I saw any single defect in them I wanted a brand new one. ( And No, even if it seems like I wasn't one of those spoilt kids :P , my parents were the extremely strict ones, maybe just my mother. Papa could be manipulated by tantrums and tears, daughters have that advantage )
However this isn't the real story.
When I was 7 or 8. We used to have Yoga class in school twice a week. We used to leave our shoes in the classroom and go to the Yoga room in the basement. One of those days, I just carelessly opened my shoes , as usual ; without placing them under my chair. When we returned after class, my shoes weren't in place. In fact they were nowhere to be found. The first thing I did was ( No I didn't cry) I went to the classteacher, then to the lost and found. Just about everywhere, frantically looking for my shoes. Which was infact rather surprising for them, because it wasn't the first time that I had lost something. A month back I had lost my shoes and I happily walked back home with just my socks on. ( Yes because that time I wanted new shoes , my old ones were...well ...old? ) I started checking everyone's shoes.
Size 5.
Now there is a thing all of us have, the eye to recognize something you own, even if 50 other people have the exact same thing.
She was wearing them. I don't know why. Maybe she left her's in the basement and couldn't find them and wore whatever was in class. Maybe I was too careless with mine and she thought they were hers. But the fact remains that She was wearing MY shoes.
The fighter cock I was, I asked her to open them. That they were mine and she had no right to wear them. That I can see a certain part of the shoe lace out and the left shoe has a thread off at the end and that inside them the 5 is slightly faint from the place I remember seeing in the morning while wearing them, explaining myself thats its time I got a new one maybe.
But she refused. She said they were hers. Her mother was a teacher in school, she got all the more benefit. I was taken to the lost and found room, and there was a size 5 shoe which I was forced to wear. I did so, but for me, at that time, that day seemed the saddest day of my life. How could someone else claim on MY shoes. And just because her mother was a teacher and they knew I have a habit of being careless, it was conclusive that I am the one mistaken again?
I went back home crying. I wasn't the kind of kid who went back home and cried about bad days and bullies. I went back home happy, so it was indeed a shock for my mom.
I was sad all day. They offered me new shoes. I refused. I wanted my old ones back. They were mine, not hers. But I knew what I had to do.
Next day, we had Yoga class I again. When they left, I put the shoes I got from the lost and found under her chair with a note inside it and took mine back.
Felt amazing. It still does when I think about it.
The note said " Nobody can take away anything which is mine. I've taken it back"
(which was followed by a little drama, but I got to keep what was mine)
Though things have changed now. Considerably.
I still hate it when something owned by me gets claims from other people. Whether or not the current possession is still with me is immaterial.
I lost it. However my reaction to was quite contradictory to what I really I am. When I like something , I don't like it that others like it too. No its not being jealous, yes It's insecurity, not because my position as the owner decreases, but because when they came and claimed it after I lost it, they did it with too much confidence. It wasn't as if I couldn't ever find it back and claim it but I didn't want them to know that I once I had it and I lost it. I knew they just wanted sheer pleasure out of my misery by asking me whatever they did ;
All I said was, "No that wasn't mine ever".
Keep it.
I was quite a weird kid.I had a habit of losing stuff. I was indeed one of those completely careless ones, I used to take my dad to buy me new pencils every weekend ; the fanciest ones there, purposely leave my water bottles and tiffin box in school to be able to demand for a new one, drop things out of my balcony with the intention of not wanting to see them ever the list can be endless. Whenever it happened due to my own fault , I rarely showed any guilt . I just ordered for a new one. As if it was my right to get the exact same thing back again. Though I never played with dolls, I had one with blue eyes, if not less I made my parents buy the same doll 7-8 times over a span of maybe a year and a half, everytime I saw any single defect in them I wanted a brand new one. ( And No, even if it seems like I wasn't one of those spoilt kids :P , my parents were the extremely strict ones, maybe just my mother. Papa could be manipulated by tantrums and tears, daughters have that advantage )
However this isn't the real story.
When I was 7 or 8. We used to have Yoga class in school twice a week. We used to leave our shoes in the classroom and go to the Yoga room in the basement. One of those days, I just carelessly opened my shoes , as usual ; without placing them under my chair. When we returned after class, my shoes weren't in place. In fact they were nowhere to be found. The first thing I did was ( No I didn't cry) I went to the classteacher, then to the lost and found. Just about everywhere, frantically looking for my shoes. Which was infact rather surprising for them, because it wasn't the first time that I had lost something. A month back I had lost my shoes and I happily walked back home with just my socks on. ( Yes because that time I wanted new shoes , my old ones were...well ...old? ) I started checking everyone's shoes.
Size 5.
Now there is a thing all of us have, the eye to recognize something you own, even if 50 other people have the exact same thing.
She was wearing them. I don't know why. Maybe she left her's in the basement and couldn't find them and wore whatever was in class. Maybe I was too careless with mine and she thought they were hers. But the fact remains that She was wearing MY shoes.
The fighter cock I was, I asked her to open them. That they were mine and she had no right to wear them. That I can see a certain part of the shoe lace out and the left shoe has a thread off at the end and that inside them the 5 is slightly faint from the place I remember seeing in the morning while wearing them, explaining myself thats its time I got a new one maybe.
But she refused. She said they were hers. Her mother was a teacher in school, she got all the more benefit. I was taken to the lost and found room, and there was a size 5 shoe which I was forced to wear. I did so, but for me, at that time, that day seemed the saddest day of my life. How could someone else claim on MY shoes. And just because her mother was a teacher and they knew I have a habit of being careless, it was conclusive that I am the one mistaken again?
I went back home crying. I wasn't the kind of kid who went back home and cried about bad days and bullies. I went back home happy, so it was indeed a shock for my mom.
I was sad all day. They offered me new shoes. I refused. I wanted my old ones back. They were mine, not hers. But I knew what I had to do.
Next day, we had Yoga class I again. When they left, I put the shoes I got from the lost and found under her chair with a note inside it and took mine back.
Felt amazing. It still does when I think about it.
The note said " Nobody can take away anything which is mine. I've taken it back"
(which was followed by a little drama, but I got to keep what was mine)
Though things have changed now. Considerably.
I still hate it when something owned by me gets claims from other people. Whether or not the current possession is still with me is immaterial.
I lost it. However my reaction to was quite contradictory to what I really I am. When I like something , I don't like it that others like it too. No its not being jealous, yes It's insecurity, not because my position as the owner decreases, but because when they came and claimed it after I lost it, they did it with too much confidence. It wasn't as if I couldn't ever find it back and claim it but I didn't want them to know that I once I had it and I lost it. I knew they just wanted sheer pleasure out of my misery by asking me whatever they did ;
All I said was, "No that wasn't mine ever".
Keep it.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Monday, January 5, 2009
Really?
It's not always hard to be a fan, of course; when you're a little kid it's the easiest thing in the world. At a point in your life when you pretty much can't do anything - as adults will hasten to remind you, saying things like " you can't drive a car until you're older," or, "human beings can't see through walls, no matter how hard they look at them," - Superman can do absolutely anything and everything. (Actually, I've seen Superman drive a car. And I bet noone can do it better than him)And the things he can do are of particular interest, it's fair to say, to little kids. For example: when was the last time you really wanted to set something on fire by just looking at it? Or really, really wished you could fly? Not "boy, wouldn't it be great if I got a surprise upgrade to business class" fly, or "maybe I can use my frequent flyer miles to score a trip to a friend" fly, but just, you know, fly. Probably not as recently - and certainly not as devoutly - as any five-year-old boy you know.
