Lesser Mortals..

The uncanny knack of our government to reduce accidents. The government is filling pot holes and breaking road humps to help the traveler. And how is all this helping: Here its is… look at it from this point of view.
• Pot-holes are filled. Unevenly: A couple of inches above the road level or a couple of inches below the road level.
• The road humps are broken. Unevenly: A crude digging job that leaves the area uneven and the residue scattered on the road.
So, the speed is under check and no worries about employing more cops to check speeding. The noble intention behind this intentional activity is reducing death rate due to accidents. (hmmm this is probably a topic that infrastructure development students can choose for a thesis. The data am sure is readily available at hospitals or police stations). The thought goes like…reducing speeding reduces accident and thus cuts down on mortality. The fringe benefit also includes optimization of personnel employed to police around.

My gratitude to happiness..

The melancholic days, the urge to talk, the want to listen, the callous moments, the brimming anger, the unlimited anxiety ridden hours, the tension topped exam days, the stress of the unseen, the constant worry of worrying, the hassle of the bloodline, the lonely tear-filled nights, the loneliness in an overcrowded world, the pretense of happiness, the criticism of self, the irony of success, the insincere friends, the loathsome selfish humans, the ego filled individuals, the untruthful, the devastating cheats of nature, the hunger to want to know… the incline to life goes on.

The cosseted avenue of my life is harbored by happiness. Thank you. The beautiful mornings, the wonderful camera, the ever-willing paint brush, the happy people, the unreal friends, the ‘friends’, the pjs, the ability to laugh, the mind to think of the unimaginable, the smell of a fresh bake, the moments of love, the pine to travel far and beyond, the unforeseen success, the ability to run walk and talk, the urge to spend, the unlimited joy of being, the support of life, the willing suspension of disbelief, the face-hurting tear-jerking stomach-churning laughs, the coffee, the light to capture the moment for eternity, the nights of blissful dreams…and the continuous dream filled days. The days in life are a mock tail of the zeal to live. The ardor of life is an understanding of the happiness by dealing with obscurity.

Should Oct 2 be a National Holiday?

What did I do on Oct 2? I watched some TV, ate, drank, slept…it was just another day. But then, a long weekend. What is the purpose of this National Holiday? To spend more time on doing all the regular things we do on holidays?

Can we make this a working day instead. Make another religious celebration a national holiday. Calling our country, India, a melting pot of religions or calling it a sub-continent alone will not suffice. Effort has to be made to make this mark in ink indelible. We have to make an effort to create avenues to make this country true to its name: a melting pot of religion.

So what did you do on Oct 2?

Eyes Wide Open...

This phenomenon happens to me a couple of times in a year, I guess. This is the time when my mind gets enough light and thought and I begins to think. Trala la…The last couple of days have been those phenomenal days ;)

I have thought, professed to myself, smiled a lot (which I do for no reason), tried to come to terms with reality, blogged a bit, and opened my eyes wide. The world looks a lot more pleasant, people don’t bother me – they remain painful and boring…but doesn’t bother me much, songs make me happier, I did not yell at the scoundrels on the street, nor did I sulk… oh… this seems like a year. But then, one thing… had no one to spew my PJs at…

Anyways… continuing on the life’s winding roads…glad to be at the pleasant curve.

And then comes Keats…

OH! how I love, on a fair summer's eve,
When streams of light pour down the golden west,
And on the balmy zephyrs tranquil rest
The silver clouds, far - far away to leave
All meaner thoughts, and take a sweet reprieve
Fromm little cares; to find, with easy quest,
A fragrant wild, with Nature's beauty drest,
And there into the delight my soul deceive.
There warm my breast with patriotic lore,
Musing on Milton's fate - on Sydney's bier -
Till their stern forms before my mind arise:
Perhaps on wing of Poesy upsoar,
Full often dropping a delicious tear,
When some melodious sorrow spells mine eyes.

..A Foolish Romantic??

I am overloaded with work. But its been a couple of days that I am unable to resist my blogging urges. Never happened before. I just want to talk…

Something I have been mulling for a while. A while being many many years…from the time I felt those butterflies in my stomach… should I say heart (just to distinguish hunger from love).

