Sometimes...

Sometimes you don't really know the reason behind certain actions of yours. And that is when certain movies, certain other people and their actions make you realize how similarly confused we all are.

Today, like many days in recent times, made me think and probe within a lot more. I was feeling highly volatile the whole day- mood swinging like mad monkeys from tree tops. Certain things, certain people, certain thoughts trigger such an avalanche of emotions within you that one moment seems way too atomic to comprehend the entire thing. And so I need time, to sort out those million emotions that were born in a moment, like mustard seeds popping out of a badly opened packet.

Time is something I have no idea how to manage. My expectations from myself, from this all-new tag-attached life here has only made me involve myself in way too many things. Being the Lady Oliver Twist that I am, I keep asking more out of life, out of time, out of myself.

I need my rudder, my anchor, my steer that could probably signal meaning to me. Life seems like a long stretch of days- with some wonderful education, heaps of growing up and maturing and unlearning. But there are also days tucked in between- ones that make me feel anything between crabby arthritic senile old lady, nagging woman-of-the-house, bossy disgusting know-it-all to lonely whimpering immature blubbering idiot.

With all the spirit I can gather within, pushing away all the deep longings of one look at home, one hug from family, one walk with my sister and one tryst with Chennai, I surge on, with deep faith in all the decisions I have made. They have only been reinforced by this place. I'm only more and more sure- with each passing day- that the moving images I decided to flirt with, were the most compatible life partner I could have chosen for myself.

But doubts raise, with fleeting footsteps- about how warped this place can get sometimes, how insanely competitive and evil people can get and how disgusting life can turn out to be, if only you give in to its wily luring cries.

Directionless, but with instinct to prompt impulses, I carry on.

Happiness, after all!

There are moments your dads just embrace you with their words and make you feel so good about being their daughters. These are pretty rare moments really, because, contrary to popular opinion, I AM an Amma's child. It has always been my amma who has supported all my whims and fancies, despite knowing that I have a tendency to the excess.

My appa and I have always been very attached to one another. We have been friends more than anything else, just like my amma and I. We fight, we bond, we team up against my sister or my mother, we talk electronics and gadgets, we discuss science with great interest and he's someone who has inspired me a lot.

But somewhere, despite all that, I have always thought appa never really encouraged my endeavours and never really cared for what I wanted. Praise from him, was always valued. Amma knew, intuitively, and she is my pillar of strength, the biggest support and a person whose capacity to love, patience, spirit and brilliance I want to emulate. Appa was this person whose genius I admire, experience I respect and whose sense of humour I laugh over. But somewhere, being the white elephant child that I am and also with my varied interests and extreme enthusiasm, appa and I have always had our differences of opinion.

So when that day, just after my jury, which went really well, I rushed to the phone to call amma, who'll KNOW how much this meant to me, who'd feel the exact happiness like I did and who'd be delighted over it! I knew she could be trusted to buoy up my ecstacy. I asked her to pass on this news to appa, as I was sure he'd be happy, but not absolutely sure of how much it would mean to him. But when he called back almost instantly and with such enthusiastic happiness, gushed his congratulations, the delight I knew, could not be worded.

For, the man who told me it wasn't wise to chase films, who provoked me saying it is high time I get a job, and who also laughed at me for being a fool to give up architecture- finally realised how much this means to me. And humbly, with great love for his daughter, he sweetly called and chirped in his happy song to me.

It meant so much, I'd be mad to attempt to write it. It jerked hitherto invisible tears into my eyes suddenly.

And today, when he once again did a similar sweet act, I realized, maybe it was just a fear that his child would be hurt-that made him oppose me. And when he said, an hour ago, that he can see me go places, I had happy tears once again and a new dream rooted itself deep into my heart. It is not just for the mother(and sister too), but also for the father that the movies shall be made.

Appa, I'm sorry, if I have ever been horrible to you. But you know I love you!
Amma, I love you for what you are and what, I know, you'll always be! You're simply wonderful.
Swethu, you're perfect and even a thought of you makes me long for home!

It is delightful to be alive!
God bless the world with such happiness!

At 2:21 am on a Thursday morning

As a string of poplar Bollywood numbers are belted from a party in one of the hostels, I am, in the light of my table lamp, tapping the keys of my laptop. My roommate is tossing and turning, unable to sleep with all the crooning from the speakers and all the sing-along voices. The typing isn't helping either.

It is not that I particularly have anything special to say. But a sudden seizure to write just broke over me. Speaking of seizures, I've been watching a bit of House M.D. lately and I can't wait to find the loser who deleted it from Unsecure so I could feed him to those scavenging kites that circle the Eames Plaza!

I've had an 'avial' day with a bit of every thing thrown in to flavour it. Work went fantastic today. Whether or not the final product is good, bad or ugly, we had great fun trying out the different lights and positioning them. I felt like a kid with a newly opened Lego toy box.

I LOVE Cinematography. Maybe only after direction and writing, but in a special way. There is something that light and darkness try to tell, and capturing them and sealing them on a midget sized device forever still seems to fascinate me.

Maybe the undying kid in me is helping me in this field of cinema. It talks to me and makes me write, draw and make shots that excite me. That excitement- I never want to lose. Irrespective of the end product(judgement is anyway so relative in everything), I hope this excitement never dies.

I am glad I took this course here. I was delighted today when I could intutively feel a few things about lighting dawn on me. Architecture, maybe has a say in it. I always used to base my designs on light and free-flowing spaces. So to a certain extent, the physical quality of light is something I seem to be picking up fast. The technical aspects, is where yours truly stumbles. I just DON'T seem to have a memory to retain it. Internet, thank god, was invented, and so was Gutenberg's press, and I'm glad both have been a part of our history.

I am hoping to experiment with my 'Lightening'- my very ordinary camera- this weekend. I have no idea if I would succeed. Things just crop up dime a dozen and the KMC has been tugging at my sleeveends from when I landed. I need to pay obesience to that love of my life and run my hands across the stems of those wonderful books. And as always, I want to think of all the great thoughts that have completed the space between covers...I want to dream of all those torturous times those authors must have experienced before shaping this beautiful thing...it is so lovely to be in a place full of books!

I miss 'My Shrine'(my personal library of books not-open-to-public or friends. I don't believe in lending books to people generally as they never return/take care of it like something precious!). The pain is sometimes so unbearable that it gets almost to a level of a physical ache at the tip of the fingers!

There used to be days when I used to take out all the 400 odd books from the shelf and arrange them all back in, after cataloguing the new ones. Oh! Such fun times! I miss doing that. I wonder if me and my shrine shall ever be reunited forever. Maybe when I build that dream house...

I seem to be in a really dreamy state right now. So many expectations from myself, a few from the world at large, a huge craving for Andhayug to happen and a hope for the role of the Old Mendicant. Plans plans plans and more plans for my life as a filmmaker and creator of sorts(my jury had a good dig at my partiality for this word. Lol!).

