Backlog… :)

Order is good. Mostly. It makes sure that the earth will go around the sun
in the same way as it has in the past and bring summer to ripen the
mangoes. Patterns are good too — most of the time. They help us find our
shoes easily among an array of other pairs.

But if we stick too much to the same order and pattern, we lose. We lose
the opportunity to discover new lands, new paths, new flowers, new ways
(and new words!).

PS: The post has been lying in my account since I last edited it on January 22, 2009 at 9:42 am. Chances are I started it the same day.

It’s incomplete, but since it has been a year since I did any changes to it, chances are it will stay the same way for years to come. Thought, I might as well publish it just as it is in that case.

A very Happy New Year to all…

 

Free…

Tick tock tick tock…

The hours were followed by minutes, minutes followed by seconds, seconds by hours and so on. I looked at the clock, wishing it would break its rhythm and slow down, or fasten up, or stop forever. But that was not to be. At least the last five hours had proved the reliability of time was for real, just as they proved its ruthlessness and practicality.

The food was cold long back, and was kept right where it had been placed… untouched, undisturbed. Food had never interested me. While I had my share of binges and cravings, it never ruled my life. And it was not a concern even today. It had always been people, not necessarily selected on some criteria. But people in general. People who happened to touch my life due to one reason or the other…

Talking about people, there were quite a few walking outside my room. While I knew some of them, most of them were unknown. I did not know why they were there (though I had a hunch), and I did not like the way they would steal a glance at me from the semi open door of my room. I would pretend ignorance most of the times, but sometimes, when it got beyond my endurance levels, I would stare back at them and shrug or ask what they were looking at. But it didn’t seem to have any effect. There was a young girl of 8 or 10, who would often run by my door every once in a while, trying to peep as she sped across. I am not sure how much she could hold of the fast moving frames set in front of her running figure. She was a pretty girl, and I wondered what had brought her here.

There was a window in my room, but I kept it tightly shut, opening it only occasionally and for some minutes to re-circulate the air. There was a sturdy green tree outside my house, visible from the window. It looked resplendent with its glistening green leaves in the daytime, but as darkness approached, it took formidable shapes and forms with the help of the wind. It was mostly windy outside. And I guess chilly as well, for the people I saw were all dressed in overcoats and mufflers, and still shivered as they rushed to and from my house.

It had been a long time since I had been out of my house. So long, that I had lost track. It seemed a lifetime had passed since the day I had walked outside my house on that fateful day when I had that accident.  Needless to say, it changed my life. On reflection, it did not exactly change my life; it just stopped it, right there, in that one flash of a moment when it all happened. The events are hazy; I guess my brain shut off before the memories could register, only to return when everything else stopped for me.

Mind is impractical and silly. It plays with ideas and refuses to give up even when your body can’t comply to its demands – just and unjust alike. In my case, I had never pulled any reigns on it… had let it fly high and run wild as much as it wanted to. And hence, it was getting impossible to tame now, when my inabilities and limitations were at its peak.

The door was opened wide now, and in came one of the unknown men hovering outside my room. It knelt near my body, and looked into my eyes. It examined the cut on my wrist and checked my pulse, which unlike the clock had stopped 5 hours ago.

I was free to fly with my mind… I was free again…

 

Random

It’s winter already. The air is colder and water icy. I had the luxury of a stroll this evening (a rarity in the rarest sense of the word possible) and all the lights and other adorations of neighboring houses gave the feeling like it was Christmas… which made me worry about the environment, bringing the thoughts of global warming etc to my mind. But those thoughts were short lived for I remembered all the Christmases and winters gone by. Christmas holds a special place… perhaps because of all the Archie’s comics I have been reading since I was 7 years old. Back then as a young girl Christmas was magical. The impression, at a very subliminal level, still lives on

I have been listening to Mr. Jagjit Singh a lot lately. And have developed an insatiable appetite for the ghazal “Baat Niklegi”. I have these seasonal bouts of ghazals, while at other times (which I am afraid last much longer), I am so off them that I completely forget, and not deliberately, that there is a side to me that appreciates them. I used to have a double cassette collection of his ghazals and each one of them was the very best. Especially a live performance it had, called “Baju Band”. Sadly, I lost that cassette to a relative who borrowed it to never return, and I never asked for it again. The interesting part is that I never looked for the collection ever again in any of the music shops. Neither did I try searching for the song online. I just began to miss it intermittently, like I am now. Talk about self apathy and a passing one at that… 

Read the front news story today… about “raising the bar” for IIT aspirants. How unfair can it get I wonder! Reminds me of a short story featured in the Sunday Magazine of The Hindustan Times a few weeks back, written by Chetan Bhagat. I had planned to write about the story here then, and also about the writer… but it all just got lost in my head somewhere. It was a very well written piece and very successfully encompassed the current raison d’être of the Indian middle class. Perhaps it would still be available in the HT archives, and should be searchable online.

