...or does destiny make my choices? I speculated once on whether Fate or free choice were what decided the course of our lives. I never was sure. But the more I see, the more it strikes me that perhaps choice as we define it, does not really exist. It's just a myth that makes us feel good.
I am not a believer in Fate to the extent of saying "whatever will be, will be"; I believe that one's efforts definitely are what shape the outcome, but that said, the outcomes of most of our actions seem to follow a pattern, a predetermined pattern. After all, when have we ever really been able to make a choice?
Every time I analyze any situation where I made a "choice", I realize just how optionless I actually was. The constraints make our choice for us. Whether it is our way of thinking, the circumstances, or of course, as happens so often, "gut feel". So, what does all this add up to? Simple, you never really made a real choice. You were shown a number of alternatives and simultaneously, told which one you had to take. Choice? No choice.
And there are so many times you can see it happening each day. Your mind may tell you that you shouldn't do something. Yet you end up doing it. What was that? Choice?
But can we really afford to let go of "choice" as a belief? Not really. It's something like God. It may or may not exist, yet when you're not strong enough to handle the truth (Reminds me of the dialogue..."You want the truth? You can't handle the truth!" ;-) ) , choice, like God, seems like a good support system.
Monday, January 10, 2005
Sunday, January 09, 2005
There's an Aeroplane Up In The Sky
Yeah! It's a Floyd mood. Get into these at times. Helps relieve the mind, or does it? At times I really wonder whether Floyd is my relief or whether it is what reminds me of the cage. Both in a way. How did they manage it? The metaphors, the emotions, the philosophy, all cloaked in the most beautiful words imaginable. Every song seems to have something to offer, something to make you think about.
And every emotion you can imagine is covered. Every true emotion. What aspect of life is there that Floyd miss out? Nothing. Be it a deep depression or just a plain expression of life without the masking frills. Everything is Floyd........if only I could write half as well. We all feel the emotions. Which is why we can all identify with Floyd at some level or the other. That is what makes them the band which would have influenced the thinking of the maximum number of people I know. Everyone who thinks has heard Floyd and been inspired by them......
So today, I shall just lie and soak in the words, the thoughts and the philosophy
"Did you ever wonder why we had to run for shelter when the promise of a brave new world unfurled beneath the blue, blue sky"
"The flames are long gone, but the pain lingers on..."
" Hey you, with your ear against the wall
Waiting for someone to call out
Would you touch me?
Hey you, would you help me to carry the stone?
Open your heart, I'm coming home."
"And no one showed us to the land
And no one knows the where's or why's.
Something stirs and something tries
And starts to climb toward the light. "
"Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me.
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand
The best I can. "
"And no one sings me lullabies
And no one makes me close my eyes
So I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky...."
"And far from flying high in clear blue skies
I'm spiraling down to the hole in the ground where I hide. "
"And did they get you to trade
Your heros for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?"
How much do I quote?
And every emotion you can imagine is covered. Every true emotion. What aspect of life is there that Floyd miss out? Nothing. Be it a deep depression or just a plain expression of life without the masking frills. Everything is Floyd........if only I could write half as well. We all feel the emotions. Which is why we can all identify with Floyd at some level or the other. That is what makes them the band which would have influenced the thinking of the maximum number of people I know. Everyone who thinks has heard Floyd and been inspired by them......
So today, I shall just lie and soak in the words, the thoughts and the philosophy
"Did you ever wonder why we had to run for shelter when the promise of a brave new world unfurled beneath the blue, blue sky"
"The flames are long gone, but the pain lingers on..."
" Hey you, with your ear against the wall
Waiting for someone to call out
Would you touch me?
Hey you, would you help me to carry the stone?
Open your heart, I'm coming home."
"And no one showed us to the land
And no one knows the where's or why's.
Something stirs and something tries
And starts to climb toward the light. "
"Strangers passing in the street
By chance two separate glances meet
And I am you and what I see is me.
And do I take you by the hand
And lead you through the land
And help me understand
The best I can. "
"And no one sings me lullabies
And no one makes me close my eyes
So I throw the windows wide
And call to you across the sky...."
"And far from flying high in clear blue skies
I'm spiraling down to the hole in the ground where I hide. "
"And did they get you to trade
Your heros for ghosts?
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
And did you exchange
A walk on part in the war
For a lead role in a cage?"
