My blog

Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Realization of a pending Reconcilation

Disclaimer - Technology is not the only topic which even if understood finds serious dearth in explanation. Some time those dearest to us cause us to falter and fail in the art of describing them.

Sipping on a brew that has always had been subjected to a strong resistance so habitually, caused a smirk and a twitch of an eyebrow on the table across. The faint colors of abrupt change that had struggled to find acceptance in the white, spiral box slowly summoned a need for justification. Avoidance was no solution as thousands of memories were exchanged in a few milliseconds between four fixated sights.  Language silenced herself without a struggle and communication floated even without a common thread.

Phaedrus tried hard not to bait an eyelid fearing what has been found after months would be lost without an answer. A fertile ground for a plethora of thoughts and expressions it had been for a mind of a once restless 21yr old. When so much is being felt, said and drained out of the system, then why is language suddenly the biggest hurdle?  Why isn’t convoluted beautiful anymore? Why the sudden urge to deconstruct to be understood by a lot more? Do they really understand what they have apparently understood? A barrage of questions makes the environment uncomfortable.

Why is the mind so oblivious to worrying issues that daily stare at our faces? Contentment just makes the smile so broad that the eyes tend to become small thus losing sight. Discontent causes a frown that just makes the eyes bigger that if not help in seeing at least help in knowing. Earlier raw emotions found solace behind locked doors and a familiar roof.  With so many and so much around now, even the churning of raw is first filtered within.

The gladiator regrets the healing of wounds and scars that once marked several victorious and brave struggles. The scars would have always reminded him (impressions of a well known narrative) of his undefeatable spirit. With the healing now, memories no longer seem reliable and highly susceptible to alterations. Having made peace with situations and people, the battle ground is no longer his serious work place. Inflicting pain that leaves scars and thereby creating a heroic faith in thyself seems the remedy to survive of what is left of life.

Drifting away from the dream, reality allotted or chosen seems like a foolish hope which has longevity for everything unhappy. How do we justify wanting the same that thousands do and claim to be good at? A failed reasoning may cause a delayed chance for at least a trial.
Thy joy has travelled too far to match up with the slow pace of another’s joy.  Thy joy is unbridled with the spirit of a phoenix but blinded like a bat to the universe around. Place over people seems to be the inner call of the day.

Phaedrus, not everything broken can be restored even promises. At least speech wasn’t a deterrent anymore. Did you never give up searching or did the search for you never stop? Although not a leaf has moved outside the window after this conversation, what caused it was something that moved inside.

Sunday, February 26, 2012

A tear and a half

Moments fail to escape me while I fail to understand these moments.

Friday, October 7, 2011

Recall and call

No longer do the peelings of white meet two imperfections of rounded blacks amongst the white. The sway of geometry was not an impending change, repulsion to the constant or a chance to raise the eyebrow for those milliseconds. Green replaces the half of white now only when the yellow decides to bless it with visibility. 

Just the right balance of the transparent and opaque behaving like equals. Physics claims the characteristics to be conspicuous. A little embodiment of Philiosophy is waiting for its turn. It has to be dark for the green to disappear and familiar reflection replaces the otherwise vast expanse. Baring to some, closed up to thyself. Refusal to ponder and acceptance of the routine. 

Phaderus, the jungle is deceiving and ingenious. You need to return for the journey ahead. Ignorance was never the perfect Goodbye. Diffidence bows down with incompleteness. The mischievous escape and the confounded trail deserve the Au pair. Stuttering speech and the rattle tattle of thoughts, is alliteration not a good enough reason to return?  Come back soon. There, I said it.   

Thursday, February 3, 2011

2 Biscuits and Water

Square in shape with corners slit and forming curves which look smooth. Sharp edges willingly etched out symbolizing the generosity by nature/philanthropic by culture/responsible by corporate jargons; inducing and practicing self-flagellation. Golden layered fighting the chemical course desperate to make it yellow and shabby. A few years older than me (23 running (brisk walking rather)) and hence the justified omniscient looks casted down upon me. An importance gathered due to impeccable visibility at a location where it gets noticed without going through the turmoil of search. Lethargy and rest inevitable denied as it threatens its core competency. Seemed like an attention seeker in case of ignorance of more than 15mins. Loud and clear while it did so as if to say – “ Out of sight ain’t out of mind anymore!” followed by chuckles.