I can't wait to learn and begin work. Short films for kids, Travel docus and programmes, telefilms(I LOVE this concept! Not too long, not too short! JUST right!), reviving Doordarshan(maybe!), teaching art and film, writing endlessly, ahhhhhhhhh!!! Life is soooooooooooo full of endless possibilities!

I am blithe! :)

God bless the world with dreams. I think as long as we are, as Willy Wonka would say, "the music makers and the dreamers of dreams", all our troubles, somehow, shall just fritter away!

Ah! To be alive! :)

(P.S: Randomness, yes! :P )

Musings

Where did all those fairy dreams and hopes go? A tiny shoot-ling of cynicism has crept inside and established its roots like some old tenant claiming the house for their own!

There used to be a time when I could just let myself berserk and dream on and on with such vividness and conviction! Growing up has somewhere or the other, left a little singe in the end, a few black spots on my rosy glasses, marring my visions.

Once in a while, unknowingly out of old habits, the spirit just takes off on a mad unmanned flight into the limitless cosmos. And then, for those few seconds I experience once again, after eons, that pure feeling of unquenchable happiness.

But they are only sometimes. Even for a die hard optimist and humanity lover, it does get hard to live with both of the above at a stretch!

Growing up isn't half as fun as I thought it would be. And honestly, I had never wanted to grow up, really! So even the meagre expectations lay cruelly crumpled.

well, work stares ahead, motivating me to the unknowns ahead.

Good luck, good people!

This moment

Weirdness.

Afloat in some limitless universe.

A Bottomless pit receives.

darkness that can be worded not.

a shameful feeling of loneliness

in the opening paragraphs of life.

Eye full of searchlights scanning the skies

In the rhythmic clatter of existence

wanting a momentary pause of meaning

space-expanding or contracting

never stagnant-same.

never embracing the whole in perfection.

Give me back my rainbows

those lyrical melodies that were sung within

smugness invade again

this wandering hermit to peace.

Scrapbook for Sistah!

Random pages from the scrapbook I made for my sister's birthday.

Mahabharat

This series was done as a part of the play "Andhayug" that NID's Khel is putting up, with Arshia Sattar at the helm and Mallika Sarabhai's 'Natrani' supporting us.

We were asked to express in words and/or images what the play meant to us. This was my expression.
It is done on an 8-folded A4 sized sheet of paper. The first image is the front cover and the fifth is the back cover. You unfold it once and image 2 is what you get. Unfold again and the third image emerges. Then you open it completely and the fourth image appears on the entire span of the sheet.

I'm doing a series of these 'handouts'(if you may call them that), as part of my self-sponsored "The NID whim"! :D (No no! No one commissions me to do anything these days! :P)

"The NID whim" is a series of things, NID inspired, that I propose to do. That place has been, so far, the greatest inspiration in my life. And all the things it is inspiring me to do, shall be categorized as part of 'The NID whim' project.

NOW

Visions of the blind kingdom,
ideas to doodle,
books unread,
verses framed in the head,
a little longing,
smells of home haunting,
wishes waiting in line,
broken piggy banks,
a dream to live

Time must be a liquid! It totally evaporates. Especially around the weekends, it gets highly volatile. Sometimes you wonder... maybe it is solid, 'cause it congeals and stagnates...and of course then sublimates and disappears into nowhere! Or maybe time is just gaseous, keeps moving on all the time, as it pleases, as the wind blows it away!

Dada hari ni vav

Trickling droplets from some broken gargoyle-faced gutter, pierced the silence with its crystalline clarity.

Silence. This place was benevolently bestowed with silence, only to be enhanced by mild insect sounds and one's own footsteps.

And when it rains... the symphonic downpour echoes off from the time-washed walls. Every kink of stone etching bounces off the rhythmic sound and the place reverberates with a music, fit only for gods.

And two lucky mortals, who decided to sneak into this heavenly brewing of music on one rainy evening witnessed sights of ethereal quality.

Light and shadow seemed two lovers in disguise. One hiding from the other in haunting nooks and the other seeking it, drawing it out with an arrogant possessiveness.

As the sun sketched its route across th amber skies and clouds erased it with their dirty black rubber markings; as small drops of rain huddled and poured in pellets, light and shadow had a romantic tryst.

Birds called out from crevices unseen, egging one to find out the other. Behind a pillar, beneath that arch...they were playing all over.

And there was none to disturb their solitary romance until two mortals dared to walk in. Even then, they invited them into their game, wrapped them in a spell of silence, rendered them speechless with the beauty of their selves and made them stunned as prisoners to their bewitching game.

***********************************************************************************

Human hands had crudely scrawled a name in charcoal across those stone walls that were gently handled by the hands of time.


***********************************************************************************

Someday in those days of yore, a young lady must have walked in by moonlight, through the unguarded portals of the royal vav.

Cautious, coy and trembling with the fear of rebellion, she must have walked down, one step after another, anklet sounds resounding in treble its soft whisper.

Eyes alight with the prospective joy and feet suddenly throwing caution to the wind, the lady must have flown down those last few steps with an urgency that beauty must have triggered,

A hollow pit of moonlit water must have reflected in her beady eyes.

Slowly she must have begun to undress before her eyes met those of a handsome stranger. Her clothed beauty was unbearable to him, where could he muster enough strength to see her naked self. he had made himself visible, leaving the refuge of the pillar where some beautiful sonnets were being penned in praise of the moon.

Their eyes must have met and drawn meaning from one another; for suddenly they were strangers no more. Time stood still, reason lay dead, there was something too beautiful for even a poet to capture.

He must have tried to walk towards her and she must have walked a little away. They must have played this game of hide and seek for seconds, minutes, hours... or maybe years!

They must have continued and time must have hidden this place from mortal eyes, lest they spoil its sanctity. Love consecrated the monument. Things must have stayed still. For when my eyes first galloped across every inch of wall, every little carving, it told me the tale, of the beautiful lady called light and the handsome man named shadow and how, they continue their beautiful romance within...


***********************************************************************************

(This was written as part of our editing exercise's documentation process. We were expected to go visit places that we would like to document and write about it. This was the immediate response I had to the place- Dada ni vav, Ahmedabad.)

Observations

Sometimes, when there is so much work to be completed, when deadlines loom large, a sudden urge sprouts and pulls you back and makes you want to go crawling to that earlier self.

The self that wrote reams and reams of trish-trash as it called its writing!

The pen seems so alien sometimes what with cameras and lightmeters and reflectors replacing the soft touch of a plastic...sometime metal body on the fingers, gently carving out lines with deep black ink on to a stark white surface.

