I have done it two times in a row now.And i must find a reason behind it.
I am good with thoughts.With words.In my head.How i observe them form..in a linear dynamic flow they appear from some unknown corners of my consciousness,and they materialize before me,invisible packets of ideas.And they flow,flow..getting more and more beautiful,more and more meaningful..profound..till they erupt in an explosion of color.Bliss.
I find myself confused if i am being whispered by a higher intelligence.Or is it another version of me.And what i wonder most of all is:Where does it all vanish as a new day begins?Why is it so difficult to keep oneself constantly inspired?
I again found myself alone when i needed my mind to function.Not that it didnt.But with jitters.And at all the wrong places.I told myself instantly:It happened becasue there was a reason behind it.Allah wants me to learn more.He isnt rewarding me with satisfaction because he thinks i ma not ready.The words i uttered ..am capable of much better,i have known much better versions of the answers i gave..and yet..i didnt,when it mattered the most.It cant be without a reason.
I see my life gradually turning into a battleground.I am changing and there is a very strong resistance.I am witnessing a daily clash between truth and falsehood in me.Today,i saw it wide open.From the eyes of a large group of people who were listening to me.I,awkward,ineloquent..spoke my heart out and realized,i dont believe myself in the first place.Not fully.
I was asked to describe myself.
My mind started toying with several ways accessible to it.Should it be wit dominating?Is my wit appreciable by others?Should plain speak do?I have too interesting a life to be summed up in a minute.BUt i am here with a purpose,aint i?Its supposed to be a game.Where you have to show you have it in you to make it as a good businessman. Do i have it in me?Oh yes,i do.But ofcourse, certain things have left an indelible mark on me.Certain beliefs of mine lay shattered now.HOw do i speak of my new found way of life,and tell them i mean to keep it this way?
Basically..i found myself struggling with the idea of honesty.Is that an escape?Can it be an easy way out?Its easy to be honest.Absolutely easy.Its like putting your arms down and taking a deep breath.There you are.YO wanna give up speaking lies,pretending.Its so easy.
Is that why its so underrated?
Friday, February 19, 2010
Thursday, February 18, 2010
La Vita E Bella
Life's lately been very engaging.The monotonous continuity has given way to novelty.And they have mostly been beautiful.
A few months back,i was so confined to myself,and my small world,and my petty worries.I had my window to the world with me..movies,novels,a small number of friends..and suddenly,i found my metaphorical window turn breathtakingly real.The world stopped being confined to a 15" screen and i witnessed it for what it is:A panorama of reality that can not really be captured by any lens,no matter how sophisticated.
I found the tightly closed circle of my friends expanding suddenly.That there were all around these gems i simply couldnt let go of without making them permanent part of my life.And i havent regretted the decision one bit.
Mostly,i have seen my belief in the goodness of people,the goodness of this world,grow manifold.Its such an amazingly beautiful feeling to know there are people who trust.Without asking questions.People,who care.Without ever having seen you.I feel blessed.
A few months back,i was so confined to myself,and my small world,and my petty worries.I had my window to the world with me..movies,novels,a small number of friends..and suddenly,i found my metaphorical window turn breathtakingly real.The world stopped being confined to a 15" screen and i witnessed it for what it is:A panorama of reality that can not really be captured by any lens,no matter how sophisticated.
I found the tightly closed circle of my friends expanding suddenly.That there were all around these gems i simply couldnt let go of without making them permanent part of my life.And i havent regretted the decision one bit.
Mostly,i have seen my belief in the goodness of people,the goodness of this world,grow manifold.Its such an amazingly beautiful feeling to know there are people who trust.Without asking questions.People,who care.Without ever having seen you.I feel blessed.
Monday, January 18, 2010
My Peripheral Thoughts.
Ok.I must admit it feels very uncomfortable to start posting again.There are two reasons for this.
