October 5, 2011 § 3 Comments
There is the point of indifference. I seem to keep reaching it only to feel the pinch again. There are times when tomorrow is already here. That feeling that it is inevitable that I have to go through my day. I crib a lot on twitter, but I am not sure if it is heart-felt any more. Probably a knee jerk reaction to everything that is happening, a vent.
I still haven’t got the hang of this friendship thing. At one moment a person is nice and smiling at you. The next moment they act like a stranger. It is confusing. And these aren’t random people you get to know on the web, these are ‘real people’. Going through random quotes on friendship isn’t going to help. There is no point really, it seems tiring to talk to people. I used to talk a lot. Now days, I have stopped talking to people all that much. A random conversation with a stranger on a train is fine but talking to ‘acquaintance’ isn’t worth it anymore.
I am afraid to talk about ‘me’. Talking about what I do is fine but I am not too sure if I can talk about myself to anyone. You think someone has become a friend and has risen beyond seeing you as weak when you talk about problems but it isn’t so. Even with people who you have known for most of your life. This probably is growing up- one needs to shut oneself in a tight shell.
It is remarkable how one has to learn not to be offended, as well. My standards for the world have almost reached 0 but not quite. Still, day by day my expectations keep falling(much like the stock markets now). Twitter helps me retain my sanity, still there are times I wonder what is the purpose of the whole site.
People may come, people may go but I go on forever.
September 12, 2011 § 2 Comments
The boy had a box of matchsticks in his hand. In front of him was a candle- A plain old cream-white candle. The only light in the room came from the LED street lights outside the window. The murmur of the rain and the occasional vehicle were the only sounds that made their way in. His eyes sparkled bright as he lit each matchstick and watched it die even as he tried to light the candle.
He would have been about 10 years old. His brows were in keen concentration and he smiled rarely. There was a bottle of water next to him, which seemed to never run out. There was perspiration on his forehead. His hair was unkempt and fell on his forehead. He had brown eyes and his nose was rather flat. He sat there legs crossed and kept striking the matches. His hands were slightly large for his age and the fingers showed signs of effort.
The artist stared at the boy and in his vision, painted. Hopeless though it seemed, he couldn’t help noticing that all that the boy wanted to do was light the candle. He never seemed to run out of matchsticks. He kept trying, again and again. He probably would grow old and the water would turn into whiskey. The calm face might lose its steadiness and become wrinkle ridden. His eyes may lose their charm to the light and he may start looking up occasionally at the window. He might go on till the day in desperation, he struck a match for one last time, tried to light the candle, watched it burn out and breath in the smoke for one last time.
But the boy had no clue what was outside. All he knew was that he had to light the candle. He did not know why. But he would have to keep trying, till he succeeded.
Matchbox of hope.
August 29, 2011 § 3 Comments
There are some books which attract you. For some reason, one gets pulled towards them and then there is no turning back. One knows that it is going to affect one is strange ways. Memories Of A Rolling Stone, did precisely that. It has been over a week since I completed the book and I am still mesmerized, influenced and inspired by the book.
This is the first autobiography that I have completed. The book not only gave me an insight into the women’s movement in India but also segments of our history. One of the toughest things to do is to accept that one is wrong- the author talks about the misconception which existed prior to the study conducted for the UN report(during the International Women’s decade) and how even after conclusive facts, politicians and governments were still resistant and apprehensive in accepting the study.
The author talks with humility and confidence which gave me the shudders. In times when exaggeration is the staple and limelight is what many seek, she maintains a poise and narrates her story with calm and unadulterated passion. There are many who dismiss the women’s movement as that of the elite the author highlights the fact that indeed it was so and that rural and poor women, women who did the actual work in the fields where still riddled in the old narrow-minded society.
The book opened a new perspective for me. This is the first time, I have had the opportunity to listen someone who was part of the system. Vina Mazumdar talks about her journey from her home is Kolkatta, through independence, through Oxford, as a teacher and then as a part of the women’s movement. We learn from her life experiences and come to realize that a certain amount of tact and willpower is needed to tackle the problems in our society and country.
While our politicians and TV anchors harp away to glory, there are many who do the actual work. They are the ones who are responsible for our development, freedom and day-to-day existence. The author, inspires and at the end of the day, all I can do is thank her for the book. Well narrated and detailed, the book is like the author a Rolling Stone- the pages keep turning. It would be delightful to have a teacher like her!
May 17, 2011 § 4 Comments
I would love to stand on top of the tallest hill in the world and shout my lungs out and roll on the grass at that tallest hill laughing away like a maniac. But since I cannot for myriad reasons(like for eg. me being really lazy person), I just decide to think about it and end up day dreaming, rather evening dreaming while doing the chest press at the gym.
It is rather significant fact that life is so much more enjoyable when you pretend it to be enjoyable. Over a period of time it does become enjoyable. In that way anything and everything is enjoyable, including walking in 40C and sweating all over. Life is in pretense than in the actuals, simple because there are times when one has no clue as to what is real.
It is easy to say gulping down a tetra pack of apple juice is your reality but it probably isn’t the reality of a prodigal daughter sitting in a bar and drinking away or that kid in the corner of the road trying to sell coloring books for some unknown mafia. But you learn to ignore both and still fall in love with that costly car and that dark street with a single street lamp and cool evening sea breeze.
Not that you are poor or something. You have reached material contentment and it should last a while- as long as people keep making annoying ads.
I stopped calling myself a writer. Not that I can’t find time, but I don’t see the point in writing. You can feel depressed and bothered and writing does ease it, but you don’t make anything out of it. You take a stance on a topic and you can argue but you don’t achieve anything. Thinking is one thing, doing is another. I am trying to figure out how to get things done.
