Not exactly an article, just a passing thought. It's almost the end of the year and the last five months of my life have gone by in a flash. And in all this time, the word I have used, spoken, thought, felt most often, closest to my state of mind and emotions, has been 'frustrated'!
(I don't need these walls around me!!) Pun on round brackets intended.
Like I've written before, just staying alone in my room makes me feel incarcerated. Life is depressing enough thanks to the term end exams. It all feels so strongly negative, I think it might be suicidal. But I'm really happy and excited that I'll finally be going home for a week, a REAL vacation!! Not the two day leaves, read saturday-sunday which would be holidays anyway, sometimes interspersed with programs and conferences, they give us and then ask "So you are back after a refreshing break?" Looking forward to my purposeless roaming around Bombay :D, and catching up with friends, et al.
So now I feel suicidal and ecstatic intermittently, sometimes at the same time. Well, I guess that's the life of a first year student in IIM A. Probably can't help it. Wow! What a life!
Friday, December 26, 2008
Monday, December 22, 2008
blaze
I have recently discovered something I love doing. Burning paper.
I love the smell of paper as it turns to ash. I love the thin line of golden flame as it moves closer to your hand. Annihilating the wavering paper. A frame of gray blue, like in fairy tales. And smoldering paper. Rushing to the other edge. Flashing across. Flames dancing around, teasing, playing. And then the warm, lingering, all-comforting, enveloping scent.
I tried it first on a chilly morning. With a paper I had to burn, to save my grace.
Then on a cold winter night. The leftovers of my resumes. :P I turned a corner of my room into a sort of fireplace. :D I can still smell the beautiful, warm fragrance. It somehow comforts me. Eases my mind. Soothes my soul. I am yet to discover why I love it so much. Why it is slowly obsessing me. Maybe I will think later and find out.
:)
I love the smell of paper as it turns to ash. I love the thin line of golden flame as it moves closer to your hand. Annihilating the wavering paper. A frame of gray blue, like in fairy tales. And smoldering paper. Rushing to the other edge. Flashing across. Flames dancing around, teasing, playing. And then the warm, lingering, all-comforting, enveloping scent.
I tried it first on a chilly morning. With a paper I had to burn, to save my grace.
Then on a cold winter night. The leftovers of my resumes. :P I turned a corner of my room into a sort of fireplace. :D I can still smell the beautiful, warm fragrance. It somehow comforts me. Eases my mind. Soothes my soul. I am yet to discover why I love it so much. Why it is slowly obsessing me. Maybe I will think later and find out.
:)
Friday, December 19, 2008
A love affair !
Got nothing better to do on a thursday night. Or might be friday. Cant remember and cant really be bothered. But since I'm sitting so jobless in my room right now, I thought I might as well make some good use of my time and try to think a bit and put that down. Cant trust myself to remember what I've been thinking ;) Since I'm listening to some random music, that's what I'd like to reflect on :)
It's been eleven years since I fell in love with music. And there hasn't been a day when I havn't turned to it for solace, comfort, to lighten my mood or just for entertainment. I've heard so much crap in all this time. Rock all through the ages and places, pop like girl bands and boy bands, punk rock and death metal, from some downright nonsensical Bollywood stuff to Hindustani classical and carnatic, from Pakistani pop, rock, sufi and semi classical to Arabic, Turkish and Lebanese pop, from Persian classical and metal to Indonesian and Korean conteporary, from Afghan to Spanish and Russian, trance, lounge, new age, regional Indian music, you name it! I did experiment with hiphop and rap and grew to detest it. Sincere apologies to the fans! Have also developed a strange fondness for Indian and Paki underground bands, including tracking their progress charts.
And what do I say about heavy metal! It leaves me in a crazy, induced, incomprehensible, all-forgetful trance. Makes me peaceful, everything around pure and serene all over again. It isn't just music, it's the end to every good or bad thing everywhere, it's every part of me.
My taste in music got all varied somewhere in the middle of my engineering when I used to bunk college and stay home to download music. I guess I have a Jal concert to thank for that! It was the perfect other activity I could pursue during my study leave. :D I remember downloading about 5-6 GB of music in my BE Project Lab, driving a lot of people mad in the process. :P I have absolutely no regrets in this matter! I doubt I could have learnt anything worthwhile by indulging in knowledge gaining pursuits. Instead I discovered a passion and a pleasure, and a trustworthy mate for all of life. Met a lot of amazing music lovers from all over the world. :)
So why is it that I like music so much, and listen to it 24x7 irrespective of whatever else I am doing, be it sleeping, working, studying. I guess it helps me relax, forget everything else, lose myself entirely, absolutely, supremely in its beauty. It weaves magic for me, somehow always managing to comfort me when I'm worried, tensed or scared, ease my mind, even working as a sleeping pill. Charms. It brings home ecstasy, it gives me a way to celebrate. Captivates. A psuedo excuse for elation. Conquers all other emotion. Enchants. A road filled with ecstasy. Allures. It lets me live. Fascinates. Survive in insanity. In apprehension, insecurity, tears, waves of time. A love, my life, my world. I guess I'll always be crazy about music.
:)
Beguiled. Mesmerized. Enthralled.
It's been eleven years since I fell in love with music. And there hasn't been a day when I havn't turned to it for solace, comfort, to lighten my mood or just for entertainment. I've heard so much crap in all this time. Rock all through the ages and places, pop like girl bands and boy bands, punk rock and death metal, from some downright nonsensical Bollywood stuff to Hindustani classical and carnatic, from Pakistani pop, rock, sufi and semi classical to Arabic, Turkish and Lebanese pop, from Persian classical and metal to Indonesian and Korean conteporary, from Afghan to Spanish and Russian, trance, lounge, new age, regional Indian music, you name it! I did experiment with hiphop and rap and grew to detest it. Sincere apologies to the fans! Have also developed a strange fondness for Indian and Paki underground bands, including tracking their progress charts.
And what do I say about heavy metal! It leaves me in a crazy, induced, incomprehensible, all-forgetful trance. Makes me peaceful, everything around pure and serene all over again. It isn't just music, it's the end to every good or bad thing everywhere, it's every part of me.
My taste in music got all varied somewhere in the middle of my engineering when I used to bunk college and stay home to download music. I guess I have a Jal concert to thank for that! It was the perfect other activity I could pursue during my study leave. :D I remember downloading about 5-6 GB of music in my BE Project Lab, driving a lot of people mad in the process. :P I have absolutely no regrets in this matter! I doubt I could have learnt anything worthwhile by indulging in knowledge gaining pursuits. Instead I discovered a passion and a pleasure, and a trustworthy mate for all of life. Met a lot of amazing music lovers from all over the world. :)
So why is it that I like music so much, and listen to it 24x7 irrespective of whatever else I am doing, be it sleeping, working, studying. I guess it helps me relax, forget everything else, lose myself entirely, absolutely, supremely in its beauty. It weaves magic for me, somehow always managing to comfort me when I'm worried, tensed or scared, ease my mind, even working as a sleeping pill. Charms. It brings home ecstasy, it gives me a way to celebrate. Captivates. A psuedo excuse for elation. Conquers all other emotion. Enchants. A road filled with ecstasy. Allures. It lets me live. Fascinates. Survive in insanity. In apprehension, insecurity, tears, waves of time. A love, my life, my world. I guess I'll always be crazy about music.
:)
Beguiled. Mesmerized. Enthralled.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
The Pseudo Religious
I have been thinking of writing something on religion for ages. So here's penning down a few thoughts on a topic that is really close to my heart. One thing that enthuses me, one thought that lets me think about everything else, one passion that keeps me going, living, feeling. A disclaimer at the very offset. All thoughts are completely my own and not to be held against or argued on with anyone except me. :)
Let's assume for a second that we do not know what defines religion. The instant thought that strikes me is that it is a way of life. A mode of thinking. A way to act, to behave with others, to talk, share and celebrate. A time to wake up, to eat, sleep and pray. A place to sit, and one to visit during your holidays. It is a group of people leading their lives in a like manner, having strangely identical lifestyles, sharing beliefs and some ambitions. Most importantly, having comparable thought processes, values, desires and dislikes.