1)I feel a huge sense of guilt at not living upto the promise i made to myself about writing my experience of my religion and the culture i have grown up in.I felt intimidated by the task.Infact,come to think of it,i get intimidated way too often by too many things.At those times i get this impression of my being a small elf and the person/thing i am intimidated by to be a giant towering above me.And i squirm as they squirm in early cartoons.And i make a pleading kind of face.And when the visual fades off my head,i am no longer strong enough to fight back and stand my ground.so every time i wanted to come back and write in my blog,i saw a giant looming over me,and i felt like running.And apparently thats what i did.
2)I am a very irregular person.Add to that the fact,that i am limited in my inagination too.I dont have mighty fantastic things to say.And no matter how much i ignore the fact,at the back of y head,i always have this desire that people would stumble upon my blog.Read it.Be happy reading my words,as i am when i read blogs of other people i stumble upon.I feel so inspired by their creativity.And it often worries me that no one would be inspired by my creativity,for i know for sure i have very little of it.
Anyways,now that i have confessed my guilts,i feel lighter and ready to write a lot many things that have been going on in my head.
I must also,before beginning,admit that i am consciously allowing myself to copy Mark Haddon's style of narration.Rather the narration he used in The Curious Incident of The Dog In The Night Time.
Now i said i am consciously allowing myself.Because the words are coming like that quite unintentiopnally.Or rather from the Sub-Conscious.Only i am allowing myself to write that way for i feel there's nothing wrong with aping someone's style.And then,i am not aping.I am naturally feeling inclined to write that way.Its simple,without unnecessary frills and i like it this way.And anyways,i am not a professional writer and i wont be sued by Mark Haddon.
I have a highly impressionable mind actually.I tend to adopt things so deep inside my mind that it starts affecting my way of living.It has its advantages and disadvantages.The advantages are quite obvious.When i read a very creatively written book,i end up adopting that style of writing myself.And thus,i appreciate the inner meaning of the book more.For i feel like the writer myself.Often there are some very impressionable character in books and movies who end up enering my subconscios.And i start behaving like them.Earlier i wasnt aware of it.But one day i read an interview (i dont remember whose) where the person described a particular school of acting(which i distinctly remembered just before trying to remember it ryt now..a russian name..Stalinsly?NO..for if it qwould have been stalinsky,it would have made a ping in my mind,but it didnt.Slavinsky??Well..i could have google it,but my net is very very slow.And i hate bringing a pause to my thoughts.I wonder if thinking continuoosly is called having a Stream of Consciousness.And now,i have gotten very further away from my main topic.
So this style of acting involves living the character for a few days or weeks to 'get in the skin' of the character.Now that gave me immense encouragement.for now when i get a strong impression in my mind of a character,i become aware of it.And i feel myself to be an actor living 'in the skin' of the character.And it gives me something very creative to do,and makes me very happy.(ofcourse,if its a jolly character,like Jeeves,or Tyler Durden or Al-Pacino from Scent of A Woman.) But even when it makes me feel sad,i enjoy the process of living another person's life for myself.
Presently i find myself thinking like Christopher does.Simple chunks of thoughts,coherently linked together.But i cant make myself feel absolutely like him,for he was Autistic and he underwent too much pain.Which i can go through but it would alarm people around me far too much.And i definitely dont want that.That is also a reason why i never actualy want to become an actor,for i am too self-conscious.I cant take people staring at me.Or doing anything that will bring me to their notice.Anything weird i mean.Though now that i am grown up and an Adult,i dont feel as self-conscious as i used to in my boyhood days.
Having said all the 'peripheral' thoughts of my mind,now i would like to devote myself to discuss the Central thought.But then,that would make it a very long blog.And though nobody reads it,if ever someone does,he/she would be too tired.So i think i would put that in my next entry.
