Change The Calendar

Resolutions have always been a part of the traditional way to begin a new year. So many resolutions and so many regrets at the end of the year for broken promises... just like the guilt trips we take in life itself. Promises! like marriage itself is and experience... some manage to keep and for others it is only an experience... slightly empty.

However, there is one resolution that I take year after year after year and that is to not change one bit. Too complacent I suppose. If thats the way to be that way be it. Period!

Yesterday I just sent across one paper presented in Gujarat for publishing after it got selected for the same and I was happy that a paper got presented and later published at the international circuit... however, then pops 3 reminders for 3 more papers to be done. Arun needs his modules and she needs her research outline... all these elementary yet when you are obsessed with perfection every little thing takes time. Its like eating out at a fast food and choosing fine dining... the difference being 'class'.

o.k now I have to go to the beach house... supposed to be a family get together at the beach. Maybe I can get my workout there... oh! was that a secret resolution?!

Bottomline: Every new year one celebrates, be it a birthday or the change of a calendar, is just a reminder that one is moving a step closer to the grave.

Again?!

Tomorrow I am going about doing what I promised myself I would never do... one more thing, one more time and one more broken promise to myself. Why is it that I do not respect the promises I make to myself as much as I respect the promises I make others?! Duh! O.K... I am doing the road trip again... the trip that brought forth the deadliest hours of loneliness in the 24hr straight drive last time I drove from k.k to this magnificiently transcluent, carbon- free, pests-infested abode of mine.

This time it bothers me as I am going to my place for a long time. Almost 20 days to be precise and it fucking bothers me. Can't be in that place for more than 3 days and will I survive the thresh?! Already I have plans to be everywhere and attempt thus to be nowhere and I am all messed up and just want to ride all this distance... actually I am getting the road maps. It took me 24hours last time and this time I want to make it in 14. Its a mental challenge yet want to try.

The roads are long and it will be dark when I would be even half way through and honestly... I do not know the route and at night who the fuck is going to be up to show me directions?! yet it move... will move. Arun's Vantage is to be inauguarated and he wants me there... just got the invitation. Didn't like the logo that much as its got a nike symbol in the 't' and it made me feel a little villagish... however, nike is a Greek God for victory and I digested the disbelief thus.

It was nice of him to call his Grandmother to light the lamp and he has some how managed to get all the big shots in. Pretty good! However, I miss Marcus and I want to spend some time with him. There are people I want to meet... only for a while and many I don't want to come across. God give me the strength to bear them or legalize killing...

Bottomline: Wish someone was besides...

The Turmoil of Truth

Education hardly solves any issue... infact it only doubles it. Often we learn that somethings are supposed to work in a particular way and if doesn't, there is another theory to explain why it didn't. Unlearning is mastery of a paradox; an unlimited scope to revisit and reflect upon experience.

The strangest myths are often unpredictably broken by silence when an erupting soul refuses to accept lies that hovers over the surface refusing to let it emerge. The mythically plundering soul however, rests sleeplessly between the unknown faith lying helplessly, brooding over an illusion of clouded reality and truth-which is always lies told the way you wish others to know... from all these emerges the thought of breaking free. Breaking free for once. Breaking free from fake unrealities and misguiding principles that entwine over morale and values conveniently twisted. Breaking free for once before we die.

What is the truth we hold? What are the lies we dispell? What is the genuiness of the justice mystified? What is the need for all the pomp and luxury?

This is when class steps in to show that most of the complications can be done away with if and only if the desire to manifest the self surrounded with objects unknown to show the difference can be negated by adopting to nothingness and live sans difficulty, with ease as if nothing is required... nothingness completes and that is the beginning and so is the end. The turmoil of loss is managed more by class than by experience.

Bottomline: “Three things cannot be long hidden: the sun, the moon, and the truth.”-Buddha

Whats Happening?!...

There has always been emerging conflicts that have shaken me at the roots... however, the recent one faced unlike any other time, involves too many people and along comes the emotions they carry, they only know.

The most interesting things in life is not the picture of a completed kiss yet a kiss that is yet to touch the lover's lips... the tension of the connection and the pandora's box that opens around it contemplating the impossibilities that surround it as well.

How ruining situations around us can be! Duh! Life is sometimes too strenuous to live on the ground. The 6-feet-down under seems more inviting. At times just perishing sans trace is more welcoming too. The perfect death seems too boring at the moment... there can be no better way to die than die like it was an endeavour worth looking forward too.

Thanatos is a drive that makes people accomplish something and that drive seems to be driving me at the moment. The eros is blatant... even eros seems to be crowded by thanatos. Feel like playing the Rudra Veena with every vein splurging out the blood in its deepest red... drip by drip dripping the blood, slitting the veins, splitting the nerves and splashing and giving around all the skin, all the flesh and all the blood the world wants to suck out of you... for them to splurge... let them splurge. There is nothing they can take when it is all that I want and have to give...

The eventful match, the unexpected twists and the acknowledged turns... the mythical mysteries nothing too profound yet the vulnerability of the soul too often optimized for the profit of others than my very own. Its ideal to give in to the temptation of others that need to be fulfilled rather than have a dream of my very own. Dreams are too expensive just as anger is a luxury... the dreamer rests and anger triumphs again... yet again... this time more subtle and coiling for the strike than for pensive solace.

Bottomline: Truth be it that I am offended...

Turn After Turn

Things are taking an interesting turn during the recent past that can be written in to the most beautiful book that often emerges out of the author's grave. Assault to my soul and the need for sublime acceptance of whats happening and keeping them all under subtle cover, hiding beneath a turmoil of self-rendered torture... know what,... I can keep going on like a writer in full swing yet I chose to retain my calm and maintain that highly beneficial silence at the moment for the best interest of all; lest i sway.

Can kill a Man only once... right? Can't kill a dead Man over and over again... right? Then if I may ask, 'if Lord it is not mine and was never meant to be, then why and from where this desire?...'