But that is not how religion is viewed in the current context. Its boundaries have narrowed down, the group has turned more into a cult. With a motive stronger than any other to send a prayer to vacuum or stone. In a few unfortunate cases, one can even identify gangs that seek to preach and propagate but not to listen or adopt, to terrorize and spread fear and repetitiveness, to bind and rule in darkness.
Power corrupts, and religion is a powerful tool in the hands of those who lead and control. They pave the way, they show us the route, but they leave us still craving for a sign of the linkage with the crude reality of the world or the eternal truth. A few objections, some denials, and those who dare to oppose are ostracized. Negating our identities, falsifying our presence, leaving us wondering about our beliefs and loyalties. Always surrounded by a maze of words, prying and trying to replace our soul's thoughts. They want their words to turn into our thoughts, to petrify, to turn into stone. Do we have to respect them? Must they always be revered? Why the holy pedestal under their feet and the dirty slippers under ours?
Fortunately or unfortunately, an individual's religion forms a significant part of his identity. Why then must it so happen that every baby has a religion before he has a name, before he has learnt the language of the world. Religion is an ancient concept, complicated and perfected by the wisdom and understanding of centuries. It takes a lifetime to comprehend it, or maybe even more, and an eternity to master it. There are myriad ideologies, beliefs, interpretations associated with every single religion. It does not have to hold true that a person born into a religion identifies with his faith completely. His way of thinking and believing might be more inclined towards the beliefs of another religion. This raises a question in my mind. Would it be unfair to say that an individual should be given the choice to select his own faith, or none at all.
Let religion not be decided by when and where an individual was born but rather by the choices his personality is likely to make. It is my belief that a child must not be judged at an early stage of his life. Rather he should be given sufficient time to study and understand what the wise gurus of the past had to say or preach and how his mind aligns with those ideologies. Only when he is absolutely convinced about the veracity of a particular philosophy and his desire to achieve what is expected of him, would he be in the right position to make an informed decision about the religion he wishes to follow for the rest of his life.
Similarly, if a person finds it difficult to identify with any faith or with the entire concept of religion, he should have complete freedom to be neutral or irreligious. There is no logic behind forcing people to accept or convert to another religion just for the sake of increasing its numbers. When the concept is as abstract and idealistic as religion, colossal armies can do nothing to win the war. Power comes not merely by massive numbers, but by the authenticity, potency and simplicity of ideas. I believe it makes more intellectual sense to incorporate those people within a religion who can take the faith forward and make astute contributions that can be handed down the generations rather than include those who shun peace and turn the group into a violent mob.
The numerous bomb blasts all over India have incensed its citizens. There are those who would argue that terrorists must be hanged or shot at first sight. In short, they must be ruthlessly dealt with or as I may put it, violence must be dealt with violence. I beg to differ on this. A terrorist’s ideology is unique. The individual would generally have been brainwashed into thinking that by performing an activity such as planting a bomb, he is servicing Allah and thereby gaining entry into the gardens of the Lord. He would have been promised that a beautiful and healthy after life awaits him for all eternity. He would have been blinded into believing that he would not have to face the tribulations and pain that the wretched earth has to offer anymore, but could spend the rest of his time in spiritual pursuits, while always in the company of the mighty Lord and the beautiful maidens.
When a potential terrorist is convinced that what he is doing is not merely right but holy and desirable too, then killing such a person holds no meaning. Publicizing the death could possibly have the undesirable effect of motivating other young suicide bombers rather than discouraging them. Gold dust is what it would be for them, as they look forward to and even wish for death and ultimately an union with Heaven. As history has shown, eliminating criminals is not the perfect way to solve crime. For there would always be those more than willing to replace them, and they would be greater in number.
It is not untrue that understanding is the first step to acceptance and acceptance alone can lead to recovery. We would not be senseless if we were to try and understand the philosophy that drives the terrorist and then alter it. Rather than branding the offenders as belonging to a separate sect, nourishing an accepting sort of mentality towards them would make a considerable difference. The reasons for their discontent and the feeling of having been wronged stem primarily from their perception of being cut off from society, its happiness and progress. Would we be repeating a mistake if we were to treat them as an altogether diverse species who have notions and emotions very varied from the general flow that runs through society.
After all, we all arrived at the earth in the same way, molded into different life forms over the years owing to the environment and the elders who taught us. The undesirable milieu a person is placed in is through no fault of his own. This holds true for the vast majority of the young and the innocent being swept off their feet. For those who can think for themselves and yet choose to think and act differently, the crime of refusing peace weighs heavy on their shoulders. The world must be wary of them. And yet, they would be less powerful without the sightless behind them.
I have witnessed a string of serial bomb blasts in my city and have become used to the idea of it happening over and over again. We fear for our lives and those of own, we stay in the safety of our homes for a day and then life goes on as usual. They have numbed us, first out of fright, despair and helplessness, then out of a powerlessness which knew that we were vulnerable and would always remain so, and wished to make it a part, albeit undesirable, of our lives because nothing waits or stops here. Such is the resilience we have unwittingly developed. These events have invited strong criticism, heated debates and strangely emotional calls for action. A singular attack on USA drew the strongest yet military response, arguably at the whim of a minority faction. Incidents that were morally questionable took place, changing the course of history forever.
To bring out a stark contrast, less thought is given to such adversities when they take place in less powerful nations, even if they are more frequent and occur in greater intensity. Losing a friend or family member, seeing people from your own village incapacitated beyond a working life or maddened beyond grief are barely uncommon sights. Brought down to your knees, compelled to obey, forced through sorrow and misery just because you care to love and fear for your soul's own. Tried and tested, they give up their own virtues and hopes, abide by what is preached and made into law by the self instilled leaders. There is not a human there who has never known blood and tears, depravity and severance.
Cut off from the rest of the developed world, still living in a sort of medieval period, they have little to look forward to and hope for. Young men and women recognize the narrow opportunities. But they do not restrict their vision or kill hope. They are open to new ideas. They often look up to the rest of the world in awe and would readily embrace a different lifestyle given a chance. They are like the rest of us in that. Any other youth on the street. Interested in building careers, listening to stories, watching movies. Lovers of music and cricket. Desirous of money and fame. Passionate about playing, talking, enjoying. Insecure as teenagers and growing into adults, dreaming, serenading. They resemble us in that, in nurturing ambitions and reveries, in feeling joy and pain, in reading, talking, appearing, being. With slight differences. Expected. Not wildly wished away.
It is a tiny flick that is all it takes to shape their lives this way or that. And the undesirable has its effect. It wins only because of its proximity. Because it is easier to influence when you face them, without any force or motivation to tantalize them towards a different path of life. That is all I believe we need to change. To tackle the problem at the grass root level. It is a start, maybe an imperfect one, but a beginning nevertheless. A change in my belief and yours, in our behavior, translating into a change in their existence. There is no dearth of channels we could use to communicate across the globe. The young and old, of similar faiths, lifestyles, desires, hobbies, choices, with the same wish and dream. We could create a beautiful life, a love, a world of strength and tranquility. And we would not have to wait for them to come and annihilate our perfect lives. And we could build our power together thus. In this imperfection, empathy, peace, beauty.
The night's a curtain. It shields our vision. Crawling in the mud of insularity. A wisp of wind. It makes the blind fly. The night screams for release, it begs for mercy. To be ripped off. The mind needs but a voice and freedom, the vision can never be obscured. It demands punishment, that of every word that ever mutilated a thought, but never could kill it. The night cries for death, that of every instance which replaces love with god, humanity with insanity, kindness with brutality. So it evolves.
Let's assume for a second that we do not know what defines religion. The instant thought that strikes me is that it is a way of life. A mode of thinking. A way to act, to behave with others, to talk, share and celebrate. A time to wake up, to eat, sleep and pray. A place to sit, and one to visit during your holidays. It is a group of people leading their lives in a like manner, having strangely identical lifestyles, sharing beliefs and some ambitions. Most importantly, having comparable thought processes, values, desires and dislikes.
But that is not how religion is viewed in the current context. Its boundaries have narrowed down, the group has turned more into a cult. With a motive stronger than any other to send a prayer to vacuum or stone. In a few unfortunate cases, one can even identify gangs that seek to preach and propagate but not to listen or adopt, to terrorize and spread fear and repetitiveness, to bind and rule in darkness.