Time here, has bribed hands that work the clock, to move quicker than it ought to! The only writing I manage to do is when some random thought seizes my entire being and paralyzes me for oh-but-just-a-moment. And the only writing I DO is to quickly type it down on the 'Notes' folder on my cellphone(which, for the record, has been named 'midget')

I miss the time I used to steal off for myself back in the past. Two months into this place, I'm living life like never before, finding people, carving space, exploring, discovering, scared, happy, annoyed, lonely, ecstatic- everything! But me-time is almost reduced to nothingness and today happens to be one of those super-rare occasions of a few 'blissful just-me hours'.

Apart from the teensy-weensy promos I made, which were mere explorations at stop-motion animation, I explored and read blogs of a few of my seniors here at NID. Somewhere down the line, I'd let myself forget how much I looked forward to this wonderful place. Aided by what happened the week before and a strong bout of homesickness, I almost stopped appreciating the beautiful fact that I'm actually leading the life-of-my-dreams!!!

Their blogs reminded me of the kind of work that we are encouraged to do here and suddenly I realized that my own voice has grown stronger over the past two months. I've explored more of my life, learnt so much, doing things I've never done before and slowly getting to know more about myself!

This is just a thank you note to the fellow NID junta whose blogs I hopped over today(Mini, Shreyas, Arpit, Kaveri,Kaveri's Art blog, Kabini, Reddy, Abhimanyu) and the cosmos out there to have revived what I almost let lie dormant!

The jealous goddess shall be served at her altar more regularly! The writing shall keep coming!

*happy kid-like grins*

:D

Never gone!

Dear Cumbum thatha

You'll never be gone for me. I can still hear echoes of your voice calling out to me. I don't really comprehend where you've gone or how I can never see or hear or hold your hand again. These are emotions I am not familiar with.

This is the first time someone from my immediate family is leaving me. I never thought it would be almost like a near-death experience in itself. I can't understand why, how or what the purpose of everything is anymore. It just seems so weird.

I'm numb sometimes, crying my heart out at others, and at other times, I can't believe I still do normal things- like brush my teeth, have a bath and eat. I can't believe that we can still continue with our lives so, when you are gone.

I can never see you again! I can't believe we wont have our mock-fights. That you'll never force me, verbally, to eat curd. I wish you lived, with complete health, to see me make something out of my life.

But your health failed, you became frail. I guess somewhere the family expected that in a few months or years, you would leave us forever.  But nothing prepared me for that call in the morning. I couldn't understand it. That was the strangest news I've ever heard.

Cumbum thatha, who will I talk to fondly, about our dear town- Cumbum? Who'll I bug to quit smoking?

I wish you had good health and didn't suffer so much. I wish I could have done something, anything to make you have some wonderful months before you had left us.

But I hope now, like they say happens once people die, you've been released of all pains and illness and are once more the strong man I greatly admire.

I wish I had told you how much I admire your strength! Your life fascinated me and your struggle reminds me that I need to be strong now, more than ever.  I need to fight it out and pull through, for myself and for you. To make you proud of me, wherever you are.

I wish I could hold your hand and tell you we will always love you. You are a wonderful person and will remain so forever. I just hope you have been able to forget the last few months of pain and confusion.

I shall always remember you by the way you called us 'konde', that lovely voice on the phone telling me a 'hello', all your friendly back-slapping, those numerous card games we played, your amazing cooking, your infinite love for all of us and a million things more.

You are never gone for me, Cumbum thatha. Death will only bring you closer to me. Be by my side always. I love you.

Sandhya

Sounds from the native land

As I sit in the FVC Studio, a place where my discipline-mates barely/rarely frequent, on a day when I'm not exactly blessed with the best of moods(moderately homesick, missing UG-college friends and other Chennai friends a lot), suddenly I hear Tamil songs playing from somewhere and a random male voice humming and singing along!

However regionalistic that sounds, it felt like home suddenly! And it was a nice warmth that spread through my heart. The sounds from the native land seemed to be visiting me and assuaging the lack inside in a very calm comforting way.

And one after another, that stranger(or maybe a friend) has been playing familiar favourite songs! A part of me wants to just run and thank him for that good playlist and his unplanned thoughtfulness. Another part of me did not want to ever go find out who it was- and stay in the beauty of the moment- strangers reaching out in a strange manner!

Somewhere I feel better, thanks to "Azhagana Rakshasiye", "Kangal Irandaal", "Sundari Neeyum" and "Pudhu Vellai Mazhai".

:)

PANGS!

Pangs.

Deep deep pangs.

Wishing for home

for familiar ground

for some whiff of kaapi

for mom's lap

sister's teases

dad's friendly fights

everyone's comfortable silences

and those loving familiar faces

A deep need for home

for those old dear things and places

Suddenly

severely

And yet... life tugs you back to reality

and makes you realize

that this, my dear, is existence for a few borrowed years from home.

The life so far...

Is nice

very interesting

vibrant

active

But the sights and sounds of the old haunt me.

 

First pangs of Homesickness!

It is simply a wonderful feeling to be typing away from an i-Mac that has the best of speeds when it comes to the internet, sitting in the IT lab of the college-of-my-dreams!

One really can't ask for more.
And so, one stops talking!

:D

Let life just be this way forever I wouldn't complain one bit too.

:D

Painting my life

A tinge of deep blue. Freedom and limitless possibilities.

A dark brooding red to hold hostage all the inner faith, ideals and dreams with a steely glint.

A lovely stream of yellow to paint a fiesty streak of happiness.

Black to remind me of the responsibility and talking seriously of restraint.

White for all the discovery yet-to-come.

And a lovely green to talk of the past and go back to it every once a frigid winter or a probing autumn strikes the soul.

Paint my life, for in some ways, I'm living it anew!

:)

...and when it rains...

 It rained here today, a roguish rain that didn't want to pour but didn't want to merely drizzle and die!

It guffawed and gleamed and set in the wind to come swooshing behind my ears and sing in dulcet tones of every rain I'd lived through before and remembered.

Trivandrum. Around 1995

A trip to Veli beach. Gray sandy beach, a gray sky to match with. And an endless Arabian sea. Rain. In little soft drops, like the ending notes of music...a trace of zari at the skirt ends of pretty little running girls! Green and brown coconut trees swaying to the music of the wind...

Lonavala 1997. Train.

A long winding train. Playing hide and seek with caves. 'Taal' playing in my old green Walkman. Rain. Mountains that touched the sky providing a backdrop. Strangers-all of us in the bay- but sharing a common few seconds, staring out of the window at those gray clouds and mighty mountains and the lush green. Somewhere near Lonavala, when the chikkis came to haunt, there was a picture perfect moment. The image- still fresh in my mind.

Bombay. 1997.