How much do I quote?
Saturday, January 08, 2005
Of Whispered Dreams
The past 24 hours have been a revelation. I've discovered some aspects I never thought existed. And somehow things are a lot different.....well, actually hings are the same....my perspective is a lot different. I spent the last 24 hours talking with an assortment of friends. On very different things. And yet, somehow, everything came back to the same point for me. Mentally.
Yet today, path seems clearer. The destination is still nowhere but the road there seems a lot l;ess cluttered than it was. I'm still the same. Still lost and without a clue about how to return to the place I was once headed to, the place I know should still be going. And yet, the load's a lot lighter, the mind's more at peace. And while the belief may not be there, the turmoil is lessened somewhat. For no ostensible reason, I seem a lot more calm today than I have been for a few weeks now. No legdes, no concrete ground clouding my vision. It's all flat. It may be a desert, but it's got an end.....I may not be able to see it, but even if I don't find the end, the end will find me.
Two situations. So alike and yet so startlingly different. Two phases, so dissimilar. And yet in a way, the similarity was chilling. Somehow though, I realized last night that in a way I am very lucky. There are things we throw away, there are things we fail to see, things we fail to acknowledge exist....and then there are things we misjudge. The last are perhaps the worst mistakes we make....at least the worst mistakes I make. I'm still not sure whether I should call them mistakes, but for want of a better word right now, I shall.
I'm abstract. I love being that way. Why? I shall never know. Perhaps it's the inherent fear of letting things out, the inherent fear of letting people know. Either way, it's something I can't change. There was once a building that broke under its own weight, due to its amazingly simple intricacies which ensured that a single stone could wreck it (For want of a nail, a kingdom was lost). Yet, where the edifice once stood, there still is the need to restart. Motivation is something one cannot afford to lose, even in the face of Hell itself. And yet, at times, it does get lost. Does it return? Can it return? I hope so. When? Time will tell. But there must be a beginning; ironically, the beginning must signal the end.
Am I the way I would want to be? Would I change anything about myself? Ultimately, no. I know my weaknesses. I know my failures and also know what will cause me to fail in future in certain fields. Yet, I'd rather stay this way and accept those than risk another course. Somehow, my comfort zone is too dear to me. I'd rather be alone in a room contemplating, introspecting and evaluating than risk attempting things I am not sure of in the hope that I will succeed. Somehow, that is me.......sad? Perhaps. But definitely true.
Yet today, path seems clearer. The destination is still nowhere but the road there seems a lot l;ess cluttered than it was. I'm still the same. Still lost and without a clue about how to return to the place I was once headed to, the place I know should still be going. And yet, the load's a lot lighter, the mind's more at peace. And while the belief may not be there, the turmoil is lessened somewhat. For no ostensible reason, I seem a lot more calm today than I have been for a few weeks now. No legdes, no concrete ground clouding my vision. It's all flat. It may be a desert, but it's got an end.....I may not be able to see it, but even if I don't find the end, the end will find me.
Two situations. So alike and yet so startlingly different. Two phases, so dissimilar. And yet in a way, the similarity was chilling. Somehow though, I realized last night that in a way I am very lucky. There are things we throw away, there are things we fail to see, things we fail to acknowledge exist....and then there are things we misjudge. The last are perhaps the worst mistakes we make....at least the worst mistakes I make. I'm still not sure whether I should call them mistakes, but for want of a better word right now, I shall.
I'm abstract. I love being that way. Why? I shall never know. Perhaps it's the inherent fear of letting things out, the inherent fear of letting people know. Either way, it's something I can't change. There was once a building that broke under its own weight, due to its amazingly simple intricacies which ensured that a single stone could wreck it (For want of a nail, a kingdom was lost). Yet, where the edifice once stood, there still is the need to restart. Motivation is something one cannot afford to lose, even in the face of Hell itself. And yet, at times, it does get lost. Does it return? Can it return? I hope so. When? Time will tell. But there must be a beginning; ironically, the beginning must signal the end.
Am I the way I would want to be? Would I change anything about myself? Ultimately, no. I know my weaknesses. I know my failures and also know what will cause me to fail in future in certain fields. Yet, I'd rather stay this way and accept those than risk another course. Somehow, my comfort zone is too dear to me. I'd rather be alone in a room contemplating, introspecting and evaluating than risk attempting things I am not sure of in the hope that I will succeed. Somehow, that is me.......sad? Perhaps. But definitely true.