Somehow, the way of punishing is so different in the hands of the good God above. It just not scars the mind yet also kills the soul. This is even harder when you have to live to see yourself die.

Bottomline: However, life is such and such is life... so be it...

The Coiling Female Sexuality

Today I read a passage from a book on female sexuality and it was quite interesting. A woman has written about trans-sexual energy and the coitus that follows... the path she has to take and the past she has to let go before experiencing the shiverring, spine chilling experience of an orgasm so very inhuman. There is the mentioning of a energy wave that flows and fills the room, noticable by everyone and predictably to everyone's envy. The experience she claims, is very trans sexual and extremely spiritual making 'SEX' a Sacred-EXpression of love. It struck a chord in me as I am someone who believes in the energy as well.

After the spiritual experience where the woMan feels like a goddess before, during and after making love, she tries to have sex as mortals do and finds the experience unworthy-both for her partner as well as herself. Struck a chord again. However, what is this energy that overwhelms some, unknown to plenty? Is it an experience describable? or should it be left in the realms of 'thathuvumasi'?

Its a spiritual search to connect I believe. The trinity that connects... truth, love and simplicity. The mutual bond that is created, realized and celebrated. The energy that moves with every wave of the body, the body itself moving and arching like a snake-a snake in perfect motion, coiling with a flow, a humble submission than a learnt feeling of frantic humiliation. The offering of complete vulnerability. The beauty of surrendering the soul with no barriers or shame. The emergence of a rekindled soul, glowing with an experience of an enlightened height of ecstacy and euphoria.

The wild passion mixed with the comfort of space and time. The truth that everyone begs to find and the love that most would live or die for, in the simple embrace of the lover. She becomes her and she becomes him.

Bottomline: Very few are rendered to see the collision of the moon and the sun

Whats Happening?!

This week in class was a wonderful experience with a lot of showering questions... some are as follows:

Sexwork is still not legalized in India and it is an offence under IPC if prostitution is carried on. How come Police do not take any action on NGOs who work for the welfare of WIPs? Aren't the NGOs inderectly supporting something illegal and aren't the Police not doing their duty?

Which Ministry or Department in GOI will take responsibility in legalizing or licensing sex as a trade just as they have done in Thailand, Amsterdam etc., as has been asked for for a very long time?

If a group of wandering children were called 'Harijans' a.k.a 'children of God' by Gandhiji as they were children who did not have an identity and claimed to be so being born of a Devadassi and a Temple Priest (a Brahmin) and later referred to as 'Dalits; by Dr. B.R.A and now categorized under SC/ST by the Constitution are being treated as 'the untouchables' by the very own Brahmins who seeded them, isn't that ironical?!

If some of the people in the existing caste system in India feel that it is wrong to touch or come in contact with some people who they claim to be 'untouchables' and they refrain to a safe distance from human contact, who are the real 'untouchables'?! Wouldn't that name better suit the ones who refuse to be touched?

In a Welfare State like India, how is it that in states like Tamil Nadu, Education is privatized and the sale of alcohol is the Government's job?!

When we worry about racism happening abroad, why don't we do anything about the existing casteism within?

Why is there a system of multiple taxation in India?

Why is there a system of multiple Government in India?

Bottomline: Why is India yet to shine?!

A fool in Love

There are times when the mind is galloping at a pace that your body cant catch up to and vice versa... probably because there is no tryst or rather the mission is endured sans the soul. However, this is the state I am in and perhaps remain par contra. Something seems missing and something seems out of place; either its me or easier to blame the tryst or nevertheless-the absence of the trinity.

Long time ago a wise sage once told me that it would never be possible for a woman to reach godliness as their aspirations are grounded in a vain attempt to match Men who they wish to match upto; when Men on the other hand have nothing to compare themselves to and are on their path towards spirituality. Made sense as why at an older age, some Men rest in peace amidst aspiring, tantrum-throwing bourgeois women of their own age.

All that woman wants is wants. Want after want after another want... and all that a Man wants is a woman... and along comes with that package-the need to shoulder all her wants and cribbing and nagging till one want is fullfilled after the other.

Yesterday, somewhere around midnight, I was awakened by a sudden-unexpected visitor, one of my friends, who recently "fell in love" with one of the chicks around. This guy thought ('thought' being underlined and emphasized) that life was easy for him now once agin thinking that he found his soul mate atlast. As usual I was looking for that illusion to shatter. Often that nagging and 'where are you?', 'who are you with?', 'when will you be back?', 'why so long?', 'what are you doing?','why do you have a dog?', 'why can't you kill your mother?'... blah, blah, blah and blah, blah, blah... sort of nagging that every woman resorts to started and I knew the ditch near the bitch was near!

These crazy females can never learn to shut their mouth. Think they never taught them to do that in their planet. Maybe thats why they need to be fed with something all the time to keep their dirty, big, squandering, moth-infested, halitosis-spreading disgusting mouths shut.

Then suddenly when this guy came in, he had a long face. He came in with an SOS. This cranky slut had sent him an SMS giving him an idea that her image would be lost if anyone found her hanging out with him (this guy supposedly is an 'untouchable' so say the actual untouchables)... as if she didn't think about it before beginning her slut business. At the end of the day, he fell asleep thinking about her-disappointed and dejected. Poor guy I felt... the first death is painful and after a while, the ghost just gets used to dying too often.

Bottomline: "Can't kill a dead Man twice... can we?"

Chanting the Cry

There is something that I noticed recently. The reason to chant. There is this guy who introduces himself as someone who has a lot of influence with people and matters relating to religion. Though a good friend of mine whose feelings I do respect, personally, I do not contain myself in shackles of religion. However, there came a point when he tried to tell me something that he wanted me not to do and as usual, I did not quite appreciate someone who had the nerve to tell me what to do and what not to. So I had to ask him to mind his own business and let the decisions I need to make be mine. Saying that, I was carrying on with my work and suddenly I hear humming of some strange kind. This guy was sitting in his lotus position and chanting mantras! Duh! Was he trying to intimidate me? Or maybe wanted to remind me that he is somebody who realms in power everyone sees and very few oversee. Or could it be that he was trying to find his own space to come clear off that disturbed peace by walking off into his world of surreal fantasy?! However, I was trying to smile with these thoughts.