Power corrupts, and religion is a powerful tool in the hands of those who lead and control. They pave the way, they show us the route, but they leave us still craving for a sign of the linkage with the crude reality of the world or the eternal truth. A few objections, some denials, and those who dare to oppose are ostracized. Negating our identities, falsifying our presence, leaving us wondering about our beliefs and loyalties. Always surrounded by a maze of words, prying and trying to replace our soul's thoughts. They want their words to turn into our thoughts, to petrify, to turn into stone. Do we have to respect them? Must they always be revered? Why the holy pedestal under their feet and the dirty slippers under ours?
Fortunately or unfortunately, an individual's religion forms a significant part of his identity. Why then must it so happen that every baby has a religion before he has a name, before he has learnt the language of the world. Religion is an ancient concept, complicated and perfected by the wisdom and understanding of centuries. It takes a lifetime to comprehend it, or maybe even more, and an eternity to master it. There are myriad ideologies, beliefs, interpretations associated with every single religion. It does not have to hold true that a person born into a religion identifies with his faith completely. His way of thinking and believing might be more inclined towards the beliefs of another religion. This raises a question in my mind. Would it be unfair to say that an individual should be given the choice to select his own faith, or none at all.
Let religion not be decided by when and where an individual was born but rather by the choices his personality is likely to make. It is my belief that a child must not be judged at an early stage of his life. Rather he should be given sufficient time to study and understand what the wise gurus of the past had to say or preach and how his mind aligns with those ideologies. Only when he is absolutely convinced about the veracity of a particular philosophy and his desire to achieve what is expected of him, would he be in the right position to make an informed decision about the religion he wishes to follow for the rest of his life.
Similarly, if a person finds it difficult to identify with any faith or with the entire concept of religion, he should have complete freedom to be neutral or irreligious. There is no logic behind forcing people to accept or convert to another religion just for the sake of increasing its numbers. When the concept is as abstract and idealistic as religion, colossal armies can do nothing to win the war. Power comes not merely by massive numbers, but by the authenticity, potency and simplicity of ideas. I believe it makes more intellectual sense to incorporate those people within a religion who can take the faith forward and make astute contributions that can be handed down the generations rather than include those who shun peace and turn the group into a violent mob.
The numerous bomb blasts all over India have incensed its citizens. There are those who would argue that terrorists must be hanged or shot at first sight. In short, they must be ruthlessly dealt with or as I may put it, violence must be dealt with violence. I beg to differ on this. A terrorist’s ideology is unique. The individual would generally have been brainwashed into thinking that by performing an activity such as planting a bomb, he is servicing Allah and thereby gaining entry into the gardens of the Lord. He would have been promised that a beautiful and healthy after life awaits him for all eternity. He would have been blinded into believing that he would not have to face the tribulations and pain that the wretched earth has to offer anymore, but could spend the rest of his time in spiritual pursuits, while always in the company of the mighty Lord and the beautiful maidens.
When a potential terrorist is convinced that what he is doing is not merely right but holy and desirable too, then killing such a person holds no meaning. Publicizing the death could possibly have the undesirable effect of motivating other young suicide bombers rather than discouraging them. Gold dust is what it would be for them, as they look forward to and even wish for death and ultimately an union with Heaven. As history has shown, eliminating criminals is not the perfect way to solve crime. For there would always be those more than willing to replace them, and they would be greater in number.
It is not untrue that understanding is the first step to acceptance and acceptance alone can lead to recovery. We would not be senseless if we were to try and understand the philosophy that drives the terrorist and then alter it. Rather than branding the offenders as belonging to a separate sect, nourishing an accepting sort of mentality towards them would make a considerable difference. The reasons for their discontent and the feeling of having been wronged stem primarily from their perception of being cut off from society, its happiness and progress. Would we be repeating a mistake if we were to treat them as an altogether diverse species who have notions and emotions very varied from the general flow that runs through society.
After all, we all arrived at the earth in the same way, molded into different life forms over the years owing to the environment and the elders who taught us. The undesirable milieu a person is placed in is through no fault of his own. This holds true for the vast majority of the young and the innocent being swept off their feet. For those who can think for themselves and yet choose to think and act differently, the crime of refusing peace weighs heavy on their shoulders. The world must be wary of them. And yet, they would be less powerful without the sightless behind them.
I have witnessed a string of serial bomb blasts in my city and have become used to the idea of it happening over and over again. We fear for our lives and those of own, we stay in the safety of our homes for a day and then life goes on as usual. They have numbed us, first out of fright, despair and helplessness, then out of a powerlessness which knew that we were vulnerable and would always remain so, and wished to make it a part, albeit undesirable, of our lives because nothing waits or stops here. Such is the resilience we have unwittingly developed. These events have invited strong criticism, heated debates and strangely emotional calls for action. A singular attack on USA drew the strongest yet military response, arguably at the whim of a minority faction. Incidents that were morally questionable took place, changing the course of history forever.
To bring out a stark contrast, less thought is given to such adversities when they take place in less powerful nations, even if they are more frequent and occur in greater intensity. Losing a friend or family member, seeing people from your own village incapacitated beyond a working life or maddened beyond grief are barely uncommon sights. Brought down to your knees, compelled to obey, forced through sorrow and misery just because you care to love and fear for your soul's own. Tried and tested, they give up their own virtues and hopes, abide by what is preached and made into law by the self instilled leaders. There is not a human there who has never known blood and tears, depravity and severance.
Cut off from the rest of the developed world, still living in a sort of medieval period, they have little to look forward to and hope for. Young men and women recognize the narrow opportunities. But they do not restrict their vision or kill hope. They are open to new ideas. They often look up to the rest of the world in awe and would readily embrace a different lifestyle given a chance. They are like the rest of us in that. Any other youth on the street. Interested in building careers, listening to stories, watching movies. Lovers of music and cricket. Desirous of money and fame. Passionate about playing, talking, enjoying. Insecure as teenagers and growing into adults, dreaming, serenading. They resemble us in that, in nurturing ambitions and reveries, in feeling joy and pain, in reading, talking, appearing, being. With slight differences. Expected. Not wildly wished away.
It is a tiny flick that is all it takes to shape their lives this way or that. And the undesirable has its effect. It wins only because of its proximity. Because it is easier to influence when you face them, without any force or motivation to tantalize them towards a different path of life. That is all I believe we need to change. To tackle the problem at the grass root level. It is a start, maybe an imperfect one, but a beginning nevertheless. A change in my belief and yours, in our behavior, translating into a change in their existence. There is no dearth of channels we could use to communicate across the globe. The young and old, of similar faiths, lifestyles, desires, hobbies, choices, with the same wish and dream. We could create a beautiful life, a love, a world of strength and tranquility. And we would not have to wait for them to come and annihilate our perfect lives. And we could build our power together thus. In this imperfection, empathy, peace, beauty.
The night's a curtain. It shields our vision. Crawling in the mud of insularity. A wisp of wind. It makes the blind fly. The night screams for release, it begs for mercy. To be ripped off. The mind needs but a voice and freedom, the vision can never be obscured. It demands punishment, that of every word that ever mutilated a thought, but never could kill it. The night cries for death, that of every instance which replaces love with god, humanity with insanity, kindness with brutality. So it evolves.
Monday, December 8, 2008
losing
A question nags at me. Constantly, wholly, disturbingly so. It pulls my spirits down, it plucks at every fibre of joy and hope within me. I was perfectly happy yesterday. The day shone bright and the night was tempting. So what happened to me all of a sudden. Is it about not being able to control my mood again? Or is it that nothing seems to be going right. Nothing even remotely positive. While all around me I see joyful faces. Do they see the same in me and wonder similarly?
It can't have anything to do with at least two of those three "things". Because they have always been this way for me. I have always lived on the borderline here. And I just don't care much about academics anyway. So what, then? The fact that my brother refused to talk to me or even come and meet me, or that I could not give enough time to my parents while they were here and my mom was kind of sad when she left. Maybe that was a sort of instigator.
But the real question is something else. Deep within me, it spreads its tentacles searching desperately for an answer, screaming madly for release. Why is it that when you have something, you don't want it, and the only time you realize you want it so much is much later when you don't have it anymore...
There have been so many situations in the past which exemplified this thought. And I haven't found an answer to it yet. Or an exception. I haven't even learnt to recognize them as and when they arise to avoid depressed musings as these in the future. There have been times when I have held gems with my fingers, never knowing them for what they were or using them as I should have. Only to lose them to time like you do all things. Or fate. And then wishing for them later, my heart craving for the pure ecstasy I could have had. Always wondering what I did wrong.