Thursday, January 06, 2005
How much is too much?
In turmoil. These words just sum up totally what I am feeling like inside my head. It's a feeling that I am not entirely used to. I'm generally in control of what I do and am able to resolve conflicts within myself easily enough. At least I like to think of myself that way ;-). Yet, now I am feeling as if I have reached a breaking point within. I know I need to make a decision and yet I know not when to make it and which way to sway.
What is risk? And what amount of risk is enough to make you shelve a course of action? I guess every situation and every person has a different answer and each of us needs to decide where our thresholds are. If confronted with a pit in your path and if told that there was no way forward other than this.....if you knew you couldn't jump across the pit, what would you do? Would you turn around and walk back trying to find an alternative path? Would you just wait and hope for something to happen to either make the pit disappear or a new path appear or a means of getting across, whether by a miracle or otherwise? Or would you decide to try and jump across the pit anyway, hoping that even if you fell, you would rise again and climb out of it, to find another way?
If you did decide to jump, how deep would the pit have to be, for you to change your mind about trying the leap? After all, beyond a certain point, the depth itself would convince you that what you stood to lose by attempting the leap (limbs or perhaps even life) was not worth the possible benefits.....
I stand today at such a point. I know not what to do....yet I do know that I must make a decision. For the longer I defer it, the more turmoil I shall undergo......yet, the question remains, how much is too much? I shall go crazy if this goes on too much longer...
What is risk? And what amount of risk is enough to make you shelve a course of action? I guess every situation and every person has a different answer and each of us needs to decide where our thresholds are. If confronted with a pit in your path and if told that there was no way forward other than this.....if you knew you couldn't jump across the pit, what would you do? Would you turn around and walk back trying to find an alternative path? Would you just wait and hope for something to happen to either make the pit disappear or a new path appear or a means of getting across, whether by a miracle or otherwise? Or would you decide to try and jump across the pit anyway, hoping that even if you fell, you would rise again and climb out of it, to find another way?
If you did decide to jump, how deep would the pit have to be, for you to change your mind about trying the leap? After all, beyond a certain point, the depth itself would convince you that what you stood to lose by attempting the leap (limbs or perhaps even life) was not worth the possible benefits.....
I stand today at such a point. I know not what to do....yet I do know that I must make a decision. For the longer I defer it, the more turmoil I shall undergo......yet, the question remains, how much is too much? I shall go crazy if this goes on too much longer...
Wednesday, January 05, 2005
Ode to the Nice Guys
Received this in my mail. Really nice. :-D. And of course, I agree with this one totally. This chappie, whoever it is, has expressed the thing perfectly......Read at leisure....it's bound to give pleasure..... ;-)
------------------------------------
This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.
This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.
This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.
The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.
So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.
------------------------------------
This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.
This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.
This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.
The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.
So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.
Saturday, January 01, 2005
The Similarity of Difference
As someone rightly mentioned in a comment, being "different" is today in vogue. It is considered the "in" thing. But, what really does one mean by "different"? Does having a dream make one different? Does wanting to be a rockstar or a poet make one different? Not really, if you ask me. Each one of us has a dream....so having a dream is in no way a factor that makes us "different". Wanting to be a Harsh a Bhogle or a Kalpana Chawla is not being "different".
Then what is? Being yourself. Today, most of us are too caught up in being "politically correct", we are too obsessed with living up to standards we perceive as having been set.....standards that we must meet to justify our status in life. We are too obsessed with these to pursue our dreams....and more importantly, we are too caught up in this to ever express ourselves in the true sense of the word....
When was the last time you had to say something you didn't really believe in, just because you knew if you said something different, you would be, well, politically incorrect, or else, because you felt your view wouldn't go down too well.....chances are it happens pretty often...with most of us, it happens daily....several times....we must say certain things, because, well, that's the done thing.....and THAT is what I object to....why must we conform? Why must everyone think alike? Being an I-Banker in NY is to be successful. Does anyone ever oppose this in a public forum? Errrr....I think not.....not the "done thing", y'know....
Someone I know said that to be oneself, would be to be selfish. I think not. Actually, if anything, it is possibly the exact opposite. If you are yourself, you are letting the other person know just who you are. After that, at least you know that if you have a friend, that friend is yours, not the friend of that fictitious being you project yourself as. You can't let down this friend, because this friend obviously knows you and therefore knows what to expect from you. You can't betray that person's trust.....