Shopping for shoes near Matunga with an aunt. Braving the crowds, battling the slush. Drenched from head to toe. The howling winds freezing us to the marrow. And the first-and self-imposed last- of a high-heeled sandal!

July 2007. Delhi

India Gate. Long sticks with swirls of shocking-pink cotton candy stuck on them. Two sticks for me-one for each hand- to feed my greedy mouth. Eating in turns. Steaming biriyani, sitting on the lawns.

Rain...

One plastic ball. Football in the rain. Seniors. Juniors. Friends. Foes. In unison. My sandal comes off my feet- a new football for them. Funny scuffles to get them back on to my feet.

Photographs from beneath umbrellas- as if taking something from the rain in stealth. Happy faces.

Marudamalai, Coimbatore. 2007.

Hill top. Swirling skirts of women's sarees. Dupattas wanting to fly off in the wind. Family. Importantly, cousins!

Cloudy skies. Wrathful winds. A divine presence hovering about- that which I can't see or feel inside the sanctum sanctorum. I look up at the sky. Power. Might. Bhakthi.

A wind strong enough to lift us up and throw us into nothingness. A quick urge to let go of the little childish hand that grasps my hand to leave everything and dare the wind to whisk me away.

A cave. A sanctuary for a sage. A strange story. Visions of voodoo. Mysticism. Vermillion, ash and turmeric. Big round beady-black eyes. Fat red beads. Tongues red. Eerie.

Mild rain. Soothing. Calming. making me believe once again...

And a taxi ride home...

Okkiyam. 2007-08

A rickety green Madras local bus. Half past seven in the morning. Window seat. Endless Old Mahabalipuram road. Trees with airy needle-like leaves. People waking up from slumber. Gray blue skies. A sheet of rain. Skies that look like they hold within a deep secret.

Somewhere, humanity must have had a whisker of a chance at unraveling the deep mysteries of the universe that day. A beautiful house...and suddenly... the Okkiyam Lake. A faeryland. Druids and pixies and brownies morphing themselves into tall trees and forming a circlet of vigil around the lake...like a crown on the crest of the head. Such perfect beauty. Tears in my eyes.

My Balcony. 2008

Inky blue night. Some unworldly guests to the heavens above earth. The skies were decked up with a gloss unsurpassed by anything before. And suddenly, it rains. Feet propped up on the balcony sill. A plastic chair puffed up with pillows. Music in the ears. Loud singing-along session, tossing off all worldly cares and societal stares. Bliss. Freedom. Expression. Relief.

Yercaud. 2008

Nine in the night. Wild bison on the prowl. A brave taxi driver and a brave guide to escort one suddenly brave and reckless family of four. Mother.Father.Sister. Me.

Pitch darkness. Pagoda Point. Stones placed on one another like an Indian Stonehenge of sorts. Drizzle. Lightening. Thunder. Glimpses of a faraway temple. Light shimmering like jewels from the valley below. Scary. Humbling. Brave. Brilliant. A moment worth dying for.

My Balcony. Today.

A bowl of mango-banana fruit salad soaked in creamy milk and served chilled. Wondrous music played to suit the mood, by a kindred spirited sister. Rain falling...pattering...pelting...and pouring!!!

On my eyes... on my cheek...on the bridge of my beaky nose...caressing...teasing...taunting...playing...

Wind howling around. Reminding me of every rainy day I've lived through...

Redefined

With a flavour so ethereal,
inherent with enticing charm
gentle, mild!
yet viscous and wild
slowly easing out
from time's old caskets
evoking the surreal
the vintage
the romance of it all
one stir, one swirl
and memories as thick as time congeal
and then crumble to dust

all the wait ended,

you, in your rich hues

let the past to diffuse.

A new adornment-

an answer to patience;

a flair that belongs to none but you.
And suddenly what you are now-

old wine in a new bottle
is all that remains relevant.

To bring to you a smile

What must I do, dear friend,

to bring that mad smile on your face

Should I sing in the most off-key of voices

or make faces, that amused you those days?

 

You're the childhood friend I never had

the twin-thinker that I cherish, glad.

It hurts to see you down and low

and putting life on pause and going so slow

 

Have you looked lately into the mirror

to see those eyes gleaming

with all the world's talent

and intelligence, beaming?

 

Dear kiddo-friend, I hope you smile

I wish I could bring it back on your face

and erase those clouds that haunt your eyes

and get the happiness back to your gaze.

 

Smile, for life is yet to come

and whatever sorrows knock today

shall pause to teach

but hurt you, nay!

 

Smile, for your future stretches ahead

with loads of promises, success in its tread.

 

Smile, for we want you to smile always

as we know you that way and want that all through the days!!!

 

Technorati Tags: friend,smile

bleargh-2 within minutes

WHERE is everyone when you need them the most!?

NO! NO ONE will be there!

THAT is reality.
Bites!

Crabbity-babbity!

I want chocolate
or chick-flick
or candle light bubble blowing new year
or a bunch of long stemmed yellow roses
or a nice big warm hug in person now
or some great news to feel elated(new news)
or an orange Popsicle
or a tyre-kuchchi running on streets of Cumbum

I want something NOW!

I'm just so blah with work and isolation!!!!

BLEARGHHH!

Life-1

(words that came out of a chat conversation at 2:30 am with a dear friend!)

"There are no ifs and buts in life"~ Sunil Gavaskar

He used that sentence in a match,during commentary and although I don't remember the match or the date or who was playing against whom, that line stayed with me all through.

It was beautiful and very very true!

What you make out of your life- only YOU are responsible for it. There's no use saying "If only I had used up that opportunity", "If only I had not got myself into that mess".

They wont change things.

YOU decide!

One needs to be a decisive person, else, it's worse than death.

Inactivity eats away happiness like that worm that gnaws through your books. You wouldn't know or see a thing till it leaves behind that deep gashing hole...words eaten up...important words...whole chunks!

Scary!
The story makes no sense anymore!
And the same applies to life...

Music and inner peace

 

There really is nothing I want more than a good song~when I work. A soul is at peace and the mind is working properly when there's great music playing in the ears!

Honestly, no matter what happens in life, I guess as long as I find a song to go with my mood, I should be ok. I know that sounds darned weird and downright dumb, but it is true. When you actually discover someone has a song that's just-right for the moment, it gives you such a fellow-feeling with the writer, that it makes you get excited about it no matter what!

It's like discovering that your roommate also loves to drink tea at midnight and follow it up with a nice conversation for an hour or so! How delightful does that sound!!! :D

So, as I've been doing the trims and the fillets and the mirrors on CAD, music has been playing in the side. I've just begun to try out different kinds of music. The prudishness in the head has been facing a melt-down for the past 5 yrs. And slowly but steadily, I've become a big fan of English movies and a select genre of English music. In the sense, the genre is not your rock, hip hop, jazz kinds.. in fact I don't recognize any genre except Jazz(and I LOVE it!!!). The genre I'm talking about is the kind that comes with some great lyrics and a wonderful tune to go with it, backed by powerful vocals.

