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.
Thursday, August 27, 2009
Dreaming As I Blog,Blogging As I Dream.
I feel an urge to write.
Having freed myself from the mightiest hindrance of them all;the expectation to write something worthwhile and praiseworthy;i feel free as a reindeer in an empty forest..a bird floating in the sky..its so liberating,unburdening yourself from all those crazy expectation you develop of yourself in those unconscious brush with greatness you have in those great books,quality movies,amazing people you at times bump into.Why,i can be downright silly for all i care.By trying not to be,aint i actually sillier?
I have gotten rid of the other major block too:A plot,a topic or a theme to write on.Well,i really never need a reason to write!I write when i feel like.No plot?All the better.
I am in a mood to celebrate my limitations.My mediocrity.Why do i expect greatness when what i have been shown again and again is this life..where i happen to be a regular guy with regular strengths and the usual weaknesses.I have a charming life as well,if only i unburden it from all the mighty dreams i have been placing one atop another upon myself.Why not be just another Jack..
Escape?Is it?From what?Blind expectations,right?Is it that bad?Not every soul is lit with the immortal flame.Or if it is,it doesnt really chose to manifest itself in all of them.Or we would have had an unbearably hot world.Its not.Its a calm place.W have our divisons.We have those who go up and deliver a soul-stirring speech.And we have the others whose souls are stirred.Both are essential.Thats how the world is balanced..A very very small majority of those who recieve,and an abundance of those who clap.It took me quite sometime to discover..clapping has its own pleasures.And poisoning my life at the prospects of future anonymity is wasting what little i do have.Positive,sickeningly sweet thoughts.But sweetness lasts.The Metal n The Grunge ..D rebellion and d Bohemian way..true,they are cool..they are different,so they gotta be cool.Have pizza once a month and it would appear cooked in heaven.Have it everday and you would be sick of the same heavenly taste.Thats it.The answers are all there before me.Thoughts are often futile,i am well aware of that.They have a tendency of going round in circles and leaving you where you started.Even behind where you started at times.But what i think at the moment makes me feel healthy.It gives me hope.And it makes me cheerful.
Come to think of it the whole human race,with their discoveries and there advancement,is all futile.We spend a couple of century building a spaceship that can reach the moon whereas for light,its merely a sneeze to do so.How futile it all is.The marvelous discoveries that have made life so much more comfortable are futile when one looks from the perspective that life itself hardly makes much sense.My act of writing this,thinking about it..is it not futile?
But amidst this sea of futility,we are alive.We have our joys and our sorrows.Our mundane and eventful days.Our births,loves and deaths.Amidst this very futility is meaning.Life.
Coming back to my life.My dreams.
I had this idea as i was writing my previous blog entry.I have dreamt while sitting,walking,eating,studying(ah...)..why not dreaming as i type an entry on my blog?Why not record it in printed words what normally comes as non-physical thoughts and visions?Making d spiritual physical..quite a motivation!
I dream of perfection mostly.I have a mental idea of who i would like to be..and i have this narcissistic tendency to see myself most of the time,living as i would ideally want me to.
One of my major dreams is seeing myself attain the utmost good health.Not quite unrealistic this particular dream though.I am young,its the peak of my youth.I aint gonna be any more youthful again!I see myself attaining the physique of one of those mythological gods of Greece..of Atlas,or Achilles.David.I see myself like that,looking absolutely graceful..i feel my health and it gives me a wonderful sense of well being..An inner strength to take on the mightiest hurdles.The wild streak in me comes alive with these thoughts too..The stares i would get,the hearts i would win solely through my smouldering good looks!Good looking guys have a blast..i quite know that.A walk on the street is all they need to get that ego-boost.And health is an undeniable accessory to good looks.I feel happy having been born with a decent ..well..frame?I look alryt..and there are tempting possibilities of what i can make myself with proper grooming.
With all that talk,,one would get the impression i might be a thing to behold.Its absolutely otherwise.Give o take a few pics of mine,i loathe the way i look in most others.And the loathing reached higher level when i realise how i could have made it d eact opposite by a little effort.
Nonetheless..moving to my other major mental preoccupations.My future.
My dreams in this category have undergone a sea of change evr since i entered university.Earlier i would dream of being this bigshot scientist with a flair for scientific investigations.And an amateur writer at the same time.I had this nice wholesome dream almost all my school life.And then i entered university.And it all went for a toss!