Superman is also just plain good, and when you're still at an age when things come in lots of simple good and bad categories, he fits pretty easily into that sort of framework. Think about the movies in both of them ; where much is made of Superman never lying. When you're at an age when you're looking for moral absolutes to admire, Superman's way up there, up in the sky.
But things change; seasons pass, and tender youth gives way to bitter experience. and all the things about Superman that were so admirable then become, well, a little grating. Everything is - or at least feels - much more complicated, and the simplicity of Superman's moral code seems a bit like kid stuff at a time when it's much harder to figure out right from wrong. And Superman himself? Polite, well-behaved, always getting along with the authorities? Not particularly cool, at a time when cool matters a lot; other heroes take center stage, ones that are a little more...rock and roll.
And now, in adulthood?
I'll be honest: even though it's been some time since I've been a teenager, I still love the idea of Superman if not him.
Ever since I can go back in time, I have had my heroes. People I have looked upto. People who inspire and not make me negotiate. People who have battled with the odds, taken the lone path and succeeded, in more ways than one. Hero-worshipping has been an inherent part of me I guess, extraordinaries don't happen to people everyday nor have they to me; the very few who have made the difference have become MY heroes. Thus explaining my obsession with Superman. (I call it pure faith).
But they have also made my worst fears come true, that the closer you get to a person ; the more you know about them, something will let you down. Knowingly , unknowingly or due to my elevated expectations, they have let me down and left me dejected, taken away my hopes , my faith.
I thought the worst thing to do is to let down your hero , but even worst is getting your heart broken by one. Someone who meant perfect in the dictionary of human beings , up there in your eyes, the heart aches to bring em down and the mind says maybe they never deserved that place.
I can ridicule everything by saying I make the wrong choice every time or that it was me who decided to give them that place in life and its completely fair if I decide to take it back. But then where does my hope in faith go? Shattered into a million pieces? Because they couldn't carry the burden of being a Hero or it'ws too juvenile and frivilous of me to expect so?
I want to go back and read " Why the World Needs Superman" But a certain part of me is way too angry and way too let down to confirm the faith again.
There are many unspoken realities that we dismiss all because we are too chicken to deal with it.But,does fantasy take over?More often than not,its just reality that strikes back at us harder than ever.
Life can't always be a bed of roses and I embrace that.
It's alright to dream,but just make sure that you're not living in a dream.That's what matters I guess.
Maybe in this real world, there are no real heroes; just a desperate need to believe in one.
"Does the World Need a Superman?"
I don't know.
Superman is also just plain good, and when you're still at an age when things come in lots of simple good and bad categories, he fits pretty easily into that sort of framework. Think about the movies in both of them ; where much is made of Superman never lying. When you're at an age when you're looking for moral absolutes to admire, Superman's way up there, up in the sky.
But things change; seasons pass, and tender youth gives way to bitter experience. and all the things about Superman that were so admirable then become, well, a little grating. Everything is - or at least feels - much more complicated, and the simplicity of Superman's moral code seems a bit like kid stuff at a time when it's much harder to figure out right from wrong. And Superman himself? Polite, well-behaved, always getting along with the authorities? Not particularly cool, at a time when cool matters a lot; other heroes take center stage, ones that are a little more...rock and roll.
And now, in adulthood?
I'll be honest: even though it's been some time since I've been a teenager, I still love the idea of Superman if not him.
Ever since I can go back in time, I have had my heroes. People I have looked upto. People who inspire and not make me negotiate. People who have battled with the odds, taken the lone path and succeeded, in more ways than one. Hero-worshipping has been an inherent part of me I guess, extraordinaries don't happen to people everyday nor have they to me; the very few who have made the difference have become MY heroes. Thus explaining my obsession with Superman. (I call it pure faith).
But they have also made my worst fears come true, that the closer you get to a person ; the more you know about them, something will let you down. Knowingly , unknowingly or due to my elevated expectations, they have let me down and left me dejected, taken away my hopes , my faith.
I thought the worst thing to do is to let down your hero , but even worst is getting your heart broken by one. Someone who meant perfect in the dictionary of human beings , up there in your eyes, the heart aches to bring em down and the mind says maybe they never deserved that place.
I can ridicule everything by saying I make the wrong choice every time or that it was me who decided to give them that place in life and its completely fair if I decide to take it back. But then where does my hope in faith go? Shattered into a million pieces? Because they couldn't carry the burden of being a Hero or it'ws too juvenile and frivilous of me to expect so?
I want to go back and read " Why the World Needs Superman" But a certain part of me is way too angry and way too let down to confirm the faith again.
There are many unspoken realities that we dismiss all because we are too chicken to deal with it.But,does fantasy take over?More often than not,its just reality that strikes back at us harder than ever.
Life can't always be a bed of roses and I embrace that.
It's alright to dream,but just make sure that you're not living in a dream.That's what matters I guess.
Maybe in this real world, there are no real heroes; just a desperate need to believe in one.
"Does the World Need a Superman?"
I don't know.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
Dethroned
It is lonely. Ironic, however, they wouldn't notice. They, with their complaints of starvation, devastation; they, mired in the fear of imminent extinction, shouldering the burden of sin; they, looking skyward for His guidance and shuddering at the merest thought of His presence.
But they seek comfort in each other's gaze, catching joy (however fleeting it may be) on the waves of their speech, fulfillment etched in company.
Below, the day has been long, made longer with the reluctant dimming of the afternoon, fading into evening. And as the night glimmers, He settles back, wearily, to rest.
The air chokes, humid - heavy with expectations. It's the end of another disappointment.
And He watches.
None of it's turned out, really, as He had planned.
He sees them now as they hurry, tracing paths that swirl and loop, twirling until their frantic activity blurs. Their orb glows, and He is mesmerized for the brevity of a butterfly's flutter. Enamored with their own glassy evanescence, they build towering monuments of metal, sculpting the majestic peaks and valleys of bridges, moving earth. Rivers flow under their direction, cutting and sharp; they design pictures to represent landscapes, images to replace strokes of art.
They won't remember Him for another few hours, He knows, and He wonders momentarily if they ever really remember Him at all.
They clutch trinkets, bejeweled and sparkling. Lovely. But trinkets do not build castles, cannot imitate fate.
It's not enough, now, to hope.
He sees the reflection from a woman's mirror, her vacant expression flickering, then vanishing. Vaguely, He hears the shrill shriek of a siren, desperate.
It wasn't always like this, He thinks. Before, back when He longed to coexist with His created universe, meshing mortal and eternal, when He wished to be the light of harmony - He foolishly imagined they would listen.
It hardly matters now, though, that He set out to do good, that He envisioned companions to brighten His empty existence. These companions clung to each other instead, and isolation found Him again, gaping and harsh. Nor is there any significance in the sapphire sphere He sees before him, pulsating with the life He birthed - it is no more His than it is its own, no more rare or beautiful than just another tainted perfection, torn carelessly, then haphazardly stitched back into existence.
He is all too familiar with sacrifice, knows far too well the taste of loss. And He laughs bitterly, for even He can no longer recognize the warped illusion that was once His passion, for even He has lost sight of its once-brilliant splendor.
He dares not admit they frighten him.
But they have their civilizations, complexities woven and tangled, mistakes. They have each other, but their brothers are enemies and they construct walls of mistrust, only to tear them down in fits of rage that He cannot comprehend. Justice, potent when laced with the shadows of greed, is far too powerful a temptation, and they cannot defy it - they do not try to resist.
They slaughter for pride, savoring a short-lived vengeance.
He doesn't understand.
He sees hunger written in their strained interactions, pleas for compassion. Empathy.
