Expressions...

Blah days!

2012-02-15T17:05:00.001+05:30

Some days seem just lonely and sad. Like not much matters really. Even the passing of time seems dull, slow. Beloved haunts appear old and deserted. As if entire buildings and structures might crumble down at the slightest whisper of a breeze. Everything seems perishable, delicate, derelict. Dust seems to hang, stagnant, suspended in the air. The sunlight looks dirty, dusty. Even trees seem to have been drained of freshness and life, with wilting leaves that could do with a wash. The birdsong sounds tired. A smile takes effort, laughter seems a dream. Is this ennui? Do places and times influence your mood or do places and times reflect your mood? I have never been able to decide for certain. Perhaps this is just a sign, telling me to move on. To find newer challenges. If I get too comfortable in one place, I will stagnate and get bored and boring. How utterly dreadful!

A year gone by...

2012-01-05T13:38:00.000+05:30

A year is actually so much time passing by. 365 days, 8760 hours, 525600 minutes or 31536000 seconds. Or so Google tells me. You get older, pretend to be wiser, meet new people, fall out with others. There is a certain comfort of familiarity every year. You know the sun will rise and set a certain number of times this year too. The seasons will change with spring gently bidding goodbye to harsh winters and hot blistering summers making the torrential rains feel like a blessing. You will enjoy festivals, look forward to days of celebration or say a quiet prayer for days of remembrance.

Yet what keeps you looking forward to another year is the expectation of something new, something different, something that shall make you happier. Not because the last year has been just old or dull or sad. Oh no! Surely the year gone by was new once. You looked forward to that year with a lot of expectations. You were blissfully happy, you cried a lot and you laughed more. You fought like crazy and yet fell in love, a number of times, all over again. You were praised and berated. You were unbelievably successful some days and a colossal failure on other days. It has been a good year for you, yet the new one beckons. It glitters with promises of more everything, better everything, happier everything.

The year that has gone by has been, for me, one full of moments that make wonderful memories. A year of firsts, of love, laughter, family, togetherness. Umpteen meetings and partings. Adventurous journeys with missed, delayed or cancelled buses, trains and flights. Time seeming to have a will of its own. At times I could sense it dragging along tediously, at others it was rushing by with a whoosh. There are regrets too. But the joys far outweigh these. I look back on this year and I feel thankful for all the wonderful people who have made this year easier, more joyful and memorable. Family, friends, colleagues and of course, the husband. A fantabulous guy. My best friend. Confidant, philosopher, adviser, lover, magician. Thank you for this amazing year. And here's to another beautiful year!

Old spaces and new

2011-11-24T13:10:00.001+05:30

There are places I remember, all my life,

Though some have changed, some forever, not for better

Some have gone, and some remain

All these places have their moments...

In my life I have loved them all.

Iborrow haphazardly from a much loved Beatles song. Today these lines describeperfectly my swirling thoughts and emotions.

Forthe last few weeks we have all been gearing up for major changes in our lablives. There have been massive clean-up missions resulting in the entire placelooking far more cluttered than it did before, even though each time it reallydid seem like we discarded literally sacks of junk! We have discovered ancientstuff that not only looks unidentifiable, but smells weird and is awfullyold-fashioned and outright filthy! There have been many adventures with mice,lizards, spiders and big black fat ants disturbed from their favourite haunts.There have been delighted cries at rediscovering a missing instrument orchemical or even an old greeting card. There have been spontaneous outbursts oflaughter, cut-throat competition to test our abilities to be the best cleanersand junk-removers, many frayed tempers, much teasing and yet, good strongfriendships and togetherness. Nothing tests you better than a situation whereyou need to work cohesively in a group even while maintaining your identity.And I must have some of the best lab mates in the world! We have learnt toleave aside personal differences and gel into a cohesive unit. It also helpsthat each of us has a definite sense of belonging; we feel it is our lab andhence we work because we want to, not because we must or have been told to doso. Hard work, perseverance, some essential planning and an incredibly involvedand enthusiastic boss have made the change seem easier.

Thechange I mention is one of place and space. We move from our old, historical,dilapidated building to the supposedly fancy, new one. We move from acluttered, yet much loved space to a bigger, stranger place. I have loved myold lab. I have learnt a lot here and met an awful lot of lovely people,fantastic seniors and current lab mates, who are more friends than colleagues.Doesn’t a place seem dearer if you have had memorable experiences and forgedimportant relationships in it? It seems like I knew almost every nook andcorner of the old lab. It was comfortably familiar. And as always, letting goof the known is not easy. But, I do like the airy spaciousness of the newplace, the open plan and the light flooding in. It seems like a good place. Iknow it shall now take a conscious effort to make the new place seem ours. To treatit like a new fresh canvas on which to paint our individual strokes with many aflourish and much faith.

Anew sense of belonging is priceless, yet letting go of the old one brings atinge of tears to my eyes. It makes me want to store the memories of the lastlab meeting, the last experiment, the last round of discussions in the oldplace. There is a feeling of sadness when I see the packed boxes, the dusty workbenches and the empty rooms that echo eerily. But change is supposed to be agood thing. And we are supposed to be moving on to better facilities, morespace and opportunities for greater coordination between the biologicalsciences. Even though it seems like a mammoth task at present, I look forwardto the day when it feels like I could walk through the entire building in themiddle of a dark night and yet not lose my way. To the day when I walk into thelab and it feels mine again. I hope we make it into our lucky new place andthat we do some of our best science here in the next few months. I hope wecharge up the space with our enthusiasm and energy. Amen. Or something like it.

Polka-dotted frocks

2011-09-29T20:38:00.002+05:30

Today afternoon I saw two little girls in pigtails, riding their bicycles and giggling away. Their matching polka-dotted frocks, their smiles and the aura of complete freedom around them made me aware of a pang of envy, of longing for times gone.
There was a time when five little girls would all be fitted out in bright matching cotton frocks with identical patterns and frills, just a specially different colour for each one. Those were days of carefree summers, of youth and fearless adventure. Of mangoes, afternoon picnics, hide and seek, tantrums and umpteen tumbles. I can even see their eyes... happy, wide and guileless. Anything seemed possible then, the world was a personal stage. A place where everybody was meant to be happy.
And then the little girls grew up. Back then, I remember I wanted to grow up fast, real fast. Today I wish, sometimes, that we never did have to grow up. That we could have remained that age forever. Friends together. Sisters together. Time never lets you stay that young. It snatches away those moments of togetherness. It makes you grow up. As each of us now looks ahead to a new and different life, I hope we shall remember those happy sunny summers. Those shared holidays and the "gachhi" at aji-papa's house that was our permanent adda and treasure trove! I shall miss those times. Always.

Life Lessons

2011-09-27T21:08:00.001+05:30

I have gone through life believing I am lucky. Have tried to live life in the open wind and the sunshine. I have had a lovely life, full of the most beautiful people and times. Have believed in kindness and niceness and genuine goodness. Trusted with my heart and had faith, always.

Yet not everything is as lovely as it seems. The harsh light brings with it shadows and darkness. You chance upon people who can spoil everything, people you wish you didn't have to meet ever again. Have you met these blurry, shadowy, seemingly crazy, hurtful and self-obsessed people who refuse to grow up and face the world? They never bothered me before because I thought they were just in that bad phase and that they would change... because people are essentially nice. I have never believed that anybody is inherently mean or bitchy. I have never wanted to believe that any person is crooked within. It is just a bad time for that person. They seem to see a grey and glum world and perhaps decide that the world deserves a grey and glum person.

But the world is as it always has been. Real. Lively. Tough. But worth it. Every moment. And I wonder, why do I have to be understanding enough to wait for someone to see the truth? Wait while it hurts? A waiting I do not deserve. What for? For those who see a tainted world? For those who do not think before they speak or act and who do not see or value anything beyond themselves? How fair is this? Is it better to stay still and wait for this to pass? Should I smile and shrug it off or should I react?

I think I like my life better with its love and warmth and friendship. I choose to believe in that. I choose to let that, and that alone, be my truth, my reality.

Another of R's pomes :P

2011-08-04T00:49:00.001+05:30

(An old poem by my lil sister. Found the original handwritten one and laughed over it so much today. Here's to memories of childhood fights and her ability to still see the humour!)

'Tis a night like every other,
'Tis time for my nightly fight,
I must fight for my rights wi' my sister,
She just refuses to put out the lights!

I shout, I argue, I coax
But all of it is in vain.
She just yells right back at me
And tells me I'm a royal pain.

That's it. It's over. Stop it.
I've taken about all I can bear
Now its time for us to call the referee.
And decide exactly who stands where.

Our mother marches in and glares at us,
And berates us for making a din.
We both start pestering my sister
And she eventually caves in.

But she refuses to go down gracefully.
She still will put up a fight.
She bangs about as long as she can
And then reluctantly puts out the light.

And then when the night is almost over,
And when the joy of the fight starts to pall,
She comes and sleeps right next to me.
I mean, we're sisters after all.

--- Rhuta Deobagkar

Charmed Lives

2011-08-02T18:11:00.000+05:30

What am I supposed to do with the oodles of unsolicited advice that jumps at me from around every corner? Even when I don't really have a problem in my life, there is always somebody around that wants to convince me that I am facing, or am about to face, a huge gigantic problem and then they proceed to dole out advice concerning the ways and means to tackle this heretofore non-existent problem. Blah!

First and foremost, I lead a charmed life. If that makes you nod your head and sigh at my immaturity or naivety, all I can say is, "Too bad!" and some more "Blah". I have the most awesome friends and family and I love the work I do. If I crib about all or any of the above at times, it is just to entertain myself, and I do that well. Okay, maybe I do not exactly entertain myself, but some complaining helps to let off steam. It helps me to appreciate all I have after a storm of self pity and self obsession.
Apparently, it makes me seem a lot more interesting if my life is angst-ridden and a veritable tragedy just waiting to happen! The more sorrowful my eyes and the more heart-felt my sighs, the more my life seems 'happening' and 'dramatic'! Albeit, to others. To me it is always dramatic even when it is full of light and laughter with an unbroken series of highs.

And then, there shall be none...

2011-07-07T22:46:00.000+05:30

The weird thing is that we go through life knowing it shall all end. The very fact that I exist implies that I shall cease to do so at some point in time. And I am sure it is rather silly to live an entire lifetime being afraid of what is, after all, unchangeable! So, though I ought to acknowledge that I have only a finite period of time available to me, it never shall make any sense to fear this. Yet, we are all afraid.

So then I ask myself, if I am anyway going to die one day, and I am very well aware of the fact, what is it that I am so afraid of in my life? And you know what, the answers are many! I am afraid of pain, of not knowing, of loss, of uncertainty. Small little things, but each of them makes me fearful. There have been times, when I would have given anything for the absence of pain, physical or emotional. Other times I would give anything to hold on, to never let go. You might very well wonder what I know of pain and loss in my safe little world. And I must agree it is hardly an iota of the pain of millions of others. And yet, to me, my world revolves around my experiences, and I can only speak with reference to those.

I guess, at the end, it shall matter not whether we were afraid, but it shall matter whether we could live with our fears and yet be tremendously happy.

Fevered Musings

2011-06-26T19:31:00.002+05:30

Picture Credits: Aditya Lele

I was feverish all through last night and it was an enlightening experience. Did you know that your mind can be astoundingly creative when you are not completely in control of it? I had vivid dreams. I wove stories in my mind. Each one spilling into the other. Never ending. Surreal. Nightmarish. The characters were strong and well defined. They went places, they did things, and they lived larger-than-life lives. I kept telling myself to note each detail. Something about the exact words to perfectly catch an expression or the heartbreakingly beautiful way with words I seemed to have discovered. I wrote it all down. My masterpiece. On paper. In black and white. Or so I thought.
Alas, the fever broke with the dawn and with it were gone my stories. My poor little stories. Washed away. Just like that.

2011-05-22T01:02:00.001+05:30

Some days I am so lost within myself that I forget to look outside. Remind me about the world at those times.
When I get obsessed with my problems, my schedule, my life, remind me that the world does not revolve around me, neither shall it stand still for me.
On those days when I am outstandingly horrible, smile and love me. I promise to be better.
When I make too many demands, indulge me. I shall make up for the insanity.
At times there are so many voices in my head, I forget it is my own voice that is getting drowned. Help me hear it clearly.
When I am all hung up on how the entire world is against me, let me know, again, that you are on my team.
Laugh with me and at me, always.

“Don't walk in front of me; I may not follow. Don't walk behind me; I may not lead. Just walk beside me and be my friend." ---- Albert Camus

All that is bright and beautiful...