Be it off-beat like Baz Leurman's(I hope I got your spelling right, dear fellow crusader!) 'Sunscreen' or the ever-favourite 'Hotel California'(Thanks Varun for telling me about the supposed Satanic verses and getting me curious about this song! :P), nice chick-music like 'Holding Out for a Hero'(Frou Frou version) or good old Animated music (Aaliyah's "Once Upon a December" from Anastasia) to the most wonderful music from the Classics like Audrey singing 'Moonriver' or Nat King Cole going a soulful 'When I fall in love': I am transported!

Some songs, like Moonriver, Vienna(Billy Joel, I worship thee), Rainy Days and Mondays(Carpenters: Karen has the most wonderful voice!) and Only Hope(Mandy Moore) have me listening to them repeatedly!!!

I might STILL have a very restricted knowledge of English music, but I love the ones I listen to.

Thank god for music! It helps me retain my sanity and ah... before I forget, gifts me SUCH a lovely feeling about life, that NO MATTER WHAT HAPPENS, I'm made happy in a jiffy! :)

Good old music.. what would I do without you?

:)

DREAMS

Dreams...

flitting across like flies

hovering over my head.

 

Some-pretty; and let off to pass.

Some fanciful and extravagant,

and stopped with a swat!

 

Insistent

Persistent

Repetitive, some dreams.

That can't be let go or stopped

that are like mosquitoes-omnipresent

gently sucking your blood

while you notice not

and on leaving

a pain sharp and biting, brought.

 

Multi-coloured dreams

fluttering around

wings and stings

beady eyed and black

wispy, fragile and also not!

DREAMS

Dreams...

flitting across like flies

hovering over my head.

 

Some-pretty; and let off to pass.

Some fanciful and extravagant,

and stopped with a swat!

 

Insistent

Persistent

Repetitive, some dreams.

That can't be let go or stopped

that are like mosquitoes-omnipresent

gently sucking your blood

while you notice not

and on leaving

a pain sharp and biting, brought.

 

Multi-coloured dreams

fluttering around

wings and stings

beady eyed and black

wispy, fragile and also not!

SEARCH

I seek

I look

I search the skies

 

Where are the answers

the visions I was promised by and by?

 

Something of a smile vibes with me from above

full of some secret happiness in store

 

I wonder if it is once more imaginations' power play

or the firs of many truths that unfold?

...and when it rains...

The Cloudy skies...

They call out to something

deep within me.

 

What visions that rise...

from the depths of the being;

what visions now belong to me!

 

Eyes searching the firmament

gray, black, inky blue,

promises gift-wrapped in a bundle of colour.

 

As glints of light glimmer from between the folds

and clash with one another

with bellowing war cries

erupting from raging wars,

blue hits gray

black dispels them both.

 

Shiny tears of a wailing war-hating woman

descend to drench us in their sorrow

with plaintive tones for accompaniment.

 

Scary, thrilling, beyond mortal vision,

the world that benevolently hangs above

has tales, hidden, mysteriously unto itself

glimpses of which we snatch when it rains...

VOTING

Today happens to be the the Lok Sabha Elections 2009 Day in Chennai. On a wonderful and as-usual long conversation with friend, philosopher, guide and fellow traveller on the path of life, Varun aka Dodo, these discussions stemmed and both our gray cells got working.

The following are a few sentiments we both jointly express and wish to see being implemented in our beautiful land.

>>> We as citizens should rather than discussing whether to vote or not, get ourselves to educate the rural folk about the workings of democracy and prevent them from getting enticed by free offers and subsidized rates.

As a country, our strength lies in the villages. People there, in most villages, are in an abject state of misery. They fight for basic sustenance and any offers of free goods and low prices are what would help them survive.

In such 'survival of the fittest' situations, an intelligent man's strategic propaganda will make no sense! What they want is their rice and bean and their vote shall go to the very parties that promise these.

What we must do here is to make them understand party politics and get them to see that it is of no long term solution.

One must get down to the so-often-mentioned grassroots and educate the poor to realize and recognize the power they hold and get them to use it wisely.

>>> Instead of complaining that the educated don't vote, find newer means of getting them to vote.

In a fast-paced world where almost all the educated and working people fight for seconds to relax, asking them to vote, in a land where no dramatic good has happened since independence, is near-futile!

Half of our learned folks are abroad and the rest are too caught up with the work-whirl to take time out to vote.

Facilities like SMS voting(free) and Internet voting facilities should be made available to the public.

Like an ATM card has a secret PIN, every Voter's ID no should have an associated secret PIN number, that could allow the access of the person to vote from anywhere authentically.

This shall see a definite and drastic increase in the polling percentage and lead to, hopefully, better governance.

>>> Make certain public services, compulsory for all the contestants.

The contestants of a particular constituency/region, should be made to do public awareness campaigning for a month before the elections. This is to spread general information about elections, politics,etc and NOT about their party.

In this period, the contestant shall be allowed only a restricted number of helpers who can aid him in his work. He needs to make sure he reaches out to every single locality in person and not by proxy. Organized street-wise/locality wise meetings should be organized and door-to-door spreading of awareness should also be executed.

Although this seems like a tough call, one feels that it is of utmost importance for hierarchy and power-play to be destroyed, and a person-to-person contact and humanitarian considerations to be immediately established.

>>> Improve Organizational efficiency and destroy hierarchy

In India, one sees people giving undue importance to power and position rather than ideas and skills. What one must realize that although age, experience and position may make a person better equipped to take decisions, it may not necessarily be so! Also, a person who may not have any kind of power to make that decision can definitely come up with a better solution to a given problem and has to be respected for it.

Governance is for the better functioning of the land. Due to these mismanagement and disorganization issues, we see even the little good that could reach the people, going horribly awry!

 

***

When all of the above are executed, there shall definitely be a visible improvement in the scheme of things and we will actually be able to establish a better rule over the country.

We wonder if ever these shall actually get implemented. But with all the kind of restrictions that the present situation poses in the form of work and education, this is the little way we are trying to reach society immediately.

Do pass on your suggestions, opinions etc on this issue through your comments.

And, DO exercise your vote.

You'd rather have voted than let someone else, misuse your vote to gain their selfish means!

 

Technorati Tags: Voting,elections,Loksabha 2009,India

DREAMING... ;)

There are some wonderful reasons I have to dream about. So many things to look forward to that I'm scared. I know this too shall pass- all this bountiful beautiful happiness is, but momentary. Mundane reality shall set in its routine ways very soon.

But at the end of the day, I can't stop myself from letting that little hope-bud from raising its impish head from the very bottom of my soul! :)

I'm trying hard not to hype things for myself, not to build a lovely dream only to just see it remaining so for eternity.