A girl lies under her covers, strands of hair visible around a pillow, breathing unevenly. He watches, and He knows she is broken.
In the darkness, they're weak.
They look up to Him, now, eyes gleaming, whispering a prayer before retiring - hope resting on an unshakable faith. He watches, and He sees their blindness. In the clarity, they are no more than children - bereft, searching. And just as He did, they ask for answers.
They, who can now control survival, treating life as a craft to bend to their every whim; they, who overlooked caution to pursue glory; they, who saw the end of His hopes - they are lonely.
But He can no longer call them His, and - no - He doesn't know how to help. He is lost as well, grasping, confused and despairing.
He watches the trembling of a little boy's eyelids in slumber, and He knows nothing.
In the stillness, He watches them.
Their flaws are His flaws, their errors traceable back to His hands. They are neither perfection nor harmony, but neither is He.
And there is hope etched in company.
But they seek comfort in each other's gaze, catching joy (however fleeting it may be) on the waves of their speech, fulfillment etched in company.
Below, the day has been long, made longer with the reluctant dimming of the afternoon, fading into evening. And as the night glimmers, He settles back, wearily, to rest.
The air chokes, humid - heavy with expectations. It's the end of another disappointment.
And He watches.
None of it's turned out, really, as He had planned.
He sees them now as they hurry, tracing paths that swirl and loop, twirling until their frantic activity blurs. Their orb glows, and He is mesmerized for the brevity of a butterfly's flutter. Enamored with their own glassy evanescence, they build towering monuments of metal, sculpting the majestic peaks and valleys of bridges, moving earth. Rivers flow under their direction, cutting and sharp; they design pictures to represent landscapes, images to replace strokes of art.
They won't remember Him for another few hours, He knows, and He wonders momentarily if they ever really remember Him at all.
They clutch trinkets, bejeweled and sparkling. Lovely. But trinkets do not build castles, cannot imitate fate.
It's not enough, now, to hope.
He sees the reflection from a woman's mirror, her vacant expression flickering, then vanishing. Vaguely, He hears the shrill shriek of a siren, desperate.
It wasn't always like this, He thinks. Before, back when He longed to coexist with His created universe, meshing mortal and eternal, when He wished to be the light of harmony - He foolishly imagined they would listen.
It hardly matters now, though, that He set out to do good, that He envisioned companions to brighten His empty existence. These companions clung to each other instead, and isolation found Him again, gaping and harsh. Nor is there any significance in the sapphire sphere He sees before him, pulsating with the life He birthed - it is no more His than it is its own, no more rare or beautiful than just another tainted perfection, torn carelessly, then haphazardly stitched back into existence.
He is all too familiar with sacrifice, knows far too well the taste of loss. And He laughs bitterly, for even He can no longer recognize the warped illusion that was once His passion, for even He has lost sight of its once-brilliant splendor.
He dares not admit they frighten him.
But they have their civilizations, complexities woven and tangled, mistakes. They have each other, but their brothers are enemies and they construct walls of mistrust, only to tear them down in fits of rage that He cannot comprehend. Justice, potent when laced with the shadows of greed, is far too powerful a temptation, and they cannot defy it - they do not try to resist.
They slaughter for pride, savoring a short-lived vengeance.
He doesn't understand.
He sees hunger written in their strained interactions, pleas for compassion. Empathy.
A girl lies under her covers, strands of hair visible around a pillow, breathing unevenly. He watches, and He knows she is broken.
In the darkness, they're weak.
They look up to Him, now, eyes gleaming, whispering a prayer before retiring - hope resting on an unshakable faith. He watches, and He sees their blindness. In the clarity, they are no more than children - bereft, searching. And just as He did, they ask for answers.
They, who can now control survival, treating life as a craft to bend to their every whim; they, who overlooked caution to pursue glory; they, who saw the end of His hopes - they are lonely.
But He can no longer call them His, and - no - He doesn't know how to help. He is lost as well, grasping, confused and despairing.
He watches the trembling of a little boy's eyelids in slumber, and He knows nothing.
In the stillness, He watches them.
Their flaws are His flaws, their errors traceable back to His hands. They are neither perfection nor harmony, but neither is He.
And there is hope etched in company.
Monday, December 29, 2008
What a semester of Law School taught me
Took my last exam for this semester, doesn't clearly mean I have "completed" it ; well of course till my result isn't out. But while going for the exam in the morning I just asked myself one thing. In between the projects and internals and meeting new people, and selective study. ( Something which has bailed me out of trouble all my life) did I really learn anything? Can I confidently say that I have covered 10% of what my curriculum requires my to know of the 10 Semester course? I don't know, the real test cannot be any exam, not for me. But there surely is a huge list of the things I learn't.
.)There is no time for postponing anything here, one thing ends and the other starts; If one starts procrastinating, then by the end of the semester; life will seem hell.
.)A good impression on the teachers can ensure that one passes in the exams, primarily because the 25-75 division of internal and external marks gives them the authority to turn your life upside down, in more ways than one.
.)Inside college do whatever you want to do, talk to whoever you want; but make sure only YOU know who you talk to and what and how much.
.)Going to the "maggi point" during that half an hour break is uselss, the slow walk and the run back to class within half an hour makes a person tired for the after lunch class.
.) Holidays is a concept or word atleast IP University isn't very aware of.
.)Notes do not help during exams, nor do those people (friends) who have those notes. Books and Wikipedia come more handy, reliable, convenient and of course, dependable.
.)"Man is solitary , poor, nasty , brutish and short " - Thomas Hobbes
(Hell yes! I agree. I call it cause and effect.)
.)The three reasons for a person committing suicide are - If he is an egotist , altruist or due to socio-economic conditions " - Emile Durkheim
( Oh really? :P )
.)According to Section 30 of the Indian Contracts Act, An agreement to wagering is void.
Still it is interesting to note that Horse Racing isn't considered wagering and is excluded from this provision.
Also, State Lotteries are not criminalized, however if a person does win a state lottery he cannot put a legal claim for it , because lottery by means of wagering is a void agreement.
.)Political Theory is cleaner than practical politics.
.)Mahatma Gandhi's contribution to the freedom struggle has been overrated.
.)The concept of just a government and a just government was given and forgotten.
.) " An eye for an eye, a limb for a limb, a life for a life " - Sharia, the Muslim source of Law.
(Explains alot of things, *shrug* )
And lastly, most of the things I learnt in these five months , will probably never be required in any courtroom battle. Has it made me wiser than the rest?
Time will tell.
.)There is no time for postponing anything here, one thing ends and the other starts; If one starts procrastinating, then by the end of the semester; life will seem hell.
.)A good impression on the teachers can ensure that one passes in the exams, primarily because the 25-75 division of internal and external marks gives them the authority to turn your life upside down, in more ways than one.
.)Inside college do whatever you want to do, talk to whoever you want; but make sure only YOU know who you talk to and what and how much.
.)Going to the "maggi point" during that half an hour break is uselss, the slow walk and the run back to class within half an hour makes a person tired for the after lunch class.
.) Holidays is a concept or word atleast IP University isn't very aware of.
.)Notes do not help during exams, nor do those people (friends) who have those notes. Books and Wikipedia come more handy, reliable, convenient and of course, dependable.
.)"Man is solitary , poor, nasty , brutish and short " - Thomas Hobbes
(Hell yes! I agree. I call it cause and effect.)
.)The three reasons for a person committing suicide are - If he is an egotist , altruist or due to socio-economic conditions " - Emile Durkheim
( Oh really? :P )
.)According to Section 30 of the Indian Contracts Act, An agreement to wagering is void.
Still it is interesting to note that Horse Racing isn't considered wagering and is excluded from this provision.