Why does the same thing happen to me over and over again. Heaven knows I should have learnt by now. I didn't want to blame myself for everything, but I did, and I don't want to now. Maybe it's just the way things are meant to be. Maybe it's the course my life was meant to take. The curse my destiny was meant to have. Makes me wonder when, if ever, it will lift and I will be able to lead a normal happy life like the others around me.
There are times like these when all I wish to do is escape into a fantasy world where everything would be different. Lifestyles, reasons for joy and sorrow, success and failure, pains, cares, fears, celebrations would not exist the way they do here. And the whole purpose of life would be strikingly different. Far removed from the machines, sticks and expectations the earth has to offer. Something more magical, rustic, primitive, enchanting and thrilling.
I think I know why such a fairytale world tantalizes and beckons my soul. It helps me escape from the harsh realities of this life and live, albeit for a fleeting while, in an imaginary world where I don't have to be bogged down by the mundane everyday troubles. Where a flick of a wand could bring back the things that are most precious to me and that I no longer hold. But again, that takes away all meaning, distorts the beauty and spontaneity of life, making it less magical.
:)
It can't have anything to do with at least two of those three "things". Because they have always been this way for me. I have always lived on the borderline here. And I just don't care much about academics anyway. So what, then? The fact that my brother refused to talk to me or even come and meet me, or that I could not give enough time to my parents while they were here and my mom was kind of sad when she left. Maybe that was a sort of instigator.
But the real question is something else. Deep within me, it spreads its tentacles searching desperately for an answer, screaming madly for release. Why is it that when you have something, you don't want it, and the only time you realize you want it so much is much later when you don't have it anymore...
There have been so many situations in the past which exemplified this thought. And I haven't found an answer to it yet. Or an exception. I haven't even learnt to recognize them as and when they arise to avoid depressed musings as these in the future. There have been times when I have held gems with my fingers, never knowing them for what they were or using them as I should have. Only to lose them to time like you do all things. Or fate. And then wishing for them later, my heart craving for the pure ecstasy I could have had. Always wondering what I did wrong.
Why does the same thing happen to me over and over again. Heaven knows I should have learnt by now. I didn't want to blame myself for everything, but I did, and I don't want to now. Maybe it's just the way things are meant to be. Maybe it's the course my life was meant to take. The curse my destiny was meant to have. Makes me wonder when, if ever, it will lift and I will be able to lead a normal happy life like the others around me.
There are times like these when all I wish to do is escape into a fantasy world where everything would be different. Lifestyles, reasons for joy and sorrow, success and failure, pains, cares, fears, celebrations would not exist the way they do here. And the whole purpose of life would be strikingly different. Far removed from the machines, sticks and expectations the earth has to offer. Something more magical, rustic, primitive, enchanting and thrilling.
I think I know why such a fairytale world tantalizes and beckons my soul. It helps me escape from the harsh realities of this life and live, albeit for a fleeting while, in an imaginary world where I don't have to be bogged down by the mundane everyday troubles. Where a flick of a wand could bring back the things that are most precious to me and that I no longer hold. But again, that takes away all meaning, distorts the beauty and spontaneity of life, making it less magical.
:)
Thursday, November 27, 2008
Identique.
Indian education system. A hot topic for debate. Taught in schools the mundane way, learning by the same pen and paper, the resemblance does not end here. We pass out with a terribly similar skill set and mode of thinking, even sharing an approach to problems. Thus, leaving little space for the natural creativity and wildness of thought that is inherently a part of every child. Doubtless, such a system has its critics. Implications of killing interest, mitigating difference in perspective, leaving little room for diversity and innovation.
Expectations from children are, to a great extent, identical often leading them to adjust their ambitions to match them. Strangely comparable to an assembly line production in a factory. Reminds me of a scene from Matrix where hundreds of men and women in black suits are shown to be going about their daily life and work.
What surprises me is that some times, students are even supposed to behave in the same manner. There are certain modes of conduct to be followed, only certain ways of learning and mugging, and you get this wisdom from the seniors. The cycle repeats; with a handing down of the gems through the years and generations.
What harm would it do society to encourage a child who wants to go the maverick way. What good would it do a child to squash his dreams of standing out by doing something out of the ordinary. Becoming an art therapist, bomb disposal squad agent, forest guard, orchestra conductor, game evaluator, fire fighter, sailor.
You don't have to get all rich and successful. Just do what makes you content.
Expectations from children are, to a great extent, identical often leading them to adjust their ambitions to match them. Strangely comparable to an assembly line production in a factory. Reminds me of a scene from Matrix where hundreds of men and women in black suits are shown to be going about their daily life and work.
What surprises me is that some times, students are even supposed to behave in the same manner. There are certain modes of conduct to be followed, only certain ways of learning and mugging, and you get this wisdom from the seniors. The cycle repeats; with a handing down of the gems through the years and generations.
What harm would it do society to encourage a child who wants to go the maverick way. What good would it do a child to squash his dreams of standing out by doing something out of the ordinary. Becoming an art therapist, bomb disposal squad agent, forest guard, orchestra conductor, game evaluator, fire fighter, sailor.
You don't have to get all rich and successful. Just do what makes you content.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Remnants
Die hard movie buffs would find it sacrilegious to hear me talking about the soporific power of movies. :p I do enjoy watching historical movies and a few thought provoking ones. I guess I'm more into music that way. I'm sure you'd all know. :D
I thought of writing this post about movie scenes that I've found unquestionably beautiful. I've always been touched by the scene from The Village where the feared creatures attack in the midst of a wedding. The lead lady, being blind, is unsure of where to go. Without saying a word, Joaquin Phoenix comes up and takes her hand, to lead her away from the clamor to safety. Her fear and uncertainty dissolve into confidence. Even though the two were not romantically involved, the affection was evident. As was his wish to protect her from danger and her unbinding faith in him. It seemed to me like the epitome of love and care.
One of my favorite movies, Lion King; I've found the part where Mufasa dies heart wrenching. He was projected as the invincible good king, deeply loved and revered by his subjects. Yet he dies trying to save his little son from danger. That is when the soft and vulnerable side of him is exposed. Even a great, god like figure must possess some weakness, some eventuality he fears, some one he loves. The mighty yet tender hand of the father. He who cares not for his own life, willingly throwing himself amongst the herd of rampaging bulls. As he would in a war to kill and to protect. Strangely, his face speaks of fear and death, that of his son, rather than courage and immortality.
There are many more I would like to write about but I need to sleep now ;) so it's going to be my next post.
Back again.
Deviating slightly from the topic, I just finished reading Anthem by Ayn Rand. What fascinated me about the book was the amazing simplicity, acidic bluntness and thoughtfulness with which she brings out a clear cut fact of life. I am the most important person in this world. The concept of "we" is just an illusion meant to appease the weak and insecure. It just is not possible for one to live his life by being entirely dependent on his fellow mates for happiness. Because there is no surety that people will stay around you forever. So what will you do once they leave. How will you break the attachment you had. People and possessions are only fleeting. They come and they leave. Nothing lasts forever. You are a denizen of the earth yourself. But your soul and mind are the only things that will always give you company for as long as you are alive and feeling. You have to be the prime cause of your joys and successes. You have to live for yourself. You just cannot surrender your soul to the multitude of people milling around you. It's the only way to survive the insanity of this world.
I thought of writing this post about movie scenes that I've found unquestionably beautiful. I've always been touched by the scene from The Village where the feared creatures attack in the midst of a wedding. The lead lady, being blind, is unsure of where to go. Without saying a word, Joaquin Phoenix comes up and takes her hand, to lead her away from the clamor to safety. Her fear and uncertainty dissolve into confidence. Even though the two were not romantically involved, the affection was evident. As was his wish to protect her from danger and her unbinding faith in him. It seemed to me like the epitome of love and care.
One of my favorite movies, Lion King; I've found the part where Mufasa dies heart wrenching. He was projected as the invincible good king, deeply loved and revered by his subjects. Yet he dies trying to save his little son from danger. That is when the soft and vulnerable side of him is exposed. Even a great, god like figure must possess some weakness, some eventuality he fears, some one he loves. The mighty yet tender hand of the father. He who cares not for his own life, willingly throwing himself amongst the herd of rampaging bulls. As he would in a war to kill and to protect. Strangely, his face speaks of fear and death, that of his son, rather than courage and immortality.