Not that i entered the wrong department.Pharmaceutical Technology.The very place you can naturaly mould yourself into a absent minded chemist..a drug designer..designing molecules that save life.Lofty words!But what a waste.What a sheer waste.I have a thousand blames.My teachers in the university are at d end of most of them.They have been the most demotivating people i ever encountered.Rather than inspiring,they ended up sucking my spirit of enquiry,of discovery.But i am not to be spared as well..i could very well have been my own motivation.But i swayed.I did.And hence..a litter of unfinished dreams sorround me.
Looking at it positively,its mighty probable i never had the required aptitude..the patience!Tht surely makes me feel better about myself!And the..there still is hope.Not a scientist,true..but all's not lost.I can still be a writer.A mediocre,little known one,but a writer!what pride the name carries!
And anyways..its never too late.But really..can i still be a scientist?I have a plan..where i end up learning the worthwhile things and keeping them in my head forever..but i have more or less,given up my dreams of pursuing proper science any further.Have had an unsatisfactory university life when it comes to academics.True,my intentions were totally different.But life has shown me the unexpected.I protest,but does that really change anything?
I have set my dreamy eyes on entering the world of Management now.Its as much backed by passion as by need though.I dont have too many other options.And my other,yet undisclosed dreams,require me to earn a decent living.However,in management,i intend to do what i coudn't with the science of Pharmacy.I would offer it my complete devotion.This is dreamland,mind you.I am not sure of the reality..but i am sure that only the dreams materialize,like my thought here are materializing into words.I would most probably do a Ph.D once i complete my MBA..partly because it will enable me to pursue my passion for teaching as a profession.And partly because i want to attain a respectable stature in life.I dont know if the world of Business..with its cut-throat competition and sometimes,brutal acts of immorality would be the right one for me.I am not naturally very active.I hate this,but as of yet,this is what the truth has been.I read once maybe in Anne of The Green Gables or some such story..where the protagonist,who's a kid,hates being in bed for too long.And with the first ray of sunlight,is off to her mischiefs .I ..umm..havent really been like that.i love,absolutely love sleeping.Most of my marijuana,i get there!I wonder how effective thus i would be in the corporate world..though my creative take on things would sure make some difference..yet,as for now,the thought of having a peaceful,even paced existence appeals to me.Ofcourse,i would compensate my escaping the corporate pressures by being a hyperactive teacher.And a dedicated social worker.And i would have my evening of black coffee and half-baked plots,ofcourse!
I have about 3 months in my hand to realise his particular dream though.And i am ill-prepared.I remember in the final year of my schooldays,my similar experience about trying to make it through a reputed engineering college.It didnt really materialize,and i had the satisfaction of blaming it on my lone-fighter state.But thats more or less a lame excuse.Professional coaching doesnt really give you a potion of brilliance.you do it with your own hardwork.U walk that extra mile.You take those extra two push-ups.I did my share too.But never the extra push ups.or even it there were some,they were few and too far between.This time though,i want to make it different.I get this image of Tyler Durden in my mind..being beaten to a pulp,but with spirit unwavered.I want to be that sure of myself.That desperate.That confident.That mad.
I guess i would rather pass on the rest to my next post now.My fingers ache.So would my eye if i would someday read this!
Having freed myself from the mightiest hindrance of them all;the expectation to write something worthwhile and praiseworthy;i feel free as a reindeer in an empty forest..a bird floating in the sky..its so liberating,unburdening yourself from all those crazy expectation you develop of yourself in those unconscious brush with greatness you have in those great books,quality movies,amazing people you at times bump into.Why,i can be downright silly for all i care.By trying not to be,aint i actually sillier?
I have gotten rid of the other major block too:A plot,a topic or a theme to write on.Well,i really never need a reason to write!I write when i feel like.No plot?All the better.
I am in a mood to celebrate my limitations.My mediocrity.Why do i expect greatness when what i have been shown again and again is this life..where i happen to be a regular guy with regular strengths and the usual weaknesses.I have a charming life as well,if only i unburden it from all the mighty dreams i have been placing one atop another upon myself.Why not be just another Jack..