2011-03-21T00:26:00.001+05:30

When did we become so cynical? When did we stop believing in good endings and happily-ever-afters? When did our first reaction become a sarcastic snort and a sharp toss of the head instead of a smile and a twinkle in the eye? When did we stop wincing upon hearing about massive devastation or a minor loss?
Is it just me or has everybody around become a little tougher, a little harder and a lot less sensitive? We seem to take even major disasters in our stride, as if it is all but natural! Gory details do not seem to disturb us, nor do the sight of atrocities. We just casually flip the newspaper sheet aside or change channels or move on. We voice opinions volubly and knowledgeably and yet never seem to be really touched by the pain that is somebody else's life.
I do not know whether this is a kind of defense mechanism. Perhaps if we let everything affect us, we shall never be able to get on with the daily business of living. So letting it all flow over may seem like a good idea. It is when this becomes a habit and not just a temporary reaction, that it frightens me. Not letting something disturb you and being obviously nonchalant and flippant about it are completely different reactions. But does this mean that we have stopped believing in the good and the beautiful? Have we grown accustomed to everything being gray and dingy and dull and soulless? Or do we at least sometimes wish to see fresh colour around every corner and look forward to warmth and brightness and life?
I so want to believe in goodness and beauty and justice and all things wise and wonderful. At times I just long for the strength to believe. All else shall fall in to place then. Or so I hope.

Old and new

2011-03-20T23:52:00.000+05:30

Have you ever realized that to really accept something new and to make it part of you and your life, you need to let go of the old, at least for a while? You have to get to the point where the new is as much natural for you as the old. And this has to do with acceptance. It takes a lot of conversation with one self and others. It comes with the added baggage of guilt and feelings of disloyalty about all that shall be missed awhile. It is not easy. Trust me. Some heartache, a few tears and a lot of thought and will power are called for.
And surprisingly the new is something that you are looking forward to with all your being. It is exciting and promising. Yet it is frightening. The old is comfortable and warm and something you have gotten used to, till it has become second nature. They say moving on is part of life. But that is easy when you want to break off with the old. Moving on to the new while never cutting off all the strings that bind you to the old is mighty tough.

At times it seems like all of life is a balancing act. You don't lose perspective and keep your focus on maintaining balance and all shall be well. The only problem is that you are not always lucky enough to have a broad beam to balance on, sometimes you need to walk on incredibly thin ropes... But in the end, it all seems worth the while and the pain and the laughter as long as some one is holding your hand along the way.

Moving Pictures

2011-02-18T20:39:00.002+05:30

I am fascinated by cinema, by theatre and by books. Not necessarily always in that order. In fact a good movie or book can keep me away from so many 'more important' things in life. Do I regret it? Never! But this passion makes me ask myself what exactly is it about this often 'unreal' world that draws me?
I love movies, and I love deciding what is good cinema for me, not just what is supposed to be good cinema. Oftentimes, somebody else's idea of a great movie may not be the same as mine. That leads me to the question, what is it that we desire, expect, derive from watching a movie? Is it just the appreciation of another person's vision, creation? Is it for pure entertainment? Is it for education? Is it in order to be awed? Is it in order to lose yourself for a while?

What is it about a movie that appeals to you the first and the most? These may not be the same at all!
To me, the story is incredibly important. It does not have to always be going somewhere straightforward, or be life-changing or terribly profound and realistic. But it should have something, a moment perhaps that touches me and draws me in. Then the rest might be mundane but I am hooked! I do not understand direction, editing, cinematography and so on, so all I can say is a beautiful frame is definitely a plus, makes the experience more aesthetic but it is not a requisite for the movie-watching experience to be fulfilling. Of course, a brilliantly crisp story with all the correct ingredients can fall flat if the actors are wishy-washy. They need to be able to make me believe the characters they are playing. That's all. Sometimes actors are so into themselves that they never stop being themselves. That gets on my nerves. Also, special effects and action sequences never seem to impress me. So no dhishoom dhishoom for me!

I make no claims about being a highly evolved, discerning and knowledgeable movie-watcher at all. But I think that a movie that engrosses me, makes me want to be an onlooker of the scene unfolding, if not a participant is all that is essential to make me watch it in its entirety. Otherwise, I am sorry to say, I have grown to be a fan of the fast-forward button. Which explains how I get through 4-5 movies in one night.
Oh, and the trigger for all this unnecessary thought... the movie Ijaazat. I fell in love with it, all over again. Cried bucketloads, marveled about the strength of the roles written, Rekha's beauty, the poetry and the music, the non-judgemental treatment of the story! It almost breaks my heart to watch something like this and yet I choose to go through the experience again and again, because it feels like I live through all that the characters experience!

Is there a movie that made you want to stop everything else and just watch it endlessly? Over a lifetime, there may have been many, perhaps you could tell me about them :)

Alone

2011-01-30T18:36:00.000+05:30

This has been a surprisingly lonely evening. I have never been a lonely soul. I flourish in solitude, can keep myself company even amidst seething crowds. Spending time with myself comes easily to me, reading, writing, dabbling with paints or watching a movie, listening to long-loved tunes or just staring into space. Solitariness still does not bother me, but unexpected pangs of loneliness come a-visiting sometimes now. They are rare, but intense when they arrive.

Moments when I feel the urge to grab the phone and demand conversation. Or feel like taking myself off to crowded markets. Maybe a sea of unknown faces might help restore perspective. They make me long for a smile, a whisper, a whiff, or just a glimpse. They make me long for the familiar and the known and beloved. It is not a question of just missing the presence of friends or family. It is the atmosphere I miss, one of laughter and conversation and silent companionship.
But before I venture out to find a cure for this blasted loneliness, it is gone, as swiftly as it descended. And I am happy again, at peace, contented. There! Am fine again, myself again :)

Strings of Words

2011-01-21T20:46:00.001+05:30

Today I am in the mood for strings of words. They are not random. They tell me a story filled with the richest of colours and the sweetest of music. It is up to you to let your imagination take over and create your own story. I know mine and I have thoroughly enjoyed it. You shall enjoy yours too if you live every moment of your imagination, draw on all your creative resources and give it a personal touch from memory. Words are magical; depending on how you string them together they can tell you completely different stories of different people and places. Hope you like yours :)

Long journeys, great expectations, vibrant colours, lyrical laughter, gently wiped tears, whirling emotions, wafting musical notes, a soft fragrant breeze, clasped hands, fire and smoke, stolen glances, whispered conversations, suppressed smiles, glistening eyes, friendly crowds, doting families, mothers and fathers, hordes of dear friends, wise old men, solemn vows, a smile and a nod, twirling flowers, of old and new, beginnings and ends, beloved traditions, open minds, silken fabrics, golden threads, unbroken faith, a meeting of hearts, a parting of sorts, new memories, treasured moments, all of life lived within one breath!

High up in the Sky

2010-12-09T13:12:00.001+05:30

It is a "my-breath-rushes-out-and-my-heart-skips-a-beat" experience. To rise through a dull and misty fog on an overcast, dark day and suddenly glimpse heaven. I have done that, with my nose pressed firmly to the tiny window, which invariably mists over with my afore-mentioned rushed-out-breath. That precise moment when I rise right above the clouds as they hang there in mid-air, in suspended animation, as if they are mighty surprised to find a non-cloud in their midst. When I am gently speeding past the fluffy landscape of clouds and wondering if they will indeed be as soft to the touch as they appear, it makes me feel so tiny and yet so blessed, like I am special :)
This time around it was an even more special sight. Moon mania is all very well, but lately I seem to have been captivated by the sun. Watching the sun rise, its blinding brightness and its warmth seeping into the clouds, making them seem translucent, making them come alive, was a delight!
The glaring, glowing sun, the black and golden clouds and the cold blue skies are like a study in contrasts. There are of course times when the clouds have been angrily thunderous, just waiting to spark and roar, while the sky looks darkly blue and black. Yet they are wondrous, in all their savage beauty. They never frighten me, because they never intend to do so. They just are. That is something to learn. To just be. Yourself. Alive.

The air up there in the clouds is very pure and fine, bracing and delicious.
And why shouldn't it be? It is the same the angels breathe.
~Mark Twain

Quicksilver thoughts

2010-11-16T22:26:00.001+05:30

Is it the season for ups and downs? For mercurial flashes of temper followed by even brighter sparks of good humour? It is akin to riding a roller-coaster with all brakes inexplicably nonexistent. So many inputs. Friends' troubles, my emotions and their unpredictability, people's reactions and their predictability, my frustrations, and eventually better perspectives and the chance to laugh at it all.
Is it always essential to live life at full speed, rushing headlong into everything even while envying others their calm and undisturbed tempers? It means that I love with all my being, I hate with all of it too. I laugh, cry, shout, scream and react with my head and heart all jumbled in between. This way is exhaustive but fun. Perhaps it beats the 'consider, pause, observe, contemplate and then react' kind of situation. But it sure leaves me drained. Of energy, of spirit, of strength. I need to then phase out, withdraw and replenish.
Everything just has to be intense, extreme. It makes me long for Zen-like calm. Someday I hope to achieve that. Serenity, Tranquility, Peace. The ability to remain completely motionless, in mind and body.
Till then, here's to madness and the whirlwinds. To the waves that come and go. To the winds that blow everything away. To rains that crash down with thunder, yet leave all behind them, clean and green. Here's to living every moment to the fullest and knowing that the tears and the laughter shall mingle, and together shall make life seem kaleidoscopic, filled with umpteen fleeting designs and colours.

Tales of Tales

2010-10-14T00:54:00.001+05:30

Some memories are precious indeed ... and so many of mine are immersed in the pages of long beloved and much treasured books. It is well nigh impossible to pick only a few books from the many that I have fallen in love with. Yet, having decided to relive my first experiences with atleast a few books, here goes ...

A. A. Milne's 'Winnie-The-Pooh' was a childhood favourite. Of Pooh coming down the stairs upside-down with Christopher Robin every morning and wondering if there wasn't any other way down the stairs even while banging his head on each stair. By which time they would generally be downstairs already so it wouldn't matter any more and they would be ready to set off on a new adventure. Pooh's immense love for honey, Eeyore hunting for his lost tail, Piglet and Pooh's friendship and their fascination with Roo and Kanga, Owl's apparent wisdom, the entire Rabbit family and oooh, the Heffalump! Tra-la-la, tra la-la, Tra-la-la, tra la-la, Rum-tum-tiddle-um-tum, Tiddle-iddle, tiddle-iddle, Rum-tum-tum-tiddle-um. And best of all, aai telling me Winnie-the-Pooh stories over and over again when I was too young to read ... ensuring that I fell in love with the characters and imagined them in my own rich, fantasy-filled world every time I did read the stories myself.

Another book I remember being absolutely in love with was Gerald Durrell's 'Rosy is my Relative'. It was so engrossing that it became utterly impossible for me to keep the book down and I had to finish it in one go. It is mighty difficult to pick a favourite scene ... Adrain's surprise at being bequeathed a drink-loving, yet gentle-tempered elephant. The myriad characters he encounters on his journey to the sea-side to sell off Rosy. The ballroom escapade with Rosy pulling down the chandeliers and the pantomime disaster. The court room scenes with the lawyers and the jury and the judge all confused and yet plodding along... Adrain's love for Samantha, Rosy's love for drink and everybody else's love for utter bedlam made for one of the best reads in my life ever!

Durrell's 'My Family and Other Animals' and 'Birds, Beasts and Relatives' were enjoyable too, not just because of his unintentionally hilarious family but because of his descriptive style of writing. Strawberry-pink villas, forests full of olive trees, loud Greeks and their love for life, food and wine ... Corfu came alive in Durrell's books and his friends, mother, brothers and sister made his animal adventures even more exciting and lively. I am sure the puns in his titles were absolutely intended. He introduced me to phrases like 'deliciously sick' and 'forests that chirped and came alive' and I have been a Durrell fan ever since.

Enid Blyton's books ... Malory Towers, St. Clares, Five Find-outers, Famous Five, The Magic Faraway Tree, and umpteen other awesome books were the stuff that kept me sane during school holidays. A book a day was the norm and I am so thankful that there were good lending libraries in the area I grew up in ... and that my parents were ardent book lovers too, always believing that a book was of course the best gift ever! Blyton's stories have a charm, and though many have criticized her writings for their orthodox style and the implied anti-feminism or discrimination, I do not believe a child will ever be negatively affected by her stories unless an over-smart grown up tries to prejudice the young reader. Her tales are simple, imaginative and full of life. Harry Potter came along much later; magical stories for young adults have been around for far too long before J. K. Rowling wrote her books.

Classics such as Hitchhiker's Guide, Jane Eyre, Mill on the Floss, David Copperfield, Pride and Prejudice, Oliver Twist, A Tale of Two Cities, and so many others have all been on my book shelf at some time or the other. Later I found John Grisham, Arthur Hailey, Jeffery Archer, Ayn Rand and its been an ongoing journey of discovery. Every visit to a book store brings the realization that there is so much I have never read! Over the years, I have forgotten the names of some of the people who introduced me to each new genre. But they enriched my life and made sure that as long as I can read books, I shall never be lonely here. Novels, short-stories, autobiographies, travelogues, diaries ... so many forms of writing. Sometimes I wish that life could be a long long summer vacation and I could just curl up in a comfy chair and read, with no regard for the passing of time and the oh-so-important work and life that constantly await us.