There are many more I would like to write about but I need to sleep now ;) so it's going to be my next post.
Back again.
Deviating slightly from the topic, I just finished reading Anthem by Ayn Rand. What fascinated me about the book was the amazing simplicity, acidic bluntness and thoughtfulness with which she brings out a clear cut fact of life. I am the most important person in this world. The concept of "we" is just an illusion meant to appease the weak and insecure. It just is not possible for one to live his life by being entirely dependent on his fellow mates for happiness. Because there is no surety that people will stay around you forever. So what will you do once they leave. How will you break the attachment you had. People and possessions are only fleeting. They come and they leave. Nothing lasts forever. You are a denizen of the earth yourself. But your soul and mind are the only things that will always give you company for as long as you are alive and feeling. You have to be the prime cause of your joys and successes. You have to live for yourself. You just cannot surrender your soul to the multitude of people milling around you. It's the only way to survive the insanity of this world.
Blood Bulls
The other day I saw a huge banner dangling in front of IMDC which read Placements 2009, making it sound like the name of some local fair. Two days later I found that it was exactly that! There were several high profile companies sitting in different rooms, all come to recruit the best students. Day Zero had sounded like a dream when it was described to us by our seniors. For us, it was more of a nightmare. Recruiters trying to make offers early on to ensure that no others got the best candidates. All of them asking how many other offers we had and how many more interviews we had left. Were they apprehensive? Probably. Of markets? Oh yeah. And we? Not so much at first. But with the passing hours, we realized just how difficult getting a job would be. Were we desperate? Boy, yeah! It felt more like imploring, begging for jobs.
It really did not feel like what one could imagine the much-hyped placements to be like. A natural thought was that, as students who were being sold through one of the most successful recruiting agencies in a top educational institution, we would not have to face the full blast of the global meltdown. Maybe a bit tougher this time, but not terribly disturbing. Or so we were led to believe. That did not even begin to capture the ordeal most of us went through. There was hardly a choice of any kind or type. Capped by the mental trauma induced by waiting in the airport lounge like place all day long. We were mentally drained. With barely any strength left to confront the panel smiling at you and asking about your life. Tormented by the thank you. Knowing that you were faced by the ultimate test of patience. Any words I use would be a mere shadow of the anguish I'd felt. At times, on the verge of disintegrating.
For even the wisest, it was totally unanticipated. We all knew the markets were bad, but most of us had failed to grasp the enormity of the situation. We sure did not realize Day Zero would be this, dunno how to put it here, depressing? Especially after the rosy picture painted the previous year. Now morphed into a mirage. For us and for them. The situation was considerably better in the next few days with everyone working towards just one goal - get them all placed!
The technicalities of the scheduling process were kind of weird. A little random. But it was probably the best and only solution seeing the quality and preferences of students. All the sudden interview calls. The occasional argument between the company HR and PlaceCom about how the scheduling was messed up and it did not allow companies to "take away the top 25%" like they all wanted to. It was one of the craziest things I've ever seen!
It was fun volunteering for the remaining days. Made one appreciate just how challenging the job of a PlaceCommer can be! But fun nevertheless. Its a unique experience, nothing comparable to any other college. Made even better by the free pizzas and chocolate milkshakes ;D We had all become so involved that most of our discussions centered around how many students had been placed and how many were still left in the process. It was as much of a relief to be placed as it was to see others placed. And then the whole batch!
A lot of us did not get the sector, firm or division of our choice. But we were ok with it. Maybe from a more holistic point of view. Or at least will be in ten days time :P
They'd said it right the first time. It was the place for all the pain and happiness in the world.
:)
It really did not feel like what one could imagine the much-hyped placements to be like. A natural thought was that, as students who were being sold through one of the most successful recruiting agencies in a top educational institution, we would not have to face the full blast of the global meltdown. Maybe a bit tougher this time, but not terribly disturbing. Or so we were led to believe. That did not even begin to capture the ordeal most of us went through. There was hardly a choice of any kind or type. Capped by the mental trauma induced by waiting in the airport lounge like place all day long. We were mentally drained. With barely any strength left to confront the panel smiling at you and asking about your life. Tormented by the thank you. Knowing that you were faced by the ultimate test of patience. Any words I use would be a mere shadow of the anguish I'd felt. At times, on the verge of disintegrating.
For even the wisest, it was totally unanticipated. We all knew the markets were bad, but most of us had failed to grasp the enormity of the situation. We sure did not realize Day Zero would be this, dunno how to put it here, depressing? Especially after the rosy picture painted the previous year. Now morphed into a mirage. For us and for them. The situation was considerably better in the next few days with everyone working towards just one goal - get them all placed!
The technicalities of the scheduling process were kind of weird. A little random. But it was probably the best and only solution seeing the quality and preferences of students. All the sudden interview calls. The occasional argument between the company HR and PlaceCom about how the scheduling was messed up and it did not allow companies to "take away the top 25%" like they all wanted to. It was one of the craziest things I've ever seen!
It was fun volunteering for the remaining days. Made one appreciate just how challenging the job of a PlaceCommer can be! But fun nevertheless. Its a unique experience, nothing comparable to any other college. Made even better by the free pizzas and chocolate milkshakes ;D We had all become so involved that most of our discussions centered around how many students had been placed and how many were still left in the process. It was as much of a relief to be placed as it was to see others placed. And then the whole batch!
A lot of us did not get the sector, firm or division of our choice. But we were ok with it. Maybe from a more holistic point of view. Or at least will be in ten days time :P
They'd said it right the first time. It was the place for all the pain and happiness in the world.
:)
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
A journey: A perspective
I'm scared. Shit scared. Of a lot of things. And a little bit of everything. I dont know whats going to happen to me and I dont know how I've managed to land myself in the mess that my life is in right now. I dont know if I should call this a mess. I've probably seen worse. But its pretty bad nevertheless. Stuck in a place away from home with no decent work to do except try to study and then feel bad about not studying. To top that all everyone talks about are cases and summer placements and the markets going down. To hell with that!!! I really dont give a damn. Makes me wonder what I am doing in a business school anyway. Did I say B school? In that case this school is really a prison. And my room is one of the cells. Complete with ancient brick walls. And I'm the lucky inmate of Dorm 1 Room 25. The way I've been signing off all my cover letters and CVs.
Let me think back to the first time I nurtured the sweet ambition of entering these hallowed halls. I really wanted to go to a second grade (comparatively) school because I'd heard that they dont bother you with muggai. But then decided that this is more on top and closer to home. Came here during the interview and found it a fraud. Wasn't too awestruck or amazed by the sight of the brick coloured dungeons. Did I say I felt a little let down. Wrong time!! It was just the beginning!
I dont think I will ever forget my first day at Wimwi. Came here to get registered and found that due to some technical problem the guy refused to get my admission done. I nearly fainted of a heart attack! After all this! Would I have to go back to Siemens??? I've always wondered. Why does this usually happen to me? Just when something great is about to happen, these irritating little things crop up and make my path just that little bit more convoluted. Maybe its meant to be that way. Just to make me really appreciate what I've got. Whatever.
So then I thought I would take some respite from the heat in the sanctity and cool of my room and my home for the next 2 years. Oh man!!!! Two heart attacks (or close calls at least) in 1 day aint good. It was the saddest, dustiest, dullest, depressingest place I'd ever seen in all my life. I couldn't even make myself stay there for the night. Away from my parents and my sweet lil bro? No ways!! Clung on to them like a lifeline for as long as they were there. And then I cried. After they left. In my room. All alone. My first time in a hostel. Clinging on to the bedsheet. I missed my Mom. And I know she cried for me too.
But then I thought "What the heck?" Might as well go and look around the campus and talk to people around. So it took a little getting used to. But it wasn't all that bad. Really? Really!!! Well, except the studies part of it. Cases, muggai, quizzes and the dreaded shouts of Muggo Fachhon Muggo. And of course food that tasted good for a week and then was discovered to be totally Giveup. And FRA!! Oh hell!!! If there's one way to torture people's minds and wring their brains dry, then this is it.