Also, State Lotteries are not criminalized, however if a person does win a state lottery he cannot put a legal claim for it , because lottery by means of wagering is a void agreement.
.)Political Theory is cleaner than practical politics.
.)Mahatma Gandhi's contribution to the freedom struggle has been overrated.
.)The concept of just a government and a just government was given and forgotten.
.) " An eye for an eye, a limb for a limb, a life for a life " - Sharia, the Muslim source of Law.
(Explains alot of things, *shrug* )
And lastly, most of the things I learnt in these five months , will probably never be required in any courtroom battle. Has it made me wiser than the rest?
Time will tell.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Erased
I am
Erased.
My image
A faint working
Of sketch marks
Across azure-lined pages.
I am
Replaced.
My memory,
A faint lineage
In the traces
Of a time once known.
I am
Myth.
My history
Is merely the existence
Of the stories I tell
To make believe I exist.
Erased.
My image
A faint working
Of sketch marks
Across azure-lined pages.
I am
Replaced.
My memory,
A faint lineage
In the traces
Of a time once known.
I am
Myth.
My history
Is merely the existence
Of the stories I tell
To make believe I exist.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Har kisiko mukkamal jahan nahi milta kisi ko zameen milti hai ; to kisi ko aasmaa nahi milta
"When it comes to practicality, things don't work this way.
I can either follow my dreams or make money, the other part of my life anyway sucks "
I have unwillingly been carried away.
Where everything is and must
be defined, refined, and redefined.
Where living your dreams is stupidity.
Where reality in unreal.
Where truth is just a 'never-heard-about' concept.
Where right & wrong is always debated in the mind.
Where I just feel I'm STUPID.
Despite my efforts to avoid assimilation,
I, too, scream mindlessly at eternal traffic.
I, regrettably, am in a fruitless rush
when there are hours or days to spare.
I think of the clear other side,
open-ended and unexpected like cancer.
I want to find my way.
The internal struggle is still on, with people around and inside, I want you to live your dreams, I want you to forget practicality , forget every reason that holds you back and live the way you always wanted to.I don't know if I am Learning the concept of selflessness or trying hard not be a bitch in the bargain? All I know is, It's not easy to be you, and its not easy to be me either.
Nerves of steel
Wills of iron
and a
Chocolate pudding heart, which does all the damage!
youn to koi tanha nahi hota,
chaah kar bhi koi juda nahi hota,
mohabbat ko to majbooriyan hi le doobti hai,
warna khushi se koi bewafa nahi hota!!
I can either follow my dreams or make money, the other part of my life anyway sucks "
I have unwillingly been carried away.
Where everything is and must
be defined, refined, and redefined.
Where living your dreams is stupidity.
Where reality in unreal.
Where truth is just a 'never-heard-about' concept.
Where right & wrong is always debated in the mind.
Where I just feel I'm STUPID.
Despite my efforts to avoid assimilation,
I, too, scream mindlessly at eternal traffic.
I, regrettably, am in a fruitless rush
when there are hours or days to spare.
I think of the clear other side,
open-ended and unexpected like cancer.
I want to find my way.
The internal struggle is still on, with people around and inside, I want you to live your dreams, I want you to forget practicality , forget every reason that holds you back and live the way you always wanted to.I don't know if I am Learning the concept of selflessness or trying hard not be a bitch in the bargain? All I know is, It's not easy to be you, and its not easy to be me either.
Nerves of steel
Wills of iron
and a
Chocolate pudding heart, which does all the damage!
youn to koi tanha nahi hota,
chaah kar bhi koi juda nahi hota,
mohabbat ko to majbooriyan hi le doobti hai,
warna khushi se koi bewafa nahi hota!!
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Green Eyes
So you have all said a word or two about it, how it should be , how it shouldn't . The conventional and unconventional, the real and fake, the practical and impractical.
I say you are all losers, YES! Fucking nuthead morons of the highest order.
You think you are being protective, warning me against it, am I going in a deep ocean without knowing how to swim? How the fuck do you know I am gonna drown for sure?
Protective eh?
I say ; be brave , have the courage!
You think I am a kid, I don't know how this dirty mean world works, I live in a parallel world, do I? Hell yes there is a parallel world, far much dangerous, far much adventurous, far much unexpected than you can think of! If here you think I can't survive, there I am living, with courage and compassion, outreaching any one who claims to be real.
I am just being myself, is that a problem for u motherfuckers?
I believe I am better than most of you all, is that again a problem?
I know I will prove my worth to myself.
I know this very feeling of being someone better makes me feel shallow inside, I have been taught to be humble, "down to earth", but I'm not.
I have nothing to lose to you all you cowards, I will lose myself only to him; in every sense of the word.
Does this burn your heart? You feel better when you point out my flaws,gives you a feeling that your life's better, doesn't it?
And when you say it to others, it makes you better in comparison to me! I know you all , you dickheads, I know the psyche of human beings, I know it all.
Yow will again tell me ," no you don't , you'r just a 19 year old kid "
I say, yes I am 19. Yes I am a kid, and this kid will make life hell you mess with me, you know that already don't you?
Its capricious. I know.
He is the man all that I want. I love him dangerously.
And I know you all , can just stand there and envy me.
Honey, you are a rock upon which I stand!
I say you are all losers, YES! Fucking nuthead morons of the highest order.
You think you are being protective, warning me against it, am I going in a deep ocean without knowing how to swim? How the fuck do you know I am gonna drown for sure?
Protective eh?
I say ; be brave , have the courage!
You think I am a kid, I don't know how this dirty mean world works, I live in a parallel world, do I? Hell yes there is a parallel world, far much dangerous, far much adventurous, far much unexpected than you can think of! If here you think I can't survive, there I am living, with courage and compassion, outreaching any one who claims to be real.
I am just being myself, is that a problem for u motherfuckers?
I believe I am better than most of you all, is that again a problem?
I know I will prove my worth to myself.
I know this very feeling of being someone better makes me feel shallow inside, I have been taught to be humble, "down to earth", but I'm not.
I have nothing to lose to you all you cowards, I will lose myself only to him; in every sense of the word.
Does this burn your heart? You feel better when you point out my flaws,gives you a feeling that your life's better, doesn't it?
And when you say it to others, it makes you better in comparison to me! I know you all , you dickheads, I know the psyche of human beings, I know it all.
Yow will again tell me ," no you don't , you'r just a 19 year old kid "
I say, yes I am 19. Yes I am a kid, and this kid will make life hell you mess with me, you know that already don't you?
Its capricious. I know.
He is the man all that I want. I love him dangerously.
And I know you all , can just stand there and envy me.
Honey, you are a rock upon which I stand!
Sunday, November 30, 2008
If you can dream it, you can do it!
Politics needn't be a swear word. Politicians can be good for you. They can be business managers running the state like its a company where change is a number that has to be achieved. A politician can know how to use a computer and turn a backwater into a technology hub. He can be a fanatic but about the common man's prosperity. He can look good, and even hotter than Tom Cruise ;)
Stay in power by the surrender of power.
Represent, not rule.
Politics and governance can be transparent. You will have the right to be able to hold a politician responsible for his actions.
And then, politicians will stop asking for your support. They will support you.
Starting now politics will not come in your way , it will be the way.
Its just about some time, the change will come in soon. Even here :D
Stay in power by the surrender of power.
Represent, not rule.
Politics and governance can be transparent. You will have the right to be able to hold a politician responsible for his actions.
And then, politicians will stop asking for your support. They will support you.
Starting now politics will not come in your way , it will be the way.