Square shaped with smooth edges due to fine finesse. Golden in color slowly fading off as it has been static in location but dynamic in action since years longer than I’ve lived. Located in the entrance hall and hence very noticeable. Have to feed in batteries to it as it is useless if it’s not working coz that’s its JOB!! Every 15mins a tune is heard, different each time in an hour. You can hear it distinctly even if you are in some other room. Yes, the description is a dedication to the ANNOYING ( Di would agree) WALL CLOCK hung at my home . So why the descriptive need about the forest,the trees,the bark,the wood,the ovals indicating the age,the molecules,the atoms,the nucleus? The metamorphosis shall be noticed as you read further. More readable henceforth? Without a doubt. An initiation to be less enigmatic? A note lower than the high pitch, toning down I would say. More footfall? Wouldn’t mind that. More commercial? Rational and relatable I shall say. Does Colin Firth deserve an Oscar for The King’s Speech? You bet he does.

Imagine its 11pm and you have to write a paper at 10am for which you would be forced to leave your place by 9am ( anticipating traffic jams, breaking down of your vehicle,too many buffaloes on a morning walk, drunken men dizzy and finding their way back home on the street,small kids slowing down your speed, women crossing the street looking at one side in a two way street etc.) . If you are the grasshopper from the Aesop’s fable, now (11pm) is the peak time you regret fooling around in the summer. Sleeping is not really on your mind because THERE IS A TASK TO BE DONE – more of desperate attempts to consume few words to scribble on the paper. As you ‘flip’ through the abridged Bibles of your subjects, some people make sure the mosquito net is mounted on the top of your bed giving you no reasons to fall sick and skip the exam. Then comes the statement that your frame of mind does not allow. A statement which might have an intent to calm but has the content which freaks the daylights out of you. It asks you to fall asleep, get early the next day and REVISE what you have studied /prepared all this while. REVISE?? What is that? Revise the minority while the majority lies unattended? Revise should be included under the heading of torture words, just like words ‘nice’, ‘whatever’,’shopping’,’thingy’, ‘anyway’ et cetera. You calm your nerves and explain how that is the last thing that crossed your mind and you needed to STUDY A LOT till the morning. You cannot risk failure by getting sleepy like the Rabbit in the race! The noticeable rise in pride issues under the pretext to merely be mediocre for survival. Focused ambition , ehh? Not really. Rather survival instincts. An opera ends when the fat lady wishes it to. A boxing match ends at the cease of the bell. A dot has the power to restrict a chain of words. Just like that what worsens the situation are the immortal words that flies like a butterfly but stings like a bee. It makes you feel like a crazy Englishman petting his/her dog in Korea where dogs are eating. It questions your beliefs, your (mis)doings, your pathetic time management, you inability to prioritize, lacking of planning, procrastination with stiches in time.

Situational Warrior ( mental agility at the vertex but still broad as the base in terms of action) : “ Have to study. Blah blah. What if cannot do well tomorrow. Blah Blah. “ Trust me you do not wish this to be answered. It was a rhetorical Q but now the arrow has left the bow. Carrots replaced by sticks.The fish is trapped in the net.

Omniscient Ruler : “ So what if you cannot ( not even don’t stressing on the carelessness you have shown) perform well tomorrow? After all, Jo karega woh bharega!!”

As you sow , so shall you reap. The one who has worked on the field will eventually fill up the bags after the yield. Even if I try to translate Hindi – English,the impact and shudder it causes will be unmatched,unparralled and not exact. The knocking on Hope’s door now have become thuds with SOS signals for rescue. Hard hitting and whisks the wind off your face. The most important thing that this line does to you is it berefts you of reasons for your non-performance. Makes you blame no one but yourself. Teaches you go be responsible only if you want to learn your lessons. Otherwise, those are just mean words to say to a poor soul. Add to that the ding-dongs of the dreadful wall clock indicating how short you are of time.

Dabs of boosting self-confidence during the evening in the form of bread pizzas, bit of cuddling, G0- Tiger…s….helps but the last grasps of oxygen as you choke can be the deciding factor.The fur-feet contact under the table was like rubbing against a soft carpet black in color ,lots of fur, white in the chest. You are still thoroughly missed every time my chappels lose their base.