Escape?Is it?From what?Blind expectations,right?Is it that bad?Not every soul is lit with the immortal flame.Or if it is,it doesnt really chose to manifest itself in all of them.Or we would have had an unbearably hot world.Its not.Its a calm place.W have our divisons.We have those who go up and deliver a soul-stirring speech.And we have the others whose souls are stirred.Both are essential.Thats how the world is balanced..A very very small majority of those who recieve,and an abundance of those who clap.It took me quite sometime to discover..clapping has its own pleasures.And poisoning my life at the prospects of future anonymity is wasting what little i do have.Positive,sickeningly sweet thoughts.But sweetness lasts.The Metal n The Grunge ..D rebellion and d Bohemian way..true,they are cool..they are different,so they gotta be cool.Have pizza once a month and it would appear cooked in heaven.Have it everday and you would be sick of the same heavenly taste.Thats it.The answers are all there before me.Thoughts are often futile,i am well aware of that.They have a tendency of going round in circles and leaving you where you started.Even behind where you started at times.But what i think at the moment makes me feel healthy.It gives me hope.And it makes me cheerful.
Come to think of it the whole human race,with their discoveries and there advancement,is all futile.We spend a couple of century building a spaceship that can reach the moon whereas for light,its merely a sneeze to do so.How futile it all is.The marvelous discoveries that have made life so much more comfortable are futile when one looks from the perspective that life itself hardly makes much sense.My act of writing this,thinking about it..is it not futile?
But amidst this sea of futility,we are alive.We have our joys and our sorrows.Our mundane and eventful days.Our births,loves and deaths.Amidst this very futility is meaning.Life.
Coming back to my life.My dreams.
I had this idea as i was writing my previous blog entry.I have dreamt while sitting,walking,eating,studying(ah...)..why not dreaming as i type an entry on my blog?Why not record it in printed words what normally comes as non-physical thoughts and visions?Making d spiritual physical..quite a motivation!
I dream of perfection mostly.I have a mental idea of who i would like to be..and i have this narcissistic tendency to see myself most of the time,living as i would ideally want me to.
One of my major dreams is seeing myself attain the utmost good health.Not quite unrealistic this particular dream though.I am young,its the peak of my youth.I aint gonna be any more youthful again!I see myself attaining the physique of one of those mythological gods of Greece..of Atlas,or Achilles.David.I see myself like that,looking absolutely graceful..i feel my health and it gives me a wonderful sense of well being..An inner strength to take on the mightiest hurdles.The wild streak in me comes alive with these thoughts too..The stares i would get,the hearts i would win solely through my smouldering good looks!Good looking guys have a blast..i quite know that.A walk on the street is all they need to get that ego-boost.And health is an undeniable accessory to good looks.I feel happy having been born with a decent ..well..frame?I look alryt..and there are tempting possibilities of what i can make myself with proper grooming.
With all that talk,,one would get the impression i might be a thing to behold.Its absolutely otherwise.Give o take a few pics of mine,i loathe the way i look in most others.And the loathing reached higher level when i realise how i could have made it d eact opposite by a little effort.
Nonetheless..moving to my other major mental preoccupations.My future.
My dreams in this category have undergone a sea of change evr since i entered university.Earlier i would dream of being this bigshot scientist with a flair for scientific investigations.And an amateur writer at the same time.I had this nice wholesome dream almost all my school life.And then i entered university.And it all went for a toss!
Not that i entered the wrong department.Pharmaceutical Technology.The very place you can naturaly mould yourself into a absent minded chemist..a drug designer..designing molecules that save life.Lofty words!But what a waste.What a sheer waste.I have a thousand blames.My teachers in the university are at d end of most of them.They have been the most demotivating people i ever encountered.Rather than inspiring,they ended up sucking my spirit of enquiry,of discovery.But i am not to be spared as well..i could very well have been my own motivation.But i swayed.I did.And hence..a litter of unfinished dreams sorround me.
Looking at it positively,its mighty probable i never had the required aptitude..the patience!Tht surely makes me feel better about myself!And the..there still is hope.Not a scientist,true..but all's not lost.I can still be a writer.A mediocre,little known one,but a writer!what pride the name carries!