Then came a situation when we had to rush in to oversee the rescue attempt of a few labourers who got trapped in a landslide. Interestingly the situation was more complicated than we expected; to find that the landslide was more man-made than natural. This situation arose not due to negligence yet due to complete submission by the so called “engineers” who worked around a heap of loose mud to keep a tree intact and went about building a structure around it commissioned to do so by one of the unquestionable high priests from a religious pact. 2 died. Still more awaiting the same destiny… though none still can refute the foolishness of the structure. Is it the poverty of the victims that makes silencing their cry so easy?

The self-acclaimed and often accepted power of this religious clan makes me wonder if other’s life is so easy to be taken for granted and easily coverable under chants which many do not understand. These are unsaid stories that will remain unsaid. The victims of these overt thinkers who profess their world of fantasies which they proclaim capable of seeing so blatantly misguided and taken for a ride… which by the by, they seem to enjoy. So who cares?! Power does play its rounds so well.

Bottomline: This land where I live is a land where someone said “Even if thou reavelth thy third eye, thy mistake shall be a mistake”

Is There Something There?!

The Messiah of hope they call the one who brings forth the NEWS of hope, despair and cluttered mixture of joy and happiness. The Messiah they make, at times pushed to the spiritual realms of a mystery, a euphoria, an ecstasy and a charisma dispelling; as if foretold. The mortals deny the free flow of the intellect to shatter this deliberated elevation. At times its just that sheeps always need a shephard. Nevertheless, most foxes hide beneath a sheep's skin.

The vain attempt to hide a morbid fear, the depth of the unknown treaded upon; from the howling beast to the blinding mist, an image emerges to stir the soul of the deepest fears the dark beholds. The imagination running wild, the mind as deep and dense as the ocean, now clouded with interepted thoughts, contemplating the presence of something so metaphysical in such a surreal world.

The light shatters this mystery though so does truth. Yet when its the truth that is in question of being hidden what can immortals expect more?! Science realms till the point of defining the energy that runs the world and every flora and fauna that exists in it and not a point after that, clouding the word 'energy' itself into another cloud of mystery that the spiritual world interrupts to interpret in its own way. Religion thus capitalizing on it.

Foolish mongrels who stray like lost pigs in a dense cloud of rich sty, slaving their bodies to rush from one temple to another except within. The world revolves and revolves as it will yet the ones who expect it to revolve around them will make people believe that it sure does as long as the doors of the paradise of fools remains unshut with the traffic of the waiting crowd of seekers of destiny in freewill.

Bottomline: Religion is an opium of fools and everyone rushes in with pots full and minds empty

Training the Tempest

Testing the man's impulse, temptation reigns.

With the maiden's simplest twist,

melody galored, beauty adored.

The ravaging beast within, all set to devour;

Knowing not the prey already lying in sweet surrender.

Lying thus between the mythical lines of insanity, vain, pain and seductive pleasure all entwined.

Tempest of lust rising like wildfire.

Amidst hope and shattering despair,

raining clouds could have drenched the reigning moan.

Yet with a harmonious glow with nothing left to conquer

began the exploration of the soul.

Bodies tied like a hangman's rope,

the noose neither killing nor letting go.

Kisses soft and hungry too,

the muscles twitching with every turn,

coiling like serpents in tight embrace,

the heart doth race

to the lover's pace.

Lifting high on the air above,

to let her fly as she will...

yet she leaned to reach her lovers lip,

to grab another moment of sheer bliss.

A walk into the wilderness with the kiss of love,

shackles of restraint broken in haste.

no more turmoil of the world below.

the heaven too far to reach above.

Rose the stars with twinkling glee,

Life was worth living free.

Bottomline: The energy of love entices the soul and captures those moments shredding the feeling, wanting for more...

Chanting the Cry Away

There is something that I noticed recently. The reason to chant. There is this guy who introduces himself as someone who has a lot of influence with people and matters relating to religion. Though a good friend of mine whose feelings I do respect, personally, I do not contain myself in shackles of religion. However, there came a point when he tried to tell me something that he wanted me not to do and as usual, I did not quite appreciate someone who had the nerve to tell me what to do and what not to. So I had to ask him to mind his own business and let the decisions I need to make be mine. Saying that, I was carrying on with my work and suddenly I hear humming of some strange kind. This guy was sitting in his lotus position and chanting mantras! Duh! Was he trying to intimidate me? Or maybe wanted to remind me that he is somebody who realms in power everyone sees and very few oversee. Or could it be that he was trying to find his own space to come clear off that disturbed peace by walking off into his world of surreal fantasy?! However, I was trying to smile with these thoughts.
Then came a situation when we had to rush in to oversee the rescue attempt of a few labourers who got trapped in a landslide. Interestingly the situation was more complicated than we expected; to find that the landslide was more man-made than natural. This situation arose not due to negligence yet due to complete submission by the so called “engineers” who worked around a heap of loose mud to keep a tree intact and went about building a structure around it commissioned to do so by one of the unquestionable high priests from a religious pact. 2 died. Still more awaiting the same destiny… though noone still can refute the foolishness of the structure. Is it the poverty of the people that makes silencing their cry so easy?
The self-acclaimed and often accepted power of this religious clan makes me wonder if other’s life is so easy to be taken for granted and easily coverable under chants which many do not understand. These are unsaid stories that will remain unsaid. The victims of these overt thinkers who profess their world of fantasies which they proclaim capable of seeing so blatantly misguided and taken for a ride… which by the by, they seemed to enjoy. So who cares?! Power does play its rounds so well.