Sometime I feel so frustrated I feel like throwing things and banging stuff and creating noise and confusion. Could it be the state of my mind within. I suspect. Life seems pointless then and this entire routine endless. I mean, what comes out of it? What do I get? Satisfaction?? Nah
It passes. Everything blurs. Everything fades into insignificance. Even this? Maybe one day I would find out. Until then, its Defense Against the Dark Studies for me.
There was some respite in the form of a Talent Nite which we all believe was just a smart way to rag us poor unsuspecting souls. But to hell with that! It was loads of fun!! There have been few times when I have enjoyed myself so much. I realised something very valuable, something I will cherish forever. The people here are so down to earth, talented, intelligent, sensitive, creative, nice, smart, friendly and have absolutely no airs! I mean, if there are some places on this planet where people could be allowed to be proud and arrogant and stuck up, then this would be one of them. Definitely not my old school where people had no achievements of their own to boast of. Well, this is a group I would love to know and be with for the rest of my life.
Coming back to T Nite, boy was it eventful! Getting to know good people, nightouts, random talking, lots of energetic dancing, venturing into unexplored territory, realising I didn't like it anyway. But I'm glad I took the step, or I wouldn't ever have learnt what not to do in future. Isn't that the best teacher? Lots of new trails opening up..
It passed too. But we took away memories from it, those that I will always love to think back on. We left our footsteps too, forever ingrained in the stones of this place. But.. All good things come to an end. Which brings me back to my basic question. Why do people over here study so much??? Aren't they already sick and tired of it, damn it!! Frustrated souls, lost causes. Period.
So now I've been here nearly 4 months, in a white washed room with a horrible brown door and an ugly green almirah, all of which I've been trying my best to cover up with colured paper, just to bring a little cheer :) There's a pretty verandah overlooking a lot of trees which helps keep my room and mood cool and gives a vintage, rustic feel. I also have a pet lizard, one that likes to eat butterflies and moths and in the process distract my already distracted mind. Its mates visit once in a while. So do some acid green flying creatures that are extremely lazy when it comes to settling down on my bed!
I dont know whether I hate this place or I love it. Maybe a bit of both. For when it comes to the much hyped B school, there can never be a mid way. I do love the fact that in 2nd year you get to chill and play and do nothing at all. Hardly any studies! Way too cool!!! And I do love the various interactions with fachhas, tuchhas, dogs, cats, group members. I love being in clubs. And I just discovered, or maybe rediscovered (cant even remember), that I love playing. Talk about stuff that had nearly slipped out of the memory lanes. Gonna play basky, tennis, TT, frisbee, football like crazy before I leave this place. Andddd I love nightouts! Playing truth and truth. Spying on people ;) Digging out secrets. Bugging people. Talking rubbish. Wasting time. Doing crazy stuff, real crazy :D That sounds more like me!!
Till then I hope I pass decently for the authorities to consider promoting me to heavenly tuchhadom. Thats one of my most intimate fears. I think I'll barely scrap a pass, like I always do ;) So maybe life here isn't all that bad after all. Its a great place. LKP, new campus at night, placement area, basky court. And for the first time I have my own money (a huge grin) which I can spend as and when and where I like, even back home!! And not to mention a wonderful opportunity. Not just another brick in the wall!
So like the wise old people say, make the most out of every opportunity you have. After all how many are this fortunate. This is a beautiful place. The best in my life yet.
:)
Let me think back to the first time I nurtured the sweet ambition of entering these hallowed halls. I really wanted to go to a second grade (comparatively) school because I'd heard that they dont bother you with muggai. But then decided that this is more on top and closer to home. Came here during the interview and found it a fraud. Wasn't too awestruck or amazed by the sight of the brick coloured dungeons. Did I say I felt a little let down. Wrong time!! It was just the beginning!
I dont think I will ever forget my first day at Wimwi. Came here to get registered and found that due to some technical problem the guy refused to get my admission done. I nearly fainted of a heart attack! After all this! Would I have to go back to Siemens??? I've always wondered. Why does this usually happen to me? Just when something great is about to happen, these irritating little things crop up and make my path just that little bit more convoluted. Maybe its meant to be that way. Just to make me really appreciate what I've got. Whatever.
So then I thought I would take some respite from the heat in the sanctity and cool of my room and my home for the next 2 years. Oh man!!!! Two heart attacks (or close calls at least) in 1 day aint good. It was the saddest, dustiest, dullest, depressingest place I'd ever seen in all my life. I couldn't even make myself stay there for the night. Away from my parents and my sweet lil bro? No ways!! Clung on to them like a lifeline for as long as they were there. And then I cried. After they left. In my room. All alone. My first time in a hostel. Clinging on to the bedsheet. I missed my Mom. And I know she cried for me too.
But then I thought "What the heck?" Might as well go and look around the campus and talk to people around. So it took a little getting used to. But it wasn't all that bad. Really? Really!!! Well, except the studies part of it. Cases, muggai, quizzes and the dreaded shouts of Muggo Fachhon Muggo. And of course food that tasted good for a week and then was discovered to be totally Giveup. And FRA!! Oh hell!!! If there's one way to torture people's minds and wring their brains dry, then this is it.
Sometime I feel so frustrated I feel like throwing things and banging stuff and creating noise and confusion. Could it be the state of my mind within. I suspect. Life seems pointless then and this entire routine endless. I mean, what comes out of it? What do I get? Satisfaction?? Nah
It passes. Everything blurs. Everything fades into insignificance. Even this? Maybe one day I would find out. Until then, its Defense Against the Dark Studies for me.
There was some respite in the form of a Talent Nite which we all believe was just a smart way to rag us poor unsuspecting souls. But to hell with that! It was loads of fun!! There have been few times when I have enjoyed myself so much. I realised something very valuable, something I will cherish forever. The people here are so down to earth, talented, intelligent, sensitive, creative, nice, smart, friendly and have absolutely no airs! I mean, if there are some places on this planet where people could be allowed to be proud and arrogant and stuck up, then this would be one of them. Definitely not my old school where people had no achievements of their own to boast of. Well, this is a group I would love to know and be with for the rest of my life.
Coming back to T Nite, boy was it eventful! Getting to know good people, nightouts, random talking, lots of energetic dancing, venturing into unexplored territory, realising I didn't like it anyway. But I'm glad I took the step, or I wouldn't ever have learnt what not to do in future. Isn't that the best teacher? Lots of new trails opening up..
It passed too. But we took away memories from it, those that I will always love to think back on. We left our footsteps too, forever ingrained in the stones of this place. But.. All good things come to an end. Which brings me back to my basic question. Why do people over here study so much??? Aren't they already sick and tired of it, damn it!! Frustrated souls, lost causes. Period.
So now I've been here nearly 4 months, in a white washed room with a horrible brown door and an ugly green almirah, all of which I've been trying my best to cover up with colured paper, just to bring a little cheer :) There's a pretty verandah overlooking a lot of trees which helps keep my room and mood cool and gives a vintage, rustic feel. I also have a pet lizard, one that likes to eat butterflies and moths and in the process distract my already distracted mind. Its mates visit once in a while. So do some acid green flying creatures that are extremely lazy when it comes to settling down on my bed!
I dont know whether I hate this place or I love it. Maybe a bit of both. For when it comes to the much hyped B school, there can never be a mid way. I do love the fact that in 2nd year you get to chill and play and do nothing at all. Hardly any studies! Way too cool!!! And I do love the various interactions with fachhas, tuchhas, dogs, cats, group members. I love being in clubs. And I just discovered, or maybe rediscovered (cant even remember), that I love playing. Talk about stuff that had nearly slipped out of the memory lanes. Gonna play basky, tennis, TT, frisbee, football like crazy before I leave this place. Andddd I love nightouts! Playing truth and truth. Spying on people ;) Digging out secrets. Bugging people. Talking rubbish. Wasting time. Doing crazy stuff, real crazy :D That sounds more like me!!
Till then I hope I pass decently for the authorities to consider promoting me to heavenly tuchhadom. Thats one of my most intimate fears. I think I'll barely scrap a pass, like I always do ;) So maybe life here isn't all that bad after all. Its a great place. LKP, new campus at night, placement area, basky court. And for the first time I have my own money (a huge grin) which I can spend as and when and where I like, even back home!! And not to mention a wonderful opportunity. Not just another brick in the wall!