The more YIN approach would be 2 biscuits and water.So is the 4 Rasgulla’s sans sugar syrup is non-fattening which you fall for no matter what age has done to you. Yes, simple, sweet, manageable and re-assuring devoid of the T.word ‘ Revise’. A doable though. Get up early in the morning, brush ,have 2 biscuits and a glass of water and then study . Basically get your thoughts in order considering you are in bad shape, get some mind rest, of course you have studied enough to scrap through, don’t get the panic button yet, feed your hungry stomach, jot down what you feel is important and get back to work. Can’t really escape the work by worry can you? What about the faith you should have in yourself ? Will not question your ability at all albeit serious doubts still exist during household chores and in the kitchen.

At 4am today morning , I woke up only to end up writing this piece. Long sabbatical it has been for me from this blog. An attempt to make it personalized and more in the form of direct speech unlike the earlier posts which acted like sleeping pills , patience test, bouncers in cricket, hons in English fainting of horror due to interpretations by an engineer, reading comprehension practice for competitive exams, tool for marks for the new media subject etc. The attempt wasn’t strategic obviously. It is just the reflection of what is incident on the surface area.

Had 2 biscuits and water before I started writing. No exam today though.

P.S : The Wall clock functions but is impaired in sound. Yang of the family decided to do so.

Monday, September 27, 2010

Restoration or Exploitation of Thyself

When I was just a little girl
I asked my mother, "What will I be? Will I be pretty, will I be rich??
Here's what she said to me.
Que Sera, Sera,
Whatever will be, will be
The future's not ours, to see
Que Sera, Sera .

The librarian plays Solitaire as the kids wait anxiously in the queue, the professor continues ,royally ignoring his inefficiency in teaching and it’s effectiveness in the form of successful distractions amongst students, family business becomes a compulsion and an excruciating U turn from fantasies which get wrapped n forgotten in d name of hobby( with oodles of stories to narrate after 30yrs…notice the pride in their eyes when they do that) for some fresh graduates, the maid servant screams she’ll charge extra for cleaning the pink handkerchief isolated in a heap of white bed sheets , a top brand manager of a popular newspaper feels he is caged in his office n pours his heart out to a 21yr old stranger, the beggar pushes her three tiny tots in a myriad of automobiles because they are a better bet when it comes to the Ka Ching. I wonder what would have happened had they questioned what was being dished out to them. What was fair? What justice and the right to choose means? I wonder if life would have been more miserable for them if these questions were answered. Which of the two makes sense…waiting for the answers or just keep on moving?

Angels from hell ( AFH…they take their job very seriously ) : why advertising after 4yrs of engg.? Why this drastic shift ?

Phaedrus ( 4 clouds of thoughts floating around the head)A) I am interested in the field.Gives me the adrenaline rush. ( Go drink coffee then.More effective….Don’t say this)
B) Working for college events ..which blossomed a liking for the field ( you are from xyz coll. Which is in a town called Nagpur with xyz events relatively small in number. Forget the 450 participants you got for your event. Other colleges from other cities talk in thousands….nope not this)
C) Creative I am. Can’t go with the flow.can’t follow the norms. ( Hmm but do you want to risk scaring them with your rebellious streak already? Think.
D) This is what I want to do. I know a quality education of 2yrs n I would have traveled enough to announce my arrival. Don’t you notice the passion in my eyes and words when I speak about what I like? The heart has reasons that reason cannot know ( hahahaaa. Wrong century,dudette!! Its not thirst to learn , its thirst to earn)

What comes out of the mouth is what lies in the heart…Ohhh Phaedrus, you romantic fool !! The queen of Hearts has always been your best bet. Says Phaedrus : “ if everyone continued with what they started then Rajnikanth would still be a bus conductor n Sean Connery , a milkman.” (option E will occur rarely.we will hesitate to chose it most of the times.only the brave n foolish go ahead with it.)

AFH collapse stupefied .

Satan seems to understand and laughs.

Phaedrus remains an incorrigible dreamer.Now it seems to me, some fine thingsHave been laid upon your tableBut you only want the ones that you cant get….Desperado.