Then what is? Being yourself. Today, most of us are too caught up in being "politically correct", we are too obsessed with living up to standards we perceive as having been set.....standards that we must meet to justify our status in life. We are too obsessed with these to pursue our dreams....and more importantly, we are too caught up in this to ever express ourselves in the true sense of the word....
When was the last time you had to say something you didn't really believe in, just because you knew if you said something different, you would be, well, politically incorrect, or else, because you felt your view wouldn't go down too well.....chances are it happens pretty often...with most of us, it happens daily....several times....we must say certain things, because, well, that's the done thing.....and THAT is what I object to....why must we conform? Why must everyone think alike? Being an I-Banker in NY is to be successful. Does anyone ever oppose this in a public forum? Errrr....I think not.....not the "done thing", y'know....
Someone I know said that to be oneself, would be to be selfish. I think not. Actually, if anything, it is possibly the exact opposite. If you are yourself, you are letting the other person know just who you are. After that, at least you know that if you have a friend, that friend is yours, not the friend of that fictitious being you project yourself as. You can't let down this friend, because this friend obviously knows you and therefore knows what to expect from you. You can't betray that person's trust.....
Friday, December 24, 2004
In The End, Does It Really Matter?
We keep "changing" ourselves. Reinventing, as it is described by people. For several people it is not as if they have changed at all. It is the effect of their peers and their ambitions. "How To Be A Good Leader", "How To Be An Effective Manager", "10 Steps To Self-Improvement". All these and more provide you with insights on what to change about yourself......or, what to project yourself as.
So what are we doing? Do we assume that there's a pattern, a formula for success and all those achieve success are virtually clones of each other? Can't it happen that I am "different" and succeed in life? Do I really have to conform at every stage? It sickens me at times to see how these things work. Everywhere you have people running around trying to be clones of their idols, trying to overcome weaknesses not by recognizing them but by trying to paper over them.
And just WHAT do these people want? What do these clones actually want out of their life? Well, if you were tto ask, they wouldn't really know. It's more of a thing of....well, the herd's running to Point X, so my aim is to get there first and be the best.....wow! Some aim...and what after that? What if you do indeed reach there? Will it really fill your heart with contentment at having achieved what you really wanted? Chances are, it won't, because you never really knew what you wanted in the first place....which of course, will actually ensure that you never will win....after all, even if you're ahead in the race, you're still a rat!
Freedom of expression and thought are really the biggest myth of our times. You have no right to differ from what the "gurus" have proclaimed, be it Philip Kotler or Keynes or Bill Gates or indeed Tom, of Tom, Dick and Harry fame. You must obey the "norms" of society. You must do what is "acceptable", you must BE what they WANT you to be....WHY????
So ultimately, you're just a confused mass. You feel one way inside, but don't dare say it openly. After all, that would be blasphemy. "God" would frown upon you.....what would "society" think? Sometimes I wonder if we ever will see the day where we CAN actually exercise our will to even a small degree.....
So what are we doing? Do we assume that there's a pattern, a formula for success and all those achieve success are virtually clones of each other? Can't it happen that I am "different" and succeed in life? Do I really have to conform at every stage? It sickens me at times to see how these things work. Everywhere you have people running around trying to be clones of their idols, trying to overcome weaknesses not by recognizing them but by trying to paper over them.
And just WHAT do these people want? What do these clones actually want out of their life? Well, if you were tto ask, they wouldn't really know. It's more of a thing of....well, the herd's running to Point X, so my aim is to get there first and be the best.....wow! Some aim...and what after that? What if you do indeed reach there? Will it really fill your heart with contentment at having achieved what you really wanted? Chances are, it won't, because you never really knew what you wanted in the first place....which of course, will actually ensure that you never will win....after all, even if you're ahead in the race, you're still a rat!
Freedom of expression and thought are really the biggest myth of our times. You have no right to differ from what the "gurus" have proclaimed, be it Philip Kotler or Keynes or Bill Gates or indeed Tom, of Tom, Dick and Harry fame. You must obey the "norms" of society. You must do what is "acceptable", you must BE what they WANT you to be....WHY????
