Anchored!

It's a sign...

I had the shoe brush in my right-hand while I held the boot with my left. Ever since people tagged me as the soliloquy bugger, I began talking to myself even more. What’s wrong? I talk to myself. There are two persons living within me, the fiend and the conscience. What’s wrong if I butt in? I chuckled and continued admiring the beauty of the beach, still holding the boot in my hand. Whoa! Thanks mom, this place is lovely. Who often gets to have a holiday in such a place! Yeah, it’s a dusty place. Or sandy? The beach is meant to be sandy. Blah. How does it matter if I wear my boots or not? Whatever! I dropped the brush and left one boot unpolished. The sun set in the horizon against the backdrop of the trees and birds. Amazing! What the… I still haven’t felt the sand all day. I got glued to my chair trying to break my writers’ block. Just then I noticed a smile formation on the sand. Brilliant! Nature’s calling. Time to set foot on the sandyland…I hopped past the boulders of stone, barefoot, before I slipped and fell over hurting my knee. Damn the boots. Aren’t they for sand? I would have had them for grip on these rocks. Sigh! I managed to pick myself up. Thank you, let’s move on to see the smiley. Alas! I lost track of the place where I spotted it from my room. Ridiculous, if only I managed to have my boots on! But yeah I realized I was standing on the nose of the once-upon-a-time-smiling-smiley-formation-on-the-sand. Where are the eyes? The nose happened to extend itself meeting the smile perpendicularly and the eyes disappeared. How fitting! .The shape resembled an anchor and what does this signify?

I returned to my room when I heard my mom shouting, her voice fleeting in the wind ‘Son, get your butt off the chair and get on the beach. You anchored yourself to this darned chair since the time I brought you here.’ 

Yes, nature beckons… 

[my friend had asked me to post something delightful instead of a serious post. hence this.]

The Change. To Question.

Identity

[thoughts depicted in the passage below have been a result of a debate, an on-going debate trying to rediscover truths. Hence, they are purely my view and are not in conflict with any other. These are open to discussion and criticism. However, I have used first person plural in this passage. Oh btw, the debate has been with myself, questioning the very purpose of what I’ve seen.]

· When we are the same everyday, we seem to find ourselves on a monotonous ride, a ride that seems to take us on the path that we all expect. If there is a deviation, we know it has risen out of the irregularities, something that is not intended. I thought undergoing a change, an identity will add a new dimension, in the way we would wish it to be. But we are never really sure if that change benefits us, in a way to change the irregularity. The seconds are just coming, the very blink of an eye is a moment. What we are missing is the instant that we miss during the blink. If that is what we are missing, how many instances have we missed every time our eyes are closed?

· Here’s an excerpt from ‘Waking Life’:

Creation seems to come out of imperfection. It seems to come out of a striving and a frustration. And this is where I think language came from. I mean, it came from our desire to transcend our isolation and have some sort of connection with one another. And it had to be easy when it was just simple survival. Like, you know, "water." We came up with a sound for that. Or "Saber-toothed tiger right behind you." We came up with a sound for that. But when it gets really interesting, I think, is when we use that same system of symbols to communicate all the abstract and intangible things that we're experiencing. What is, like, frustration? Or what is anger or love? When I say "love," the sound comes out of my mouth and it hits the other person's ear, travels through this Byzantine conduit in their brain, you know, through their memories of love or lack of love, and they register what I'm saying and they say yes, they understand. But how do I know they understand? Because words are inert. They're just symbols. They're dead, you know? And so much of our experience is intangible. So much of what we perceive cannot be expressed. It's unspeakable. And yet, you know, when we communicate with one another, and we feel that we've connected, and we think that we're understood, I think we have a feeling of almost spiritual communion. And that feeling might be transient, but I think it's what we live for.

I can recollect the caustic words of my roommate's girlfriend, probably out of striving and frustration ‘if a guy cannot risk his life for his girlfriend, then he isn’t worth to be the one.’ The words would have come out of the desire for survival, surviving with the one she wants but there is a person at the receiving end and does the same run through his mind? He has a feeling he is living for and if he is questioned, then he begins to question his own frustration. Everything seems normal but there is a loophole rooted within that little gap of communication that brought an end to their relationship. So the question is: do we have to be a different person to confirm our existence? And if we do undergo a change, are we solving the purpose that actually failed last time or do we have to when we know we aren’t wrong? We know what we are and yet we do not understand. We now need the right symbols to communicate with.

· Disconnecting with one’s own self has its consequences. Imagine being bombarded with praise or insults or associating yourself with ruthless aspects of your existence. It begins to affect your routine in commonplace. We steer our routine based on what we see around us. If you are staring at a black cloud and hoping for sunlight while others hope for rain, you are not the common man, you have disconnected yourself and you are waiting to see a change.

· There is always something called a blind-belief. If the odds are zero, you seem to think you hit a dead-end. There is something beyond the end. We need a path to penetrate the impossible. If you have accepted that the odds are zero and moving on [with or without a clue with what’s ahead], and if you are of the opinion the path ahead is visible, then there is a chance we are blinded by the light. If darkness blinds us, so can light. The odds are balanced. The way we take it. To make our chance even, it has to be belief. Call it blind or deadened?