Its just about some time, the change will come in soon. Even here :D
Wednesday, November 19, 2008
The Sin Wagon
Every now and then I hear it coming down the street; I recognize the music which blares from its speakers. A sound all to familiar. Is it that time again? I close my windows and lock my doors as not to be tempted to run outside and take a peek, the temptation is too much to resist. I'm not talking about an ice cream truck; the "sin wagon" is back in town today, collecting the lost souls who want to take a ride, a little escapade and a departure from reality for just a few days, months, years. You decide when you want to come back, this trip is free, and the destination is to the VIP section in the coolest parts of hell.
What do you have to lose? Life smells like stinky dog poop right now, you need an escape and we guarantee that you will have the time of your life. Wait until you see the coming attractions, you wont be sorry you hopped onboard. Lets take a quick detour to "over indulgence," that's always fun!
What's your poison? Tequila? Drugs? Sugar? Sex? It's okay; go ahead...we are on a binge here. Next stop is "reckless intent." Let's get crazy! So what if it isn't right, who cares? We are on vacation from "good"; we have a hall pass to do reckless things on the "sin wagon." Right on, I see "undisciplined" ahead of us. How fun it is to ignore our responsibilities! This feels so good to do! I think I shall spend some more time here, party on I'll catch up with you later.
I don't know how long I've been on this ride now, but I'm getting weary. I miss those who are waiting at home for me. As I look to those who I share this wagon, there is nothing loving or good that I feel. I miss home, its time I get off this ride and say goodbye to those who wish to not remember...life.
I hear the sounds of this wagon again, passing through my neighborhood. The music is tempting and I find that I want to take a peek. Yet I remember the last ride, and however sweet the sound, the trip isn't worth it. Maybe, I should seek to visit heaven next, hell is overrated. Trust me, I know. Some rides aren't worth the journey taken.
What do you have to lose? Life smells like stinky dog poop right now, you need an escape and we guarantee that you will have the time of your life. Wait until you see the coming attractions, you wont be sorry you hopped onboard. Lets take a quick detour to "over indulgence," that's always fun!
What's your poison? Tequila? Drugs? Sugar? Sex? It's okay; go ahead...we are on a binge here. Next stop is "reckless intent." Let's get crazy! So what if it isn't right, who cares? We are on vacation from "good"; we have a hall pass to do reckless things on the "sin wagon." Right on, I see "undisciplined" ahead of us. How fun it is to ignore our responsibilities! This feels so good to do! I think I shall spend some more time here, party on I'll catch up with you later.
I don't know how long I've been on this ride now, but I'm getting weary. I miss those who are waiting at home for me. As I look to those who I share this wagon, there is nothing loving or good that I feel. I miss home, its time I get off this ride and say goodbye to those who wish to not remember...life.
I hear the sounds of this wagon again, passing through my neighborhood. The music is tempting and I find that I want to take a peek. Yet I remember the last ride, and however sweet the sound, the trip isn't worth it. Maybe, I should seek to visit heaven next, hell is overrated. Trust me, I know. Some rides aren't worth the journey taken.
Monday, November 3, 2008
Holding On
Dreams
Reality
Hurdles
Voices
People
Inspiration
Appreciation
Rejection
and then,... Chhotepan ka ehsaas.
So there are times, when I just feel like giving up everything, things I've stood for, things I believe in, things I want to be. Feel like ridiculing almost about everything positive and everything which has been an opium to life at some point or the other.
People ; their thoughts and words which have affected me in any way and made me who I am.
Lessons I have learn't ;
Notions I have about the way I learnt those lessons.
Notions about the way people behave/think/react/exist.
More importantly, the dreams I have seen for myself ; because of the million hurdles, because of the will going down, the strength diminishing, the nervous system crash if I may call it.
And then, I weigh it with that one thing I am living for
Ek Pehchaan.
It's worth holding on.
One more time. And many more to come.
Strength
Compassion
Clarity
and, the much wanted desire and want to fulfill every dream..
...will make me fall a million times, make me vulnerable, break my heart;
But I see no better way to live.
Reality
Hurdles
Voices
People
Inspiration
Appreciation
Rejection
and then,... Chhotepan ka ehsaas.
So there are times, when I just feel like giving up everything, things I've stood for, things I believe in, things I want to be. Feel like ridiculing almost about everything positive and everything which has been an opium to life at some point or the other.
People ; their thoughts and words which have affected me in any way and made me who I am.
Lessons I have learn't ;
Notions I have about the way I learnt those lessons.
Notions about the way people behave/think/react/exist.
More importantly, the dreams I have seen for myself ; because of the million hurdles, because of the will going down, the strength diminishing, the nervous system crash if I may call it.
And then, I weigh it with that one thing I am living for
Ek Pehchaan.
It's worth holding on.
One more time. And many more to come.
Strength
Compassion
Clarity
and, the much wanted desire and want to fulfill every dream..
...will make me fall a million times, make me vulnerable, break my heart;
But I see no better way to live.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
The Epiphany
There comes a time in every individual's life when the world just... stops. Time ceases, and only the beat of a heart can pulse within the ears. It always happens when there is a choice involved. A choice when one is waiting to decide which road will apply not only to the individual, but to the world.
One choice... small, mundane. The heart races, the palms sweat... time begins to pound, and the nervous anxiety of a soul crying out begins to be understood. For one moment in time, that individual gets it.
Heresy. Blasphemy. We all carry that spark, that infinite wisdom. We love, we laugh, we cry and weep. We create.
Each kind intention, a stack of good. Each wrong and evil presence another blot of darkness upon the canvas.
We are paint. We are spirit.
And then the moment comes/... and we choose.
Do we bring this knowledge to our populations... or do we hide it among dusty books and heretical lists? Who are we? Which choice is right?
Nothing. Nothing is what is right. All is perspective, relativism and illusion. Everything is based upon perception, and there is no possibility of making everyone happy. The pursuit of happiness is by necessity self-centered. The moral person pursues happiness while attempting to not harm others. THAT is the difference between good and evil.
THAT is who we are.
I lost these words the moment they fell out of my mouth, It's called an illusion and we are *IN* it.
Those million little pieces, they just fit at different places and can never be 'fixed'
It does make sense u retard.! I wanna grump and rant and rant and grump! People, places, stories, realizations, mistakes, feeling, thoughts, events.
Sleep is the best escape.
we are just a part of an illusion, that rabbit and hat magic the magicians do, thats what happens with us; except that the poor rabbit doesn't know he is a part of a trick unlike us. Yet we keep contradicting ourselves on the arguement that we see it, feel it , here it just as it is.
And then a certain part says that its just voices and faces.
Tricked, duped, deny , accept.
Fuck it. They are all wrong.
supposed to?
This is the word which creates all the shit. What is suppose to be will never be, its the molding and the fixings and the forceful fittings which make them the way they become.
Knowing about the the do's and the don'ts make it freaky and makes people like us retards.
Intoxication, sleep and tears. An elevated high; are true.
rest everything's a fuckin illusion.
P.S - People are bitter and people are total assholes. It's why sometimes I'm a bit of a hermit. Truthfully speaking though , it's just the outcome of a world which has never treated its occupants with any reasonable sort of care. This is called cause and effect. :|
S.S I owe you a part of it, facebook postings aren't always random time killing tools. ;)
One choice... small, mundane. The heart races, the palms sweat... time begins to pound, and the nervous anxiety of a soul crying out begins to be understood. For one moment in time, that individual gets it.
Heresy. Blasphemy. We all carry that spark, that infinite wisdom. We love, we laugh, we cry and weep. We create.
Each kind intention, a stack of good. Each wrong and evil presence another blot of darkness upon the canvas.
