Its 11:30 now according to my computer and before I am through with this post it will be 2009.While people are bursting crackers, thronging "happening" places around the city, partying, dancing and getting sloshed - all in the merriment of welcoming the new year I wonder what "change" the new year will actually bring in for me. Oh yes, I know I sound like Ebenezer Scrooge, miserably wringing hands at the utter waste of human enthusiasm in celebrating something which is as obvious as the passing of another year but the type of mood that I am in these days, I sincerely admit, " I can't help it".
So, if this seems to be too morbid a post for 'you' ( yes, you - the person at the other end of this cyberspace staring with disgust at this 'depressing' rant) pray do 'redirect' your attentions to someplace rosier or less gloomy to ring in the new year.
It will only get downhill from here.
People say that one becomes philosophical only when one has all the time in the world to do so and not a thing to care for in life, or, when unknowingly one attempts to take refuge in it to stave off stark and unpleasant realities. Realities which are in a state of flux before they settle down, consolidate and then invariably stagnate in the hope of attaining permanence someday. But, I have never ran away from reality, of that I am sure. Yes, I have never jumped out of my way to invite "innovation" into my life but then, I never thought it was necessary. To me, the word 'permanence' bears an inexplicably pleasant consonance with meanings as disparate as stability and strength and I was always afraid that a little tugging and pulling, a little experimentation with its form and format would snap that delicate balance. Forever. I have always abhorred the thought that one day I would come back to a place, a person I so loved once and find it/him morphed into something or someone completely unrecognizable. I can almost sense how it must feel for a man with eyes to reach out for something he expects at a familiar place and end up groping in thin air, with the lights all on and glaring; to feel the cruel joke of "sight" and its attendant ironies. When people around you change, one by one, you start to question if you are the same person that you have been all these years or who you thought you were. It's a strange feeling to look at your own shadow sideways and see it moving farther away from you. It's almost what people call an 'out of the body' experience.
You start asking questions to yourself :
Shouldn't you have changed for "convenience's" sake too ?
Why isn't it that easy to be pleasing yet indifferent?
Why couldn't you have had that smile of tacit approval even if you were incensed inside?
Why did you "always" have to act yourself?
These are some of the questions with hundreds of others that I intend to find answers to this new year.
I know that this could have easily been the text of a letter to my best friend and not a midnight rant with pretensions of being a meaningful discourse published in the true traditions of shameless exhibitionism. But, I want to look back at this post whenever in the coming year I find answers to any of my questions and reflect on " What else..." rather than " What if..."
I had never made a new year resolution in my life before this.
I intend to start this year.
For the patient and the kindred:
Wish You All A Very ENLIGHTENING New Year - 2009 with all that's Lovely and Precious.
May all that you wish for long for you instead.
Peace.
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Friday, December 19, 2008
How much are you worth this night?
In coins and crumpled notes I count
The leased out pleasure of your arms
And lights that waver off your face
No shame, no haste
No pride to lose
That never was for yours’ to be
But for us to own and kill
And stab into our flesh in glee.
I can’t make out your smirk from smile
Which stems out from some putrid depth
That owes some of itself to me,
The other half to blurred out lines
Of fate and life and health that run
On your palms that now are mine.
I think I will just hold you in
Or look into your eyes to see
That hint of pain, that trail of love,
And who blinks first, you or me?
The night is wilting, slow and still
As withered petals float in air
I find myself, as if in dream
Sleeping mired to your hair
Last night I bought a part of you
When you drew the curtains close
Unknowingly, I sold you then
A part of me I never chose.
Monday, December 08, 2008
Power-FOOL People
It sometimes feels silly how we all revel in the "sense of power" that we think we wield in our tiny little spheres.
This feeling that makes us feel worthy, formidable, respected and more than anything a little "powerful" is much like a heady drink. But not knowing where and when to stop pushing the buttons can only hurt one's ego. And 'powerful people' generally have a 'super-strong EGO'. And a hurt ego is like a festering wound. It never heals, no matter how much time has passed or how much rubbish has been heaped over it, just to keep it from surfacing every now and then. A strong ego along with a strong memory is recipe for "injury" - A injury which never heals and in many ways is proudly self-destructive.
Again, there are people who feel "powerful" just by being manipulative. They think they can prevail by the virtue of their high office alone. "Bosses" are often labeled under this category. But out of the hundred odd whose future this 'one' boss smugly believes himself to be fashioning, sitting in his plush cabin, there is always one who takes it all with a self-assured smile that indicates that 'the legacy of feeling falsely powerful' has been furthered. And the cycle goes on.