I dented my identity to see myself. Way back in may, I decided to follow my belief, for a reason. Though the coin flipped rendering the belief blind, I’m looking and giving myself a chance to experience the difference. And the change is: no hair, no moustache. Call it a dent! I have to justify this. [another excerpt from ‘Waking Life’: You haven't met yourself yet. But the advantage to meeting others in the meantime is that one of them may present you to yourself. Examine the nature of everything you observe. For instance, you might find yourself walking through a dream parking lot. And yes, those are dream feet inside of your dream shoes. Part of your dream self. And so, the person that you appear to be in the dream cannot be who you really are. This is an image, a mental model.]

A woman talks about Benedict Anderson's view on Identity:

Well, he's talking about like, say, a baby picture. So you pick up this picture, this two-dimensional image, and you say, "That's me." Well, to connect this baby in this weird little image with yourself living and breathing in the present, you have to make up a story like, "This was me when I was a year old, and then later I had long hair, and then we moved to Riverdale, and now here I am." So it takes a story that's actually a fiction to make you and the baby in the picture identical to create your identity.

And the funny thing is, our cells are completely regenerating every seven years. We've already become completely different people several times over, and yet we always remain quintessentially ourselves.

Hmm.

The day has come

Last day. I have to do it... I have a reason...

Fitting fifty?

I see a blogpost with the lamp of a question mark

I have been on a journey since 27months. The day I put my thoughts on screen, I thought I’d be looking at something big. It really is too early to see where I stand. I realized I just found my roots and it will take long to make them grow. I have tried to be one of the weirdest guys on the blog, I have made posts that seemed crazy but, to be honest, I hoped the reader would read and reread my posts, noting all the italics, letters in bold, accents, quotes, spaces and the one-liners and anything that looked irregular. If I need to grow as a writer or simply a blogger, I need to be honest with what I write. I have never flicked anything from anywhere. If I did, I happened to give the source and the reason for doing so.

“If there is honesty in my passion, then the passion grows.

If there is truth and sense in what I love, then I’ll get close. “

- rajeev. to myself.

Close to what I wish to see, what I wish to have. Along the journey, I have read articles and other blogs that influenced me; there have been quotes and stories that inspired me. I [deterministically] feel all the sayings are in place, that come out of experience, experience that comes out of love or hatred, pain or gain, and they need not apply to us. That pushed me to write something that would stamp my name, my own self. And I also realized for the own self to get going, one needs favoritism or criticism. Either ism drives me a mile ahead. And for that, I have had a few people reading my blog [though sometimes I had to push a few of them to read.]

It’s time I acknowledge a few, for one reason: This is my 50^th post… yes; I have stopped fifty times along this journey. Or have I moved fifty times?

My brother, my sister and my bhabi[they have been amazing], Akshaya [no wonder], varun [for obvious reasons], karthik abhiram [who balances work and passion], shreyasee [who manages to read even the weirdest posts], sushma [who believes my posts deserve special mention and that I have to continue writing stuff that needs ‘thinking’], Ashwin [who manages to praise my blogs no matter what the content is], Vijay [who spares time and puts in all the pain to read my posts], Ravithej [who reads and reads] and last (but not the least), deepthi [who managed to support me since the start until I hit a writer’s block].

As I treat this post as my first pit stop, I hope to take off with posts that matter; Tearjerkers or funny tales or just life.

At the blogpost that reads ‘50’, I ask myself: fitting fifty?

Some of my picks from the last fifty posts:

0. Hercule poirot: the drawing

1. Don't talk, just burn out

2. Hogwarts Wizard

3. Tintin and Snowy: the drawing

4. Phewmore

5. Pokemon

6. A tale of tales (by far my best)

7. Freedom Writers

8. My Doll (my first poem, a special post)

9. Calvin and Hobbes: the drawing

10. Rash's luck

11. The Simpsons: the drawing

12. Staring at bla[n]ckness

13. Senseeing

Strike!

Death[s] in the next lane!

I have little to write now. My hands have been shivering terribly since a few days. There have been three strikes in the last three weeks and 10 deaths! Lemme explain:
1) I was riding my bike when a guy(right in fronta me) toppled,rolled over and... Severe injuries. It could have easily been me...
2) I was waiting for a bus along with my mom before dropping her at the railway station and a guy was hit by another and...the guy broke his leg,he split his feet, bone crushing and...Leg's beyond repair...
3)The news of a psychopath in my area who had already claimed nine lives.[link] and the latest is a man who lives right next to my lane! And he has his own violent, gory and.........ways of taking lives! That makes it ten.

2008 sucks! Never at peace.

Grotesque. Who's next!