An 18 yr old drags his feet claming it to be a moonwalk in a reality show viewed by millions. Says he has been doing it from d age of one. He has to be like MJ. That is all he knows n that is all he wants. Phaedrus laughs. Somebody save him. She believes she’ll cause rain when she sings the Malhar raag. She begins and frogs surrender to the snakes (its better to die this way than die due to lack of rainfall ..which won’t take place ever ).Phaedrus squeals and rolls on the sofa laughing like a maniac. What makes these fools believe they can sail through their entire life doing something they are not even meant to do? 6 months…Phaedrus, the joke is on you. Can you even manage a smile now? Self awareness needs lot of courage. Unfortunately, it needs a stamp of agreement from people sitting high up there. When you are there, people think that you really know.

Do we really have a control over what we want? Why do others play an important role in deciding our access to our desires? Is is okay to fear that you might go waste? Why is it so agonising when you dare to ask questions but never find the answers? Why is everyone running in the same rat race? Even if you win you still remain a rat. Is is okay to find a reason for each chase? They say I gotta learn But nobody's here to teach me. If they can't understand it, how can they reach me?Ayn Rand says…Nothing is given to man on earth except a potential and the material on which to actualize it.The potential is a superlative machine: his consciousness; but it is a machine without a spark plug, a m/c of which his own will has to be the spark plug,the self starter and the driver;he has to discover how to use it and he has to keep it in constant action.The material is the whole of the universe, with no limits set to the knowledge he can acquire and to the enjoyment of life he can achieve.But everything he needs or desires has to be learned,discovered and produced by him- by his own choice,by his own effort,by his own mind.I'm an educated fool with money on my mind Got my ten in my hand and a gleam in my eye.Too much television watching, got me chasing dreams…The spider continues spinning in the dark in spite of all the times the web is torn apart. Sometimes I wonder whether not questioning is the answer to most of the questions. Very difficult to do so for some one like Phaedrus but saves him from self mutilation.

The Importance Of Acknowledgement

The endearing cheek of a cherubic face, all of 5yrs, broadcasted an unstoppable flow of salty waters amidst the potpourri of faces with smiles that seemed permanently starched. After an investigation carried out to crack the mystery behind d sorrow, the accused ,looking very pretty in pink and of the same age as the victim, was unmasked. She was found guilty of ignoring the crucial information and updates about Barbie and Ken that the former had to share. A treaty was signed and the white flag was waved. An audience was found in one and the speaker was delighted. A few hours later something happened rather something was made to happen which left an impression on my mind. The victim ,no longer so, strutted around along with her mother finding an audience in hundreds. A tantrum for an exotic dress had done the trick.Now she didn’t have to cry for the gal in pink to cater to her wedding plans for Barbie. She was being ‘heard’ because she was being ‘seen/noticed’.

When we are born ,the first thing we are supposed to do is cry.Cry our lungs out.Cry so that we are heard loud and clear and given a thumbs up by the doc for our chances of living beyond the hospital room. When we die, the epitaphs read our duration on this earth.We still want to be heard even after our death.I just didn’t vanish from the face of the earth.I was there for some decades.You better not forget that and I hope your are listening!!

If this world is a stage, I’m sure none of us would want to be a tree .Tree which is laden with fruits but still is just a background display with no dialogues. Everyone wishes to be Old Mcdonald (the only protagonist) and rest to be the farm animals.

I do not detest the desire to be heard in people. A joke shared, the validity of an information crucified by a debate, a sorrow understood ,a speculation steamed and served,an outcry for justice,a plea to condone, a nonsense stretched , a memory revisited, a talent appreciated, an advice consumed/ignored, a proposal heard, a deal fixed ,a success celebrated, a failure criticized, a bark thanking for the biscuit etc etc. We all need to be noticed to be heard. The fact that someone is listening to what you have to say does give a sense of satisfaction and justification that we are not the living dead yet.The topics of conversation changes with different people. As we grow, we become aware of to whom and what we need to say in order to be heard. Your dentist is paid to listen to your toothaches and not about the tiff you had with your boyfriend.As a result we sub consciously choose the information to be shared just to find an honest sounding board in the opposite.

The newspaper reads “ former Tiger mistress predicts bright future with him”.Why does she need to be a clairvoyant suddenly?? She has already done the damage with the affair confessions why this new update? Well, it is simple. She was finally being heard,..heard by millions.She succeeds.An ardent admirer threatens to hang himself if Sonia.Gandhi refuses the PM post. He is heard too…heard for his ‘loyalty’. A politician goes on a hunger strike to highlight his demand. Heard again…heard for his ‘sacrifice’. A superstar refuses to grace an occasion when denied the front row seats. He is heard…heard because he is a ‘brand’..A 19 yr old molestation case ends with a stripping off of a medal and a smirking accused flaunting in front of the cameras.19 yrs of talk and still not heard here.The devastating effects of a heinous crime cleans the ear wax of the authority. Sometimes you need to scream to be heard or sit really high up.