And anyways..its never too late.But really..can i still be a scientist?I have a plan..where i end up learning the worthwhile things and keeping them in my head forever..but i have more or less,given up my dreams of pursuing proper science any further.Have had an unsatisfactory university life when it comes to academics.True,my intentions were totally different.But life has shown me the unexpected.I protest,but does that really change anything?
I have set my dreamy eyes on entering the world of Management now.Its as much backed by passion as by need though.I dont have too many other options.And my other,yet undisclosed dreams,require me to earn a decent living.However,in management,i intend to do what i coudn't with the science of Pharmacy.I would offer it my complete devotion.This is dreamland,mind you.I am not sure of the reality..but i am sure that only the dreams materialize,like my thought here are materializing into words.I would most probably do a Ph.D once i complete my MBA..partly because it will enable me to pursue my passion for teaching as a profession.And partly because i want to attain a respectable stature in life.I dont know if the world of Business..with its cut-throat competition and sometimes,brutal acts of immorality would be the right one for me.I am not naturally very active.I hate this,but as of yet,this is what the truth has been.I read once maybe in Anne of The Green Gables or some such story..where the protagonist,who's a kid,hates being in bed for too long.And with the first ray of sunlight,is off to her mischiefs .I ..umm..havent really been like that.i love,absolutely love sleeping.Most of my marijuana,i get there!I wonder how effective thus i would be in the corporate world..though my creative take on things would sure make some difference..yet,as for now,the thought of having a peaceful,even paced existence appeals to me.Ofcourse,i would compensate my escaping the corporate pressures by being a hyperactive teacher.And a dedicated social worker.And i would have my evening of black coffee and half-baked plots,ofcourse!
I have about 3 months in my hand to realise his particular dream though.And i am ill-prepared.I remember in the final year of my schooldays,my similar experience about trying to make it through a reputed engineering college.It didnt really materialize,and i had the satisfaction of blaming it on my lone-fighter state.But thats more or less a lame excuse.Professional coaching doesnt really give you a potion of brilliance.you do it with your own hardwork.U walk that extra mile.You take those extra two push-ups.I did my share too.But never the extra push ups.or even it there were some,they were few and too far between.This time though,i want to make it different.I get this image of Tyler Durden in my mind..being beaten to a pulp,but with spirit unwavered.I want to be that sure of myself.That desperate.That confident.That mad.
I guess i would rather pass on the rest to my next post now.My fingers ache.So would my eye if i would someday read this!
Why I Do What I Do.
I get amazed all the time with my own activities,or at times,the lack of them.
Basically,i am not a complete psycho.And i little madness is in everyone,that i have no doubt about.But the 'little' madness,that's in me,is something i really wish to comprehend one of these days.Why do i have to do those crazy things i keep doing?
However,just for the record,before delving into the Why's..let me get to the What's.
The crazy things i am talking about isn't really adrenaline related.Its often quite boring.Like sitting all day before the pc,doing and thinking particularly nothing where i can furiously work on the something fruitful.The fretting over my creative limitations while the very act of doing so is a sheer wastage of my creative energy.I wont study before exams at times..i would let the hours pass by,savouring the minutes,the seconds passing by.Almost relishing their taste.
I would dream..of nice,big noble things..how i would help everyone around me,or how i would be this dedicated scholar..this effective person who's capable of doing it all;with grace and ease.
I wonder why..with my noble intentions,ability to see things as they stand,my position in life which demands immense activity and leadership from me,do i let it all take a backseat as i float in my fantasies..writing my invisible books,making my mental movies,thinking of thinking of a revolutionary new thought.Come to think of it,my thoughts are seldom negative.Infact,most often,they are daringly positive.So why would i not act on them?What makes me not see the absurdity of it?And when i am aware of my absurdity,why dont i act against it?
Throughout my study life,i have seen life giving me a large number of oppurtunites.My repeated failures do not really exhaust the great expectations life has of me i guess!Even as i write this,i have been placed in a place from where i can attain lofty heights.Given my track record,i dont believe i would really utilise it though.
This leaves me in a trauma though.With a feeling of burning hatred towards my own self.I get sick of it..and tired of it.But the whole point is,i have to live with it.And with a new day,i have new hopes.New dreams.Dreams worth fighting the sick sensation with.