Yippee!!!

2010-09-23T02:02:00.009+05:30

IISc Marathi Mandal rocks at the Ganeshotsav One-act play Competition organized by Maharashtra Mandal, Bangalore!
We had put up a play at the Competition this year (16th September 2010). It was the first time we participated at this event.
There were five of us on-stage and an incredibly awesome team back-stage and it was a seriously thrilling, exhilarating experience!
And like dark-chocolate-mouth-watering icing on a super-delicious cake, we won the top prizes in all categories except script-writing since that we had borrowed (though it was wholeheartedly modified a lot with creative inputs from Anirudha, Anup, Shantanu, Pramod and poetic contributions from Amrut). Three cheers for the original script writer though!

1. Best Drama (One-act play) - Artificial Intelligence
2. Best Director(s) - Anirudha and Anup
3. Best Actor (Male) - Anirudha
4. Best Actor Runner-up (Female) - Jahnavi
5. Best Supporting Actor (Male) - Anup
6. Best Sets/Background - Madhumita, Nivedita, Vishal, Siddharth, Atul, Bharat, Nagraj
7. Best Sound/Music arrangement - Abhijit, Shantanu, Amrut, Harshawardhan, Siddharth
8. Best Light arrangement - Ravi

This has been one of the "funnest" times ever! Hip Hip hooray!
आवाज कुणाचा? आय. आय. एस सी.चा!

The Stage

2010-09-03T18:06:00.000+05:30

Dark spaces everywhere,

Muted whispers in the air.

Faceless entities floating around,

Anxious flutters all abound.

Bells ring, curtains are drawn.

Flood of light ... the play's on.

Charged spaces, myriad characters,

A story told, amid tears and laughter.

Captive audiences,

Fleeting emotions.

Of stolen glances,

Actions and reactions.

Silences that speak aloud

Faces that talk to the crowd

Real and unreal converge,

And all my worlds seem to merge...

A matter of trust

2010-08-28T21:18:00.003+05:30

Returning from an errand, I met a rickshaw-wallah the other day, who set me thinking. Upon being told my destination, he was full of questions. About my place of study, where I come from, whether the courses are difficult, the accommodation, the campus, the admission process, the composition of the student community and so on. I was a little reluctant to answer his questions and evaded them in what I thought was a skillful manner. You don't go around divulging personal details to absolute strangers, do you?
Having managed to try and give monosyllabic answers for most of his questions, I was almost patting myself on the back when he turned around and apologized for his inquisitiveness.
"Madam, my son an engineer. He study here, but now job in Pune. Good job. Very proud. Hard work, you know. I want him to study more. So asking you. Sorry, madam if you don't like it."

I was ready to dig a hole through the floor of his rickshaw and allow the earth to swallow me up, metaphorically speaking. What kind of person had I turned into if I had allowed my essential niceness to be swallowed up in the safety drill!?!

Why is it that we are taught to not trust strangers? We are born with the ability to look at the world like it is full of the most innocent and beautiful people. It is as we grow up that the prejudices set in, become ingrained in to our psyche and we turn into suspicious, small-minded adults! I hate the fact that the minute I see a stranger staring or a slightly different/weird looking individual walking by me in a slightly lonely locality, the thought immediately crosses my mind that this person might mean some harm and I should be ready to face anything. I should be careful, mindful of my own safety and so on.

And then the guilt crashes in. That such thoughts come visiting. Perhaps they are important in today's world. But that human beings have lost such faith in others of their own kind is disturbing. It is not fair to the other person or people. I would hate it if anybody thought such awful stuff about me for no particular reason. I would hate it even more if perfectly innocent people who just happened to be around, minding their own business, or perhaps even wondering if I am a safe person while passing me by, could look into my head and read my thoughts.

It is sometimes difficult to follow all the rules of this world. At least in the present day and age...
What are we always told about strangers right from the time we are kids? DON'T talk to strangers. Strangers can be bad, can be cruel, can mean trouble. Stay away from them. Very important life lesson indeed. Especially when one considers the statistics about crimes where children and women more especially, and even men in many cases, are the victims. Strangers can indeed be dangerous, at times.

But when is the "no strangers" rule supposed to be eased a little bit? At what age is one supposed to be grown up and able enough to judge people, especially strangers? Because every new person is a stranger and many might turn out to be people you could treasure, awesome people. And doubting them to begin with does not make for a happy time ahead, in fact, might mean driving away the very people who might be meant to travel the roads with you...

Somehow we need to strike the perfect balance between staying safe and away from harm even while being good human beings, who trust and judge correctly. That, I believe, is the essence of all that growing up, maturity and wisdom. Perhaps life and experience teaches you this, it is not something you can learn in a class or from a book about morals and values. This might be why our parents and grandparents seem so much wiser. They have seen, lived and learnt, a process that takes patience and time. But having to live in a fast-forwarded world today, where we have so little time to invest in wisdom, we forget to learn. Perhaps every now and then, I ought to stop and think for myself if I am the kind of person I like. Then I might yet end up the kind of person I could like if I ever met myself as a stranger...

Constant Change

2010-07-18T16:25:00.001+05:30

Change is supposed to make life more interesting. Change is necessary for life. Change is good. Change is the way of the world.

Seasons change and each one seems to enthrall me.

Winter with its bone chilling cold and the pleasures of snuggling under blankets or the stylish layering of colourful sweaters and scarves and hats. It brings along the Festival of Lights and heart-warming sweets and and the Christmas spirit and the New year.

And then, before you even know it, Spring has crept up upon you and the world is a riot of smells, flowers and colours and chirping birds and myriad shades of green everywhere you look! At times i wish i were a painter and could capture the feelings that arise within me and put them down on paper with just a brush-stroke!

Even while the birds are yet singing their songs and the flowers are still peeking out, Summer announces itself with its sweltering heat and constant sticky sweatiness and sweet, cold long drinks and ice-lollies and unending ice-creams and the squeaking of the fan spinning at full speed.

Summer showers remind me of the fact that there is yet an entire lovely season to look forward to. In India, we call it the Rainy season :) I simply rejoice in the rains. If i were a poet i could write something about the rains watering my soul and so on...
The dark grey clouds sweeping into the blue skies majestically, the expectant stillness of the air, the rolls of thunder and a stray flash of lightening and then the first sweet raindrops. How many of you have stood still and just spent a moment inhaling the scent of the first rains as they hit the dry parched earth? I am sure you will agree with me that it is perhaps one of the most enticing smells ever! And then the sheets of water cascade. The pitter-patter changes to relentless thundering and i wish that the seasons would never change...

I have often wished that i could willfully choose some changes and completely wish away others.

I love my life as it is right now, the predictability of certain things, the routine, the responses of the people in my life, the people themselves! We always take so many aspects of our lives for granted. The family we are born into, the places we have lived in, friends, home, the choices we made, the freedom to make those choices, our right to self-involvement, everything! But then i would never be able to experience the differences that the changes bring along, the new experiences. Twelve months of rain would perhaps bore me. It is the fact that winter and summer and spring and rain come and go that they seem so interesting. Like having something to look forward to. So here's to wishing for a lifetime of changes and the joy of looking forward to each as if it were a new adventure :)

Self-worth

2010-06-18T21:30:00.003+05:30

It feels nice to be surrounded by people who always like me or at least seem to do so. People who say nice things, think i am sweet and charming, who promise to be there for me if i shall ever need them, albeit, in the future. But the danger is that, i get used to all this "niceness". Even while knowing that it probably is not all real. So much so that, when a person that really cares stops me on the way and hands out a few home truths, my ability to listen and understand seems to have disappeared. Apparently too much of the good stuff makes me "highly sensitive"! Criticism becomes difficult to handle if one has gotten too used to praise and flattery. Even when the chiding and the good advice come from sane, sensible people that I know really care for me. Only because they never show it in the over-the-top way that seems to be the fashion today.

I might know what is good for me, the problem is, what is good is not always comfortable and happy-go-lucky. It pricks and hurts and exposes my flaws. Makes me not like myself for a while. And not liking myself, not being happy with the person i am is terrible. It keeps haunting me... have i really turned into a so-and-so kind of person? On the other hand, questioning myself helps. Keeps me grounded. Tries to not let me get a balloon head or become terribly hoity-toity! Most of the times :)

Do you also believe that it is way more important that you be able to like yourself, really know that you are worthy of something or someone... more important than all the lovely things the entire damned world might think or say about you?

Saying it right

2010-06-01T22:14:00.002+05:30

When you decide to say sorry, it only makes sense to do so if you do it right. That is, you realize you have completely messed up and you need to apologize big time, but if you do it in a half-hearted fashion, or with conditions attached, then it is absolutely pointless!

I have met people who have said their sorrys even while stressing (ok, perhaps just hinting) that they are still in the right and that they have the complete and full right to mess up, yet are saying the words because it is the expected thing. Back off! You just don't have to say sorry that way. It is useless. It makes no one feel any better. You are still upset because you think the situation is forcing you to apologize and you are not making the other person feel any better since they can always tell your feelings are not genuine! So it is far far better to just shut up, get over the hurt feelings either way and then come back later and say a real sorry that you mean and that comes from your heart. Not one to save your face or just patch up or just because somebody else thinks you should say so.

And mind you, it is not easy to let yourself become so vulnerable and actually be able to get those words out. I think if you can't do it right face to face, it is perhaps an option to show just by your actions that you have realized your mistake and want to make amends. That gives the other persons some time to think too. But whatever the situation, the very minute you realize you are actually in the wrong and you have been able to at least see the other perspectives, you ought to make those amends really quick. Like asap! It makes you feel a whole lot lighter, better, happier :)

This and that...

2010-05-20T01:59:00.000+05:30

Here is a list of stuff I love, on either side of the or ...

Fireflies or fairy lights
Passionate moments or everyday romance
Succinct short stories or long engrossing novels
One bosom friend or many acquaintances
Everyday internet chats or a day of face to face silence
Saving face or letting go and laughing at yourself
Risking and losing all or safe no-risk ways
Long summery days or sweet winter nights
Joys of solitude or loneliness amongst crowds
Telling a lie to comfort or telling the truth and then offering your shoulder
Drenched in the rain or being dry under a shared umbrella

My favourite one, and currently the most difficult:
Hit the gym or grab the chocolate :D

Rainy quotes

2010-04-21T21:05:00.001+05:30

Its been pouring down all evening and I am drenched. Drenched in rain, in happiness, in mad laughter and that slight twinge of sorrow just coz I cannot capture this moment in time and send it along to far away places. Are you ever too grown up to stop loving the rain? I hope not, ever!

Doesn't everybody have their own memories of rain? Memories of coming back from school splashing through puddles, of paper boats and road side rivers, of aai making a delicious hot snack even while scolding you for getting all wet, of riding the scooter with baba through streets flooded with water. Nursing cups of steaming chai while watching the rain streaming down glass panes, of two people sharing one umbrella. Of train rides, mountain sides, tea gardens, beach trips with the family. Watching the rain pelt the sea with gigantic drops, waves rising and falling, almost as if the sea were in torment. Of trees swaying and winds whistling. Hailstones. Thunder and lightening. Peacocks in their glory, albeit, at the zoo. And later, the glistening droplets left behind on leaves, the chocolatey-brown muddy water, the squishy canvas shoes and dripping hair and dresses :)

Rains are good, they nourish the earth. They nourish my soul. They can cause havoc. And yet can bring along so much joy. Either. Or. Everything seems to be a case of this or that. Two sides to the coin. Depends upon which side you are looking at right now :)

Slow down you crazy child...

2010-04-10T17:35:00.000+05:30

Its been a mad rush. A good rush, one that gives me a high, yet crazy, out of control, like being on a roller coaster and being pushed down a smooth granite mountainside with no brakes, no hand-holds. Just the speed, thrilling yet frightening. Do I make sense? Moments when i need to stop and look. Not just at the world inside my head, but at the myriads of people talking. Try and make sense out of them, let their voices filter in and their faces come into focus.

2010-02-28T22:39:00.003+05:30

The very first photo I have ever uploaded to my blog. A collage of campus places and the seaside trip with the family. This was just an experiment. Eventually hope to put up a travelogue-type post. Hopefully. Pictures of places look good, but I think a picture becomes a little more interesting if there are people in it. Sort of enhances the character of the photo, lends it a story and time. Perhaps coz people age and though places do too, they do so rather slowly... the passage of time can be observed better if one knows the people in the picture.

Hello Hi Goodbye!

2010-02-22T18:28:00.000+05:30

So many people.
So little time.
So much to say.
Silence divine.