But the ways of the mind are as yet a puzzle to the world and no matter what, it stubbornly entertains itself and refuses to let go of me. The dream seizes me with such a power and a promise of forever happiness that I succumb to it.

Yes, everything is just momentary. I am telling myself that.

But that dream of that wonderful wonderful time ahead... those little bits and pieces I string together to make a patchwork quilt-o'-happiness in my head... oh it's just so beautiful, I wish it would become true!

Here's giving some little sugar and some more spice to that dream and hoping, whatever happens, happens for my best and the best of everyone!

:)

The Dreamy Dryad

PS: I love life, and now, more than ever! :)

*winks

A little scribble on the scroll

"To the Fringed Gentian"

Then whisper, blossom, in thy sleep,
How I may upward climb,
The Alpine Path, so hard, so steep,
That leads to heights sublime.
How I may reach the far-off goal,
Of true and honoured fame.
And write upon its shining scroll,
A woman's humble name"

I have quoted that poem over and again in my blog as I guess, in all that I've read in my life, those few lines have the greatest meaning.

And today, loads of those vision-clouds have been swept away by time and sense and I stand happily, having added the first scribble on the shining scroll of life.

It has been sheer torture living through those days of waiting. But now, a great sense of purpose has emerged.'

I'm happy! :)

And it's such a fierce happiness that I'm not really showing its nature in entirety to the world. Somewhere I like holding things back to myself, these days, rather than grabbing a trumpet and blowing it loud. I'm just making a small audible sound! :D

Life has changed so much over the five wonderful years I've spent in under-grad college here in Chennai. But I'm glad to be letting go of the city and embracing a new one for the next 2-3 years.

God knows what they hold for me. It's the first biggest challenge I'm going to face. It might be a piece of cake or might scare and taunt me. I'm curious to begin.

Life, although has put a small little pause button and is forcing me to finish up all the dirty work here and then fly off.

It's scary, beautiful, dreamy, alluring, independent and simply the most inspiring thing that has happened.

I wonder what lies ahead.

But I just am happy as can be!

Thank you everyone and everything and every power for this. I deeply cherish and appreciate it.

I will not ask for anything more in life, like I said.

:)

Humbly,

ME :)

The Metal that hasn't been named

There is a metal that hasn't been named. It has not even been formed yet. It's basic properties are well-known. But what form, shape, destiny it assumes is still not clear.

For the metal to be named or to be stashed off and categorized as non-metal, it needs to go through a process. That process just got over. And due to reasons best known to the lab and its resident experts, the report isn't out.

Till then the metal sings to itself, in a very Margaret Lawrence-y tone(refer to her poem 'Am I a child or an Adult?' here)

Am I a metal or a non-metal

No, not a metal anymore-my shine is gone!

My crystallized world has melted away

I am amorphous, I understand non-metallic sounds

But does that mean I am a non-metal?

 

(OK OK! I give up. I'm just suffering from a self-declared case of rapid cycling bipolar disorder. May be a temporary phenomena. But well.. depends!)

Days: in and out

How differently every day starts and ends. What does a day think when it begins? Does it think of being nice, being evil or just in its droll way, deal out a fair share?

So what do I have at the end of the day? Just a whole pile of unfinished work. A million unfinished conversations. A thousand held-back thoughts. And some more silly fancies to kill in my sleep and wake up chiding myself for being such a fool!

Why? Where have those delectably long days gone where I could decide what course it would take? Where an idle hour of blissful lonely walking could well be tucked in along with all the movies and oh.. the pile of books!

Why has this silly old computer suddenly become more important than anything? And why has it become the tool of communication, business, work and even such pleasurable acts like writing?

Oh! Once more a million questions confront.

And like I said, so does the end of the day.

*************************

I have no idea why I'm blogging so much. Too much creativity oozing through. Too much computer time, desperate need for distraction.

*sigh*

Overwork and some mind-wanderings

As they've stated umpteen number of times, when there is plenty of work at hand, the mind generally rebels and refuses to do work like a snobbish girl asked to clean toilets!

My mind is in such a fanciful world, especially after the rich treat of 'Rose in Bloom' by Louisa May Alcott. The book just about gave me a new soul to call my own. It injected in me happiness and more old-fashioned virtues than Alcott could have ever imagined to sow, so many years later, in one of modern day's creations!

I've been termed 'Victorian' by quite a lot of people and I take a secret pride in being so. Old-fashioned values and principles are what I set for myself and have, thankfully, withheld to, all along. Books like these, just reinforce the faith in yourself and make you want to plough on in the hard path in today's fast times. all the more.

I have just so much work on my plate and as is wont to happen, creativity just refuses to walk along with me. My mind has frilled fairy wings right now and wills to take flight into those wispy arenas of the sky, where I suspect dreams wander.

A foundling called hope, that I had kept ignored and fettered all along, miraculously released itself and is circling around me in the primitive happiness of new-found freedom.

I feel a new joy that I hadn't known so far. This joy I last felt very long ago. But it is not a joy stemming from any external source. It is from deep within- like a secret song whose words nature taught just to me!

There is just one reason to this joy. I had misplaced my key to happiness in one of those many baggage we carry along with us. And all of a sudden, I realize, it was in the folded palm of the other hand that was not searching.

Well, Í DID require all the searching and grief for this unbridled joy of today.

After all, "We are the music makers and we are the dreamers of dreams"

:)

With great happiness,

The Dreamy Dryad

Point. ~the Ezinetter. Issue 2

Open publication - Free publishing - More travel

Point.~ The Ezinetter. Issue 1

Open publication - Free publishing - More inspiration

A little time, maybe...?

Give me a little time, maybe, to figure out the million things within, in isolation. Yes, it is the person who loves the world and all its people who's talking out here. But then, in all that din, the voice within has become obscure, the soul within me- missing.

Meaning, I need meaning in life. And I'm searching. Worldly ties, responsibilities and routines peg me down to the floor and curb my flight to freedom.

I wish I could escape and go for a bit of soul-search!

I'm glad a place like the terrace exists... where I can head for some peace, loneliness and thought.

Where am I going?

I've no idea where I'm heading in life. Here and there, i see hope and faith and some self-encouragement driving me onwards in this vague path. But more often, it is loneliness and fear that walk beside me.

I wonder for how much longer this uncertainty is going to be. Yeah, I'm sure there are people with worse lives, darker futures and all. But at the moment, I'm so selfishly coiled that I can't quite think of the rest of the world.

I need some light in the future. I don't care about anything but I really really want to do some work that is meaningful to me. I feel like I've barely done anything in the 22 years of my existence. I really hope I don't turn out to be a failure.