Bottomline: This land where I live is a land where someone said “Even if thou reavelth thy third eye, thy mistake shall be a mistake”

What is this life if full of care?

Hello! Know what? Life has its twists and turns yet there are moments when dead ends are often the point where one reaches no matter how many expected right turns one takes, no matter how many crossroads one gets to.

Life is interesting and at times i force myself to say those favourite words of mine... "Lifes Good!" someday without feeling so untrue.

However, yesterday there was a sudden change in my thoughts like a flick of a whip, a reality check. Do I really have time to waste on trivial issues of life? Are the things I don't have time for so trivial? What are trivial things and what are not?

Thinking of the reality check, I felt that some patterns just re-emerge and think a good bull must have learnt its lesson from one whip and I just want to not re-do the things that once I regreted. Seriously I do not want to take that guilt trip again nor do I want to wander in a lost land of no hope. Then why do I plunge? Thats a questions I often ask myself only after taking the plunge... bit too late to answer anyway.

Life has odd corners too with someone waiting for you. Once you get near, you know that it is only an illusion. How long does one chase shadows? Worth chasing? Worth wasting so much time? The answer is obvious yet we chase... yet we get lost... yet we wonder... yet we never stop.

Now what? Reality check. Is it really going to make sense? Is it going to help me with my logic? Or are these too big to let the heart take its own course? Heart, mind, body and soul-whats the difference? All a game of semantics I suppose.

Bottomline: Life is only a genetically passed disorder and death is hereditary

Visiting The Forsaken Territory

Its been a long time since I have written with anger. Today I am angry and now as I write this, I am angry. I am angry with too many and as I always, keep reminding myself that, “someone who angers you, conquers you” and today, now, I stand conquered and incomplete acceptance.

The kind of thing that one gets angry about is the essence, the killer, the vulnerability and I have not learnt yet to deal with it. The cause being the result of the effect, the conditional boxes trying to contain me again, yet again, is the cause.

What started since yesterday being told that I should score people less in the tests, followed with people telling me what clothes I look better in expecting to dress up for their expectation, followed by people trying to tell me what to speak and what not to and all that BULLSHIT… by now I am fed up and have learnt from the past that once you let someone tell you what to be, you lose yourself, your own being and this is something that I do not want to go through at the moment. Have traveled well enough and have taken these paths that appear before me and have hated these patterns, refuted it and have lived sans guilt for a long… quite happily, for a very long time since. I hate these conditional boxes and if people want me to fit into one, they might themselves fit into that filth without bothering me. I am complacent and I hate being checked upon. Now people try as they try with other mortals… forgetting the fact that I was neither born yesterday nor do I consider them anything more than nothing.

I hate it when someone tells me what to do. Once again I have always done what is said to be never done and have always quite confidently and deliberately rebelled to break these conditional boxes and now, this audacity by people to imply boxes around me?! Surprising! Quite surprising!

Who the hvjkadha are these creatures to disturb my peace? Wish this was the good old days in the wild wild west when momentary anger can be vented and justice met then and there. I am sure I would have taken a few down or atleast died than lose my liberty, than let people contain me in these conditional boxes. I hate these conditional boxes. It has taken me so many years to reach this stage of complacency. Managed to free myself from many strangling conflicts, so many decisions that had to be taken, so many rules that were broken, so many effortless decisions, so many thoughtless thoughts, so many rebellious encounters and so so much… yet they want me to lose all this? In moments?! Just like that?! What the lkjdap;f? This is not it. This is simply not it. I hate these conditional boxes.

Nothing has contained me and no one ever has nor ever will. Now then, why expect? Who the jhahfoa do they think they are to tell me what to do? Who the nhdfjosgosdjgl do they think they lkashflhqlkf are? Nothing. Nothing at all according to me. What makes them think that I care a rats arse about who the bloody ,dgfaf they are? I don’t. or do I? I really don’t. they can go and live their bloody miserable hajlhfdwq up life and I care less. Have I given them undue attention and importance that they feel that now they can pontificate? No. I seriously don’t respect humans. No not at all. If they think that I do, I am sorry, I have disappointed you and happy that I have. Agjdq you all!

Infact, I despise you all who live with one squinted eye bothered about the world supposedly watching you and another on your miserable self entitled to life long guilt trips. I think you live your ljahfa life and let me live mine and I don’t want to belong to your group. Why pull me in? Why even try? I hate these condition boxes and I don’t want to be there where you can take your already rotting arses and screw yourself there.

Bottomline: Never let people tell you how good you are as they soon have the power to tell you how bad you are too.

Now What If...

"How much is too much?" This used to be the question sans answer posed a long time ago and the drama still continues.

Yesterday, I was called by Dr. X in the Department and in an announcement meant to reach the entire Staff Room through me, it was told that I had erred by giving a full mark for a student in the class test.

According to the hypothesis, 'they need space for improvement by marking them less.'

There was a question once again thrown at me, if there was no place where I can reduce the marks. There wasn't. This kid had taken pains to write the Psychological and Psychiatric aspects of the concept, had presented it really well and there was simply no error. Actually, given a choice, I would have marked more. Yet I had to agree upon power thrown around that I will mark them less next time "Giving them the space for improvement" Duh!

Now what if people tell me whats the minimum marks I can give rather than tell me the maximum?

Now what if people leave the extent of the mark to be given to the discretion of the Lecturer and just keep their perspectives to themselves?

Now what if people learnt to pontificate less?

Now what if I still don't believe that someone has to be marked less just because I have the power to tell them that I can... because I can?

Now what if the students decide that marks cannot judge how good they are?

Now what if people try to figure a way to positively reinforce good work rather than highlight the not so positives all the time?

Now what if I still don't fall for this pressure and still decide for myself what is best even if I am not right?

Now what if the world learns to stop containing people within limits and give them space to grow?

Bottomline: Now what if... we recheck ourselves?!