1)I feel a huge sense of guilt at not living upto the promise i made to myself about writing my experience of my religion and the culture i have grown up in.I felt intimidated by the task.Infact,come to think of it,i get intimidated way too often by too many things.At those times i get this impression of my being a small elf and the person/thing i am intimidated by to be a giant towering above me.And i squirm as they squirm in early cartoons.And i make a pleading kind of face.And when the visual fades off my head,i am no longer strong enough to fight back and stand my ground.so every time i wanted to come back and write in my blog,i saw a giant looming over me,and i felt like running.And apparently thats what i did.
2)I am a very irregular person.Add to that the fact,that i am limited in my inagination too.I dont have mighty fantastic things to say.And no matter how much i ignore the fact,at the back of y head,i always have this desire that people would stumble upon my blog.Read it.Be happy reading my words,as i am when i read blogs of other people i stumble upon.I feel so inspired by their creativity.And it often worries me that no one would be inspired by my creativity,for i know for sure i have very little of it.
Anyways,now that i have confessed my guilts,i feel lighter and ready to write a lot many things that have been going on in my head.
I must also,before beginning,admit that i am consciously allowing myself to copy Mark Haddon's style of narration.Rather the narration he used in The Curious Incident of The Dog In The Night Time.
Now i said i am consciously allowing myself.Because the words are coming like that quite unintentiopnally.Or rather from the Sub-Conscious.Only i am allowing myself to write that way for i feel there's nothing wrong with aping someone's style.And then,i am not aping.I am naturally feeling inclined to write that way.Its simple,without unnecessary frills and i like it this way.And anyways,i am not a professional writer and i wont be sued by Mark Haddon.
I have a highly impressionable mind actually.I tend to adopt things so deep inside my mind that it starts affecting my way of living.It has its advantages and disadvantages.The advantages are quite obvious.When i read a very creatively written book,i end up adopting that style of writing myself.And thus,i appreciate the inner meaning of the book more.For i feel like the writer myself.Often there are some very impressionable character in books and movies who end up enering my subconscios.And i start behaving like them.Earlier i wasnt aware of it.But one day i read an interview (i dont remember whose) where the person described a particular school of acting(which i distinctly remembered just before trying to remember it ryt now..a russian name..Stalinsly?NO..for if it qwould have been stalinsky,it would have made a ping in my mind,but it didnt.Slavinsky??Well..i could have google it,but my net is very very slow.And i hate bringing a pause to my thoughts.I wonder if thinking continuoosly is called having a Stream of Consciousness.And now,i have gotten very further away from my main topic.
So this style of acting involves living the character for a few days or weeks to 'get in the skin' of the character.Now that gave me immense encouragement.for now when i get a strong impression in my mind of a character,i become aware of it.And i feel myself to be an actor living 'in the skin' of the character.And it gives me something very creative to do,and makes me very happy.(ofcourse,if its a jolly character,like Jeeves,or Tyler Durden or Al-Pacino from Scent of A Woman.) But even when it makes me feel sad,i enjoy the process of living another person's life for myself.
Presently i find myself thinking like Christopher does.Simple chunks of thoughts,coherently linked together.But i cant make myself feel absolutely like him,for he was Autistic and he underwent too much pain.Which i can go through but it would alarm people around me far too much.And i definitely dont want that.That is also a reason why i never actualy want to become an actor,for i am too self-conscious.I cant take people staring at me.Or doing anything that will bring me to their notice.Anything weird i mean.Though now that i am grown up and an Adult,i dont feel as self-conscious as i used to in my boyhood days.
Having said all the 'peripheral' thoughts of my mind,now i would like to devote myself to discuss the Central thought.But then,that would make it a very long blog.And though nobody reads it,if ever someone does,he/she would be too tired.So i think i would put that in my next entry.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
On being a Muslim.