So ultimately, you're just a confused mass. You feel one way inside, but don't dare say it openly. After all, that would be blasphemy. "God" would frown upon you.....what would "society" think? Sometimes I wonder if we ever will see the day where we CAN actually exercise our will to even a small degree.....
Monday, December 06, 2004
A Lifeless Dream or a Dreamless Life
There's a growing feeling of emptiness these days. Somehow I'm not able to pinpoint exactly what it is that is bothering me. It's a gnawing feeling that I am succumbing to a vacuum. I feel like I am being sucked into something that I do not want to be a part of, but am unable to resist. The harder I try to get out of it, the more I get pulled into it. What is more astounding though is the reaction it seems to be having on me. I seem to have become more jovial when in public. It's almost like an involuntary defence mechanism.
It all came upon me suddenly this afternoon. Was sitting with a friend of mine and we started discussing the way we see life. Suddenly he asked me what it was that made us seem like two diametrically opposite people when we essentially thought in almost exactly the same way about life. Hit me then that the only difference, if you can call it "only", is that while he is content to let his personality show, I seem to be running away from people. I'd rather let people see me as the exact opposite of what I am. I feel intimacy is the biggest weakness. But how long can one run? How long do you hide yourself?
Sometimes I feel it's just something fundamentally wrong with me. After all, why am I the only one here who is not hankering after what I term the mundane? And then there is this feeling of, "F*ck the world. F*ck what they think".
Ultimately, each of us has a dream. Each of us would love to achieve it. Some reconcile their dreams to what they term realistic. Some don't. Amongst those who don't, there are the ones who muster the courage to step away from the mad rush and achieve their dreams. Follow their calling. What about the rest? I wonder. Which path shall be mine? Or maybe, I shall be forced to be content with living a lifeless dream....
It all came upon me suddenly this afternoon. Was sitting with a friend of mine and we started discussing the way we see life. Suddenly he asked me what it was that made us seem like two diametrically opposite people when we essentially thought in almost exactly the same way about life. Hit me then that the only difference, if you can call it "only", is that while he is content to let his personality show, I seem to be running away from people. I'd rather let people see me as the exact opposite of what I am. I feel intimacy is the biggest weakness. But how long can one run? How long do you hide yourself?
Sometimes I feel it's just something fundamentally wrong with me. After all, why am I the only one here who is not hankering after what I term the mundane? And then there is this feeling of, "F*ck the world. F*ck what they think".
Ultimately, each of us has a dream. Each of us would love to achieve it. Some reconcile their dreams to what they term realistic. Some don't. Amongst those who don't, there are the ones who muster the courage to step away from the mad rush and achieve their dreams. Follow their calling. What about the rest? I wonder. Which path shall be mine? Or maybe, I shall be forced to be content with living a lifeless dream....
Sunday, November 21, 2004
Clutching At The Winds To Control My Destiny
Do we really control anything at all? We get things into our lives ourselves, or so we think. We adapt ourselves to keep what we think we want. And then can't keep up any more. The more we attempt to control our emotions the further they carry us away from the direction we are straining in. And then they interfere with the very values we hold dearest. What do you do then? The choice is one that I would want to make. Nor one that I could ever advise someone on. After all, how does one decide whether it is better to kill one's dreams or kill one's self. The two seem so inextricably entwined. Yet, try we must, to choose one over the other. After all, one cannot be lord and master of a house with two owners. Control or emotion? Could they ever go together? And though it seems so abstract, each one of us faces this at some time or the other. There are no easy answers......and no common answer either.