They Definitely Need To Be In A Workshop

Coming back from a workshop, there was something I wanted to blog about. Will verbattim the process for better understanding...

Scene: The workshop, a senior Professor, is surrounded by hand-picked company of girls... they are about to begin discussion on a topic on "Process"... and the dialogue goes as follows in the paradise of fools...

Antique Prof: O.K before we begin, lets understand what 'supervision process' is.

Aspiring Student: Sir, whats a 'process'?

Antique Prof: Yeah, thats what I want to start with. O.K, since none of you know, let me explain what a process is.

(It was almost nearing lunch time)

Antique Prof: When we go for a buffet, we first take the plate, right?

Aspiring Students: Yes, sir!

Antique Prof: Then we take some chappatis, right?

Aspiring Students: Yes, sir (in Chorus)

Antique Prof: Then we take some chicken, then some mutton, then some raitha and proceed to eat... right?

Aspiring Students: oh, yes sir! (now almost reaching a fake state of ecstasy)

Antique Prof: We do not dump everything in one... rather, we follow a system and that is process my dear!

(I would have expected light effects and more drama at this point. However, this old guy, being a bachelor and having every right to be so, is also supposedly a very powerful person in his own den. So now for the hysterical part...)

Antique Prof: Now did you get it?

(As he secretly pryes on the fake attention, his quiet satisfaction got busted when one among the few said...)

Aspiring Student: No, sir!

Antique Prof: Why?

Aspiring Student: "I am a vegetarian sir!"

(Duh! I almost fell off my chair hearing this... untill this old guy goes...)

Antique Prof: O.K, so you take a plate, you take some chappatis, you take some mushroom, you take some gobi manchurian, some raitha and proceed to eat... now thats a process... (puff! pant! puffed out!) Did you get it?

Aspiring Student: Ahhh! now I understood it.

(Professor giggles, I almost lose my balance... I can hear the chorus "Long live the community of fools" singing in high pitch somewhere in the corner of my head)

Bottomline: Wonder how some so called 'Men' behave like fools in the company of women

Cognition To Connect

Today there was a thought I have been trying to remember and finally got it!

Earlier I had read an other blog where the protagonist asks "is it possible to see and touch an object-which is sensation-but not let thought create the image?" and wanted to reply sans reflection cos Psychology had the answer for the same. 'Cognition' being the keyword, it brings into force various connections learnt, experienced and observed. This is a vault from which these pieces are interwoven. The magnificient marvel of the human mind!

A very small meditation on the word 'Mountain' (for an illustration) brings in the memories of the first mountain climb we had, the view of the snow-filled tops, the accidents we narrowly missed during the climb upward, the mist that we saw and the oncoming traffic that we couldn't, the rugged buses that passed by, the chillness on the tip, the furnace in the kitchen that kept us warm while sipping that black tea, the images from the ends of the cliff, the person who walked with us skin on skin... for the warmth or for the lusty fire burning within-God alone knows! the temple by the brook, the crystal clear water, the careful trek scanning for animals that might come to the brook, the animals that actually crossed the path, the relationships that began on top and ended as we descended... and how glad we were though the pretentious mask of saddness we did put on... hahaha! not possible to let the thoughts disconnect at the point one wants to! It is simply a rush of connections, connection after connection. Thats cognition! And if it were not there, we have a problem at the Psychological level to solve. The visual imagery with auditory response and sensory stimulus is just a normal process and it is an indifferent mind that questions yet a ignorant one that ponders. This is simply not a wonder. Simple, natural and clear.

Bottomline: If something did not affect you, it was not worth going through.

Riding In The Dark

Lately, I have been wondering if emotions mean anything. This comes in after sensing the need for others around me wanting to know so much about themselves... Why?

Are we so interesting that we need to ponder so much about ourselves to an extent that we care less for quintessentials around us? So much of self importance required?!

Recently I have been upto some pygmallion- endeavours. However, the result always foreseen, the mind games I wish not to play, the muses I try to keep-all bubbles. The trouble with the mind is that it keeps me facinated to watch the need for people to facinate others by moving inwards or outward, taking rejections, contemplations and wishes to a fine display at all unconsious levels, revealing more than they wish to hide.

Yesterday, strangely, an introvert-masochistic Professor, came out of his shell to ask me if I could lend him some of the books on Psychiatry and Psychology, in a miserable attempt to help him understand the minds of others. Told him that he was too juvenile to read the stuff lying on my table and hence as all mortals do, he proceeds to my reading table to get a glimpse of what I was reading. As expected, he did not fare too well. he said that Horney and Gottman were too confusing and that Freud did not make any sense. The moment someone tells me that Freud does not make sense, it hits me and I wonder questioning the facade of intellectual poverty of such creatures and wish deep from my heart that those sucklings need to go through a rhythymic abandon like a stray bitch and wish that the suffering they are undergoing be aggravated with more fleece up their a%^$e. May be this fellow being a masochist, will sit there to enjoy it. So rather than give him the pleasure of my discontent, I chose to withdraw into the night sans food and soon, a couple of friends, we rode the bikes into the darkness at midnight-for no reason. It was good. Proximity another question that was dwelling in my mind was also sedimenting with the ditches around the corner posing more of an excitement than threat. However, life sans guilt is better than life sans sins.

Bottomline: Reading does not enlighten you... rather it is the enlightenment that makes you read.

Yet To Get A Tune

People are dying in temptation, shame and pain.
People are living for power, for revenge and selfish gain.
Love does not matter any more.
Tradition, culture and true passion-people bother no more.

What is this life?
What is this life?
Does no one ever see? What this is turning to be?

Countries go for war like a game.
Little children get killed with no name.
Love does not matter any more.
Concern, peace and care-people bother no more.

What is this life?
What is this life?
Does no one ever see? What this is turning to be?

We struggle in a world gone insane.
We live to struggle every day.
Love does not matter any more.
Children, family and friends-we bother no more.