Is it too lofty and profound a subject for me to speak on at this moment of my life?Certainly,this is one theme on which i would have a lot to speak on as i advance in life,but its my view on my religion at this present juncture of my life,and its influences in my past,that i wish to record here.For the fear that by the time i deem myslf competent to write a piece on it that does justice to my actual experience of being a Muslim,i would have forgotten many of the intricacies of my youthful take on Islam,as indeed i have forgotten much of my childhood impressions.Though i would try my best here to capture as much of it as i can. An effort i would try to put in the accounts about to follow is to steer clear of the usual trappings of an inexperienced mind venturing upon prose writing-the tendency to show off one's mental depth.As far as i knw myslf,evry attmpt of mine to do so,has a profoundly negative impact on my narrative,as in simplicity,the story comes out much more vividly than in the trap of flight of fantasy. Nt that i would be able to completely remain free from its influence tho!And given rather lofty ambition to make this my longest post on a single topic,i have decided to complete it in neat chunks of multiple postings.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
So Long,So Good.And A Disclaimer!
I am happy i am blogging.
Its letting out the demons gnawing me all these years.Or those words..those feelings..those experiences..waiting to come out of me.Get themselves a physical home somewhere.
Had been a supremely undisciplined diary writer before this.And those diaries used to be bursts of uninhibited frustrations.Here..its in moderation!There's this ever-present ever-reading other eye i have always been conscious of while writing.In here,it can very well be a reality.Maybe the reason why i have chosen to allow my blog to be accessed by anyone destiny(read google) directs to this space.It keeps me cautious..alert.
But the fact remains that this space here..my writings here..are staunchly personal.Its more my own mental ramblings,and am often embarrassed by their lack-of-purpose or creativeness.Its as plain as can be.A replica,or atleast the closest replica of what my mind goes through on a daily basis.
I intend to be more honest,put more of myself in these pages.It will be my dirty linen which i wash in public,though in anonymity.I do doubt that though..anyone REALLY wanting to know my true identity wont have to be in FBI to do so.Its there,in front for all to see,in plain n obvious fashion.But then,the question is,why would anyone want to know my real details in the first place?!
So..i was rambling about trying to be more honest.Put those guarded emotions here along with the not-so-keenly-guarded ones.Let it be my other 'mind'..which will free me from my never-ending analysis of myself for some time..so i can deal with a clear,uncluttered head,on things that are constructive.Sure they will have my reflection on them,being the products of my thoughts,bt at the moment,there's too much of me in me.I need to put a part of me here in these pages and give space to the other,outgoing part of me to flourish a little more.I have almost been stunting its growth with my intense,continuous brooding.Though,it remains my favourite activity till date.
I can well see this in this fashion:That i am a scientist,or a movie director,involved in a creative process.But i need to come back and brush my technical competencies.Do the essential review and analysis of my daily work.Certainly,that will lead to a better discovery/invention..or a beter movie than i would otherwise make.
And what is more..i will carry a light head on my shoulders.
Its letting out the demons gnawing me all these years.Or those words..those feelings..those experiences..waiting to come out of me.Get themselves a physical home somewhere.
Had been a supremely undisciplined diary writer before this.And those diaries used to be bursts of uninhibited frustrations.Here..its in moderation!There's this ever-present ever-reading other eye i have always been conscious of while writing.In here,it can very well be a reality.Maybe the reason why i have chosen to allow my blog to be accessed by anyone destiny(read google) directs to this space.It keeps me cautious..alert.
But the fact remains that this space here..my writings here..are staunchly personal.Its more my own mental ramblings,and am often embarrassed by their lack-of-purpose or creativeness.Its as plain as can be.A replica,or atleast the closest replica of what my mind goes through on a daily basis.
I intend to be more honest,put more of myself in these pages.It will be my dirty linen which i wash in public,though in anonymity.I do doubt that though..anyone REALLY wanting to know my true identity wont have to be in FBI to do so.Its there,in front for all to see,in plain n obvious fashion.But then,the question is,why would anyone want to know my real details in the first place?!