I believe,someday,soon enough,i would be what i want to be.With all my limitations and imperfections,i would still reach there.For i have seen enough in life to know its never really too late.Life doesnt hate you back no matter how much you insult it,misuse it.These are times when i feel there's gotta be an entity called God.True,God for some really stupid reasons isnt perfect when he can so easily chose to be.But he isnt depressing enough to be completely despised at the same time.
Basically,i am not a complete psycho.And i little madness is in everyone,that i have no doubt about.But the 'little' madness,that's in me,is something i really wish to comprehend one of these days.Why do i have to do those crazy things i keep doing?
However,just for the record,before delving into the Why's..let me get to the What's.
The crazy things i am talking about isn't really adrenaline related.Its often quite boring.Like sitting all day before the pc,doing and thinking particularly nothing where i can furiously work on the something fruitful.The fretting over my creative limitations while the very act of doing so is a sheer wastage of my creative energy.I wont study before exams at times..i would let the hours pass by,savouring the minutes,the seconds passing by.Almost relishing their taste.
I would dream..of nice,big noble things..how i would help everyone around me,or how i would be this dedicated scholar..this effective person who's capable of doing it all;with grace and ease.
I wonder why..with my noble intentions,ability to see things as they stand,my position in life which demands immense activity and leadership from me,do i let it all take a backseat as i float in my fantasies..writing my invisible books,making my mental movies,thinking of thinking of a revolutionary new thought.Come to think of it,my thoughts are seldom negative.Infact,most often,they are daringly positive.So why would i not act on them?What makes me not see the absurdity of it?And when i am aware of my absurdity,why dont i act against it?
Throughout my study life,i have seen life giving me a large number of oppurtunites.My repeated failures do not really exhaust the great expectations life has of me i guess!Even as i write this,i have been placed in a place from where i can attain lofty heights.Given my track record,i dont believe i would really utilise it though.
This leaves me in a trauma though.With a feeling of burning hatred towards my own self.I get sick of it..and tired of it.But the whole point is,i have to live with it.And with a new day,i have new hopes.New dreams.Dreams worth fighting the sick sensation with.
I believe,someday,soon enough,i would be what i want to be.With all my limitations and imperfections,i would still reach there.For i have seen enough in life to know its never really too late.Life doesnt hate you back no matter how much you insult it,misuse it.These are times when i feel there's gotta be an entity called God.True,God for some really stupid reasons isnt perfect when he can so easily chose to be.But he isnt depressing enough to be completely despised at the same time.
Making Sense Of Things...
I see that 10 years from now,i would be very different from who i am at the moment..just as a decade ago i was not quite what i am at d moment.Funny how we have just a handful of decades to play around with..and all of them uncertain.
I was thus thinking..when it came to me that i would be so different in the future..i would hardly know me,my present life.if not that,then surely my present way of thinking,my present struggles..at d moment i have such a faint memory of the battle i used to wage every month with my maths paper in school..defeat,continuous and humiliating..do i feel the humiliation now?Not quite.Do i remember the grit with which i would fight though..the lone warrior?Those fights made me who i am today..they all contribute,the small n insignificant feelings..nothing is really in vain.Thinking of them brings back memories..but i am not flooded..they are tiny droplets trickling down,without the emotion they once carried.
So i have decided to note down certain of my beliefs and convictions here,in d warm anonymity of cyberspace.Why i think,or have been of the belief,most of my present youth,that my life is my marijuana..
I have never had weed.But i do know,or atleast i think i know how it must feel like.For thats exactly how i believe life has made me see itself unfold:my view has been the misty eyed view of a trainspotter..i knew it when i saw Ewan Mcgregor as Renton in Trainspotting..Or the in- need-of-weed guy In Requiem For A Dream and a dozen movies of such breed..They have my kinda eyes..they look like me when they take the shot..or i look,or at least feel like them when i get a shot from my life.Its a heady thing.Numbness..a faint realization of reality,though a more solid feeling of the universe hugging me..telling me to let go..fantasies taking solid shape.And all the time..the painful realization that i am being left behind in the race of sober people.Dreamless people.Mechanical people.Real People.
And though i do not really want it to,but its that very feeling that gives me the biggest kick.