We are paint. We are spirit.
And then the moment comes/... and we choose.
Do we bring this knowledge to our populations... or do we hide it among dusty books and heretical lists? Who are we? Which choice is right?
Nothing. Nothing is what is right. All is perspective, relativism and illusion. Everything is based upon perception, and there is no possibility of making everyone happy. The pursuit of happiness is by necessity self-centered. The moral person pursues happiness while attempting to not harm others. THAT is the difference between good and evil.
THAT is who we are.
I lost these words the moment they fell out of my mouth, It's called an illusion and we are *IN* it.
Those million little pieces, they just fit at different places and can never be 'fixed'
It does make sense u retard.! I wanna grump and rant and rant and grump! People, places, stories, realizations, mistakes, feeling, thoughts, events.
Sleep is the best escape.
we are just a part of an illusion, that rabbit and hat magic the magicians do, thats what happens with us; except that the poor rabbit doesn't know he is a part of a trick unlike us. Yet we keep contradicting ourselves on the arguement that we see it, feel it , here it just as it is.
And then a certain part says that its just voices and faces.
Tricked, duped, deny , accept.
Fuck it. They are all wrong.
supposed to?
This is the word which creates all the shit. What is suppose to be will never be, its the molding and the fixings and the forceful fittings which make them the way they become.
Knowing about the the do's and the don'ts make it freaky and makes people like us retards.
Intoxication, sleep and tears. An elevated high; are true.
rest everything's a fuckin illusion.
P.S - People are bitter and people are total assholes. It's why sometimes I'm a bit of a hermit. Truthfully speaking though , it's just the outcome of a world which has never treated its occupants with any reasonable sort of care. This is called cause and effect. :|
S.S I owe you a part of it, facebook postings aren't always random time killing tools. ;)
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Disappointed
Just another lazy Saturday evening, was waiting to meet Shruti after a month, she walked in at 6:30, apart from the " So finally how’s college?" update she was waiting to know from me, the most important thing was our excitement to be a part of this show on NDTV tomorrow which was supposed to be a chat show with Abhishek Bachan, :)
My sister walked in the room ; " Sorry but bad news for both of you ; Delhi's on high alert cause of serial blasts and even in GK I, so stop dreaming about Abhishek Bachan now " ( The NDTV office happens to be in GK I)
Our first reaction was obviously a little sad and then a usual five minute discussion on how disgusting it is to terrorize people at the cost of human lives but we went back to what we were talking and that tomorrow's plans will now have to be cancelled, cause just like ours even AB's parents might ask him not to go out of the house ;which was again interrupted by mum's panic phone call since she isn’t in town, and then another and then another by friends and non friends and people who had forgotten my existence for over months; (here I can't resist myself to mention that the ones who really claim to be concerned just forget that I happen to live just 10 minutes away from where these blasts happened) and before we realized, her brother was there to pick her up.
So meeting a friend after really long especially when in that long period of time so many things had happened, inclusive of a series of bomb blasts in our personal lives, this wasn’t how we expected our Saturday evening to be, ( I know, my sense of insensitivity is rather cruel and indifferent )
After walking her to the door, I came back to my room logged on to the internet and saw exactly what I was expecting and had told Shut before she was leaving;
Facebook status messages had changed, very obvious as to how disturbed everyone is because of the blasts.
Life might change for the victims and their families, but for the rest of us, Monday will again be a new start, a few discussions, a few statements of disgust towards this inhuman act, a few changed status messages on FB/orkut/msn/gtalk, a few more blog entries like these by some concerned and some not so concerned people; and that’s it.
I, just feel disappointed, for a wasted weekend and expected curfew at home; for the show tomorrow and for now convincing my friends to bunk college on Monday to come see Wednesday with me or rather go see it alone not being able to spend time with Shruti and do the things we had planned, not getting the expected phone calls and just not being too concerned as to how insensitive I am. :|
My sister walked in the room ; " Sorry but bad news for both of you ; Delhi's on high alert cause of serial blasts and even in GK I, so stop dreaming about Abhishek Bachan now " ( The NDTV office happens to be in GK I)
Our first reaction was obviously a little sad and then a usual five minute discussion on how disgusting it is to terrorize people at the cost of human lives but we went back to what we were talking and that tomorrow's plans will now have to be cancelled, cause just like ours even AB's parents might ask him not to go out of the house ;which was again interrupted by mum's panic phone call since she isn’t in town, and then another and then another by friends and non friends and people who had forgotten my existence for over months; (here I can't resist myself to mention that the ones who really claim to be concerned just forget that I happen to live just 10 minutes away from where these blasts happened) and before we realized, her brother was there to pick her up.
So meeting a friend after really long especially when in that long period of time so many things had happened, inclusive of a series of bomb blasts in our personal lives, this wasn’t how we expected our Saturday evening to be, ( I know, my sense of insensitivity is rather cruel and indifferent )
After walking her to the door, I came back to my room logged on to the internet and saw exactly what I was expecting and had told Shut before she was leaving;
Facebook status messages had changed, very obvious as to how disturbed everyone is because of the blasts.
Life might change for the victims and their families, but for the rest of us, Monday will again be a new start, a few discussions, a few statements of disgust towards this inhuman act, a few changed status messages on FB/orkut/msn/gtalk, a few more blog entries like these by some concerned and some not so concerned people; and that’s it.
I, just feel disappointed, for a wasted weekend and expected curfew at home; for the show tomorrow and for now convincing my friends to bunk college on Monday to come see Wednesday with me or rather go see it alone not being able to spend time with Shruti and do the things we had planned, not getting the expected phone calls and just not being too concerned as to how insensitive I am. :|
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Escaping Pain
The downside of the world is that everybody is telling us what to do.
"This is what’s wrong with the world and this is how to fix it. Just relax, we’re handing you your world on a silver platter and if you destroy it, don’t blame us."
The downside of being a scientist is that you spend your life trying to save the world from the inevitable. The tragedy of being an artist is that you spend your life trying to escape the inevitable.
"Recycle your lightbulbs because otherwise you’re drenching your home with mercury and begging for mutation. Quit smoking because it can cause blockage in your lungs (see also: cancer). Stop buying things made in China because they’re going to pass us in economic efficiency."
Who said that you had to conform to earn your place in the world? We are society. We made these rules and we can change them.
"Being an individual is the second bravest and/or most ignorant thing you can do, the first being having faith in anything."
Where would your fashion magazines and soap-opera stars be if we functioned solely on mitosis?
"Look the same, act the same, perfect people. We’re headed there."
Is it sad when a large portion of the girls in our country are masters of addition and subtraction because of calorie counting?
Fed on strict diets of image with daily doses of inferiority complexes, our youth is convinced that this is what we should be. We need to be a mirage or nobody will love us.
This is a plastic world of Photoshopped false idols and pain relievers. The world has a blurry edge to it. We focus so hard on relieving every prick of pain that we don’t see how we’re stifling growth. Pain has sparked almost all great things (songs, books, movements, speeches, paintings, ideas). People want to change the world because they see pain and suffering. Our sheltered, pill-popping children see none of this. And if they do catch a glimpse, they feel so disconnected that it doesn’t hit home. Apples for breakfast and neurotoxins for lunch. To live a real life, a meaningful life, don’t you need to experience pain? Emotional and physical pain teach us lessons and give us a powerful tool with which to take on the world.
We dont want to take risks, and attainable risks have been shut down long ago, leaving our experience-deprived teenagers stuck with a list of adrenaline rushes ranging from slightly potent to six feet under. If it’s fun, it’s either illegal, dangerous or a little of both. Give it a few years and that flu virus you’r safeguarded against has mutated to the point where it’s a completely new flu, and the bacteria that would have killed it has been wiped out, thanks to the anti-bacterial soap in every dispenser in every public bathroom.
