Saturday, 23 February 2013

I want to...

... do lots of things in life. Be awesome. Travel. Everything that everyone wants to do. Yes, I do. 

I am beginning to understand that it is perfectly acceptable to desire things that everyone desires. It is basic human tendency to say the least and is in no way shallow or reflective of a grave lack of originality or the inability to dream differently.

I am increasingly convinced of the fact that the real differentiator is the doing. Ideas, innovative thought, divergent thinking is all great. 
All of it, however, is nothing if not translated into a tangible reality by someone.  

After all those relentless, classic Rationalism v/s Empiricism debates in the English Literature classrooms, I think this post is my first step towards taking sides. Taking sides, yes. Finally choosing to be one side over the other. It is in a lot of ways, the toughest thing to do for someone like me. 

Someone like me? The typical non-allegiant, passive, critical-of-everything-appreciative-of-nearly-nothing, fearful-of-judgement, not-actively-passionate-about-much kind of person. You know what exactly the kind am talking about. And I think this realisation that the power of action often exceeds that of ideas makes me a little less of this despicable character that I just described.

I have thought about how such a personality came into being in the first place. Yes, I have tried hard to trace what possible excuses I can use to justify the inactive bum that I am. 

My thoughts have led me from Family to School to City to People to Country - ah, Country! I found an uncanny reflection of my own personality in my country's. India - the country perpetually accused of not having a spine when it came to International Relations, constantly rebuked for not being confident in the development of its internal policy and criticized amply for its erratic execution and administration. Wham! I hadn't felt more shamefully patriotic in the 21 years of my existence. 
(I lie, though. I had this realisation much earlier in life.)

However, I shall NOT make this post about the sedentary person I am tired of being. But I might speak about how we are very different from America in the various ways we function and that has a lot to do with what their state has come out top be and what ours is today. Fortunately for you (yes, non-existent reader you), that shall come in another post.

I saw something today that made me realise how much more I want to do - how much more I wish to walk, run, travel, feel, smell, hurt, smile, cry, laugh and tire. And once I am done, start something new altogether. 

And coming back to my primary point again here - experiencing things in the mind is something quite unique and desirable in its own right. But the splendour that real physical experience offers is second to none.

Tuesday, 17 April 2012

Feeling cold in the Month of May

I'm feeling cold in the Month of May
as you bedazzle my sightless range.
When broken limbs just wish to play,
when safety anchors the deranged.

I'm finding a plane in a valley uneven,
for they call what they wish to May.
My December is warm, if you believe in
standing straight in a world turvy in it's way.

Feeling cold in the Month of May
Blood flowing bold in immaculate play.



Sunday, 15 April 2012

Of Yummy Cakes and Irresistible Pastries

Cake is an easy, familiar band from the looks of it. Music like a plain, likable chocolate icing top. But the lyrics come like the surprise nutty filling. Mildly unexpected, but not unwanted at all!
They've clearly done a good job of choosing a name for themselves. Intriguing, evoking a sense of irresistible desire to bite in. And ultimately, we experience the work of a good bakery. (Okay, that was a shameful metaphor. Stop reading my blog. Wonder why you even come here - it isn't even titled anything remotely close to a confectionery item.)

But it isn't just Cake that's hard to keep my senses away from. One million distractions. Dancing in front of my eyes. Exploring good music, finding meaning it, reading about movies, watching others, relentless virtual  chatting with acquaintances, inappropriately commending myself for my social skills after, daydreaming about boys, dreaming about boys as boyfriends, waking up to tell myself how disgusting that is, subsequently attempting to decode those dreams with some broken knowledge of psychoanalysis, thinking of all the unfinished assignments, thinking of identity and it's formation, browsing through the papers, contemplating India's future, convincing myself Communism is an impossibility - OH, it does not stop!

Anyway, it's now about 1:30am. The long, unproductive day is finally over. And then sets in an unparallelled feeling of guilt and remorse.

 "What am I doing to my life?"

Corrective measures, please!

Very self-righteously, googling 'How to Focus' and everything seems to be fine, fine, fine.
*Insert divine music and peaceful white clouds and the assurance of a faint, white, old figure.*

Oh, Redemption!

TOMORROW shall be different. Tomorrow,  I will do these breathing exercises, I will stay away from all distractions, I will NOT stalk that boy and all the others on Facebook. Tomorrow, I will not go back to marathon sessions of those silly TV series. Oh, how could I even be this stupid? Everything seems to make sense now!

Oh come on, we all know how yesterday is going to be!

Aah, priceless mediocrity and the quaint pleasures of giving into shallow desires.