So..i was rambling about trying to be more honest.Put those guarded emotions here along with the not-so-keenly-guarded ones.Let it be my other 'mind'..which will free me from my never-ending analysis of myself for some time..so i can deal with a clear,uncluttered head,on things that are constructive.Sure they will have my reflection on them,being the products of my thoughts,bt at the moment,there's too much of me in me.I need to put a part of me here in these pages and give space to the other,outgoing part of me to flourish a little more.I have almost been stunting its growth with my intense,continuous brooding.Though,it remains my favourite activity till date.
I can well see this in this fashion:That i am a scientist,or a movie director,involved in a creative process.But i need to come back and brush my technical competencies.Do the essential review and analysis of my daily work.Certainly,that will lead to a better discovery/invention..or a beter movie than i would otherwise make.
And what is more..i will carry a light head on my shoulders.
A Lament..
Just how many times has it been..
That i have stumbled upon something exquisitely beautiful by other people..A flawless piece of writing..A hit-in-the-gut kind of thought..A marvelous piece of music,lyric..A superb one-liner,a mind-blowing quote..a moving story,a compelling cinema..marvelous display of mental,physical efficiency in science,literature,sports..in general everyday life itself..
And when i have gotten over my initial wonder..when my mind becomes used to the everyday reality and its mundane flow all over again..i sit and think and think very hard..what would be my contribution to this long list of human victories.Not for the sake of my name's immortality,though i wont deny that thought never comes to me,but for the sake of returning the deep gratitude i feel for all those talented men and women who have elevated the quality of my life,made me attain,for a few minutes or more,to the lofty heights of perfect bliss.
And thus,inspired by a missionary zeal..i plan n think and try to come up with that one thing that someone else can thank me for.I end up with embarrassing results most often..i give birth to mediocre things that are not really fit to be there in the list which inspired me in the first place and i know it pretty well..often,i have an inspiration and a vague belief that this will be it.this will be my contribution.But it often loses its charm mid-way.And many a times,i am too lazy to give shape to my inspirations.
And so this lament remains...
The redeeming part is though..as long as the lament is there,my search will not end...
That i have stumbled upon something exquisitely beautiful by other people..A flawless piece of writing..A hit-in-the-gut kind of thought..A marvelous piece of music,lyric..A superb one-liner,a mind-blowing quote..a moving story,a compelling cinema..marvelous display of mental,physical efficiency in science,literature,sports..in general everyday life itself..
And when i have gotten over my initial wonder..when my mind becomes used to the everyday reality and its mundane flow all over again..i sit and think and think very hard..what would be my contribution to this long list of human victories.Not for the sake of my name's immortality,though i wont deny that thought never comes to me,but for the sake of returning the deep gratitude i feel for all those talented men and women who have elevated the quality of my life,made me attain,for a few minutes or more,to the lofty heights of perfect bliss.
And thus,inspired by a missionary zeal..i plan n think and try to come up with that one thing that someone else can thank me for.I end up with embarrassing results most often..i give birth to mediocre things that are not really fit to be there in the list which inspired me in the first place and i know it pretty well..often,i have an inspiration and a vague belief that this will be it.this will be my contribution.But it often loses its charm mid-way.And many a times,i am too lazy to give shape to my inspirations.
And so this lament remains...
The redeeming part is though..as long as the lament is there,my search will not end...
Being Me..
I feel conscious of being 'me' at times.
Sometimes,its a fuzzy feeling i get while looking at myself in the mirror.(Coming to write about such stuff,i realize what a freak i must appear to a observer reading me!!!thank god its just me..we are all our own babies,aren't we)
A feeling of alienation from the current reality.A sudden awareness of my absurdity..why i have to be this way or sound this way.Infact,i feel like meeting a stranger and being told its me.
The very act of trying to get to terms with the fact of my being 'me' leaves my head reeling.I become conscious of my voice..my limbs,my skin.Somehow,i don't seem to believe all of this is me.The very reality of things appear to hard to swallow...
I wont say these are absolutely unpleasant times as such.They are a welcome break at times.And ofcourse,they are rare..