Sometimes indecisiveness, insecurity and fogged vision about the future may lead us to people for an advice. It is perfectly fine but choose your audience. A stranger maybe of some momentary help because his advice will be somewhat unbiased but won’t it be better if you share it with someone who at least knows you better?? Most people just hear us out and not listen. Share but share wisely. There is a luxury in self-reproach. When we blame ourselves, we feel that no one else has a right to blame us. It is the confession, not the priest, that gives us absolution. We tend to confuse attention with a false sense of care. To be seen is not necessarily be heard. A painting can be just stared at or the story behind it can be discussed. Borrow different hues but paint your work alone and make sure you stroke a magnificient story.

Sunday, April 4, 2010

Being Differently Same

Once upon a time in the lively village of Whozwhoville, lived people who called themselves wannabes and wanted to be willbes. The people followed a peculiar custom. Every child was named after a famous celebrity by his/her parents and it was the duty of the child to live up to his/her name. While some parents were over ambitious for their kids, the others reduced the pressure by naming them Cyrus Brocha.

Nobody expected you to be a world famous celebrity but you had to live the profession synonymous to your name and if that was not possible at least you had to do things similar to that person you were named after in your daily life. The people under the former category were called ‘willbes’ because of their sheer will and endurance that made them successful. The latter were called ‘wannabes’ because their efforts didn’t really justify the talent in their names. The town was named inspired by Mr. Khan who was a famous and respected Willbe. He had successfully lived up to his name (named after a very famous Deputy Head Clerk working in the Govt. Pay & Accounts Office in Mumbai).

While everything and everyone continued to live the life assigned to them , a troubled soul seemed to brew inside the girl with the prettiest smile in the village. She was Madhuri Dixit; the patent Sita (much to Karishma’s disappointment) in all the Ram Lila’s and was bestowed with great expectations. She was supposed to dance in a sari every time it rained in the village while the others were safely protected in their old-fashioned duckback raincoats and hide her face like an ostrich and feel shy every time someone complimented her. Although she hated the way she was remote controlled, one thing kept her alive and that was her fascination for aircrafts. With an air-base nearby the village, aircrafts flew frequently in the sky. Her dream was to fly An IAF Mig-29, painted yellow.

She once traveled to a nearby air show sitting uncomfortably on Anil Kapoor’s bicycle. They returned with a bicycle with a punctured tyre.Her mother Helen was shocked by this incident and felt Madhuri needed to lose weight. She decided to stop feeding Madhuri her favorite large paper masala dosa.Madhuri was horrified and decided to put an end to this ludicrous way of life. She decided to visit Mr. Khan and ask him the secret ingredient of his success.

She narrated her miseries to Mr. Khan and he heard them patiently. At the end, he smiled and said “The secret ingredient is... nothing! To make something special you just have to believe it's special.” It turned out that Mr. Khan was actually Dirubhai Ambani’s nephew who was expected to be great in the business sector. He dabbled his entire youth trying to live up to his famous surname but in reality the people around him were more ambitious for him than he himself was. All he wanted is a normal and modest lifestyle. He decided to change his name to Mr. Khan and live somewhere where nobody knew him. When he entered Everyonezville (old name of whozwhoville) he was very handsomely dressed and his manner of speaking was daunting for many. People started looking up to him and slowly the attention made him feel important. One fine day, the Panchayat leader ‘inspired’ by Mr. Khan decided to change the entire relaxed functioning of Everyonezville where everyone was anyone to a more ambitious Whowhozville, where who is who mattered. Everyone shouted in chorus “ What an idea Sirjee!! “

That evening, Madhuri thought and thought and thought some more. Thinking was against the custom considering her name but she did it anyway. The next morning she bundled up her belongings and decided to do what she should have done long before…pursue her dream of becoming a pilot. As she left home bidding adieu to her family , her mother asked what made her take such an extreme step. She coined her words in the simplest form and said “When you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go!!”