So like the wise old people say, make the most out of every opportunity you have. After all how many are this fortunate. This is a beautiful place. The best in my life yet.
:)
when you walk away..
I felt like my world was breaking apart, into thousands of pieces, right in my front of my eyes and there was nothing I could do about it except watch it happen, slowly and painfully. I had nowhere to turn to for comfort, for solace, it was you I always took it from. And with you gone, my life was so hollow that I could see no end to this mindless numbing pain, pain like I'd never ever felt before. No mercy, there was little left, just a tornado of crushed emotions, and my heart fused with flame.
I've always been too possessive for my own good, but I cant change that and I don't want to. I never wanted to be anything but the only one on this planet. It tortures me, it takes away my peace and sanity and leaves me no place to think or even to be. It makes no sense to me, why must only I go through this. Nothing interests me any more. I was more unfortunate, more insignificant than the lowest creature on this planet, even worthless, so useless. There was a crescendo within me. I had to get out, to escape. I had to turn into stone.
Has the question ever occured to you... Have you ever fallen in love with the wrong person. I have. I usually do. Why is it impossible to stop yourself then? I can only stop myself from falling too deep, but I just can't detach myself completely. Everytime I hear these words, it makes me cry within. A song that is very close to me.
I always needed time on my own
I never thought I'd need you here when I cry
And the days feel like years when I'm alone
And the bed where you lay is made up on your side
When you walk away I count the steps that you take
Do you see how much I need you right now
When you're gone
The pieces of my heart are missing you
Everything I do reminds me of you
All the things you left, they lie on the floor
And they smell just like you
And all of the things that you do
It's said that phoenix tears have healing powers. I believe that to be true. A new life is what I need. For myself. And it helps to cry. To let the pain flow away.
It was a long, long time ago and I don't feel any of it now. I don't remember what it was like. But I do remember that I don't ever want to go through it again. My scars have healed, barely. They are still there, waiting to be torn open. Sometimes, the past tends to repeat, and it feels acidic :) That is when I need to push away.
I might not be able to take all of it a second time.
:)
I've always been too possessive for my own good, but I cant change that and I don't want to. I never wanted to be anything but the only one on this planet. It tortures me, it takes away my peace and sanity and leaves me no place to think or even to be. It makes no sense to me, why must only I go through this. Nothing interests me any more. I was more unfortunate, more insignificant than the lowest creature on this planet, even worthless, so useless. There was a crescendo within me. I had to get out, to escape. I had to turn into stone.
Has the question ever occured to you... Have you ever fallen in love with the wrong person. I have. I usually do. Why is it impossible to stop yourself then? I can only stop myself from falling too deep, but I just can't detach myself completely. Everytime I hear these words, it makes me cry within. A song that is very close to me.
I always needed time on my own
I never thought I'd need you here when I cry
And the days feel like years when I'm alone
And the bed where you lay is made up on your side
When you walk away I count the steps that you take
Do you see how much I need you right now
When you're gone
The pieces of my heart are missing you
Everything I do reminds me of you
All the things you left, they lie on the floor
And they smell just like you
And all of the things that you do
It's said that phoenix tears have healing powers. I believe that to be true. A new life is what I need. For myself. And it helps to cry. To let the pain flow away.
It was a long, long time ago and I don't feel any of it now. I don't remember what it was like. But I do remember that I don't ever want to go through it again. My scars have healed, barely. They are still there, waiting to be torn open. Sometimes, the past tends to repeat, and it feels acidic :) That is when I need to push away.
I might not be able to take all of it a second time.
:)
Monday, October 20, 2008
Memories of days gone by
I had a long and refreshing talk with one of my closest friends back from engineering days. It was like taking a trip down memory lane. There was so much to talk about; all the great times we had had, the places we had bunked college to visit, the pranks we had played and the absolute insensitivity with which we used to behave with others.
Those four years were among the best and most fun years of my life. The pure enjoyment of pulling people's legs and eating and roaming around aimlessly, the complete disregard for rules we exemplified accompanied by a heightened desire to waste time doing totally useless stuff! I dont think those days can ever return. We barely studied for the exams, buying books and checking question papers with just a few hours left for the paper. All the long telephonic conversations the day before the exam, cursing all the jobless souls who studied for longer than a day per paper, wishing them a life of misery and sorrow, these were among our favourite passtimes. The most classic and historic scene would definitely be a view of the Xerox room on the day of submissions and evenings before exams. We would be photocopying notes in wholesale after getting hold of the mastercopy!
The early morning 9 o'clock lecture just was not meant for us. We would never step into college before 10.30 and if we were ever less than 1/2 an hour late for any lecture, jaws used to drop in shock. Reaching late, hiding and asking if it was safe to enter and then shamelessly entering and making a grab for the attendance sheet, often signing it without attending the lecture! Talking nonsense during practicals when we were obviously not doing anything, and in the process not letting anyone else do the pracs either ;D
It would be a sin if I did not mention our college canteen, by far our favourite hangout spot. We used to visit it at least thrice a day. I loved the Chinese, Richa loved the sandwiches and Tanvi had a thing for cutting chai! Aakanksha simply used to dig her fork into everyone's plates. We had a hard time keeping Maggi away from her, or anything for that matter! Towards the end of college, our class had made it a habit to eat and leave without paying. I think all of us got caught doing that at least once :D There was this small sharp guy who always kept an eye on us after that ;) And when, if ever, we had sufficient money we used to go for Mexican/Italian or Mughlai to the restaurants outside.
Andddd this was the best part!! Asking for treats. Catching people at random, torturing them incessantly and the murderous attempts to take away their mental sanctity. So much so that some even started getting scared of us. I have often been complimented on the aptness of my orkut about me :P The four of us were infamously known as the "Torture Group". The audience obviously found it entertaining, the victims terrorizing. Our valiant acts were photographed on more than one occasion :) Dragging people to the foodspots, demanding for chocolates. We were more unsuccessful than successful, but who the hell cares! It was so much fun.
And of course, our photography loving class. Given any occasion, any stupid reason to stand and smile before the flash, be it a trip or an outting or a bday, all the cameras and cells would be whipped out. Our favourite spot was the new college entrance behind the quad, where the light was just brilliant and there was always a light breeze blowing. Remember the amazingly innovative and weird poses and concepts we would come up with!
And then, the annual trips!! The best one was undoubtedly our 2nd year IEEE trip to Chandigarh and Shimla. It was so hilarious and fun-filled. I could spend hours remembering that one. Thinking that we were locked outside our rooms when all we had to do was push open the door, accusing all the hotel staff of stealing a SIM card from a CDMA phone!! All of Chinchu's "kaarname"; torturing her to insanity in Shimla, throwing and pulling blankets, colouring her face with toothpaste, saying Akbar Birbal stories (new form of ragging?!?), all preceded by the incessant and vain efforts to wake her from her deep naps standing against the wall! The snow fights in Kufri and freezing in the snow wearing just a jacket and t-shirt. The 3rd year trip was a contrast as we spent most of the time cursing and swearing ;) Though the endless gardens in Bangalore had us pissed, the trips to the palaces in Mysore were memorable. I wont forget the way I got caught using my camera in a no-photography zone and the guards actually helped me escape! I could not possibly end this without talking about all the times we played "Killer" in the trains and buses. That was goddamn awesome fun!! Cheating and colluding, et al.
Now comes the best part. Bunking college and going to our favourite spots, i.e. our canteen, the amphitheatre near the lake, the quad. Sick of the never changing stock at Westside, we would flop down on our favourite sofa. We had a wide choice of hangouts even at Andheri station! like Shoppers Stop (remember some eventful occurrences and strategizing here, Richa?), McDonalds, Merwans, the mall where we spent god knows how many hours hunting for jewellery. I still have that amazing collection, totalling about 70 earrings at the last count :P Sitting on Worli sea face enjoying the cold wind, lying on Azad Maidan till 9 in the night and of course, walking on Marine Drive all the way to Nariman Point :)
Linking Road was always worth a visit for shopping and window shopping. Must say we discovered a wide array of mindblowing places during all the time we spent there. Bandra was always great for the nonveg and the roadside chicken! Wont forget all those evenings walking down to Bandstand and sitting on the rocks, discussing our past, present and future :) But the best by far was Juhu Beach. We would sit or sleep on the sand and talk endlessly, wade through the water, play khokho and saklee, watch all the "interesting" characters and couples. This was always a special place for me. I miss my morning and evening walks there, just me and the wind and the waves, and the music playing.