What is this life?
What is this life?Does no one ever see? What this is turning to be?

From A Trip

There is so much I would like to blog about. Just back from a trip to my cousins. So many events and so many personalities and so many dynamics that come with it... so much so that yesterday's Ramzaan party at Sumsudeen's was a good get away. The night, once again with friends at another party... these days I get invited to so many parties and invariably there is so much of sharing. Sort of getting used to the fact that various groups like to party and glad to be part of every other group. Sadder than being invited to these parties were you are obliged to go would be, when you don't get invited to any. So think this is better for me...

Ever wonder what comes in when a group deliberates itself to listen to you thinking that you are meaningful? It sort of puts a need to be reassured with the arms of wisdom around you and wish passively that you are making sense and not dissappointing the audience. At times it makes you feel as though the acceptance of you by the group can surpass their expectations so much so that you can actually touch upon the lightest things in the world and make it sound like a wonder. Needless to say, it is... isn't it not?

By the by, yesterday had its interesting turn of events too. Vulnerability is not my 'inthing' yet I knew I was vulnerable at certain points. Glad that it went as unnoticed as a Freudian slip. By the by, I wrote one of the steamiest, passionate and intense poems yesterday... Have to decide if i may post it... hmmmm! let me think...

Psst! Haven't been able to post anything that I wanted to... just got drifted away...

Bottomline: Life is interesting...

Bubbles...

Human soul is so fragile, existing on a delicate mask it wears creating an illusion around it for its own comfort to a point where the question of its survival becomes a reality too hard to bear when it has to destroy the illusion it has created around it; spending time, energy, emotions and money to come out of the condition box it is trapped in to set itself free, to face the world of reality and to experience what life has in store for each one of us.

This often leaves the soul shattered making it feel empty and meaningless when it comes in terms with the reality that surrounds it and finds that there is no way out of this fake world of illusions but to accept the hard, crude and ruthless fact that the mask indeed has to be taken off and left behind when one is tired of wearing and carrying the mask too long. The essence of exploring deep into the soul begins thus by initiating a need to find the answers to life and wanting to experience it for real in the discoveries that one makes in the wilderness the soul is dropped to find itself.

This lost soul is often not alone and this at times heightens the questions of finding one's path in the wilderness seeing other soul searchers mercilessly searching as well. There are plenty of soul searchers out there often in frustration and desperation in the initial stages of the search. This phase is only a test of endurance. To check if one deserves what one desires.

The very act of soul searching begins when one is fed up of the artificiality, faking and lies that people use as an armor as well as a weapon to deceive. Thus begins the search for truth, love and purpose for which one would live or die for.

Truth sets us free. Simple and clear. There is nothing more left to be explained about that.

Love on the other hand is a parasite just like the people who search for it to feast, survive and spread. Ironically it is a parasite living on a parasite consuming and growing on each other. 'Love is an illusion', so they say. For every searching soul this is an option left open for the revival of the lost innocence from the corrupted traps of knowledge which entered in the pretext of curbing ignorance. It is in this wild quest for exploration that souls are lost and found in a maze often leading to amazing discoveries that surprises, shatters or soothes the soul from deep inside.

Bottomline: Without losing oneself, one can hardly find what they are searching for.

From The Closet

One day due to some strange reason I started walking through the streets where I grew.

Reminiscence and childhood memories with every step, the playground where we friends used to bash up each other in the name of some wild game and patched up for the next game, the games were always on perhaps they never stop, the old flour mill and the masala shop, the teachers who lived nearby, the tuition centres, my friend’s homes, girls who I thought were beautiful, who lived nearby, the slanting post where I drove the new bicycle and crashed on the other side of the wall, the old tiled house with hanging pots and the Morris Minor, Herald and Lambretta, the tank at the backyard where I soaked myself in summer, which made me think that I was an ace swimmer, which ended up in me getting bashed for jumping into the sea thinking that swimming in the ocean was as easy as swimming in the tank, the famous landmark-a telephone exchange, the skating rink, the guitar classes, the wedding house where I learnt the existence of class system, the empty plot into which we used to shoot rockets with fire on their tail, the mango and guava trees, my secret hiding place in the old depleted building, the old well into which we used to throw the biggest stones to hear them splash, the Sunday classes... even if anything had changed, my eyes saw only the mirage of their presence as it was when I was a kid.

A deliberate stubbornness to ensure that nothing should change… an attempt to wish that the small essence of innocent memories through those eyes of the child must not be lost.

Wish I could go back time and relive a few moments I cherish and change a few I regret as well. Think I do not have the luxury to say as many do that I do not wish to turn back and change anything in my life if given a chance to do so. At times God is like an unforgiving opponent in the game of chess who would not let us change a move we regret after making it.

Time, money and mobility changes our life style and at times family, fate and duty creates a distance between us and people we wish to be with. However, at the end of the day, money changes everything I suppose. It can make people hate and love in seconds, create an illusion and make a dream come true right in front of our eyes, makes the ugly beautiful and vice versa, breaks barriers for self and sets up barriers for others, creates suspicion, doubts and at the same time liberates people. It is a genie. I think I would give in to letting money stay with me if it knows how to keep silent.

Bottomline: Songs of innocence are cherished only after lamenting through songs of experience.

The Traffic Signal

One day as I was driving past the traffic in the peak hours of the morning, I saw for fact that every human is rushing towards something only s/he knows and in a mindless effort to negotiate, cares so less for the other mortals taking the same path. So in the road, just as in the trip called life.

The rudimentary challenge that confronts my mind at this moment to get past this suburban drudgery is the chronic dissatisfaction that confronts all my efforts and makes it seem so fragile… is this bubble we live in so delicate? When do we have a story of our life worth having, carved on stone instead of these fading passages we tiringly try to write in the sands near the shore… nevertheless even stones disappear with constant dropping of tears don’t they?