I do wish sometimes, due to all the self-imposed pressure for success and society imposed pressure to prove my worth, that I'd been born a dumb girl! Now really! It makes life a lot easier. Some guy would have fallen for me for sure(as they generally hate the intelligent-independent kinds as a rule), I would have batted my eyelashes and I'd have been married with a kid on the way or some such thing.

But I HATE that. And I am so independent(or atleast wanting to be). I'm a bright kid and I so want to make my life and not settle down for just anybody or just anything.

Sometimes ambition is the very thing that brings you down. Like today- I can't settle down for anything but the best out there. I work so hard, I better get what I deserve- is what I tell myself.

But honestly, i have no idea where anything is going. I'm so confused. I know EXACTLY what I want. But no matter how hard I try, fate plays spoilsport and makes situations so un-conducive for it to be mine.

I'm scared that might happen once more. And only I KNOW how important what's ahead is for me. I just hope and pray that I get it.

I wish some light is thrown in soon. I know I've had a much better and blessed life than say a few million other people. And I'm really genuinely thankful for all that.

I just wish I get this course I am asking for so sincerely. Honestly, it's not much and I'm not undeserving either.

Please God, or whoever it is that decides things for me, please make me get this. It matters a whole lot. And it is really not nice to torture a person so much. There's only so much a person can take. and I'm nearing my saturation point.

bleargh

yeah yeah! yesterday I was RAAAAAAAAAAAVING about happiness and stuff. Today, SOOOOO many of my plans went haywire that I'm feeling bleargh.

God... please make everything-to-be, WORTHY of all this.

I'm woozy!

I don't care if I'm dieting!

I don't even care if I'm as girly as girly can get!

I'm going to celebrate the completion of The Princess Diaries with bread and Green Apple jam squeeze and chocolate sauce! Yes! RICHHHH and calorie-high food to celebrate all the mushiness and wooziness that I feel!

:D

Owwwwwwwwwwwww!

That was the most delectable and I-can-relate-SOOOOOOOO-completely series that ever existed in contemporary times.

I just worship the book and weep when Mia does and laugh with heart-glad-happiness when she's elated.

Omigod! I'm SOOOOO sad that the series ended, albeit in the BEST possible manner.

Forever Princess was the BEST book in the series and I absolutely LOVED reading it and was reading it with manic obsession.

I love the world that it sets- where things, even if they go horribly unimaginably wrong, just miraculously patch up and it ends in the most fairty-tale-ish way possible.

I wish...

Ah well! Michael Muscovitzes don't quite exist, do they? And even if they do, I wonder if I'd ever find one.

And Mia- you ROCK, POG! :D

A dozen roses...

 

...and a dozen roses be given to the girl

one for every virtue a woman shall need

for no more is she just a frivolous happy child

A woman has risen in her soul, indeed.

 

The little girl, I saw, I knew

whose nature and heart, so like mine, grew

A soul-sister, a twin apparition- call it what may

To that dear girl, these dozen red roses for her day.

 

Give her one rose for spirit and strength

She shall need it in the world, at length.

Give her another with a crimson soul at its core

For all the happiness and joys to pour.

 

A third rose, for faith, to preserve

to live the life that she wants and deserves.

Another one for hope to flutter

forever a chant behind her fancies, to utter!

 

Give her a fifth rose to muster courage

To fight the odds, that on her barrage.

A sixth one, for milady, for simple joys

To love the trivial, to greed- destroy.

 

The seventh rose, for victory immense,

To march forth and bridge the distance.

 

Eighth of the roses for a resilient sense

To build up her cover and keep defense.

Oh to the girl, give a ninth one of red hue!

To spread her smiles to other people too.

 

The tenth rose for kindness and truth

For a compassionate ear and a character of depth.

 

Give her a eleventh for patience to take hold

To help keep vigil, as dark times unfold.

The last of the dozen roses, for love, gift my girl,

She will see it bloom as the magic shall unfurl.

A dozen roses...

 

...and a dozen roses be given to the girl

one for every virtue a woman shall need

for no more is she just a frivolous happy child

A woman has risen in her soul, indeed.

 

The little girl, I saw, I knew

whose nature and heart, so like mine, grew

A soul-sister, a twin apparition- call it what may

To that dear girl, these dozen red roses for her day.

 

Give her one rose for spirit and strength

She shall need it in the world, at length.

Give her another with a crimson soul at its core

For all the happiness and joys to pour.

 

A third rose, for faith, to preserve

to live the life that she wants and deserves.

Another one for hope to flutter,

 

forever a chant behind her fancies, to utter!

 

Give her a fifth rose to muster courage

To fight the odds, that on her barrage.

A sixth one, for milady, for simple joys

To love the trivial, to greed- destroy.

 

The seventh rose, for victory immense,

To march forth and bridge the distance.

 

Eighth of the roses for a resilient sense

To build up her cover and keep defense.

Oh to the girl, give a ninth one of red hue!

To spread her smiles to other people too.

 

The tenth rose for kindness and truth

For a compassionate ear and a character of depth.

 

Give her a eleventh for patience to take hold

To help keep vigil, as dark times unfold.

The last of the dozen roses, for love, gift my girl,

She will see it bloom as the magic shall unfurl.

The Daily dose of Happiness~ The first weehee note

(Dedicated to friend from beyond the plateaus, Niha Masih for all her yeye-ness and random inspiration to write this)

They say that it takes all kinds of people to make the world; and god tilted the favour in terms of the jerks! And yet on an average day, despite meeting three assholes, two absolute morons, one absurdly dumb fellow and half a saint, we still feel blah.

I guess blah is the new dictator of the world. It seems everywhere; most of us young ones think being ‘blah’ is what life is all about. In fact, a conversation with a dear friend today brought about how blah we both were and how he was sinking in the blahness of life and how I’m turning out to be a blah kid.

When you actually sit down to think, on one such blah day, as to what life is and other existential questions, we find that, we really have no clue about what we are doing. Although technically we are all supposed to be beings with that extra sense of whatever (now that is another issue we need to discuss), sometimes over analysis becomes the bane of existence.

There are so many days when you just, without any purpose or point, loiter online and wait for someone to ping you; many many times when we just hope desperately someone will message or call, and there are also sometimes when spam mails of US lotteries actually lift our spirits ‘cos it is ‘one new mail’ after all!!!

So while that proves that life is indeed blah and that it cannot be lifted up, what exactly makes us plod through one more day?

Our daily dose of happiness…

And surprisingly in the modern world, the daily dose of happiness doesn’t come with angel wings and bright blue eyes.

It comes in the form of bitching together, feeling good that half the world is going through the same crap like us. To some it up- to want to know that we are not alone!

Feel-good books and saccharine-sweet stuff are all nice on the ears till you are 20. But miraculously at that age, wonder what seizes the human mind and soul, that it cannot anymore be satisfied with plain simple happiness.