Have noticed they are of two types though..The pleasant ones..when i feel happy to have landed up in my skin.I like the way i look (definitely not all the time) and think(most definitely not most of the times).I see myself as this outsider,and an inner me telling me how much i can make of myself.What lofty heights i can attain!
The other,the yang to the yin,is predictably depressing.Its my facing my weaknesses..my failures.I feel so strongly i could disown myself.Get out of this hideous mess i have been locked in.
Its rather funny how my inner self is completely convinced of my genius.And how vitriolic it gets when i try to tell him:"Dude,don't overdo it man!"
It grows all grumpy.It will sulk and wont talk to me.Or it will think esoteric thoughts that would go straight past my head(and naturally by its own dignified head as well,the pretentious b@#$*&..its MY head afterall!)
I remember reading The Prince by that exotically-named French author once.(Some Saint-de-exupery..or some such dashy name..i can well google it,but does it really matter?!)Now..to be honest,i found the book pretty boring.It had its fun part..all the fascinating journeys and the elephant-in-the-hat funda..but surely,the fellow overdid it.And it was written just too plainly.Or maybe not.I was in Bhubaneshwar for the first time.And was all alone in a rather depressing flat the whole day,with merely a laptop and a neat collection of DVD's with me.At the moment,sure,its a delightful prospect,i having become a genuine film-fanatic and evrything..But back in those days,i hadnt had my brush with cinema.
I vividly remember,my getting very tired with all the reading(though the book is pretty thin,it proved that day to be remarkably heavy to go through)and deciding to keep it down.It wasn't making clear sense to me actually..there were some high-brow stuff running beneath the kiddish travels and talks..and i wasnt really getting any real hold of the same.Now..this Blue-Blooded other me..the pseudo-intellectual got all offended!!So it wouldn't let me watch a movie in peace,or if i would sit by the balcony thinking nothing,it would creep up in the guise of a harmless thought and then torment me:until i picked up the book again and finished it to the last!
Its the same with Movies at the moment.Miss a line,miss a little part of it,And he would go all restless.So its always from the opening credits,to the end.Not a scene missed or skipped.Not so for the dull ones too.
Well..that paints a pretty obsessive picture of me,doesnt it??
But yknw wht..its not THAT bad.I am conscious of it all,so no split personality issue.And what if there is?For all i know,it would be so much fun!
I feel afraid admitting this even to myself,but i have an actor in me.I love being so many other people than who i am.I find it exasperating to be just me day in and day out.Adds a little spice being someone new time to time.And its mostly natural.Yeah..the movie influences are a different story altogether.Being Michael Corleone was a great kick!Never knew i was capable of carrying it off!Then..I have been Renton.Tyler Durden.Capt.Jack Sparrow(who hasnt!)..And there are characters whose names i have forgotten,but not the peronalities..by the simple reason of having lived them!Jack Nicholson's in One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest.Matt Damon's In Good Will Hunting.And Russell Crowe as John Nash in A Beautiful Mind.Come to think of it,flawed,mentally challenged characters leave the greatest impact in me.I tend to adopt their unique mannerisms..their way of walking,talking..reacting.M sure i have missed many here.
And am doing so willingly for i have suddenly rememberd how people,friends,general people i have a casual talk with,leave a deep impression on me.Infact,spending enough time with someone even a bit off the usual tendencies leaves me in a state of induced personality lap.(wow..thats a term i seem to have invented jlt!)
To sum it up (for i must..this can surely go on forever^infinity)
I love being me.I hate being me.But never for a moment i stop being me.
Sometimes,its a fuzzy feeling i get while looking at myself in the mirror.(Coming to write about such stuff,i realize what a freak i must appear to a observer reading me!!!thank god its just me..we are all our own babies,aren't we)
A feeling of alienation from the current reality.A sudden awareness of my absurdity..why i have to be this way or sound this way.Infact,i feel like meeting a stranger and being told its me.