I am reading Paulo Coelho currently. Actually, that’s part true. One of the books I am currently reading is Paulo Coelho’s. The others are a book by Mark Tully and a classic by Thomas Hardy. The Paulo Coelho book is an experience of sorts. I don’t want to finish the book, because I want the experience to stay on.

The Christmas feeling also reminded me of another post I had written some years back on winters. I hazily remember giving its link in another post before too. Though after reading it I realized the impression I was carrying of the post was very different from the post itself, I’ll paste the link here (again perhaps) anyway. Hopefully if the thought lives on, I’ll write a fresh winter post this season (not that anyone’s waiting for it with fingers crossed… but that was never a reason to write)

The Winter Post

 

Whirled This…

 It’s a weird place, this world of ours. And it’s getting weirder by the day. Its not simple demand meets supply as the books would teach you. It’s not a straightforward two and two make a four either. It’s a world of unending aspirations and unyielding insecurities where demands go unsupplied and all the twos in the world add up to two. It’s a world of conflicts and manipulations, disguises and blatancies. It’s a world where justice is subjective, chivalry selective, benevolence conditional. It’s a playground of the high and mighty and also the conniving mortals adept in the skills of manipulation deemed unhealthy by the now obsolete books of virtue. 

There’s contradiction written all over, look in any direction. Each mortal is wary of the other and aspires to inflict on the other what is his own greatest fear. Success is a hateful unjustified scheme as long as it’s not one’s own. Friends are friends as long as they are usable and as long as they can’t use you. 

Reminds me of a small something I had written ages ago, which doesn’t necessarily fit in, but has a loose connection with the current context. 

“Logic ain’t logical anymore,
The world’s no longer straight.
Love and affection mixed with gore,
That’s my current state.

My eccentricity is justified
At least to me it is.
The loner goes back in her hood,
Let the world enjoy its bliss.”

PS: I know it’s not a balanced view of the world, and my rationality tells me there’s a greater and better world out there than I have hitherto seen. And to be fair, I have seen better than mentioned above. Let’s just say, I had to fill some space here.  

Cheers!

 

Interesting hobnobs…

Casual acquaintance:  Didn’t see you having lunch today? Fasting on Janmashtmi, is it?

 Me (with my most radiant smile): yeah…

Casual acquaintance (with a surprised/amused look): Oh good! It’s nice to start one’s day with prayers. Sort of cleanses you…

Me: Err… didn’t get much time to pray in the morning… so I just sort of thought about God for some time on my way to office.

Casual acquaintance (suppressing the cynical smile): Okay… and you’ve been listening to rock songs since morning, right?

Me (with a sheepish smile): I didn’t realize it was loud enough to sneak out of the headphones…

Casual acquaintance (attempting to end the conversation): Never mind that… but staying hungry for a day is marked devotion I’d say…

Me (in an attempt to be modest): It’s nothing really… besides, I just went to Haldiram’s… they had some stuff for fast takers…

Casual acquaintance (between unctrollable laughter): So, you are fasting for a God you didn’t find time to pray by listening to rock songs since morning and eating sweets and other delicacies from a famous eat out joint! Wah Bhartiya naari wah!

Casual acquaintance leaves as I get back to my “rock songs” sipping flavored milk from Haldiram’s…

Oh and btw… Belated Happy Janmashtmi people…!

 

Sneezy – wheezy – Rainy

I love rains… and I enjoy common cold. A mix of the two is one of the most surreal combinations possible.

I know it sounds stupid, but I like the sleepy, drowsy disposition that comes with cold. And I like the nasal tone too. I like the slow, sluggish blanket that surrounds one’s actions and thoughts. I like the fact that I can’t speak much, as mostly, I don’t like to speak a lot if I can help it. I like the perennial body ache and the stress on one’s ribs due to excessive coughing.

I like the fact that I can enjoy a hot cup of tea/coffee and even if I burn my tongue in the process (which is a routine ritual when I am having tea/coffee), it makes no difference, ‘cos it all tastes the same! And because of the point mentioned before, my office lunch becomes more edible than on normal days!

Having cold in monsoons makes it all the more enjoyable, ‘cos one doesn’t have to try too hard to slow down a bit to enjoy the downpour. The surrealistic effect of rain is so well complemented by the absentminded state of a cold stricken being.  The erratic sneezing and the lightheadedness it brings is a psychedelic process of sorts.

Getting drenched in a heavy rain in such a state and the numbness one feels with it is insurmountable. And from the time one feels a chilly shiver run down one’s bones after that, to the time when one is dried up and anticipating fever, every moment is so livable. 