Happiness suddenly becomes this multiple dimensioned entity that needs some weird chemical formula that we so conveniently forget. Either the ingredient paper is lost, or the measuring glass is broken or well, the titration JUST does not read right.

All our lives we keep hunting for this lost formula paper. And when we don’t get it, we call it BlaH- which in itself, with minor changes of case, looks like a chemical formula!

Sadly, since the entire world is hunting around for their formula sheets, we barely pause to give back the papers we found, with other people’s names in it. Yes, Ms.Li’s paper is here, but well, why do I need to find Ms.Li to give it to her? Isn’t that her whole purpose in life- we think!

And thinking thus, we walk off, tossing Ms.Li’s paper in the wind.

And someone, maybe Ms.Li, just did that with yours!

It is really a strange strange world. We get lazier, crazier and meaner by the day. And in a way we can’t influence the good deeds, we influence the entire world around us to get lazier, crazier and meaner by the day!

We get dysfunctional. We do things for the heck of it. We have absolutely no aim/ambition/goal. We just call something destination, as your college teachers ask you to state one, those annoying aunties you meet in marriages want to know or just simply because you don’t want to be the only one with no answer.

We just live the day. If we can’t- we sleep it away. We try to kill time talking on the phone. When we lose topics of conversation, we pull in a third person into it and thrash them to bits: and bingo, we created gossip.

To keep this gossip going, we made newspapers and television and now- the internet. And since all these developed, the world shrank. And instead of your neighbour’s cat and your dog upsetting your day with their fights, it is possible to hear a friend in Swaziland’s cat meowing in an annoying fashion through things like video conferencing. Wonder why we go to this extent just to spoil our moods!

We try so hard to do things. Think for instance- to impress someone. In the first place, the person we are trying to impress is yet another dysfunctional clueless entity. Why we impress, in the second place, has no valid reason backing it. And thirdly, this whole process is so based on luck, chance and those permutations and combinations that we took lightly in our twelfth class mathematics. SO much so that, no matter what you do, the numbers decide your win/loss.

There is never a rule, really. You just do things. Today, things may happen. Tomorrow, to use as clichéd an expression as shit happens, the coin may flip against you! And you’ll have a lousy day. And you’ll call up every single person on your calling list and talk vaguely about random stuff.

Talking of random, have you noticed how we all actually use such irrelevant language, leave alone irreverent too! Why should everything be random? Random is the aide of Blah, the dictator-in-the-making, with such a transmogrifying form that fits snugly into any situation. And don’t even get me started on the four letter F word that we so abuse! Everything, everybody- in adjective, noun, verb, why even pronouns and conjunctions, use this saviour-word. Our vocabulary is absolutely…well, I’ll stop.

Like I mentioned, this started from a random inspiration over IM-ing on gtalk one very dull night, when I was listlessly looking at the computer, studying a bit, chatting a bit, this friend’s pretty depressed status message prompts me to buzz her. And as randomly as it started, I began to type this out; just ’cos she mentioned that I should try to write a book.

I believe most accidents and discoveries occur that way- randomly. Life and everything about it is so random, that it is difficult for the human mind to grapple with it without having to bring in an external factor called god into the picture.

This God is readymade bait for everything- from why the shirt got singed to why it rained- he/she takes all the blame we can’t handle ourselves. And when un-forecasted events occur, it is God’s doing. Things go right-we call it mercy, and things go wrong- we call it punishment. And in this way, we teach ourselves to accept graciously everything bestowed on us.

Life’s philosophy clearly shows that more important than whether or not God exists is the question of whether or not we can exist without this concept called God. We need this entity to bring about a kind of sense into our existences. To make us believe that we have a control over events and we so know what we are doing.

This attitude, however, only sets in after heavy responsibility is dropped on an individual’s shoulders. Till then, you have ample time to question, prod, conclude. But once responsibility becomes a way of life- through work, marriage, etc-one needs this person/energy called God to tell us not to be afraid of this thing we got ourselves into.

But while we are still young and non-escapists, we go through blah, random and F-(grammatical usage most suitable) emotions, we discover absolute loneliness, complete fear and raw pain. Over time and God, we become numb.

This numbness, then leads to a kind of acceptance of life and situation so much so that, lethargy sets in, vices take root and life loses meaning slowly and steadily. This is the time of great contended happiness and some boring sadness. And as time goes by, one enters mid-life. And by then the numbing would have over-numbed itself and boredom would have bored itself so much that thinking peeks from below.

Once we start thinking and analyzing- life, career, relationships, etc- we find all the inconsistencies, the aggression, the energy and that itchy-I-got-do-something feel that people generally call mid-life crisis. You now want to rediscover, redo(sometimes undo) and renew your life.

We go through an interesting, daring and yet a wonderfully eventful phase. This is why aunties dress like twenty year olds and uncle strut around with a stud walk. And mostly, these are not to be laughed at, but lauded. It is these people who have discovered the joy of living once again. And in that freshness, happiness and pure elation, they go through the exploration stage once again.

Honestly, the next stage that follows is the happiest. Where the sense of the years and the rediscovery of the self sets in euphoria that is hard to quell. And as time slowly ticks and takes away your bones, skin and spirit, you age. You get back to losing all you gained as now, the body loses its strength to exert itself. And instead of letting the vicious circle run, this bodily loss of power forces man to turn back to its second childhood. And death.

Through all this twist and turns of emotion, it is pretty hard to also be nice to people. We have our own selves to figure out. Where the heck is there any time?

The only answer lies in the fact of acknowledging that we can never really figure ourselves out and to live the moment. Lest this gets any preachy-er than that, I stop. Also, I’m sleepy and my hand’s aching. And suddenly, I really don’t know what more to write. As randomly as it began, I conclude.

Point. is born

How is an idea born? Do some weird cells in our body get agitated due to inertia and ennui stretched over really long period of time and bubble up some liquid that energizes your spirit into action?

How does something get created? Long hours of painstaking and careful work, inch by inch, measure by measure- little insignificant nothings coming together to form one big something?

I don't know what actually made it happen, but I started an ezinette- with invaluable help and support from Arvind Caulagi and some overwhelming encouragement from my class friends.

Point. is born.

It is an architectural ezinetter. What is an ezinetter? What is Point. all about- No! I'm not going to explain. For those that care enough or just plain curious- go here and find out.

It's my baby! Go tell it a warm hi and make it believe that the world is a beautiful place after all!

:)

I've been through a whole week of intense untiring work and commitment. I'm happy with the output. we definitely could have made it better and promise to do so from now on.

But ah, for now, as they say-"the heart is so full that a drop overfills it!"

Check point. out at:

http://www.scribd.com/doc/13138809/Pointthe-Ezinetter-Inaugural-Issue