Travel Bug

Comedy Of Errors

Well,it has been a day of pain! I wonder why my stomach hates me. Probably 'cos of the medication I have been on since a few days, I just couldn't manage sitting in office, even my PM pitied me :( . Amidst all this, there was total comedy of errors. A colleague of mine called me up and asked me a few sites to book tickets for bus. I knew he actually booked his return train ticket on the 20th of july from hyderabad to chennai. What went wrong?any change of plans?I asked and he said ya i'm on bench, i'll be taking a month off :P, he replied. what! I exclaimed. the problem was the girl he was travelling with, booked the return ticket on the 20th of august instead of the 20th of july. lol. and she made the same mistake thrice while booking online. poor girl, chitti as we call her. So there was total chaos. Well! I made a similar mistake once. I booked a ticket to B'lore for 10am instead of 10pm [eventually missing it that day]. The similarity between these two errors was 'desperation'. I was desperate to meet a dear friend while they are desperate to come back to chennai and work! [oh btw, i managed to go by an unreserved bus back then. to all the junta: If there is any unreserved bus from anywhere to somewhere, then pl don't take it unless you have someone special to meet ;)]

Vibrations bang on again...

Hands for light

SunSheen

Take me away for
There is little light here.
Gimme the sunshine for
The darkness to clear.

Take me away to
Escape the devilish sneer.
Take me away to
fight that haunting jeer.

Bring me home for
A break to restore me.
Bring me home for
Witnessing that lost glee.

Bring me home to
Seed a new day.
Bring me home to
Be happy and gay.

Vibrations

Toast for Change

Ok. I admit. I flicked this title from ‘Freedom Writers’. Don’t blame me; I’ve hit a ‘title block’. I’ve kept my creativity in store for my next project :P. And I see this blog has taken a shift from my regular writings to regular writings [daily-activity based]. Well, I have a plan in mind, to write something big, until then I decided to see myself posting to keep myself occupied. Worssht part: I’m in office right now with my project left aside for this post [:|].

Why is this post called ‘a toast’? Yes, july 12^th, 2008 was a day to note. I was in Queensland, Chennai, an amusement park. I was actually taken there by my training-batchmates :D very concerned you see. [I refused to go initially :|] Amusement park brings back some fond memories [new year ’07, Hyderabad, I was in a similar place]! I was reluctant to step in, with water, rides all around me. nostalgic![My friend says such recollecting/memories are called ‘vibrations’. Oh!] The difference was: there were more people this time. Friends who appeared close.

It was a decent day until I went on a cable-car ride [second time after hyd] with a friend and he bugged me to click pictures. 5MP cam put to use after long! This ride was longer. My friend says good for couples :P [sigh!, he didn’t know I was with a girl last time on such a ride ;)] and then I refused to go on other rides. Nerves! :|

It was all fine until I got into water and had the best time swimming on my friend’s back :P. it was pure kiddish-fun. Jalakaalatalalo… blah blah song. I got in with my gifted contact lenses :D And then some water-slides.

Here comes the best part: lunch and guess what! I was fed :D by two girls. And then there was cup-corn, I was fed again :D I’m a kid I say. Aah! Somebody cares. Then there was normal waiting for people to flock and get back home.

And then it rained… but my vibrations still remain.

!

Down...

Climbing the Ladder

It sounds so weird but i haven't seen any guy's emotional graph go up and down. the funniest thing is it stays down for a long time until the guy goes to his room and sits with his friends. A friend says this is just a phase while the other says aaj pooja kal koi dooja before the third buttts in and says ladki ki tarah mat ro re ***** . Taxing! really taxing! I have written many posts on emotion, he should have read them! His Business analyst happened to read his___ bhari kahaniyaan on the office blog and it did not take him anytime to guess what the situation was. agle din uske mohalle mein aishwarya aayi he said. :O the guy found himself restless, dumb and had neither an answer nor smile. He just misses the loving paradise past, the entity that created it! Like akshaye khanna in DCH says 'is mitti ko dekh rahi ho?jitni hi kas kar pakadne ki koshish karogi,utni hi aasaani se haath se nikal jaati hai' [similar lines]...

Numerous things have happened.I was watching this all through with the guy living within myself!
It's been exactly a month since a major change happened. May be i should try writing more stuff.
I got influenced watching 'Waking life'.Click to check out the script. I love being weird!

The reason for this post: Another day in Paradise! Definitely not...

Akka: Don't hate me for being so sensitive. You know me!

Monotonous?

Day before to Yesterday...

Work will grow on me. shortly. As the pressure mounts and expectations heap (assuming there are expectations), nerves begin to tighten. ‘?’ OMG there are chances of paralysis. You never know when you actually cross your threshold until something happens. If you are rightly experienced there are chances to reduce the fatality to a danger! Nonetheless there is risk at every walk of life.

It is weird and gets annoyingly monotonous to hear people say ‘learn from experience. Learn from mistakes. Time heals everything. Everyday is a new day. Practice makes a man perfect. Be brave, face your fears. Forget the past, concentrate on future!’. … aah! how easy is that!

We constantly live in fear (rooted deep within: you never know what might happen the next second). Yet we are brave enough to bury it right there and plan for the future. Right approach. The inner strength oozes and probably that is why we exist. We are going to decay in a few years from now. But are we giving up?

Noted. There can be motivation. Say ‘oh yes. Right!’ and blink. Blink several times to realize we are still here.

But..Wasn’t 'yesterday' a future for the 'past'?