I want to live before living is too lethal to attempt. I want to try things and enjoy things and feel things even if there is a one in 700 chance that I might develop brain cancer.I dont want to be afraid of suffering and pain that I medicate and medicate and medicate the pain away.
I want to suffer to create something truly beautiful.
"This is what’s wrong with the world and this is how to fix it. Just relax, we’re handing you your world on a silver platter and if you destroy it, don’t blame us."
The downside of being a scientist is that you spend your life trying to save the world from the inevitable. The tragedy of being an artist is that you spend your life trying to escape the inevitable.
"Recycle your lightbulbs because otherwise you’re drenching your home with mercury and begging for mutation. Quit smoking because it can cause blockage in your lungs (see also: cancer). Stop buying things made in China because they’re going to pass us in economic efficiency."
Who said that you had to conform to earn your place in the world? We are society. We made these rules and we can change them.
"Being an individual is the second bravest and/or most ignorant thing you can do, the first being having faith in anything."
Where would your fashion magazines and soap-opera stars be if we functioned solely on mitosis?
"Look the same, act the same, perfect people. We’re headed there."
Is it sad when a large portion of the girls in our country are masters of addition and subtraction because of calorie counting?
Fed on strict diets of image with daily doses of inferiority complexes, our youth is convinced that this is what we should be. We need to be a mirage or nobody will love us.
This is a plastic world of Photoshopped false idols and pain relievers. The world has a blurry edge to it. We focus so hard on relieving every prick of pain that we don’t see how we’re stifling growth. Pain has sparked almost all great things (songs, books, movements, speeches, paintings, ideas). People want to change the world because they see pain and suffering. Our sheltered, pill-popping children see none of this. And if they do catch a glimpse, they feel so disconnected that it doesn’t hit home. Apples for breakfast and neurotoxins for lunch. To live a real life, a meaningful life, don’t you need to experience pain? Emotional and physical pain teach us lessons and give us a powerful tool with which to take on the world.
We dont want to take risks, and attainable risks have been shut down long ago, leaving our experience-deprived teenagers stuck with a list of adrenaline rushes ranging from slightly potent to six feet under. If it’s fun, it’s either illegal, dangerous or a little of both. Give it a few years and that flu virus you’r safeguarded against has mutated to the point where it’s a completely new flu, and the bacteria that would have killed it has been wiped out, thanks to the anti-bacterial soap in every dispenser in every public bathroom.
I want to live before living is too lethal to attempt. I want to try things and enjoy things and feel things even if there is a one in 700 chance that I might develop brain cancer.I dont want to be afraid of suffering and pain that I medicate and medicate and medicate the pain away.
I want to suffer to create something truly beautiful.
Sunday, July 6, 2008
Red
..is the only colour (read: favourite colour) which couldnt find a place in the new layout. Sorry Red, you are reserved for better things maybe but I love you equally and also maybe more and thats the reason you are not here ;because you can never share the same space as anything else.
I'm not drunk. Im just in an extremely nice mood and I tend to sound extremely silly when I am in that mood.
BTW, I just saw 1002 views. It took a year , nice Im not that bad at entertaining people, but Im wondering, why would anyone still be reading this post.
If you still have continued reading , I think its one of those days for you as well, when you are in one of those moods, I know it feels great. Stop smiling.
Ah.. I know even if you werent similing you are smiling now.
Thanks , I know I made you smile and it feels great; you can drop in a thanks in the comments below, Its been long I dont get as much comments as I used to earlier. Not here , not on FB , not even on orkut. Imagine no scrap since a week. Oh yes I got two today only coz I have a new ID.
Well, this is the most random post ever.
And It will never be repeated. Even if it is..hello? Its my blog, I'll write whatever shit I want.
P.S- Thanks Billo, for the blog title colour. :D
I'm not drunk. Im just in an extremely nice mood and I tend to sound extremely silly when I am in that mood.
BTW, I just saw 1002 views. It took a year , nice Im not that bad at entertaining people, but Im wondering, why would anyone still be reading this post.
If you still have continued reading , I think its one of those days for you as well, when you are in one of those moods, I know it feels great. Stop smiling.
Ah.. I know even if you werent similing you are smiling now.
Thanks , I know I made you smile and it feels great; you can drop in a thanks in the comments below, Its been long I dont get as much comments as I used to earlier. Not here , not on FB , not even on orkut. Imagine no scrap since a week. Oh yes I got two today only coz I have a new ID.
Well, this is the most random post ever.
And It will never be repeated. Even if it is..hello? Its my blog, I'll write whatever shit I want.
P.S- Thanks Billo, for the blog title colour. :D
Saturday, July 5, 2008
The Summer of '08
..has changed my life in a way I never thought it would.
Though ever since since school I looked as July as a new year cause the end of summer holidays meant alot of changes. People going away to colleges, new sets of friends, a new class. Alot changed in every July I have lived; entry and exit of people being the *most* important phenomena which controls the changes here.
Looking forward to another roller coaster.
Though ever since since school I looked as July as a new year cause the end of summer holidays meant alot of changes. People going away to colleges, new sets of friends, a new class. Alot changed in every July I have lived; entry and exit of people being the *most* important phenomena which controls the changes here.
Looking forward to another roller coaster.
Monday, June 23, 2008
Factors Controlling Life
When we think about life as a whole, it can be named in probably 'n' number of ways,
some call it a book, a story, struggle, a bed of roses (yup don't be shocked there are many many many people still sleeping )
But to think of it, it all comes down to a series of events.
These events test our patience, skills, thought process. Gives us lessons in the end and sometimes take away our false notions.
We call life unfair a lot of times - blame people , luck and more often than not even destiny. Sometimes everything is done to achieve a certain thing or reach a certain point and bam! everything crumbles down, nobody can answer why.
But come to think of it there are just three factors which rule life.
Yes, just three!
Whatever I wrote above could be fucking shit and no part of it might make sense , but those three factors always will.
Desires (Including emotional attachment), Health and Natural Disasters.
Whatever happens in life is because of the above three things, whatever we do are driven by desires, whatever comes in between that can be either another desire or a person (attachment) a certain accident (Natural Disaster) or if we aren't physically capable of doing it.
If these three factors are in complete control one can even predict their own future.
For instance, I know that tomorrow at 2 p.m I have to go for lunch with a friend, I predicted my own future, only these three factors can control me. Perhaps, I cannot predict about maybe what I'd be doing exactly one month from now because I don't know what circumstances I'd be in, only of course if I'm in complete control of my 'factors'.
To talk about them seperately; Desires are something which aren't certainly bad. Everything one wants in life, every position one wants to reach, be it an exam, a job, a car, a certain person; is because of desires. The reason to live probably is to make the correct choices and fulfill those desires. Now the way by which one is achieving it , the amount of importance which is being given, THAT can certainly be very very very bad at times.
Controlling desires isn't a very easy task though, but isn't something as difficult as rocket science :)
This is infact the most important and the most difficult thing to control.The reason for everything right and everything wrong we do is because of them. The reason why it's difficult to get over a certain mishap in life and further fuck everything else is also because of them.
The second thing is health, how much we live and how we live is always in ones own hand. Being fit, take care of what one does so that some major medical ailment doesn't hit which restrains from leading a normal life; isn't something all of us think about much. Till of course it hits us.
Whatever we want to do in life somewhere is tested by our capabilities, from something as seemingly easy as staying up all night to complete a certain project, or working really hard at work to finish a deadline, to fucking adventure sports and a hell lot more depend on the physical fitness.