Old friends, old expectations...
Changed people, broken promises.
Some laughter, a little sorrow.
Everything shall be gone, by tomorrow.

Why is it so difficult
to say I miss you?
Why is it easier
to pretend you love the new?

Goodbyes were already said.
So why did you return?
To haunt me and taunt me.
To laugh as my heart burns.

Partings were never easy
But they get harder every time.
And yet meeting once more seems far better
than to part for ever and ever this time.

Forgive the bad rhyme, but prose just sounded way more stilted and trite than this. There have been so many goodbyes, so many "catch-you-laters" in the last year or so that one might think that it shall get easier the next time. But it just gets worse. And I know that there shall be many more in the years to come. Still, a thousand goodbyes are way better than to never meet all these people again. Love you guys!

To let go and yet love so much...

2010-02-08T22:35:00.002+05:30

I miss this lady who was strong and wise and fun and all things warm and wonderful. My grandmother. She has been gone a month now yet in my mind she lingers on. Sentimental do you call me? But really, on a day to day basis, I do not wallow in sadness and despair... nor does anybody else who loves her. Simply because that is not the way to be. If a life has been well and fully lived, you cherish the memories of that person and go on with the rest of your life with the utmost zest. What does hurt and hurt bad though is that sudden moment in time when I think of her and it strikes me anew that someone I love is never going to be mine anymore... those half-written but never sent letters, those many conversations that were yet to be had, old stories that I was going to listen to some day. Stuff I want to tell her... so many times to come in my life that I want her to know, to be there with me all through. And it is only at those freakish moments that I cannot help but let the tears fall. At all other times, I am strong. Some things you just gotta learn to live with and smile through because the person you are thinking of deserves all those smiles :)

She was an amazing lady. If a gal needed a role model, she would have been the ideal one. Not that she would have pointed herself out as a perfect person. Constant improvement, constant progress, constant effort. Determination and the strongest and most resilient will I have ever come across. So much wisdom gathered through a lifetime of experience. Makes me wonder if that is the way of life, to learn all along and yet to take a lot of it along with you. She was a teacher and her students must remember facets of her that I must have never seen. To me she was this person that was tied in with this place. A place that felt like home always. Maybe because I spent a while growing up there. Being her eldest grandchild made me feel selfishly special. Like she would always love me that little bit more than everybody else.

For me, that she was a wonderful human being is manifested in the fact that she brought up her own children to be some of the finest people I have ever known. Incredibly loving, strong, sensitive, yet upfront and honest and each unique. That she let each one of them be the independent person they could be, never let them be fettered and still made sure there were strong bonds between them... tells of the person she was. No wonder my grandpa loved her so much! Never a person to let anybody take her decisions for her, she took in the best of all the worlds she could visit and created her own best version of it. It worked well enough for her. Or so it always seemed to me.

There are so many facets of this lovely lady who has been an important part of my life... her teaching, her experiences, her people, her plants and the mad love she felt for them... this list can be unending. So much I can say, and yet so much I don't know about her life. I realized only after she was gone that there were so many people in her life, so many untold tales, and they are probably lost to me forever now. It is funny how one person can have been enmeshed in the lives of so many others... may be that is the essence of being a human being. You must reach out and meet new people, let them into your life and become a part of theirs. That way, you live just one life but you get the experiences of so many... Like living a million lives all at once.

Here and there...

2010-01-03T19:09:00.001+05:30

I have decided that I would rather have the journey than the destination. Reaching some place has come to mean farewells and separations, tears and sad tidings. Atleast so it seems lately. The anticipation of the "traveling" phase seems far better than the actual "reaching the place". Not that all travels have made me feel this way. There have been some that made me feel right on top of the world. Its just right now that the time does not seem right. Though this too shall pass...

Have also realized that the only way to be a good speaker, one who is heard and whose words and thoughts are noted by the audience, is to be a damn good listener. If you listen to people, understand what they are trying to tell you, only then shall you know what is the right thing to say at a particular moment.

Also, have you ever thought about the fact that when you were born, the world was a place wth no restrictions, no impossibilities, no limits? It is as you grew up that people told you about rights and wrongs, about rules and dos and don'ts. It is perhaps essential in order to maintain a social structure and order. But it is saddening when you think that this means putting limits on dreams, creativity and all that could have been.

Poetry 101 :D

2009-11-30T00:32:00.004+05:30

Some days just have moods of their own. Today was one such day. Lazy beginnings, clear skies, warm delightful movies (My Fair Lady, While you were sleeping), friends and loved ones and then amazing ghazals. The mood of the entire day was one of unhurried joy and laidback comfort. So basically a day when thoughts kept flitting in and out of my mind... lingering and teasing, resting and moving on. The ghazals made me think of poetry in general and word pictures that some people are so amazingly able to paint!

I don't always understand poetry. Sometimes it is because the words used are way beyond my vocabulary, sometimes because the emotion/situation within the lines is not of my life, of my experience. But some words, some lines, some poems cannot but leave you untouched! I had heard this quote somewhere "Sometimes someone says something really small and it just fits right into this empty place in your heart." And beautiful poignant poetry does that to you, leaves you feeling like you just had to listen to those lines atleast once in your life! Perhaps it is because of the pictures that those words paint, perhaps they let you travel back and forth in time. You can relive old times, remember the happiness, the pain, the laughter and tears. You can dream of the future or even dream of things that you know are improbabilities in your life. But even those few moments of dreams are worth the regret of knowing that they shall perhaps never come true.

Some poetry is for the solitary soul, some for crowds, some is for when you are with friends or family, some for when you are with a special someone. I think not all poetry is perfect for me. What you like may not evoke a similar reaction from me. Some lines might actually make me imagine a fragrant breeze, the whisper of waves on the shore or even show me glimpses of the lives of the people whose story unfolds in those lines. Some make me smile gently to myself, others make me laugh out loud or even bring forth unwilling tears. But the wonderful part is that there is always some poetry for everybody. You just have to find your kind. Someone has already written it, or shall write it for you. Best of all, may be you can write poetry for yourself. You never know what is hidden within you till you actually begin to search :)

Also, the same poem can mean so many different things to different people. Each person has his or her own interpretation irrespective of what the poet initially meant to convey. That is the entire beauty of it. The freedom to love and understand something without rules. Seriously, when first attempting to read poetry and to understand it, if we go beyond the figures of speech and the rhyme scheme and all that and just get to the meaning and depth of the poem, then poetry will be dear to so many more people. The rhyme scheme is important but secondary to the story that the poem means to tell. The rhythm, the words and their awesome power and the figures of speech make it all richer, but it is the original idea that makes up most of the magic.

I am sure each one of you has a couple of lines of some poem, song, ghazal that has lingered in your mind way after you heard it or read it. Perhaps you could leave those lines here as comments for this post :)

notes...

2009-11-11T03:59:00.006+05:30

रात्री आपण बोललो आणि मग चहा घेऊन झाल्यावर एक थोडा वेळ सुनिता बाईंचे "आहे मनोहर तरी ..." वाचून मग निघू असा विचार करून मी वाचायला बसले. आणि काय माहित का, पण वाचता वाचता असं वाटायला लागलं की आपल्याला कळलेले पु. लं आणि त्यांनी पाहिलेले भाई हे इतके वेगळे होते. एखाद्या माणसाबरोबर २४ तास राहिल्याशिवाय खरा माणूस आपल्याला कळतच नाही ना रे! म्हणजे काही तो माणूस चांगला किंवा वाईट हे ठरवण्याबद्दल नाही म्हणत आहे मी. वाईट judgement नाही करता येणार त्या माणसाबद्दल कारण आपल्यासाठी तो तसाच सही असतो, पण जवळच्या व्यक्तीसाठी दुसराच कुणीतरी. मधूनच असं वाटून गेलं की आयुष्यभराचा साथीदार या पेक्षा थोडं वेगळ नातं होतं त्यांचं. मित्र तर होतेच पण कुठेतरी त्यांचंच मूल ही असल्यासारखं वाटलं. इतक्या सगळ्या माणसांच्यात त्या वावरल्या, पण तरीही कुठेतरी एक एकटेपणा राहिला तो तसाच. आपल्याला बाहेरून असं नक्कीच वाटू शकेल की पु. लं. यांची बायको म्हणून, त्यांच्या सतत बरोबर राहिल्यामुळे किती भाग्यवान होत्या त्या... काय खास आयुष्य! पण प्रत्येकालाच असं दुसऱ्याबद्दल वाटत असणारच.

असो ... आता झोपायला गेलं पाहिजे. पण थोडसं अस्वस्थ वाटतंय रे ... की इतक्या खंबीर असलेल्या स्त्रीला सुद्धा कुठेतरी इतका एकटेपणा टोचतो, तर साधारण मुलींचं काय? आणि राहून राहून एक खंत तर आहेच की त्यांची क्षमता काही कमी नव्हती पण त्यांनी स्वेच्छेने म्हणा किंवा परिस्थितीमुळे, स्वतःचं आयुष्य थोडं बाजूलाच ठेवलं. आपल्या इतक्या थोर नवऱ्याच्या क्षमतेला आणि कारकिर्दीला ठेच पोहोचू नये म्हणून ही असेल कदाचित. त्यात त्यांचा मोठेपणा होता असं नाही म्हणत मी. बराचसा आनंदच असेल. आपल्याच कुणाचे चांगले गूण, भाग्य, यश याबद्दल स्वतःला होणाऱ्या आनंदाला एक किंचीतशी स्वार्थाची झलार ही असतेच. ते कदाचित ओघानेच आलं ही असेल. पण त्यांच्याकडून जगाला अजून काही मिळायचं राहून गेलं की काय असा एक आपला प्रश्न मनात येऊन गेला ...

मी हे प्रश्न विचारून काहीही फरक पडणार नाहीये तरीही पडलेले प्रश्न ते आहेतच ... सध्या इथेच थांबते ...

--- मुक्ता

2009-10-28T21:35:00.009+05:30

To just stop and see...

Ditch the fuel-guzzling bike. Riding the cycle (my very own, pink, dust coated and with brakes that fail just when i am speeding around the corner!) makes everything around me move just that lil bit slower and leaves me enough time to notice...

the intoxicating smell of freshly cut grass.
huge butterflies chasing smaller ones, just like that.
untidy flower borders, bursting with flowers that have flourished simply coz they have not been pampered.
fireflies playing hide and seek with you.
horrendous bumps in the road.
school kids dancing along after school hours.
girls with well-oiled hair and gajras.
the old wrinkled men who cut the grass and smile at me as i cycle past staring at em.
the entire gang of ladies who clean the campus and hostels and everything else in between.
guys chatting up girls and vice versa.
others pretending to ignore a significant someone.
lost souls, young souls, old ones too.
crowded crow hot-spots (rather white-spots).
delicious sambar smells, whiffs of the tandoor and the aroma of coffee at the eateries.

Bless this campus for its green cover, huge roads and cycle-only paths :)

2009-10-28T17:47:00.005+05:30

This is what happens when i have not read a harry potter or enid blyton or any magical tale for some time. i go bonkers and then stuff like this comes along :D

Tell me a lil story

of faeries and their glory,

of wizards and witches

their brooms and their swishes.

Of wands and cauldrons

spells, bubbling brews,

runes and tails of dragons

Of times to come

and of times gone by

tell me just one tale

before you say goodbye.

2009-10-20T23:28:00.000+05:30

There's a sad sort of clanging from the clock in the hall...

Inspite of the fact that I am actually at a particularly happy time in my life, I cannot help but have these moments of intense loneliness. They land upon me without warning and nothing I do seems to shake them off. I cannot figure them out. Maybe it is just moodiness, a passing phase, a cloud hovering for the tiniest moment and then moving along ahead. It does not help that in this particular down mood I have the urge to read the darkest stories, sit through the most depressing movies and yet again cut myself away from the warmth and laughter that a friend's company can offer me.

Having always been an independent soul, it cannot be that it is the 'being far away from home and hearth' feeling that brings on these low spirits. Work wise too, I am sure I am not at one of the worse phases and there is so much to look forward to in life that I ought to be sparkling with joy all the time. These moods cannot be banished like magic, you have to literally wallow in them, savour them almost and then let them pass of their own accord. Once they do, then you can be sure that they shall not come visiting for a long time ahead. Yet this mood has been intensifying all day and tonight it is such that I can only write it away. And so I have done... hopefully!

Do you guys also have these unexplained ups and downs? How do you tackle it? I am hoping you will write in with all your creative solutions... mebbe i can try some of em next time :)

2009-10-06T14:00:00.001+05:30

Some rhymes...

and someone kind enough to let me post em here :) thank you!

I feel happy, yet I feel sad,

I feel good, yet I feel bad.

Oh! forget the rhymes! Life's so wonderful,

I think I am going mad!