Probably the emergence of this unpleasant and demanding vacuum devouring me which makes me frantically search for those little pleasures of life hidden and lying submerged in the unknown hues of a pleasant sky often when realized, comes from within. Probably we expect too much from outside to make us happy… or is it due to the bulging ambitious drive which oversees the stones one has to step on despite the flesh being torn, we seldom wait to frown as our eyes are lifted somewhere high on the mountains we wish to reach, our legs still walking on? At the end of the day, what the heck are we all walking for following the trails left behind by others in flocks hoping that this is the trail every lost soul takes?

The easiest path is to follow the footsteps of others I suppose… no wonder books sell so well. We second-hand creatures!

One more thing that I get to see are people in the verge of anxiety and with a rush of fear and hope to have everything under their control even those beyond, resort to superstitions. Those which make us pledge some elements responsible for the ways we screw up our lives or things around it.

These days I am so glad that I was present during one of the life changing sessions I had attended during my college days… the person who talked was a renowned and famous actor known for his criticism of religion. He said that if religion uses fear arising out of anxiety as a tool to imprison us in our own self acclaimed prison and thrives on the revenue thus expected to exculpate us, then who needs such a religion which brings forth such superstitions for its own promotion?

By renouncing religion, we save ourselves from this complacency of surviving on such superstitions. What one has to deal with and carefully uproot is the fear and anxiety that lies beneath deep rooted, instead of trying to chip out branches or apply makeup to an unhealing wound.

Bottomline:
If I were to put it in a pure language of Economics, ‘An uneven distribution of my soul sans a tryst between my heart and mind in the perfect market situation bothered by countless thoughtless thoughts.’ Just like every intellect questioning in remorse at the end of the day the knowledge which corrupts and the second-hand learnings and thoughts without which he would have been better off… those signs of learning that got him labeled eccentric which he can’t deny… and he still thinks in borrowed conceptions and perceptions to understand his hunger and evoke his own thoughts. Still thinking… Now what?

Hail Moral Judges!

Sometimes we always see life passing by, from a window. Safely ‘wishing’ we can be on the other side of ridicule… ideally! Only wishing! Wishing for the ideal.

On a dead mannequin rests an essence of a person who admires the exchanged idea of a persona alive across the glass window. The transfer of the psyche into a non-existing form to reach for the tangibles and experience it in convinience! The convenient game of watching someone else take our place to have the guilty pleasure we want too and to have the luxury of standing back and watching that replaced 'someone' suffer the consequences of the action. We want to escape and that too... unharmed.

Such a merciless calm before the storm!

The rudimentary challenge that faces everyone sometime and someone every time, are moments when a principle one holds is cornered and crudely challenged. Principles! The ones that we make for ourselves to find dignity and respect in places where people tell us to guard our reputation even with our own life. From where do these challenges emerge that makes us impaired when seldom prepared?! Fraying those little hopes so meticulously chiseled like fragile remains of strained faith of an ancient painting in a deserted cave, left to rot yet still shimmering the keeper’s pride.

Those moments when one dives deep, touching the rock bottom at the nadir of an ocean of ridicule, flapping those tattering mermaid fins, lost between a smoky dust of a surreal land one wants to merge and the mesmerizing-luscious beauty of the deep-mystic ocean one wants to diverge. Those moments of finding strength and dying helplessly… Anger, frustration and more anger and even more helpless anger that emerge like bursting lava in its full frenzy from an erupting volcano with the lust of desires we have and to not find what we hold as firmly as we seek to find the same for those moments of momentary comfort.

Nevertheless, some lifeless moths do make certain compromises for the lack of its principles, and that frantic wish to fake its presence in the vacuum of its absence, creeps in a desire to expect it from those vulnerable to our provocations. That FC$KING moral judgments passed… that jealousy with a halo!

Bottomline: As you judge, so may you be judged

The Lustful Wish

Whirlwinds of magnitude great
swirleth like wildfire rising.
Far above the celestial skies,
A whisper among the Gods-About her beauty.

The widening smile, her twinkling eyes!
The words just broke and the worlds just stopped to watch
as she jumped to sway her flowing frock.

The winds of mischief with growing lust gasped for a moment and grew stronger,
Watching her honey-drenched lips shine with the sun’s blinding rays.
The rays so sharp, cleverly did try to hide her skin,
brazing those watchful eyes.

She jumped to reach,
To reach for something above the skies.

The splendid horizon,
The mooring moon,
The soaring eagle,
The thumping beagle,
The mind full of vanishing struggle oft tried in vain,
to contain her within limits of boundaries and pensive solace.

The fragile leaves swayed in the field
with tender understanding as they soothed her glowing skin.

“Even the free-sailing tempest dareth not stop her now.
This time is for her to fly and touch the skies.”
Said he standing invisible somewhere near.

The Soul So Fragile...

Human soul is so fragile, existing on a delicate mask it wears creating an illusion around it for its own comfort to a point where the question of its survival becomes a reality too hard to bear when it has to destroy the illusion it has created around it spending time, energy, emotions and money to come out of the condition box it is trapped in to set itself free, to face the world of reality and to experience what life has in store for each one of us. This often leaves the soul shattered making it feel empty and meaningless when it comes in terms with the reality that surrounds it and finds that there is no way out of this fake world of illusions but to accept the hard, crude and ruthless fact that the mask indeed has to be taken off and left behind when one is tired of wearing and carrying the mask too long. The essence of exploring deep into the soul begins thus by initiating a need to find the answers to life and wanting to experience it for real in the discoveries that one makes in the wilderness the soul is dropped to find itself. This lost soul is often not alone and this at times heightens the questions of finding one's path in the wilderness seeing other soul searchers mercilessly searching as well. There are plenty of soul searchers out there often in frustration and desperation in the initial stages of the search. This phase is only a test of endurance. To check if one deserves what one desires.

The very act of soul searching begins when one is fed up of the artificiality, faking and lies that people use as an armor as well as a weapon to deceive. Thus begins the search for truth, love and purpose for which one would live or die for.