My concept of love… not to market a theory but just to get clarity in my head. I am a romantic in my head. Completely. I get all cheered up with flowering rows of trees, the sunshine filled lake, the touch of drizzle, the idea of romance, the thought of walking down a rusty leaves filled walkway, the idea of talking about the obscurest of things, the idea of a walk in the clouds, day dreaming, possibility of travelling and everything about life. I smile for no reason and I have no clear idea of what love is.

Have ended without words at the end of conversations on love. Have been called a ‘foolish romantic’ for having a thin line between good friendship and love. (on a tangent, I love the foolish romantic usage. I truly don’t mind being foolish in romance). I think love is about the comfort and compatibility that you share with a good friend, which has to then be converted by effort to make it more than that. By effort I mean, the effortless attempt to zoom that extra mile. Saying the love we have, the yearning to be with the other, the thought of togetherness, words of endless love … all these come in with an effort made over a period of time. I do not want a bunch of roses or a basket of cocoa or candle light dinners. I might be the least a guy would look for in the terms of a girlie girl. I don’t dress myself for fashion…but do it for comfort and I don’t have the flirty sentences and laugh. I am a snob and like very few people and have very few friends. But I am happy there are people who are friends with me and agree to disagree with my rants. I have found love. Love in all that life has to offer. I have decided not to fret about losing something…but to be happy that I had something. Loss has added to my perspective of life. I don’t have time to let go of opportunity for I am living. Time is short and I don’t know where my end is. So what if I don’t drink beer and smoke.. I enjoy life and am high on life and will always be!! Thanks to those many many that I yearned to be with. I have learnt what love could be too.

Abruptly Speaking…

What is love? Professing my theories… I always believe (or I don’t know if I should say believed) it’s an amalgamation of a lot of emotions put together. It’s mainly about the ease of comfort and compatibility that springs out of friendship between two people. In the long run, it could include compassion, affection, yearning and all the host of other things. But then when is one in love? Is it something I can fit into my drafted notion? Is it just comfort and compatibility? Will a person be able to see the bleep or the halo on or in the head?

Going into one of these conversations on one rainy night… I heard different notions on the theory of love. One the many that intrigued me is the concept of love – which is realized only when you miss a person. Bogs me..What is missing a person? The feeling of getting into a habit and suddenly having to break it? The feeling of missing a cigarette? The feeling of missing a door that existed in the hallway for 5 years and you walked past it everyday…and one fine morning did not find it there? Then you miss the door? How can you miss a person? Is it like your parent that you saw every single day of your life and then came back one day to realize they are no more? Or is it simply missing that person who entertained you? Is it the idle mind that craves entertainment that we can call ‘missing’? It’s not ridiculing the interpretations of missing..but it is my attempt to understand this complex feeling. Like the Taj Mahal built as a tomb in the memory of a beloved wife. Is that an ostentatious exhibition of a personal feeling? Os just an immortal expression of love for a life?

Before the philosopher in me takes a shot at answering these questions…I take leave. I prefer to exclude myself from these complex emotions of life and get back into my shell of obscurity and contempt and take it as it comes. Cheers!!

PS: This piece has resemblance to many conversations living and dead. It is purely not coincidental if you thought you discussed it. ;)

Great Expectations??

My take: Expectation is life. Expecting more...makes it greed. So can't I be human and expect.

I want to go out, I want to eat, I want to be, I want to be loved, I want to be happy.

This is not about illogically romanticising life. Its about wanting be happy. After undersanding the journey of life - with two fixed points - why don't I go ahead, with no strings attached and love life.

I wonder why I think too much, analyze and want. My expectation is not greed...I don't want more...but will i ever let go of my fear of refusal or sadness and move ahead and be able to ask for my want.

Starting with an understanding of expectation and ending with a surreal understanding of expectation, is what life is according to me. Being born is the purpose of life...and then the inverse proportionality of growing in life and losing the meaning of life. The growth definitely clutters the mind with unnecessary weeds that breed to swell the unwanted.

As confusing as it may sound... it is. I no not how to put the thoughts in any sound logical format. I no not what to do..So be it, life will go on.