--- Aditya

The cool wind in my face,

blue skies with clouds scarce,

Ah what a lovely sight! Please protect this planet,

for our children's sake!

--- Aditya

I hope to keep adding more and more of em here!

2009-10-06T01:38:00.001+05:30

Another of those nameless posts...

There is so much I want to write about. So much waiting to be said, to be heard. Yet I hold back. Why? I want to shout from the rooftops and tell every single person in the world. But some things are just not easy to get out. At times I feel like I shall burst from the self-imposed silence.

Some days, everything moves so quickly that it all seems a blur. I almost want to ask everyone to freeze so that I can get my bearings. Other times, singular moments seem to last forever... or is it wishful thinking? Like a rich warm dark chocolate that melts oh-so-gently making you wish it would constantly leave its lingering intoxicating taste on your tongue.

Life has a funny way of letting you know that you are never really a hundred percent in control. Sometimes the unexpected seems the most magical. Like traveling along a barren landscape and suddenly chancing upon a clear gurgling brook that is dancing merrily along its way. Like a moment out of time where you meet people of whose existence you had not the slightest inkling. Serendipity seems like such a beautiful concept all of a sudden. :)

Once upon a time I proclaimed that random conversations were my passion. Today I know that just conversation is enough. Even if it revolves around the same subjects, it seems new every time. Smiles are aplenty and all of life calls out to you with the promise of the best of things to come! Lead on oh Life... I am eager for everything!

2009-09-21T12:03:00.000+05:30

'Ek Gypsy ahe majhya khol manaat dadoon'

It has been an interesting few days now. First, it was lovely to be with family after a long, long time! Lucky me :) The only one missing was R but guess no matter the time between our meetings, we shall never have problems of communication and shall never lose that special something we have between us. What say, little miss?

In some ways, going back home makes it easier to let your hair down. You realize that you do not have to always be all grown up and proper. You can be silly and childish, and even terribly temperamental and lazy for a lil while. Laughing over silly old jokes, remembered embarrassing moments, even teasing aai and ganging up on her is fun. Unexpected, but even being scolded by the parents is something I have missed. Just knowing that these are people who are not going to bother whether I get mad or not, but are still going to scold me and put me to rights coz they care for me is enough to make me fall in love with them all over again! It is nice to know I can always go back, that no matter what happens in my life, there shall always be a place to go back and rest and recharge.

Another reason why the last few days have been so different for me is the incredibly unexpected experiences I have had. Discovering so many little things about myself, getting to know new people, interesting ones, even hoping for the beginnings of new friendships... Its been a time for jumbled thoughts jostling for space, tons of self-doubts, indecisiveness (more because the enormity of the decisions frightens me even though my instinct tells me that my decisions shall be right), and yet a time for beautiful moments. A time that I know I shall never regret, perhaps even shall cherish :) And another good thing is that I started reading poetry again. For a while in between I had forgotten about that. Read Mangesh Padgaonkar's "Gypsy" all over again and realized that some things never change, I still love that particular poem. Hence the title for this post.

2009-08-26T05:00:00.000+05:30

I cannot think of a title

Today has been a totally different day from my daily routine. First and most important, it’s the day I finally go home, to Pune! I have been looking forward to this time with tons of excitement, and my heart would skip a beat every single time. But surprisingly, today morning I woke up and there seemed to be an air of melancholy on campus. I am still as excited, but somehow, this campus has also become a home of sorts and leaving, even for a short while and even while knowing that I shall be back, gives a slight sorrowful tinge to everything. So much so, that I actually wait eagerly for lunch at the mess, I look at my tiny old room with a smile and I even find myself saying goodbye to the buckets and the staircases at the hostel. As if parting company with old friends...

And so I set forth on the journey back home, to good old Pune, the only place I had ever called “home”, before Bangalore happened to me. Should I feel guilty because I have allowed a different city, a different place to grow on me? And you see it’s not really just the city, but the campus, the atmosphere here, the lush greenery and the warmth of all my friends that makes it so much more special than just a new city.

Anyway, am digressing, as I am wont to do... So back on track… the reason why today was different. I was trying to figure out my exact feelings. The joy, the sorrow and the excitement all mingled together. (Too much emotion actually can make you feel ill and I wanted to just drop everything, sit down, bawl my heart out and then go on once the tears had dried). Having packed my bag (imagine, just one bag... even I manage to surprise myself at times!!!), I bid adieu to the institute for the next few days, called up friends I had not said goodbye to in person and boarded the bus to the airport. Just before I got into the bus was my nice experience number one for the day... The rickshaw-wallah who dropped me from institute to the Mekhri circle bus pick-up point was simply awesome. He had no change for hundred and I had only 16 measly rupees in loose change. His meter showed the fare as 22 Rupees and he could very well have demanded that I wait till he got change from somewhere; but the good samaritan he was, he did not do so. He, in fact, smiled and took the 16 Rupees and helped me load my bag onto the bus. Suddenly my spirits were lifted a lil bit. A smile can work wonders that way. Another smile I met along the way was from a lady-cleaner at the airport. For no apparent reason she gave me a radiant smile and suddenly even the delayed flight seemed like no big deal. All I wish is that there was some way I could let these people, who made me happier today, know how grateful I am. Hopefully, in some way, I too shall be able to make a tiny little part of somebody’s day a little brighter today. Perhaps that way we can pass on the twinkling smiles and make even ourselves a little happier.

2009-08-17T14:19:00.001+05:30

Saying it Silently...

I was in the car, next to my sister, on the way to the airport and both of us were sitting quietly, each deep in her own thoughts. The minutes were ticking along, yet neither uttered a word. And then it struck me that between us was a special type of silence... not uncomfortable... perfectly companionable and funnily enough so much was being said, communicated without a word or a sound. Brain waves perhaps? Partings have always been difficult for us and knowing that we may not meet for more than six months was weighing heavy on our hearts. Yet some things should not be said aloud... they lose their significance and dignity then. In fact, some things are better said in silence.

Silence is a funny thing... how does one perfectly describe it? As absence of sound? Or does it have a positive definition of its own? Sometimes silence is warm and light-filled. Between lovers when nothing need be said, between friends when everything has been said umpteen times... those silences are beautiful and vibrant. They donot leave you wracking your brain for something to say. They are complete.

Then there are those silences where strangers meet and are ill at ease, perhaps because they pick up the wrong vibes, perhaps because they have confidence issues... or because they discover that in reality they have nothing meaningful to say. Not that all conversations have to be or are meaningful, but at times even small talk is painful. And so the silence is like a gaping valley... deep and yet empty.

But the worst kind of silence is when people actually want to say something, they know exactly what they want to say yet are unable to get the words out. Fear, the risk that once the words are out there you cannot call them back, fear that everything will change forever... that is what keeps this silence unbroken. And this can be painful both for the person who wants to say stuff and the person who knows that something needs to be discussed out in the open, aired, gotten over with and yet the situation festers on till it becomes uncomfortable and drives people apart. These are the silences I hate, the ones that can destroy friendships, tear apart relationships and leave a mess behind.

Silence and speech are both double-edged swords... each can be used to hurt and each can in turn soothe and mend the hurt. Be careful!

My Secret in Silence

- Lorelei Pablo

You came into my life

Quietly, Simply, Placidly

And my words stood still...

I couldn't express in words

Or even simple gestures

The secret I kept in my heart.

So I loved in silence

Admired you from a distance

Dreamt of you afar.

I wanted to say I love you...

I wanted to say i care.

But cowardly, maybe, you'll laugh at me.

In silence then I will love you...

In silence then I will care...

2009-07-06T13:10:00.000+05:30

Auf Wiedersehen! Adieu! Goodbye! Wir fahren heute fort...

It is the season for partings. In a sense, every day is a day for endings and beginnings... but some days it seems like there are just too many endings and not enough new beginnings and so, many a loose end remains just that... a loose end. As if there was a lot more to be said, a lot more to be done together, a lot more to be lived and laughed and cried about in each other's company... and yet move on we must! Am I rambling? Perhaps. It is just that lately I have had to say too many goodbyes for me to look at everything objectively. It is not even like all the people I bid adieu to are going away forever. Some are just shifting base... but they shall cease to be part of my daily life... and to paraphrase Henry Higgins " ... I have grown accustomed to their faces ..." In life, one must learn to let go. Apparently that is a virtue. But I donot care. I want to be selfish and not let go ever. Just hold on tight and keep all those I love close to me. And then I wonder, is all this just one-way traffic? Coz the others seem to find it so much easier to go on ahead... meet new people, make new friends and yet I seem to be forever stuck in some time capsule... reliving all the old days and forgetting to step ahead into the present and live it to the fullest. Perhaps I am just wallowing in all the melodrama or perhaps, just perhaps, everybody else is actually pretending. Pretending to be strong, unemotional, grown up and stoic. Underneath all these masks are people who hurt at the partings, people who would like to stay forever, people who shall love each other, no matter what! I hope it is so. And so I shall believe it to be so!

2009-05-30T21:54:00.000+05:30

Untitled...

It has been a really long time since I last posted anything and this, I think, is a reflection of the fact that this has been a phase of a lot of confusion, debate and self-doubt. Sometimes I almost wish that my mind would go blank, even for the teeniest little while. That would perhaps be so much more peaceful than the multitude of ideas, doubts, questions and halfway-there answers. It is not as if I have stumbled across some great question. Just these small niggling doubts. They flit by, stay awhile and then fly away before I manage to personally rid myself of them. This has been happening for quite some time now, but never such that it made me stop so long and think seriously.

I think it all culminated when someone told me in a matter-of-fact manner that the only reason I write is apparently so that people may read and admire and talk about it. And that flummoxed me since I had always told myself that I write for my satisfaction, for the creative purpose, even as a personal need for expression... that it does not matter what others think about my writing and so on. The straightforward response from a friend whose opinion I value made me examine whether I had been entirely honest with myself. And when I realised that there is surely a part of me that flourishes on the admiration, the comments and the very idea that there are people out there that read my stuff... I decided that this cannot continue. You see, it has always been ingrained upon us that selfishness is bad. Self-love or an obvious and openly accepted desire to be liked is frowned upon. And so I decided that I shall not put my thoughts out there in the world, I shall keep them to myself, hoard them and not ask everybody out there for their opinions on the same. I stopped posting here. It was almost a case of self-imposed hibernation.

But you know what, the kind of behaviour where you put your thoughts out and eagerly look for responses (hopefully positive) may be classified as self-publicity and attention-seeking behaviour and hence bad in the world's eyes but the stifling of my expressive abilities is not good for me. It makes me cranky, it makes me difficult and makes me brood. I need to write and not just in private but such that people can read it and tell me what they think about it. This is not just a wish, it is a deep desire, almost a necessity for me if only so that, in my everyday life, I can be happier. It took me a while to accept that yes, I do crave the attention, the admiration. And to hell with all those who think it is bad, it is wrong. I donot think that it makes me any less of a person just because I choose to not be self-effacing. If I enjoy writing, then write I shall! And I shall also thrive on the readers' comments and their inputs. What is wrong with liking yourself and wanting to hear the world tell you that you are worth some little bit, atleast as much as a tiny little patch in the colourful fabric of the world?

I do not have to ever fit into the rules of behaviour that someone else sets for me unless I personally believe them and they come to me naturally. Coz what may be wrong according to someone else may be exactly what I need in my life, what I have been missing. I think I need to just come to terms with the person I am, good or bad, and then go on ahead from there. Why should I fit into a mould cast by someone else? Life on the fine thin line is just great for me. I donot have to lead my life as a model of propriety and I definitely do not wish to be remembered as a "good girl". I want to live a full life with all kinds of experiences (the wilder the better :D) and I want the freedom to make my own mistakes. I want to also be confident enough that an unknowingly passed derogatory comment about me does not bring my world crashing down. Only when I am absolutely sure of my self-worth will I be worthy enough to face up to the world. Ah! Clarity! And some peace of mind finally. See, there I go, I suddenly feel so much better having gotten all that stuff out of my system. It is a nice world out there :) :)

2009-03-22T09:00:00.000+05:30

Ruts' Poetry :) :) :)

My sister writes poems and has kindly (:D) allowed me to put them up on the blog here...so here goes...

FREE FALL

I’m standing on plain ground out here
I’m just an insignificant girl.
Yet every time I stand like this
I feel on top of the world.

It doesn’t look like I am moving
I seem rooted to the spot.
But I feel like I’m in free fall.
It’s an illusion, just a thought.

And when the wind blows through my hair
I feel free without a care
It’s like the world’s in sync with me
I’m free falling through the air.

Maybe coz I’m just one person
There’s no real difference I can make
But when I’m free falling, I’m flying
I leave a trail of happiness in my wake.

UNTITLED

The darkening clouds hang overhead,

All my prospects seem so bleak

Water pours incessantly

Heaven's pipes have begun to leak!

At times it seems, it's not a leak

It's like there ARE no pipes at all...