Finally, what’s best about cold is the extent to which one appreciates the return of wakefulness and clear-headedness once it has subsided. (I am yet to reach this stage, but I have been through all the rest so far. )

At the cost of sounding more insane than I have already proved myself to be, I’d like to conclude that cold is one of the few harmless indulgences one can enjoy at one’s own expense.

Having said all that I have said… I wish the world a good health, body and mind!

And to all my fellow sneezers… enjoy the lull… Happy sneezing!

 

Yesterdays that were…

It’s amazing what ‘today’ can do to you; add a few years to it. I just had a small walk down the memory lane (sic) yesterday and I was amazed looking at the dates of the photographs, the chat transcripts, the emails… In the small unmindful mind that I roam about with, it only seemed yesterday! And there’s so much that has changed since that ‘yesterday’… things that seemed so mature and important back then, made me chuckle silently at their ludicrousness, and it made me sad to realize that I had, due to some unknown reasons, ‘grown’ out of it…

Why do people grow wise and sad and serious! I remember having a very indulging discussion with a like-minded cousin on this, on one of those seemingly yesterday afternoons… we were lying on the bed lazily after lunch I think, and were in a matching ponderous mood (something that comes easily to people who don’t have much to do or think about otherwise… I used to be so often in that mode till some time back… sigh…).The discussion was an engaging one, where we pointed out the reasons behind this redundant development. But we dozed off before deriving much out of it. What’s interesting was that we never considered ourselves to be part of the ‘people’ we had been discussing. It was conveniently assumed that we were above all this natural phenomenon of ‘growing up’.

Every day that goes by has a story to tell… and every day to come seems so routinely, that it’s hardly given so much thought as should be gone into it perhaps… my wise friend tells me that one ‘should’ not think on the lines of what ‘should be’. So, I’ll let it rest at that. And perhaps it is the best way to live through the present… a lot of foresight doesn’t help in the long run. In fact, my experience tells me that it tends to sap all the joy out of what could have otherwise been a reckless, joyous day. And perhaps that’s the reason why as we grow, and become more circumspect, the potential happy memories of the past to come, tend to diminish with every going day.

Or maybe they don’t. But just that the growing up slows down a bit and so the difference between the past and the present is not as stark as it used to be. Perhaps a few more decades before the realization of another yesterday gone far away dawns…

 

A tiny little something

A friend sent across this link. It was a very refreshing and interesting read. I thought I might as well share it here.

I went on holiday to escape my London-based life of needless anxiety. Tragically, I’ve succeeded

Cheers!

Updated May 28, 2008(5:19pm)
Another one from the same guy and through the same friend… Nightclubs are hell. What’s cool or fun about a thumping, sweaty dungeon full of posing idiots?
I’m a fan!

 

Solitude

“It’s difficult to be what you want to be… especially when you don’t know for sure what you want”

“It’s harder when you want to become what you can’t”

“Oh come on! There’s no ‘can’t’ that can’t be done”

“And who put that idea in your head?” I asked her, amused by the force with which she made her disagreement. I had seen her grow into the wise young girl the world knew her as, from a rebellious tomboy of a kid. The fact that she was like me in a lot more ways than could be pointed out was not hidden from either of us.

I knew the answer to my question. And I could hear it in my head as she frowned, struggling with words, deep in thoughts, not to find the answer but the right words to wrap it in.

“It’s right to an extent, what you just said”, I said to her. I could see that she was not listening… still upset with herself for not finding the words to express what she so strongly felt. “It holds true for people who are willing to try what they want. Not everybody’ wants’ to do that”, I continued. She acquiesced quietly – a trait I could never understand. She agreed to almost everything. And what that made her carry was the burden of her own convictions and beliefs in the form of confused, muffled questions. Was I responsible for it?, I wondered at times… Maybe in a way I was… with my sense of right and wrong, inflexible and mundane ideas about limits and boundaries, I had been a big influence in her being. It hurt me to see her submitting quietly to contradicting views. And I knew it bothered her too. But she was too proud to make it known… and too gullible to stand rooted with her own ideas.

“I know you don’t agree with me on this… why can’t you just say as much… no questions asked!” She looked at me quizzically wondering how much more I knew about her… she opened her mouth to speak but a knock at the door interrupted our little conversation.

“Hey! You’ve been locked in there long! Any plans for dinner?”

“In a minute!”, she called back, as I quietly proceeded into the oblivion of her reflections.

——————————–

Inspired from a small conversation of two kids I happened to overhear.

 

A little nothing…

Came across an interesting link while going through other interesting links.

Thought I might as well share it here for nonchalant passers by and more importantly to keep this little corner in the cyber space I can claim as mine, going….

If a tree falls in a forest riddle