Truth sets us free. Simple and clear. There is nothing more left to be explained about that.

Love on the other hand is a parasite just like the people who search for it to feast, survive and spread. Ironically it is a parasite living on a parasite consuming and growing on each other. 'Love is an illusion', so they say. For every searching soul this is an option left open for the revival of the lost innocence from the corrupted traps of knowledge which entered in the pretext of curbing ignorance.

It is in this wild quest for exploration that souls are lost and found in a maze often leading to amazing discoveries that surprises, shatters or soothes the soul from deep inside.

Bottomline: Without losing oneself, one can hardly find what they are searching for.

Sin Sans Guilt

Isn’t it strange how Gods have Goddesses yet the Devil is always Masculine and alone! Does that mean that every Man needs a woman to become God-like? Undeniably there is a correlation. Look around… it’s the Boys, Guys, Men without a woman besides to neutralize that venomous testosterone by submerging it with the magic and illusion of love who dare to venture into the forbidden world of sin sans guilt though quite often than at times its because of the women they are with that Men get into this world too.

Does this sprinkle a perspective? Men need women who are feminine not those who think that Men are chauvinistic, arrogant bastards and display their equally annoying side by trying to replicate them as a means to be their “equals”. It is in this deadly combination of the completely Masculine side of the Man and the completely feminine side of the female that an aura of charisma is created. Everyone needs an inspiration to create or destroy. Inspiration comes in many forms be it music, wine or women though one Man’s food can be another Man’s poison… the wonder of nature’s ability to create a monster and an angel at the same time with the same ingredients. Romance is just a cloud every human soul wants to embrace.Typical Male behaviour is seen in the wild though most Male beasts roam in the urban jungle amidst files and wires. Though capable of offering tender love and care, this animal prefers to be complicated, aggressive, uncontrollable, unpredictable, arrogant and powerful reserving 'tlc' only for the woman it is with. Once having decided to be nasty to survive the wild, it is better to be the rare Blackadder.

Bottomline: "Some rise by sin and some by virtue fall" Shakespeare

Missed You Today...

(This is one among the few letters from the vault that I used to write to a very dear person in my life who passed away recently. Just felt like sharing. May her soul rest in peace...)

New Delhi,
11th December’ 2006.
2345hrs

Dearest Grandma,
Hope that this mail of mine finds you in good health. I was surprised, excited, moved and lost in wonder when I saw the guard at the office bring me your letter to me. The best thing of all is the fact that this is my first Christmas card for the year. Then as I started reading the letter, I could see those hands of yours that have got old serving wo/mankind inching letter by letter to communicate a message of love so genuine and true. I felt a strange sense of complete and immense bliss surround me. It was like I was lifted, I was floating and was softly touching the clouds and reaching out to heaven. I know that’s quite a fantasy yet something that I could experience through you.

Isn’t life blissful at times Grandma?

I was at Haryana and Punjab recently. Went to Kurukshetra, Panipat and a Commando training place (which was actually the ruins of a huge, really huge fort). If History would come into picture, there is a strange chapter to which these “supposedly” great places get connected to-WARS!

I began to wonder and wondering led to pondering in the place I was wandering. I think its easier to be in war than to live in peace. Its so easy! Yeah, yeah isn’t it easier to train the finger to pull a trigger than to train it to play the guitar. Isn’t it easier to kill rather than to save the dying? Isn’t it easier to steal rather than work hard for that one meal and eat it with dignity? Then the pride and the way warriors are showered with praise all ultimately touches rock bottom when I realize that all this barbaric rush to severe the head of one’s own species is all because we never try for the better option may be because the better options are never the easier options. We always stick to the easier one; the one that needs nothing to be given from our end even if it takes something out of our neighbour. So primitive and so grounded people are that civilization is a word that only a very few know if at all people understand.

Look around. The world is tattered. Children are crying with no one to comfort them. People-human beings-who suffer in silence due to oppression, corruption, violence, abuse, poverty, crime, suppression and what not? Look at them! Don’t we see hands that lift up tenderly to be held, hands that need someone to touch them and help them out; out of that hell they see on a beautiful earth that God gave us? Aren’t they worth enjoying God’s love? Aren’t they just like you and me who need food, water, strength and love? Aren’t they made in the image of my sweet Lord as well? How can I neglect them? Why should I let them suffer? What should I fear to help them? What would stop me? I have nothing to lose and nothing to gain. Nothing to lose because I am nothing and am just a sweet soldier in the army of my lord where love is the only weapon. My mission is to use the weapon as much as I can. I have nothing to gain as in this army everything is unconditional. My battle field is the whole world and to wherever it can be extended. I must conquer not to establish power yet to make conquerors out of the conquered. No weapon is more powerful than love. No army is more powerful than an army devoted to bring in peace. No man or woman is left unconquerable in front of love.

Many have tried to conquer the world otherwise through violence and have proved repeatedly to be fools who at the end of the day cannot take what they cannot carry. A war centered on violence only aggravates the curse of hatred. How wonderful it would be if we have the choice to love one another and are removed of the chance to hate? How nice it would be to smile and greet and touch and make a difference in the life of everyone we meet? How nice it would be? Can’t Christmas be a time when love is born not just in cards and messages but in every heart? Can’t these battles stop and a new war for love begin to convince the people who have lost hope and faith that there is still a reason to live and a reason for the people who die, to die with a smile knowing for sure that the world is a wonderful place to live in and the one’s they leave behind would be safe and fine? How peaceful and blissful the world would become if only it were showered with love. Can’t people be passionate to love rather than hate? Even though its easier to die than to live…

Miles to go before I sleep. Happy Christmas Grandma. You know how much I love you? Mmmmmh! Let me think! May be just as much love that Christmas can bring into this world.

With lots of love,

Your Grandson,

(Ajith Fredjeev Dinakarlal)