For there is no steady drip drip drip,

It's a downright waterfall!

I know they TRY to repair it

For it stops from time to time.

But their efforts are miserable; puny at best,

Their plumbers not worth a dime!

It's at times like these that I feel so sure

Heaven can't be all that great...

I mean no place with such horrible plumbing

Is going to find me knocking on its gate.

UNTITLED

When I lie on my bed each night
Sometimes I suddenly think of you
Then I smile to myself and wonder
If you're thinking of me too.

I sit up and hug my knees
And think of how very nice it would be
If precisely at that moment
Your thoughts would drift to me.

I walk over to the window
And drink in the beauty of the night
I feel certain that I'm in your mind
Because everything seems so right.

There's something precious in that instant,
Something bewitching about the stars
It's a special magical moment
Because it's a moment that's just ours.

Rhuta Deobagkar

2009-03-16T09:20:00.000+05:30

A rambling post...

Being at this particularly weird age, young yet not completely carefree...independent yet held by many invisible strings, is confusing indeed. I am to be responsible and grown up yet not a stuffy individual. How do I balance all this out? I live on my own, yet I donot have the freedom (or perhaps the desire) to be an isolated island. But I shall never ever be the bubbling life and soul of a group. It requires just too much effort and my inherent laziness revolts at the idea of such hardship. Does it always have to be extremes...this or that...always a matter of choices? Also I have been wondering whether I have really changed over a period of time, over a series of experiences or do I just like to pretend so?

Living on a campus as beautiful as this is an experience that I shall cherish forever, with the many blossoming friendships and the chance for personal growth. It is entirely up to me how closely inter-twined I wish to let these bonds become...keep everyone at arm's length or let them into my heart. Perhaps it is the many hours spent in company and the unending conversations that build up this impression of closeness...it is perhaps all a mirage. Everybody is finally looking out for themselves...no one cares when it comes to the crunch. Each person is trying to reach for their best under the given circumstances. That is not to say that anybody is out to hurt you specifically but someone else's best may be the worst for you.

Is that too pessimistic...cynical? I would like to think it is a journey towards realism. Perhaps that's all growing up means...that you dream but know that dreams hardly ever come true and that magic shall only be for yourself...for your imagination...it does not exist in the real world. Out here all anybody cares for is the end result...have you succeeded or failed? The journey never matters.

I have been told over and over again for quite some time now that I am too trusting, too impressionable, too optimistic and lost in my own world, my dreams, my beliefs and I would just laugh it off and think that people were not ready to look at all the beautiful things out there. But do any of these apparently magical, beautiful things matter? Are they even worth noticing? All these years I have been a naive young fool to believe that it is the process, the people you meet along the way, the million different hues you chance upon, the actual journey that matters the most. But then there are times when you wholeheartedly doubt all that you have trusted your entire life. Disillusionment is good, because it lets you pause and think. Take a break, learn many things all over again just with a different perspective.

I guess all these thoughts, doubts, beliefs, questions and answers are always there fluttering within me. Sometimes a few rush to the fore, sometimes others do but do I ever get anything new from the world or am I constantly regurgitating the same old questions and just trying to come up with different combinations of answers? What is one supposed to do when melancholy strikes with such vengeance for no apparent reason? Even the crashing rains and the thunder and lightening outside cannot wash this mood out. It has become a constant companion lately, sucking the joy out of the little everyday happenings that I used to go ga-ga over. Do I even want to let go? It is a different experience...to not be constantly happy...how boring that seems now. May the questioning continue...mayhaps this then is to be the new phase.

2009-03-04T20:35:00.000+05:30

Bits and Pieces...

I'd call a place pure paradise

where families are loyal and strangers are nice,

where the music is jazz and the season is fall.

Promise me that or nothing at all.

--- Maya Angelou

You came into my life
Quietly, Simply, Placidly
And my words stood still...

---Lorelei Pablo

Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high
There's a land that I heard of, once in a lullaby
Somewhere over the rainbow, skies are blue
And the dreams that you dare to dream
Really do come true

2009-02-26T20:30:00.000+05:30

25 bits of Random stuff...

1. I have a huge writer's block currently and am unable to think of stuff about me that I might wish to tell the world. Yet I plod along...for lack of anything else even mildly interesting enough to do...So here goes...a heroic effort :)

2. I love to read...everything from science fiction to adventure stories to biographies to romance and classics. At times it seems like if only I have a book I shall never need to meet another real live person. I meet many within those pages and also visit so many places and situations that it seems to me like a parallel universe it is that I inhabit!

3. Ah! But I do wish to travel in real life too! Go see Europe and visit tiny little villages and look at old mysterious places, each with a quaint little story of its own. I wish to meet people from all those far off places and find out what I have in common with them and yet what makes us distinctive, different.

4. Someday I hope to teach small children. Not just as a "social responsibility" but because I love small kids and their inquisitive minds and their unbridled enthusiasm.

5. I love words.

6. I adore chocolates...the darker the better. I love the bewitching smell, the smooth texture, the intoxicating flavour and the amazing feeling you get when a piece of chocolate starts to just melt on your tongue!

7. I hope to see a live wild tiger face to face. But perhaps shall do that as the last thing in my life :D

8. I like to just go on unplanned trips...wander through small shops, tiny little second-hand stores and through back-alleys and open markets.

9. I can be very stand-offish and silent when I meet you the first time. Take ages to get talking. But then there is always the chance that once I get started, I may never stop.

10. I love playing cards and am pretty fiercely competitive about that.

11. I love the moon and rain and the seashore and the sound of running water.

12. I have always been and remain a rather adamant person and nothing you say shall make me budge if I am not convinced.

13. The person I love best in the world is my little sister.

14. Endless, madcap conversations and huge steaming cups of coffee are my definition of an almost perfect weekend. Throw in all my dearest friends...and that is heaven indeed. Arguments, gossip, mindless chatter...hardly matters what!

15. Ok. This is getting more and more difficult. Random suddenly seems like a word with a very narrow scope!

16. I was always a plump kid. And I remain so. Not a kid but the other part applies.

17. As a child I hated learning the multiplication tables and till today have never been able to "know them all by heart". I always need to stop, think and calculate!

18. I have trouble accepting anything on blind faith. I envy people who have that kind of faith. It perhaps makes life much easier.

19. My mom had told me a story about a guy who built a house right over a stream. I would like to build one like that too...right on the slopes of a gentle hill along a path that leads down to a river.

20. My sister once said that our dad is the world's best sandwich maker. I second that. And he makes the best scrambled eggs and tells the most hilarious stories too!

21. Once upon a time I loved to paint. Lately I seem to have forgotten that.

22. People and places, especially from bygone eras, fascinate me...discovering their stories is almost a passion.

23. Am glad that I am nearing the end of the tag. I find it very difficult to write to order. But am an avid letter writer. I love to receive letters too. There is incredible joy in seeing your name on an envelope :)

24. Am a rather lazy person and am amazed that I have managed to stick to this tag-writing/completing whatever process. It is a rare event indeed!

25. I love surprises and puppies and fluffy clouds and my dearest friends and jungle sounds and the smell of freshly baked bread and old movies and new ones. Hopefully #25 was atleast a little random!

2009-02-07T20:10:00.000+05:30

48 hours and still counting...

There is something incredibly exhilarating about being so completely exhausted and tired that my brain is kind of disconnected with the rest of me! At times I can go on for a couple of days without sleep, but there definitely has to be strong enough motivation for me to miss out on sleep. It can be an extracurricular activity that I am doing for myself or the short but sweet time spent with friends doing crazy things like playing cards late into the night and then going to bed only after having seen the moon set, the sun rise and with a hot cup of coffee warming me or gazing at the stars as they seem to move across the dark night sky and even at times an experiment which just cannot be planned in a more sane manner. So such late nights or rather early mornings and unending sagas of sleep deprivation would normally be expected to make a person cranky, prone to mood swings and basically depressed. In my case I seem to notice that I do pass through the above-mentioned phases but then I reach that point beyond which nothing seems to impinge; its like all my inhibitions are lowered, I say stuff and am a lot more outspoken than normal. And the best part is I am aware that I am behaving differently but well, I couldn't care less! It makes me wonder if perhaps this is what happens when one is just slightly, pleasantly drunk. Someday, I intend to find out :D !!!

Anyway, as I was saying, it is a great feeling to test my limits and to see how long and how far I can stretch myself before collapsing entirely. Most call me mad, think I am not careful enough. But the fact of the matter is, at times it is the best choice I can make. While I am still young enough to be able to handle this, while I am still resilient enough is the very time to try out all this madness. Later I might be too old, too prim and proper, too 'grown-up' to even consider going days without sleep or getting so tired that if I just stop in the middle of a sentence, I could fall asleep!

So I say, live exactly the way you wish to while you still have the freedom to do so. Do all the crazy wild stuff you might have dreamed about, all the supposedly irresponsible things you have always wanted to do and all the "living it king-size", while you are still young and able enough. You never know what tomorrow holds...so live entirely for today...and enjoy it to the fullest...and never regret it as long as each one of your decisions are wholeheartedly yours!

2009-01-27T16:45:00.000+05:30

Blind Belief...

Has it ever struck you that it is almost as if, if you believe something good, something right is going to happen, then it just shall? It is as if the thoughts, the slight smile and the burst or spark of joy within you can alter your fate, your destiny. That one moment of intense belief and hope can make things go the right way! Just hold onto this thought and let us see where it takes us...

It is this thought that comes across overwhelmingly from the Alchemist and from Jonathan Livingston Seagull and a host of other books from different genres. A lot has been written and said and all of it sounds interesting and inspiring. But it is hard to believe something like this truly till you have an experience that makes you discover it for yourself. As has been for me all my life, discovering things for myself, as if I were the first person to find them, makes it far easier for me to accept and believe. So the parents and other elders may have been trying to get me to accept a fact but I never can till I firmly believe it from the depths of my being.

Perhaps all this is part of being a human being...the fact that we need to experience, live through an event in order to believe...blind faith can be such a bore! Many might say that it is important to believe in the wisdom of elders and to learn so as to never make the same mistakes...otherwise mankind shall never progress. But what is the point of such faith if it means never really believing but taking things on trust...just because “someone wiser says so”!

2009-01-17T06:07:00.000+05:30

Moon Tales...

I have been going mad about the moon lately...every single night the moon looks down upon me in all its glowing luminous glory and I go slightly mad...in a delicious sense! It feels like there is some magic in the night...in the cold night air, in the twinkling stars and the call of “something wild”! I wonder if this happens to everybody...this deep wish to share the magic of the moon in all its moods...the waxing and the waning phases. And the sad part is, even though I can feel the perfectness of the moment, it is near impossible to share. Few people understand the sheer poetry of that exact moment when you first notice the moon and are awed by it; most just think you have an ‘over the top’ reaction, others glance at it and think “What’s the big deal? The moon has been up there in the skies for eons!” and you have to be really lucky to find people who can share and appreciate that beauty. I count myself lucky that I can just call up my sister and wax poetic about something as supposedly everyday as the moon and yet she shall listen to me and let me pour out all my feelings and not laugh at them! And I am also lucky that I have friends who, though perhaps not moon-mad themselves, do notice my madness and yet do not judge me; instead they accept these idiosyncrasies and let me just be!

Perhaps the ‘Call of the Wild’ should be amended to ‘Call of the Moon’ for me! Ah! A moonlit night at the seashore, with the gentle sound of waves, shared with the people you love best in the world is a perfect night!

2008-12-24T00:30:00.000+05:30

Coming home...

Staying away from family is a good experience; if only because those moments that you have to steal and hoard to be with them become so much more precious.

I had lived with my family for almost my entire life till the time I left home to get some more education. And looking back, it was a very protected existence all along! Life is a lot simpler when you know you are going home every single day to people who love you, no matter what. You can have a crabby day and throw tantrums or have your sweetest day but at the end of it someone is waiting at home for you. In hindsight, it is a safe world and you are never on your own. Funnily enough, while I lived at home, I chafed against all the rules and regulations...no terribly late nights, the parents doling out advice: "Do make an effort to be a little tidier. Your room might be pleasantly surprised to look a little better than as if it has just been through a mini-tornado" or the eternal "Hey you know what...the sun does rise in the East...just telling you coz you have probably never seen it any earlier than when it is plonk in the middle of the afternoon sky!!!" So I constantly cribbed and dreamed about "The day I shall be independent...staying on my own...a free bird..."