I will start writing stories and the like again sooner rather than later but I continue writing poems every now and then- poetry is that verse that reminds you of your joyous self. Some say I read too many depressing books, but I enjoy them. There is a part of me that enjoys being grave. There is no use fighting my love for melancholy, I embrace it, enjoy it and continue. And while it my sound bad, it was necessary to reach this point- now I can enjoy those smaller things which I couldn’t before. I am happy because I don’t have a reason to feel sad. And even when I feel sad, I know I am happy about it.
I went to North India for the first time. There are as many Indians as stars in the universe. You can never put it in words nor in pictures. It is one long motion film, never ending and never ending. The contrasts are too much but Jai ho! and corruption followed me all the way to Wagh Border. Someone told me corruption isn’t in our DNA, but I tell you it is.
I refuse to write about things that bother me any more because I know they bother me and that if something has to be done about it, I need to do it. All that is important is that I remain happy forever. And that is possible only when sources I seek happiness from exist and are happy.
I still dream and I always will, it is just that I see things differently when I am awake, but my dreams always inspire me.
I exist because I think, but more importantly I exist.
April 4, 2011 § 2 Comments
They say nothing is constant except change, but no one seems to have any change! I treasure change- no way would I part with 5, 10 or even 20 Rs. , I need to have enough of ’em! As it is, bargaining with the Auto drivers is madding, I am not going to fall for the no change excuse- no sir!
The summer is here, already. It drove in a Nano, whizzing past the Altos, Autos and well the thermometer got all hot for it apparently. Hopefully it knows that Nanoes are prone to catch fire- time we replace our veins and arteries with Havells?
Too many things happening, though everyone seems to be talking only about the World Cup. Time for hockey to get a jockey- the next best thing to naked you see?
Bad jokes apart, I am busy playing a game with the universe. And I think we have a NDA(Non-disclosure agreement), so can’t say much about it. Well expect:-
1) One can become calm without studying B.calm.
That book was amazing! I did hear many people couldn’t get past the first page- blame you not- that is why it is really good! Catch 22, you see? My life is being defined by these ridiculous books and terrible books(the ones authors send me- one fellow even spammed me for giving a thumbs down!), which frankly I am enjoying.
But on the down side, reading a lot means, I cannot write. And anyway, my brain is dead, almost. Guess I haven’t done anything intellectually challenging for a long time now. It probably is going to take a lot of effort to get it back alive- maybe I should eat Aliva?
The heat is unbearable! And for the first time in my life- no proper summer holidays! I feel all grown up- need to keep reminding myself, that I am only 19.
No exams for 2 years! Doesn’t that sounds wonderful? Apparently not, for some. Not that the exams are challenging or anything. See, now I sound all snobbish, which I am not. I am just a normal person, who suddenly seems to like using ‘I’ a lot.
But of course no one thinks I am normal. I am so used to standing out in a crowd that, that has become my way of blending in. You know that lemon slice on your drink? Some love to give it a squeeze, others just look at it curiously, while the rest throw it out without another thought.
I am of course, not a lemon slice, I used to be, maybe, but not now. What is the point in trying to make friends anyway? I have enough of them(they can be counted with one hand) to keep me happy for now.
Anyway, take care, be nice and use nycil, nicyl or however you write it.
February 23, 2011 § 6 Comments
Fast, exciting and thrilling!
The book begins with a flurry of activities, skipping across various places both home and abroad confusing, but nevertheless exciting. We dwell into the lives of various people and we reach the climax at the wedding. The book gives us what it promises Fate, Fraud And A Friday Wedding.
One thing I liked about the book was the simplicity. The demography chosen is what we are familiar with Higher middle class/Rich Indians. The author has avoided long descriptions and tells the story- and pretty well at that. The beginning was slightly nebulous and confusing, but this adds to the excitement and has you wondering. The chain of events take shape pretty well, albeit the chapter where everything merges, seems badly edited(not badly written the editors could have given better spacing and had demarcations when shifting from one person/scene to another).
The style is simple and the voice suits the characters. There are times when you can feel the tension and sympathies with the characters. The book flows without any inhibition and does not meander.
A thriller which is thrilling. A book which I would recommend, if you want something light and entertaining to read, probably when on the move.
Rating:- 6/10. There are places where I feel the editing could have been better. I read The White Tiger before this book and this book was surely more engaging(as is this book).
P.S:- The author’s website.
February 8, 2011 § 14 Comments
Well the results are out and I have cleared Intermediate. Whines, champ-pains anyone? The sky did not turn a dark yellow, dirty medicine colour, neither did thunder roll over Parangi Malai(St.Thomas Mt.), but as I sat trying there refreshing the mobile page furiously, I did get my results with as much pomp and gusto as Humpty Dumpty had during the great fall.
Of course, no one knows why eggs sit on walls, or why companies have firewalls. And what is with firewalls anyway? The term is very misleading in the Indian context. Didn’t Sita do the agnipariksha to prove that Ravana didn’t touch her(if only 298 existed then-I googled that btw.). Doesn’t that mean, we have to break through and prove ourselves? Mythology my friend shouldn’t only be in spirits or Bunsen burners, it should come in LPG cylinders, with cycle brand agarbati.
Anyway, I hope I don’t need to write any exams for another 2 years. Hope because I may end up being forced to join some other stupid course 😐
My friend’s play ‘A Play About Death’ is happening in March. If you are in Chennai, keep track of their FB page to know more. Or well, I will write about it soon enough 🙂
A very short post, yes, but well see you soon.