But there is a certain obvious pride in having a consistent character. Not having one only makes the associated 'EGO' look out of place and ludicrous.
As they say, somethings are just meant for " Neighbour's Envy. Owner's Pride".
This feeling that makes us feel worthy, formidable, respected and more than anything a little "powerful" is much like a heady drink. But not knowing where and when to stop pushing the buttons can only hurt one's ego. And 'powerful people' generally have a 'super-strong EGO'. And a hurt ego is like a festering wound. It never heals, no matter how much time has passed or how much rubbish has been heaped over it, just to keep it from surfacing every now and then. A strong ego along with a strong memory is recipe for "injury" - A injury which never heals and in many ways is proudly self-destructive.
Again, there are people who feel "powerful" just by being manipulative. They think they can prevail by the virtue of their high office alone. "Bosses" are often labeled under this category. But out of the hundred odd whose future this 'one' boss smugly believes himself to be fashioning, sitting in his plush cabin, there is always one who takes it all with a self-assured smile that indicates that 'the legacy of feeling falsely powerful' has been furthered. And the cycle goes on.
But there is a certain obvious pride in having a consistent character. Not having one only makes the associated 'EGO' look out of place and ludicrous.
As they say, somethings are just meant for " Neighbour's Envy. Owner's Pride".
Wednesday, December 03, 2008
Blog Make-over is the new Cosmetic surgery for the Poor
As an acknowledgment of the present monotony in my life I took an entire day just to change the look of my blog.
The lessons taken (once again, as this is its 2nd time since its birth) from the exercise are as follows :
1. You get to know how difficult it actually is to get your blog a "make-over". Hats off to people who endure that kind of ordeal to change their own look once in a while. And hats off to those cosmetic surgeons for their effort.
2. For a technically challenged individual like me it was a learning experience of sorts to actually change the XML/HTML codes of the template as there were lots of "trial and error" involved. One cannot afford to be complacent as the harvest of so many hours of ennui and inspiration over the last two years run the risk of getting obliterated at a single wrong click.
3. The choice for the new skin (or template as they call it) of the blog is of pivotal importance. It must preserve its previous identity while giving the general impression of a resurrected facade. And choosing a template, keeping in mind both these factors, necessitated an expedition covering 20 odd sites, 3 trials, one mistrial and finally "the eureka moment" accounting for 4 hours, 175 MB and 1 packet of Good Day biscuits in the bargain.
4. The template-switch process can gobble up your entire blog-roll and sadly the same has happened to me. The easy-to-remember/curiously named/old favourites/recently book-marked links(URLs is the more technically apt word, I learned in the process) are all that I could manage to reinstate, albeit after taxing my flagging memory for quite a while. To my other good blogger friends, whom I might have missed most regret ably amidst this confusion, I ask for some time before I can retrieve their links by means as inept as random blog-hunting. In the mean time if some of them happen to chance upon this "redone" blog of mine I would be glad to get back their links....errr.... URLs.
The lessons taken (once again, as this is its 2nd time since its birth) from the exercise are as follows :
1. You get to know how difficult it actually is to get your blog a "make-over". Hats off to people who endure that kind of ordeal to change their own look once in a while. And hats off to those cosmetic surgeons for their effort.
2. For a technically challenged individual like me it was a learning experience of sorts to actually change the XML/HTML codes of the template as there were lots of "trial and error" involved. One cannot afford to be complacent as the harvest of so many hours of ennui and inspiration over the last two years run the risk of getting obliterated at a single wrong click.
3. The choice for the new skin (or template as they call it) of the blog is of pivotal importance. It must preserve its previous identity while giving the general impression of a resurrected facade. And choosing a template, keeping in mind both these factors, necessitated an expedition covering 20 odd sites, 3 trials, one mistrial and finally "the eureka moment" accounting for 4 hours, 175 MB and 1 packet of Good Day biscuits in the bargain.
4. The template-switch process can gobble up your entire blog-roll and sadly the same has happened to me. The easy-to-remember/curiously named/old favourites/recently book-marked links(URLs is the more technically apt word, I learned in the process) are all that I could manage to reinstate, albeit after taxing my flagging memory for quite a while. To my other good blogger friends, whom I might have missed most regret ably amidst this confusion, I ask for some time before I can retrieve their links by means as inept as random blog-hunting. In the mean time if some of them happen to chance upon this "redone" blog of mine I would be glad to get back their links....errr.... URLs.
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