So when I finally did move into a hostel...the first few days were bliss. While other people pined for home and actually had bouts of home-sickness, to me it seemed all like an adventure. Hanging out with friends and chatting away to glory into the wee hours, getting up as and when I desired (though classes in the morning kinda put an abrupt end to that dream), drinking umpteen cups of coffee, thriving in the piles and piles of mess in my room...in short doing all that I always thought I wanted to! This was fun till the time I realised that there is only so much "freaking out" that I can get up to...beyond that life has to have atleast the slightest hint of a pattern. Home was never really a place with restrictions, but a place where my bid for freedom did not venture into the wild zone. Family has this unique ability to let you be just as you wish to...no pretence, no masks...nobody cares if you have a rude day or a fat day (hahaha...those who know me shall definitely get this! :D :D) There is something so comforting about coming home again...being able to let your hair down and dropping all your "acts". It is weird but today it seems to me as if I have the most freedom when I am home.

And home is not just the place I go back to but the people I love most in the world...people who complete me. I am truly blessed!

2008-12-02T18:36:00.000+05:30

Shades of Grey...

Its weird, but growing up is not easy at all. Everything just gets more and more complicated as you grow up. And I don't say this because I meet so many more people as the years pass by, but because when I was young everything was just either black or white, good or bad...there were no in-betweens. And then suddenly one day, I encountered all these greys in between...and not of a single tone but of various hues...dark, light, lighter and so on.

I remember, when I was younger I either liked a person or not; I was never confused over the issue. Now it is not so often that I meet a person I like completely. There is always something that I wish could be changed. I know...one is supposed to be all mature and kind and be able to accept the faults and the charms...but it is difficult at times.

At times, you talk to and are friends with people that you are not a hundred percent sure you like. More often than not, this is because you are part of a larger circle of friends and it may lead to too many problems if individuals decided to be unfriendly within the group. So you adjust and pretend but all along you know you are not being true. Now the question is, is it better to go along with this pretence since it is not outright hurting anyone else or is it better to be honest and upfront about your attitude? Anyway, even if you are a fine actor and have managed to hide your semi-dislike (or the feeling of being uncomfortable), your actions or words may unknowingly give away your real feelings! And that is even worse, because the other person may be more hurt that way. It might be better to be straightforward and agree to be cordial but without the entire show about being "all good friends in the group"!!!

This brings me to another point...the grey shades in everyday life. As a child I was always told that the truth is the ultimate and that lies were a big "no-no". And for a long time, all around me in my small world were truthful so there were no conflicts...but out here in the real world absolute truth is uncommon. Things are true from different perspectives...and all these perspectives hardly ever match up. So telling small little lies and "slightly" bending the truth are all accepted as part of an honest person's makeup. When do you make this distinction between being honest and being a cheat? I agree that living in an idealistic world will never take us anywhere in the realistic world's point of view...but surely we must be able to define a boundary between the truth and a lie. Or is this forever to be a dependent upon the people involved, the circumstances and the consequences? Can there ever be an absolute definition?

2008-10-29T18:52:00.000+05:30

Paper Blues...

I had to present a paper at the department today and I ended up giving such a dismal performance that I am almost glad...atleast I know that I shall never ever be any worse than this! It is not as if I had not understood the paper at all; the problem was communicating a new and complicated piece of data provided by someone else to an audience that had almost no related background. And to top this I was so nervous that my hands shook, my voice quivered and I was bumbling up the words as if I were a complete novice as regards the English language...I could not remember the right words and was berating myself for the same even while a part of my brain was trying to talk to the audience!

All in all, a bad way to give your first department presentation! Makes me feel like a mix of all kinds of fools!

Ah well, this is turning into one of those "me and my diary" sessions! That's it, I make a resolution that this is the last time I put up a crib as a post. Just that having gotten this out of my head I suddenly feel so much lighter! Though, am sure it is utterly boring to read about people's lives and especially the low points in it...reading about someone's opinions is an altogether different matter :)

2008-10-25T21:34:00.000+05:30

Memories...

Memories are such funny things...the most unexpected ones suddenly pop up out of nowhere. You have completely forgotten some experience or a person and then for no apparent reason you recall everything and the memory is not even blurred...its crystal clear and if only you close your eyes you can see everything that happened in full technicolour. So how and where is memory stored and what makes some memories lie deeply buried? Its awesome, the kind of multi-channel and whacky storage system our brain uses!

I read in the news the other day that people have found some way by which memories can be erased and this apparently will prove a boon for people who are haunted by bad memories and perennially depressed but would I ever be ready to give up even one of my memories? The grossest, most painful memory still holds a part of a past me and I don't think I would ever want to lose that part...would that not make me incomplete? Perhaps I find it easier to say this since I have not had any really terrifying memory...and most events when looked at as memories appear not as bad as they seemed when I was truly living through those moments. This has been an area that has fascinated story tellers and filmmakers. Two movies I have seen recently that deal with the loss of memory (willingly or by accident) are "Memento" and "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind". I would not say that they have brilliant actors or directors but the stories are so off-beat and crazy that I just kept watching till the end.

Some memories are beautiful and warm and comfortable and filled with the brightest light and sparkling laughter and a pure happiness while others are tinged with a little sorrow while others still are dark and dangerous and brimming with hatred, yet they are all so "individual" in nature since, what I remember of an experience that I shared with you shall forever be different from your remembrance of it. Its almost as if my memories too make me special.

2008-10-25T20:46:00.000+05:30

Of Marriageable Age...

Out of the blue I suddenly discovered that I am supposedly at this "eminently marriageable" age!!! And if you wonder how I was so enlightened, it was because people (read relatives, neighbours, mere acquaintances) have now taken to walking up to my parents and wondering why they are not obsessed with marrying off their daughter and then suggesting so and so as being a suitable match! And I am almost offended by the very suggestion...as if I were some kind of baggage that needed to be packed off!

It is generally assumed (especially in India) that any girl beyond the age of 21 must be married off as soon as is possible or for the more "modern" families, the girl may even be allowed to spare her parents the trouble and find them a son-in-law on her own. I always thought that my generation would be ready to live a little before "settling down" (sounds awfully like the kind of thing you do in the lab...let the sediments settle or precipitate stuff!!!)...get out of the narrow societal constraints that most people live within and explore the world a little...but at the rate my closest friends are getting hitched or "committed" as it is fashionably referred to, it looks like I am soon to be left as the lone crusader for the "i am independent and single and loving it" brigade!!!

And to top all that, their accounts of experiences in the typical arranged marriage scenario have been more crazy than I could believe possible. Most guys have all kinds of (weird) criteria when looking for a bride and that too in today's so-called progressive times!!! A typical guy wants a qualified, educated girl for his wife but still expects her to give up all hopes of an independent career and life if the family and the husband so wish. It is still expected that it is the girl who will, but obviously, stay at home and look after the children and she should be a good cook and a dedicated homemaker. And as if all this is not enough, the girl just has to be gorgeous too. Get real people, why cannot these be shared responsibilities and what is so demeaning for a guy to come forward and be ready to say upfront that he shall be equally responsible. And what really shocks me is that even the supposedly educated people who truly believe they are "learned" and unorthodox will insist on matching horoscopes since they apparently believe that the lovely twinkling stars in the sky can in some way decide whether two people are compatible or not! And astonishingly enough, in the impossibly long list of "requirements" (believe me an over crowded shopping market with a miles-long shopping list might perhaps seem a better place eventually), there is often no references as to whether the principles and ideals by which two people live match at all. I think its more important whether your choices in life shall ever be similar than whether your horoscopes match!!!

I have been a little sarcastic yes, but that's only because I have heard umpteen stories about arranged marriage fiascos over the last few days and it has definitely decided for me that I shall think twice and then some more before I even venture down that path...So basically, this is an outburst on my part with the hope that single souls out there will think a little and attempt to be rational while choosing another person to share an entire lifetime with, especially in an arranged marriage scenario.

2008-10-14T00:16:00.000+05:30

Just a Smile :)

Today morning I woke up with the widest ever grin on my face. I don't remember what I was so happy about, perhaps a really beautiful dream, or perhaps I had been let in on the ultimate joke in life and I don't even know what it was now...but that hardly matters. What I remember overwhelmingly is the fact that I was so surprised by my own smile!!! As if a smile is really out of place...and now that I think back, I have never ever woken up in the morning feeling incredibly happy about just any and everything..no cribs, no whines. This is something that you supposedly get to do only when you are a child. I have almost forgotten this crazy happiness, just this joy at being alive; not the happiness for having gotten something or done something well. That you learn to appreciate as you grow up. But children have the ability to tap into some secret source of unending delight and they see no reason why you should not smile. Perhaps there is a lot to treasure in that innocence and untarnished view of the world...and one must cherish it if not try and emulate it.

2008-10-10T20:10:00.000+05:30

I wonder if you have ever felt this way, like you don't really know where life is taking you. I wish at times that there would be some guarantees...about work, family, future, present...whatever!!! There is so much uncertainty in everyday life...the unpredictable is fun, yes, but at times I wish I knew exactly what was to happen and when..the not knowing is bad. If the situation calls for action on my part, then its a different matter but when the matter is absolutely not influenced by anything I may wish, want or do...that's when it hurts the most.

I absolutely hate not being a hundred percent in control of my life!!!

2008-10-09T21:36:00.000+05:30

The Guitar Guy

I never thought I would be thankful for this..but the mess being closed for dinner today was indeed a blessing. I did not go out for dinner at a restaurant with an entire gang of friends as is the custom normally. Instead a friend and I went to this small canteen on campus where you get sandwiches and the most awesome coffee (by current campus standards!!!) and then another person turned up and we chatted about all kinds of things...from courses and classes, bosses and their tantrums, to movies, guys, music, books and so on.
So what's the big deal in all this huh? Well, the real point is that we heard this guy playing away on his guitar all by himself. He was perhaps rehearsing or just strumming melodies for himself. All I can say is it was a wonderful way to spend the evening...simply sitting there lost in the music created by a stranger all for himself...
Whoever he was, I hope he plays there often. I sure am going to drink a lot of coffee there in the next few days, hoping to hear him some more. Where else will I get to hear live guitar to my heart's content?? Especially when someone is not putting up a deliberate performance but is just making music!!! Ah! this is one of those unexplainable reasons why I love campus :)

2008-08-24T18:21:00.000+05:30

Friends and so on...

Have been interacting with so many old and new friends over the last year. One thing that has established itself as a glaring fact is that whatever our preconceived ideas about who or what our friends ought to be like, it never really matters...you never really choose your friends. All you do is learn to love them all...for their idiosyncrasies, pet peeves, special characteristics, gentleness, brashness, wit and humour and this list is endless. Its as if my universe exploded and an entirely different perspective was thrust upon me. So many different kinds of people, numerous backgrounds, unique quirks in each individual personality and yet all these fit together and become a special group of people with similar outlooks towards life , basically brought together with this amazing bond of friendship.
While on the topic of experiences new and old, another point just stands out. It is the "something" different that makes itself obvious when a person knows his or her own worth. Call it the arrogance of youth or maybe confidence in oneself. But it is marvelous when you see someone who refuses to believe in the possibility of failure. Perhaps it has something to do with utter disregard for authority. Why allow someone else to make rules for you? Why bear false modesty and make excuses for your talent? There is indeed something very attractive about a person who refuses to bow down or who has utmost confidence (mind you, not over-confidence) in his or her abilities. These people stand out in any gathering whether they plan to or not. Perhaps this is exactly what "personality" is all about...
All the people that I have met in my life seem to have atleast some effect on the decisions I take thereafter. It is as if your life is a constantly evolving sum of your experiences, your decisions and your ability to face the consequences of the same.

2008-05-04T14:48:00.000+05:30

Life as I see it...

Shouldn’t life be a celebration of all the good stuff that happens around a person? We spend so much of our lives whining about small stuff, fretting about traffic jams, a program missed, a negative comment from an acquaintance and so on and so forth. It is amazing that every single day beautiful things happen and I don’t have the presence of mind to note them, cherish them and remember the joy. But if ever I do take the time to stop and look around, there is so much to see; nothing phenomenal or huge, just small details that I tend to miss normally. It might be a small, colourful, happy butterfly. It might be a beautifully shaped, fluffy, white cloud. Then again it might be the deep, unending blue of the afternoon sky, the fresh green of leaves, the glowing sky at sunset, the velvety sky at moon rise, the thousands of twinkling stars! And as if the beauty of nature is not enough, I encounter so much beauty in the people in my life. The unconditional acceptance from friends, the friendly gesture of an acquaintance, the pleasure of someone respecting my opinion, the unexpected smile from a complete stranger or the naughty grin on a child’s face! More often than not, these are perfectly uncontrollable expressions of the other person’s own sense of joy…perhaps that is what makes it even better…the fact that nothing is really expected in return, it is completely unconditional…leaving you free to respond in whatever way you desire.