Could I ever forget the several hundred prank calls we must have made during those four years. We were never short of stupid ideas like cancellation of tutions, someone getting married, someone else getting selected by a modelling company or winning a beauty pageant, being selected as treasurer of some arbit club or if there was nothing to talk about, then just general bullshit. Yeah, I sure was skilled at that! We would bombard all the people in class with calls at the same time so that there was no way they could not find out that it was a prank even when some were foolish enough to believe the shit we spoke ;) This continued for a long time until people actually started storing my landline no. :P
We used to be so utterly unconcerned about academics. We were fooling around like crazy and deciding where to go out to eat the day our 7th semester results came out and we found that all the CAT givers had fared badly. I had even worked so less for my final year project that I was in grave danger of being flunked by the prof ;P Vivas were the biggest joke for some of us. Most of the time we knew nothing and we passed just by improvising and talking a brilliant amount of bullshit in such confident tones that it led the examiners to believe that we had all conducted research on the topic :D Well I have to hand it to Mumbai University for this, it taught me nothing except how to talk crap and make it sound like it is the gem of a thought :)
So much has changed. We now live in opposite ends of the world and yet we were talking as if it were only yesterday that we had last met. We had completely different lives now, we had to undertake different journeys, go through joy, pain, defeat and happiness for different reasons and yet we were the same kids that we used to be. We could still identify with each other completely. The senti talk, all the reminiscing, bitching and making plans, sharing all that had happened with each of us in the short space of the last four months, it still seemed exactly the same.
They say that people change with time. I dont know if I will and then I dont know if I will be able to recognize those old times. But I sure hope things remain the same between us forever. No matter what life throws at us, I know we can win every challenge just by being us. We've always shared so much, I wont ever forget it. I love you all.
:)
Those four years were among the best and most fun years of my life. The pure enjoyment of pulling people's legs and eating and roaming around aimlessly, the complete disregard for rules we exemplified accompanied by a heightened desire to waste time doing totally useless stuff! I dont think those days can ever return. We barely studied for the exams, buying books and checking question papers with just a few hours left for the paper. All the long telephonic conversations the day before the exam, cursing all the jobless souls who studied for longer than a day per paper, wishing them a life of misery and sorrow, these were among our favourite passtimes. The most classic and historic scene would definitely be a view of the Xerox room on the day of submissions and evenings before exams. We would be photocopying notes in wholesale after getting hold of the mastercopy!
The early morning 9 o'clock lecture just was not meant for us. We would never step into college before 10.30 and if we were ever less than 1/2 an hour late for any lecture, jaws used to drop in shock. Reaching late, hiding and asking if it was safe to enter and then shamelessly entering and making a grab for the attendance sheet, often signing it without attending the lecture! Talking nonsense during practicals when we were obviously not doing anything, and in the process not letting anyone else do the pracs either ;D
It would be a sin if I did not mention our college canteen, by far our favourite hangout spot. We used to visit it at least thrice a day. I loved the Chinese, Richa loved the sandwiches and Tanvi had a thing for cutting chai! Aakanksha simply used to dig her fork into everyone's plates. We had a hard time keeping Maggi away from her, or anything for that matter! Towards the end of college, our class had made it a habit to eat and leave without paying. I think all of us got caught doing that at least once :D There was this small sharp guy who always kept an eye on us after that ;) And when, if ever, we had sufficient money we used to go for Mexican/Italian or Mughlai to the restaurants outside.
Andddd this was the best part!! Asking for treats. Catching people at random, torturing them incessantly and the murderous attempts to take away their mental sanctity. So much so that some even started getting scared of us. I have often been complimented on the aptness of my orkut about me :P The four of us were infamously known as the "Torture Group". The audience obviously found it entertaining, the victims terrorizing. Our valiant acts were photographed on more than one occasion :) Dragging people to the foodspots, demanding for chocolates. We were more unsuccessful than successful, but who the hell cares! It was so much fun.
And of course, our photography loving class. Given any occasion, any stupid reason to stand and smile before the flash, be it a trip or an outting or a bday, all the cameras and cells would be whipped out. Our favourite spot was the new college entrance behind the quad, where the light was just brilliant and there was always a light breeze blowing. Remember the amazingly innovative and weird poses and concepts we would come up with!
And then, the annual trips!! The best one was undoubtedly our 2nd year IEEE trip to Chandigarh and Shimla. It was so hilarious and fun-filled. I could spend hours remembering that one. Thinking that we were locked outside our rooms when all we had to do was push open the door, accusing all the hotel staff of stealing a SIM card from a CDMA phone!! All of Chinchu's "kaarname"; torturing her to insanity in Shimla, throwing and pulling blankets, colouring her face with toothpaste, saying Akbar Birbal stories (new form of ragging?!?), all preceded by the incessant and vain efforts to wake her from her deep naps standing against the wall! The snow fights in Kufri and freezing in the snow wearing just a jacket and t-shirt. The 3rd year trip was a contrast as we spent most of the time cursing and swearing ;) Though the endless gardens in Bangalore had us pissed, the trips to the palaces in Mysore were memorable. I wont forget the way I got caught using my camera in a no-photography zone and the guards actually helped me escape! I could not possibly end this without talking about all the times we played "Killer" in the trains and buses. That was goddamn awesome fun!! Cheating and colluding, et al.
Now comes the best part. Bunking college and going to our favourite spots, i.e. our canteen, the amphitheatre near the lake, the quad. Sick of the never changing stock at Westside, we would flop down on our favourite sofa. We had a wide choice of hangouts even at Andheri station! like Shoppers Stop (remember some eventful occurrences and strategizing here, Richa?), McDonalds, Merwans, the mall where we spent god knows how many hours hunting for jewellery. I still have that amazing collection, totalling about 70 earrings at the last count :P Sitting on Worli sea face enjoying the cold wind, lying on Azad Maidan till 9 in the night and of course, walking on Marine Drive all the way to Nariman Point :)
Linking Road was always worth a visit for shopping and window shopping. Must say we discovered a wide array of mindblowing places during all the time we spent there. Bandra was always great for the nonveg and the roadside chicken! Wont forget all those evenings walking down to Bandstand and sitting on the rocks, discussing our past, present and future :) But the best by far was Juhu Beach. We would sit or sleep on the sand and talk endlessly, wade through the water, play khokho and saklee, watch all the "interesting" characters and couples. This was always a special place for me. I miss my morning and evening walks there, just me and the wind and the waves, and the music playing.
Could I ever forget the several hundred prank calls we must have made during those four years. We were never short of stupid ideas like cancellation of tutions, someone getting married, someone else getting selected by a modelling company or winning a beauty pageant, being selected as treasurer of some arbit club or if there was nothing to talk about, then just general bullshit. Yeah, I sure was skilled at that! We would bombard all the people in class with calls at the same time so that there was no way they could not find out that it was a prank even when some were foolish enough to believe the shit we spoke ;) This continued for a long time until people actually started storing my landline no. :P
We used to be so utterly unconcerned about academics. We were fooling around like crazy and deciding where to go out to eat the day our 7th semester results came out and we found that all the CAT givers had fared badly. I had even worked so less for my final year project that I was in grave danger of being flunked by the prof ;P Vivas were the biggest joke for some of us. Most of the time we knew nothing and we passed just by improvising and talking a brilliant amount of bullshit in such confident tones that it led the examiners to believe that we had all conducted research on the topic :D Well I have to hand it to Mumbai University for this, it taught me nothing except how to talk crap and make it sound like it is the gem of a thought :)
So much has changed. We now live in opposite ends of the world and yet we were talking as if it were only yesterday that we had last met. We had completely different lives now, we had to undertake different journeys, go through joy, pain, defeat and happiness for different reasons and yet we were the same kids that we used to be. We could still identify with each other completely. The senti talk, all the reminiscing, bitching and making plans, sharing all that had happened with each of us in the short space of the last four months, it still seemed exactly the same.
They say that people change with time. I dont know if I will and then I dont know if I will be able to recognize those old times. But I sure hope things remain the same between us forever. No matter what life throws at us, I know we can win every challenge just by being us. We've always shared so much, I wont ever forget it. I love you all.
:)
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