I was thus thinking..when it came to me that i would be so different in the future..i would hardly know me,my present life.if not that,then surely my present way of thinking,my present struggles..at d moment i have such a faint memory of the battle i used to wage every month with my maths paper in school..defeat,continuous and humiliating..do i feel the humiliation now?Not quite.Do i remember the grit with which i would fight though..the lone warrior?Those fights made me who i am today..they all contribute,the small n insignificant feelings..nothing is really in vain.Thinking of them brings back memories..but i am not flooded..they are tiny droplets trickling down,without the emotion they once carried.
So i have decided to note down certain of my beliefs and convictions here,in d warm anonymity of cyberspace.Why i think,or have been of the belief,most of my present youth,that my life is my marijuana..
I have never had weed.But i do know,or atleast i think i know how it must feel like.For thats exactly how i believe life has made me see itself unfold:my view has been the misty eyed view of a trainspotter..i knew it when i saw Ewan Mcgregor as Renton in Trainspotting..Or the in- need-of-weed guy In Requiem For A Dream and a dozen movies of such breed..They have my kinda eyes..they look like me when they take the shot..or i look,or at least feel like them when i get a shot from my life.Its a heady thing.Numbness..a faint realization of reality,though a more solid feeling of the universe hugging me..telling me to let go..fantasies taking solid shape.And all the time..the painful realization that i am being left behind in the race of sober people.Dreamless people.Mechanical people.Real People.
And though i do not really want it to,but its that very feeling that gives me the biggest kick.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Initial Jitters...
So am finally blogging.
Pretty scary,the actual process though.D idea seemed pretty easy at first...just sit back and write up whatever comes to mind.But there's something with the process of sitting before a PC,facing d monitor-back straight,hands on keyboard,eyes fixed on screen..that when u go:'Ok,mind..shoot good stuff now..' U almost have this sensation of being a Jockey..or an athlete at the starting line...and d gun goes off and u run..in this case..ur thoughts run..words come pouring in..flashes of ideas,snippets of daily life..n it comes faster n faster..getting all blurry n overlapped... and ur fingers dont seem to catch up,yet you type on..
..and then,a jolt:Damn..somebody myt stuble upon this..go through it all...form opinions...get to see my inner world..A part of you says..well..this is what it is supposed to be..An open diary..infact blog's a therapy for your introverted soul..Let the whole world be a witness to your thoughts..to your life..no matter how insignificant they are..no matter how uninteresting they are..you are here,so lets leave a sign..it may be d most obscure and utterly forgotteable,but it will,nonetheless,give you the satisfaction of having been brave enough to make one.
And there's d other part..which knows he's wrong..guilty infact..and he stays silent..no fighting back with words for him.He silently slips ,in almost inudible steps,into melancholy..and the loud,vibrant being starts melting in the bluish bile..protesting,yet powerless before the silent might of d consuming fluid.
And then..u no longer know wht is it that is worth writing..u no longer can think of anything that will live upto your idea of a first blog..
and with a sigh..u say...
later.
Pretty scary,the actual process though.D idea seemed pretty easy at first...just sit back and write up whatever comes to mind.But there's something with the process of sitting before a PC,facing d monitor-back straight,hands on keyboard,eyes fixed on screen..that when u go:'Ok,mind..shoot good stuff now..' U almost have this sensation of being a Jockey..or an athlete at the starting line...and d gun goes off and u run..in this case..ur thoughts run..words come pouring in..flashes of ideas,snippets of daily life..n it comes faster n faster..getting all blurry n overlapped... and ur fingers dont seem to catch up,yet you type on..
..and then,a jolt:Damn..somebody myt stuble upon this..go through it all...form opinions...get to see my inner world..A part of you says..well..this is what it is supposed to be..An open diary..infact blog's a therapy for your introverted soul..Let the whole world be a witness to your thoughts..to your life..no matter how insignificant they are..no matter how uninteresting they are..you are here,so lets leave a sign..it may be d most obscure and utterly forgotteable,but it will,nonetheless,give you the satisfaction of having been brave enough to make one.
And there's d other part..which knows he's wrong..guilty infact..and he stays silent..no fighting back with words for him.He silently slips ,in almost inudible steps,into melancholy..and the loud,vibrant being starts melting in the bluish bile..protesting,yet powerless before the silent might of d consuming fluid.
And then..u no longer know wht is it that is worth writing..u no longer can think of anything that will live upto your idea of a first blog..
and with a sigh..u say...
later.
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