2008-05-04T14:39:00.000+05:30

A Few Moments from the Life of a “Would-be” Graduate Student

The incessant worrying about getting an admission into a graduate program somewhere…please! The actual applications and then the unending series of written entrance exams (does anybody ever prepare…ha! If only!). Horrible thoughts about the questions you attempted to solve and all the rest that you did not even bother to read. Waiting (the nail-biting phenomenon begins) for an interview call. Finally a letter does arrive...what does it say??? Most are rejections cloaked in words meant to imply the schools deepest sorrow at being unable to find a place for you…come on guys, get real…why can you not just state the plain truth??!!! A few schools do deign to let you know that they might like to consider you for an interview (blessed wonders), asking you to present yourself at the interview venue on so and so a date. So you leave for the interview all geared up and bottling in your tensions, fears and stress. The D-day dawns (Ah! An alliteration). You get all dressed up, neat and tidy but the stress still makes you look like you are over 40 and have been deprived of sleep for your entire life. The wait for your name to be called begins; you wonder why you were ever eager to face the (execution!) panel. The nail-biting continues. People go in and come out of the interview room at an alarming rate. Some lucky souls still have the remains of a smile on their faces even after the ordeal. You wait…knowing your turn will come, it is inevitable. In you go, smile at the panelists, and hope they ask you the simplest question, one that you can answer real quick; but no such luck! You get lost (in the question itself, so why bother to hang around?) and confused and plain fluttered, stammering, making the silliest of mistakes and generally goofing up. Your opinion about yourself sinks to the deepest abyss ever. And then you discover that wonders never cease, they have actually selected you. There still is hope for life!

2008-04-27T18:49:00.000+05:30

At times you need to ignore what the world tells you, and what you have grown up believing as right. You need to just go out and do exactly what your heart desires. There is pleasure indeed in the madness, the freedom and in the impulse of the moment. You are just restricting yourself because your beliefs have stopped being your own and are now simply the conditioned responses that are expected of you. That precise mad moment might just bring you the very freedom you were longing for. The fact that you can shock someone with one tiny unexpected action brings such joy that you may very well give up living up to other people's expectations and start doing every single thing that you ever wished to do. A little selfishness is not such a bad thing if it makes you a happier person, capable of a lot more creativity and if it imbues you with the confidence that nothing is ever really impossible, it is simply a matter of believing enough and not being bogged down by other people’s doubts.

2008-04-27T18:44:00.000+05:30

Meanderings…

She was lonely. It was a strange feeling, considering the fact that she had just returned from a marvellous evening spent with her closest friends. Perhaps it was simply the blackness of the night, the gentle breeze or the silvery silhouettes of the trees shimmering in the moonlight. Perhaps something in the cool night breeze brought along this tremendous loneliness and incompleteness, a feeling that there must be much more to life than the mundane business of just living each day as it comes along. Life perhaps deserved a little madness, some wildness and definitely a lot more passion.
For quite some time she had felt that her life was too safe; nice, but well, just a plain, regular old life, where everybody always did exactly what they were supposed to in an orderly fashion. Nothing adventurous or extraordinary ever seemed to happen in her life. There had always been this dream of the exquisite, yet unattainable and nameless future. But she usually managed to shake such melancholy feelings away; they were disturbing to her peace of mind, her routine. They made her long for things unknown, leaving her dissatisfied. But today, after the gaiety and the mindless rush of yet another evening spent pursuing meaningless pleasure, she knew she could no longer ignore the call of the wild.
She had to get out of this rut that life had become. She needed to meet other people, people who might help her put meaning back in her life, show her that there was much more to life than earning one’s living and being satisfied with one’s fate. She needed to accept challenges and take risks. Dissatisfaction was an essential, longing for the unattainable was inevitable. They had to be the constants henceforth. She must find something, someone that might complete her…perhaps a mission, perhaps just someone for whom she could make life better, or who made life better for her. This might help her stop being lonely in the midst of crowds, or then again it might not; if you stopped longing for something more, something better, something different, you might just as well stop living.

2007-12-24T16:39:00.001+05:30

It utterly amazes me as to why and how people spend their time thinking bad stuff about other people. In fact I am not sure whether such behavior deserves pity or disgust or utter surprise! Time is so precious and if it is spent plotting someone else’s downfall and thinking about ways to ensure that same someone else’s failure, what better way of wasting, in fact, losing time out of your own life! I wonder if such people really believe that they can spoil another’s future. I am a firm believer in the triumph of good over evil, naïve I know, but nevertheless true. It’s so much more preferable than being cynical and never finding any beauty anywhere. Ah…am not sure if I wish to venture into any philosophical meanderings so am signing off! Adios!

2007-12-24T16:38:00.000+05:30

Hmm…this is a fresh attempt at writing this blog. Let me state the ground rules. This is my take on the world, my perspective and my opinions and if you do not agree with the stuff here don’t worry; you are not necessarily in the wrong…it’s just that I think I am right.

Now that we are done with the basic stuff the rest ought to just flow like melted chocolate…all rich and deliciously sinful but Ah! It’s almost like somebody has frozen my mind and nothing delightful is ready to emerge as yet. So ideally, I ought to shut shop instead of trying to seem funny…its not as if anybody is ever going to read this and what’s the use of being funny for one’s own self?

Actually that’s really sad, because why should I care about being funny for other people?

2007-12-19T15:05:00.000+05:30

Reflections on Self

Shadows, secrets, mysteries
What would we do without them?
In my life, in your life,
These dark spaces exist.
We hide them behind doors,
Behind cupboards, in vaults
Or simply behind a mask.
The world expects a certain face
And we are cowards,
Craving acceptance.
So we show the world
What it wants to see.

I am almost afraid that the real ‘me’ will simply crumble to dust behind the mask and not a soul will realize or care…
It’s terrifying, the way I can stand aside and look at the world as it passes me by. I look at the world and it amuses me. Sometimes tears mingle with the laughter, flowing away and drying off. No one stops them. The laughter is silent. So it hurts no one. I just look on, sometimes staring in astonishment, sometimes plain shocked. But no one notices. As if I don’t exist. Doesn’t the world miss me? Am I so insignificant? Ah! The eternal question!
Why do I often drift away like it is too hard to stay with the crowd and live up to its expectations? I need breaks- “away time”- to refresh myself and to convince myself that this world’s limits, rules and boundaries are for my own good!
Life should teach lessons on when to drop the mask and when to don a newer one…with the ones you love, you should be able to be entirely yourself…completely stripped off of all masks, drapery and paint.

You meet someone. Instantly your instinct tells you this person is your kind. But you are unsure, so you hesitate. And the person turns away and drifts off, unaware of your regard. How do you find people like yourself? How do you let them know you are one of them? How do you connect and trust yourself with someone else? What if they hurt you? What if you hurt them? Which is safer…emotion or its absence? So many questions and one long life to answer them…Perhaps every answer brings along a newer question so that you never stagnate…

2007-12-19T14:49:00.000+05:30

Reflections on Relationships

A person once told me that he believes that there should be no question of self-respect in love and philosophy. The same person said it is important to forget self in such cases. But I don’t know if I agree with that. I refrain from commenting about the philosophy aspect since I have not spent much time thinking about the impact of a particular philosophy on my life, but about personal relationships I do have very specific views and opinions. They could very well be erroneous but I wish to at least state them. At times, my thoughts become clearer if I put them down such that I can actually see them.

I agree that the ego should not come anywhere into picture here, but the individuality and identity, and hence self-respect, of each person involved is so very important. Why should I give up being myself just because another person thinks I should be different? Every person that enters my life will obviously influence me and hence my responses to some extent. But the individual that I am shall never change, ought not to change! It is tempting to believe that love will make a person able to give up all sense of “I” and also cease to exist for his or herself alone.

But these seem childishly romantic concepts…Uh oh! Let’s just leave that aside…

Since I am writing about my take on relationships anyway, let’s go on to that most special of all relationships…the parent-child bond. I firmly believe that the mother and father are hugely responsible for the kind of human being that a person becomes. Every person is essentially a different individual but the values of honesty, loyalty, commitment to truth and sincerity are eternal and ought not to change in this world. More often than not, the respect that a child has for these is a reflection on how the parents rate these values.

Suppose I, as a parent, don’t think even once about my flagrant disregard for all the afore-mentioned values, how can my child ever learn to respect the same? I think it is important to educate all parents, in fact all would-be parents too, about how to bring up their child. The parent must be able to give the child a sense of self-worth along with a wholehearted belief in the worthiness of all society. It is only if children care for the society they live in that they will stop and think of their fellow-beings. It is also important to allow the child to face new experiences and make his/her own mistakes…and to learn to handle these in a logical manner. Unless we bring up our new generation to be a sensible and responsible one, the dream of a perfectly rational society of men shall never take any tangible shape!

Perhaps all those in today’s generation, who dream of a better, beautiful society, must choose as their profession the education of young minds…so as to reverse the damage and to prevent further destruction of these young minds and soul. Being a teacher must be such a challenging task. A teacher can never be a substitute for the parent but he/she must be ready to step in, in case the parents shirk their responsibility. At times the child trusts the teacher so much more than anybody else and it is important that such trust never be destroyed! The betrayal of trust is a most heinous crime and a young child may never be willing to freely give his/her trust again if it is broken once!

Essentially, though every person is solely responsible for his/her actions, it is important to let each person learn early on in life to face the consequences of every action and hence learn to think well and long before taking any decision. And this lesson can be best learnt at home. The purity of a young person’s mind amazes me…why do we as a society seek to destroy this very beauty at every step so that we can step aside later and lament the loss of such a precious mind?

2007-07-05T21:48:00.000+05:30

The ‘Art of Living’ Experience

For the last few days aai and I have been attending the Art of Living part one course. I started off with an incredibly pessimistic attitude and perhaps that is a reason why I have been first questioning every single thing the teacher has said over the week before either accepting or rejecting the thought, idea, principle or philosophy. Actually he did say on the first day that some things must be accepted just like that…absorbed without doubt. But taking anything completely on trust without being convinced of the logic and the reasons concerned is very difficult for me. Maybe it is a trust issue…and I need to resolve it.
The philosophy that ‘this moment is the only one which you should live to the fullest’ is very true because you cannot in anyway alter the past or predict the future. Learning to look for the smallest pleasures in life and cherishing all these instances is crucial. What I cannot accept though is when the teacher says that no person is entirely responsible for his or her actions. I mean, if some one commits a crime, be it petty or heinous, then the person ought to be held responsible and must bear the consequences. One cannot place all responsibility on fate or karma or such stuff.
Another important point that came up was that of the ego…I had always thought that ego was to do with being extra proud and boastful but the teacher made a point that even diffidence and aloofness are forms of ego because of the very fact that you end up distancing yourself from other people. Even temper, anger, arrogance, deceit are apparently shades of ego. And in my case, I agree that I tend to prejudge people. I ought to be more open and more approachable. That itself will perhaps help me to be able to get to know people and converse with them. It is actually so much easier if you accept people as they are, instead of building up expectations about them and then being disappointed when they don’t match up to your expectations.
The breathing technique and meditation that we have been taught in the course does seem effective. I mean, breathing in more oxygen can only be an advantage, though I can’t bring myself to subscribe to the divine energy theory. Scientifically, though, it seems plausible that just taking in more oxygen into the body, you make it possible for each cell to generate a lot more ATP, thereby refreshing your system. Actually it might be interesting to see whether any data can be generated for the same on an experimental basis and also see whether brain wave patterns can be mapped so as to study the correlation with meditation.

2006-12-30T21:38:00.000+05:30

Observations...

This is my take on the way we are asked to live our lives, within the boundaries defined by an unwritten set of universally applied rules. My basic objection is to this generalization and total disregard for the individuality of a person. I believe there should be complete freedom for every person to choose to live his or her life as a personal collection of choices. If one starts with the primary tenet that man is a being of intelligence, then the question of correct choices does not arise since the only course possibly is the rational one. But it is a fact that most people go through life making the most ridiculously irrational choices and then refusing to accept the consequences of their actions. And that is when the entire mess is created…which must then be sorted out by the rational few!
So if I know that I am responsible for my own actions and am willing to live with their consequences, I should ideally be allowed to lead my life without someone else dictating to me the rules and limits. Such rules will be accepted blindly only by people who do not think for themselves. For a person whose life is based on logic, the limits should be obvious, in fact, not even necessary. How can betrayal, dishonesty, and the utter disregard for ability exist in a rational society? So I come to the question that haunts me…if man is a rational being and if a man is the essential component of a society, shouldn’t society be a rational institution?
But today’s society seems to exist and thrive in anarchy and in perpetual instability. You never know when and how disaster may strike. You don’t know what form this disaster will take. And the very act of existing in this eternal wait for something to go wrong is a contradiction to the essence of man, because what is the use of living if one does not expect joy and happiness to be the constant? Perhaps this is the storm before the calm…and the funny thing is that I do not expect the calm to be changeless; instead it is bound to be dynamic and vibrant, full of life and colour and so much more real than this uneasy instability where anybody kills, loots and grabs power with no respect for ownership, ability and effort! I truly believe in the existence of a perfectly logical and essentially happy society.