Even a simple day out with friends can become tiresome for an unhealthy person.
The third factor, natural calamities. These are things which we just do not have any control on. But the number of people it has control on is less, a person has a 2/100 probability of dying because of an earthquake/volcano/tsunami. If its about road accidents and falling off from a cliff, it again is because of lack of presence of mind and can be controlled.
Yeah, It's extremely difficult to have an extremely undoubted hold on them. But instead of depending on things which are do not even play much role and are given undue attention, its better to focus on the right issues. More often than not we spend time and energy correcting the wrong issues altogether.
[P.S- I really want to know the validity of this theory, any argument which would prove it wrong is welcome.]
some call it a book, a story, struggle, a bed of roses (yup don't be shocked there are many many many people still sleeping )
But to think of it, it all comes down to a series of events.
These events test our patience, skills, thought process. Gives us lessons in the end and sometimes take away our false notions.
We call life unfair a lot of times - blame people , luck and more often than not even destiny. Sometimes everything is done to achieve a certain thing or reach a certain point and bam! everything crumbles down, nobody can answer why.
But come to think of it there are just three factors which rule life.
Yes, just three!
Whatever I wrote above could be fucking shit and no part of it might make sense , but those three factors always will.
Desires (Including emotional attachment), Health and Natural Disasters.
Whatever happens in life is because of the above three things, whatever we do are driven by desires, whatever comes in between that can be either another desire or a person (attachment) a certain accident (Natural Disaster) or if we aren't physically capable of doing it.
If these three factors are in complete control one can even predict their own future.
For instance, I know that tomorrow at 2 p.m I have to go for lunch with a friend, I predicted my own future, only these three factors can control me. Perhaps, I cannot predict about maybe what I'd be doing exactly one month from now because I don't know what circumstances I'd be in, only of course if I'm in complete control of my 'factors'.
To talk about them seperately; Desires are something which aren't certainly bad. Everything one wants in life, every position one wants to reach, be it an exam, a job, a car, a certain person; is because of desires. The reason to live probably is to make the correct choices and fulfill those desires. Now the way by which one is achieving it , the amount of importance which is being given, THAT can certainly be very very very bad at times.
Controlling desires isn't a very easy task though, but isn't something as difficult as rocket science :)
This is infact the most important and the most difficult thing to control.The reason for everything right and everything wrong we do is because of them. The reason why it's difficult to get over a certain mishap in life and further fuck everything else is also because of them.
The second thing is health, how much we live and how we live is always in ones own hand. Being fit, take care of what one does so that some major medical ailment doesn't hit which restrains from leading a normal life; isn't something all of us think about much. Till of course it hits us.
Whatever we want to do in life somewhere is tested by our capabilities, from something as seemingly easy as staying up all night to complete a certain project, or working really hard at work to finish a deadline, to fucking adventure sports and a hell lot more depend on the physical fitness.
Even a simple day out with friends can become tiresome for an unhealthy person.
The third factor, natural calamities. These are things which we just do not have any control on. But the number of people it has control on is less, a person has a 2/100 probability of dying because of an earthquake/volcano/tsunami. If its about road accidents and falling off from a cliff, it again is because of lack of presence of mind and can be controlled.
Yeah, It's extremely difficult to have an extremely undoubted hold on them. But instead of depending on things which are do not even play much role and are given undue attention, its better to focus on the right issues. More often than not we spend time and energy correcting the wrong issues altogether.
[P.S- I really want to know the validity of this theory, any argument which would prove it wrong is welcome.]
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Seeing Other People
I always wonder what other people are thinking about me and always wish that I could read minds.
It's so difficult to get into someone's mind and try to know the psyche of the person; yet easy to classify them in broad catagories.Certain kind of people change for that moment when only around certain kind of people and then they are back to the way they were around you. They will act all sophisticated while with the 'sophisticated' group of people, very cool and chilled out while in that certain group; etc. Does that mean faking? or its simply being smart to gel with everyone. And in that process more often than not they themselves forget who they are, Everyone has a different 'face' for different sets of people and situations. There is nothing really constant about any of them. Nobody can claim to know eveyrthing about someone, its just humanly impossible; we can know only what we are told and what we see; and what we see is only what the other person wants us to see.
Then there is always a difference between what one says and does, its so easy to tell someone how to behave in certain situations and what to do; but when it comes to their ownself everything is conveniently forgotten that too supported with a justifiable reason; which again is sometimes just a game of words.
People are what they are as they want to be seen and as we want to see them.
Its all a web; does it mean everyone is just putting up a certain face; and what I know of them is all just a certain dimension of them?
Maybe ; maybe not.
It's so difficult to get into someone's mind and try to know the psyche of the person; yet easy to classify them in broad catagories.Certain kind of people change for that moment when only around certain kind of people and then they are back to the way they were around you. They will act all sophisticated while with the 'sophisticated' group of people, very cool and chilled out while in that certain group; etc. Does that mean faking? or its simply being smart to gel with everyone. And in that process more often than not they themselves forget who they are, Everyone has a different 'face' for different sets of people and situations. There is nothing really constant about any of them. Nobody can claim to know eveyrthing about someone, its just humanly impossible; we can know only what we are told and what we see; and what we see is only what the other person wants us to see.
Then there is always a difference between what one says and does, its so easy to tell someone how to behave in certain situations and what to do; but when it comes to their ownself everything is conveniently forgotten that too supported with a justifiable reason; which again is sometimes just a game of words.
People are what they are as they want to be seen and as we want to see them.
Its all a web; does it mean everyone is just putting up a certain face; and what I know of them is all just a certain dimension of them?
Maybe ; maybe not.
Restart
In between exams and results and languishing at home since the past 6 months and another one and a half to come I think my mind has stopped working completely; so instead of keeping a dead blog I deleted it completely , one of the reasons also being I had started disliking the name perfectionism kills.
So here I am, starting all over again. In every sense of the word.
So here I am, starting all over again. In every sense of the word.
Friday, June 13, 2008
I Will Be a Story
The day began as a mirage.
Dressed in the garb of a wise king,
I stumble into the desert searching for stories
in the sand.
I find no realism in the sun.
Illusion
cannot be blamed on transitory light. It is my eyes
which censor the spectrum of time.
Recycling miracles,
With a dangerous emptiness, the wind
bellows and encompasses the earth. sagging dunes
translate moments. They know time well.
Tonight it's drafty and dark.
While sweeping up our my, I wonder
if the wind celebrates itself
or if the sky and the oceans
honor it and how.
“Tell me I am like the sand. Tell me
I am a ruptured star – the grit
of an ancient supernova,
crumbled
&
still
shimmering.
Tell me when I settle
the wind will swipe me up and
scatter me
again.”
This makes no sense
but yet it does.
It's all so real from the real perspective.
Dressed in the garb of a wise king,
I stumble into the desert searching for stories
in the sand.
I find no realism in the sun.
Illusion
cannot be blamed on transitory light. It is my eyes
which censor the spectrum of time.
Recycling miracles,
With a dangerous emptiness, the wind
bellows and encompasses the earth. sagging dunes
translate moments. They know time well.
Tonight it's drafty and dark.
While sweeping up our my, I wonder
if the wind celebrates itself
or if the sky and the oceans
honor it and how.
“Tell me I am like the sand. Tell me
I am a ruptured star – the grit
of an ancient supernova,
crumbled
&
still
shimmering.
Tell me when I settle
the wind will swipe me up and
scatter me
again.”
This makes no sense
but yet it does.
It's all so real from the real perspective.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)