The very act of trying to get to terms with the fact of my being 'me' leaves my head reeling.I become conscious of my voice..my limbs,my skin.Somehow,i don't seem to believe all of this is me.The very reality of things appear to hard to swallow...
I wont say these are absolutely unpleasant times as such.They are a welcome break at times.And ofcourse,they are rare..
Have noticed they are of two types though..The pleasant ones..when i feel happy to have landed up in my skin.I like the way i look (definitely not all the time) and think(most definitely not most of the times).I see myself as this outsider,and an inner me telling me how much i can make of myself.What lofty heights i can attain!
The other,the yang to the yin,is predictably depressing.Its my facing my weaknesses..my failures.I feel so strongly i could disown myself.Get out of this hideous mess i have been locked in.
Its rather funny how my inner self is completely convinced of my genius.And how vitriolic it gets when i try to tell him:"Dude,don't overdo it man!"
It grows all grumpy.It will sulk and wont talk to me.Or it will think esoteric thoughts that would go straight past my head(and naturally by its own dignified head as well,the pretentious b@#$*&..its MY head afterall!)
I remember reading The Prince by that exotically-named French author once.(Some Saint-de-exupery..or some such dashy name..i can well google it,but does it really matter?!)Now..to be honest,i found the book pretty boring.It had its fun part..all the fascinating journeys and the elephant-in-the-hat funda..but surely,the fellow overdid it.And it was written just too plainly.Or maybe not.I was in Bhubaneshwar for the first time.And was all alone in a rather depressing flat the whole day,with merely a laptop and a neat collection of DVD's with me.At the moment,sure,its a delightful prospect,i having become a genuine film-fanatic and evrything..But back in those days,i hadnt had my brush with cinema.
I vividly remember,my getting very tired with all the reading(though the book is pretty thin,it proved that day to be remarkably heavy to go through)and deciding to keep it down.It wasn't making clear sense to me actually..there were some high-brow stuff running beneath the kiddish travels and talks..and i wasnt really getting any real hold of the same.Now..this Blue-Blooded other me..the pseudo-intellectual got all offended!!So it wouldn't let me watch a movie in peace,or if i would sit by the balcony thinking nothing,it would creep up in the guise of a harmless thought and then torment me:until i picked up the book again and finished it to the last!
Its the same with Movies at the moment.Miss a line,miss a little part of it,And he would go all restless.So its always from the opening credits,to the end.Not a scene missed or skipped.Not so for the dull ones too.
Well..that paints a pretty obsessive picture of me,doesnt it??
But yknw wht..its not THAT bad.I am conscious of it all,so no split personality issue.And what if there is?For all i know,it would be so much fun!
I feel afraid admitting this even to myself,but i have an actor in me.I love being so many other people than who i am.I find it exasperating to be just me day in and day out.Adds a little spice being someone new time to time.And its mostly natural.Yeah..the movie influences are a different story altogether.Being Michael Corleone was a great kick!Never knew i was capable of carrying it off!Then..I have been Renton.Tyler Durden.Capt.Jack Sparrow(who hasnt!)..And there are characters whose names i have forgotten,but not the peronalities..by the simple reason of having lived them!Jack Nicholson's in One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest.Matt Damon's In Good Will Hunting.And Russell Crowe as John Nash in A Beautiful Mind.Come to think of it,flawed,mentally challenged characters leave the greatest impact in me.I tend to adopt their unique mannerisms..their way of walking,talking..reacting.M sure i have missed many here.
And am doing so willingly for i have suddenly rememberd how people,friends,general people i have a casual talk with,leave a deep impression on me.Infact,spending enough time with someone even a bit off the usual tendencies leaves me in a state of induced personality lap.(wow..thats a term i seem to have invented jlt!)
To sum it up (for i must..this can surely go on forever^infinity)
I love being me.I hate being me.But never for a moment i stop being me.
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