Floating within, trying hard to grasp,
Fingers clawing wildly for walls they can't find,
A mind trying hard to control a life,
Whose complexity a stranger tries to deny,
Tranquil shattered by hands I invited inside,
Now twisting my thoughts to bring blinded cry,
Is all that I see through the beholder's eye,
Coloured to make a cloak and lose me in time
Once alive, flying free, nothing ever denied,
Now constraints that I feel tear my frail being,
But could I ever break free from the bars,
That I made dreaming of bliss never seen,
Torn between the sky and the fear to fly,
A silent man seeks solace in arms opened wide,
But will they be yours, sweet friend of mine,
Or do I return to the cell I once left behind
Did you believe that it was me you saw,
Or just a crazy dream that you took for a metaphor,
A man of clay, just a toy that you gave,
A shape that forever your mind's desires craved,
But your world I had once forsaken and run,
For a world whose truth you now can't see,
Though at the time you seemed so true and so free,
Would you now hold that hand or divide Destiny
Meltdown threatening now, staring me in the face,
Why does it seem as if the winds whisper your name,
The way things go driving to the edge and back,
More complexities unearthed in what was so simple to start,
When letting go is not a course on my chart,
Would the tides of time heal or open a chasm,
Would the waters cause to drift or hold together,
The raft of lives and free Fate I dreamt of at the start
Friday, November 19, 2004
I Run to Stay Hidden From Myself
What does it really take to be content with where one is? A deep realization of one's being and surrounds? Or a blanking out of all that is painful? Was forced to ponder over this a few days back. A friend of mine kept insisting that I was just wasting my time by seeing all that surrounds us, because the only way we would escape the misery that is today, was by shutting out the reality when it pained and transporting ourselves to a time when aall was well and all we saw and heard were things that gave us joy....was there ever such a time?
Maybe there was. There was a time when we failed to see the things around us as we see them now. They didn't change much. We did. Our perception, our cynicism. It changed everything. Suddenly the 5-year old boy who could do Integral Calculus was no longer a genius, but a persecuted victim of a society that no longer has time nor the patience for childhood. A society where fun no longer means anything other than a late-night party at the hippest nightclub in town with a semi-nude model on your arm, all of which requires you to forsake the small joys of life......
But does that really mean I should shut myself to what is around me? Do I really need to mask reality? Do I need to live in a place that exists nowhere but in my dreams? Or can I find bliss in the truth? Would a deeper understanding not help me?
Perhaps the answer lies somewhere in between. For, one thing I do know. The once I tried shutting myself to reality, something entered and left my life, while I did not realise it. Though I may not regret that in particular, I do regret the countless other things I may have allowed to pass me by while I was stuck in my unreasonable hole.....and so, I wrote something for this friend of mine.....and hey, Neeta, this is something in which you can't even blame me for being "complex" or "high-flown"......
Close my eyes and drift away,
To places and times gone by,
Live in a world where dreams prevail,
And laughter causes eyes to run dry
Scared to see, afraid to believe,
That the world inexorably moves on,
For scenes of bliss and lost peace,
Are where I wish to ever belong
She came in like a whisper,
Her footfall I didn't feel,
Emptiness of her passing,
Is what now makes that time feel real
I shut my eyes and closed myself,
And lost what I didn't see,
For when the moment came past me again,
I knew not, for the moment I did not feel
If you were me for that's what's real,
Perhaps you'd care to see,
My future became my past,
And once again I surrendered to the surreal
Cheers!
M!
Maybe there was. There was a time when we failed to see the things around us as we see them now. They didn't change much. We did. Our perception, our cynicism. It changed everything. Suddenly the 5-year old boy who could do Integral Calculus was no longer a genius, but a persecuted victim of a society that no longer has time nor the patience for childhood. A society where fun no longer means anything other than a late-night party at the hippest nightclub in town with a semi-nude model on your arm, all of which requires you to forsake the small joys of life......
But does that really mean I should shut myself to what is around me? Do I really need to mask reality? Do I need to live in a place that exists nowhere but in my dreams? Or can I find bliss in the truth? Would a deeper understanding not help me?
Perhaps the answer lies somewhere in between. For, one thing I do know. The once I tried shutting myself to reality, something entered and left my life, while I did not realise it. Though I may not regret that in particular, I do regret the countless other things I may have allowed to pass me by while I was stuck in my unreasonable hole.....and so, I wrote something for this friend of mine.....and hey, Neeta, this is something in which you can't even blame me for being "complex" or "high-flown"......
Close my eyes and drift away,
To places and times gone by,
Live in a world where dreams prevail,
And laughter causes eyes to run dry
Scared to see, afraid to believe,
That the world inexorably moves on,
For scenes of bliss and lost peace,
Are where I wish to ever belong
She came in like a whisper,
Her footfall I didn't feel,
Emptiness of her passing,
Is what now makes that time feel real
I shut my eyes and closed myself,
And lost what I didn't see,
For when the moment came past me again,
I knew not, for the moment I did not feel
If you were me for that's what's real,
Perhaps you'd care to see,
My future became my past,
And once again I surrendered to the surreal
Cheers!
M!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)