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17 days from now will mark the 3 year anniversary in Bombay(yes I prefer the B word over the M counterpart). And suddenly I feel completely spent. Although it's a momentary feeling probably. But I still can't put my finger on it. Whether this feeling can be attributable to this city and its ability to suck out the life force out of you or whether this is some part of growing old. That's the problem right...you can't perceive parallel existences to pick and choose the best one out of it. It's always gonna be the something that you can't exactly opt out and have a say in.

The problem is the social equation is slowly losing relevance. And the relevance is being lost mostly because of being knee deep in it. I'm unable to experience a life without the social connection. And its weirdly asphyxiating. I weirdly long for an isolated existence again. And the problem is I've been here before. It's actually the loop I was in before I got to this city. And when I got to this city I spent the most loneliest times ever. Living alone in one room drinking myself to sleep...eating food at the corner of a table at some small restaurant every day. And yet when I moved to a place with actual human beings I longed back for isolation.

It doesn't actually make any sense. Cause theoretically the state of loneliness is way awful and social situations are still a challenge that can be tackled in a way. Isolation is freedom to an extent...but then later you feel the need to express your feelings to a person.

The debate of staying in the city can range from the topic of isolation to the importance of marriage in a society for me. And the fact being that on paper social presence does have way more advantages  than isolation...and yet the grass would always seem greener on the other side. It's got to an endless debate mode now and it's starting to get tiring. The even more catastrophic part is that I'm in no need of a conclusion in any way. I really can't figure out whether it stems from the sheer laziness of proactively approaching the situation or the idea of closure is a scary prospect as finally in some way it would drain the ultimate need for a debate and consequently end in an existential crisis.

I still can't grasp existentialism. I really am in an oblivious world for now. And my main mission is to be completely drenched in work. Thats the only saving grace at times. I like working, I don't necessarily like my job. I like the busy aspect of it in which your mind seems focused and deems emotional equations secondary. It's like I'm building up to be a robot. But somehow I'm looking forward to that prospect.

The concept of love and longing is slowly again losing meaning for me. It's pure emptiness I feel. I hope someone enters my life and changes this perception. But till then I'm an arrogant prick who knows that these are hollow empty promises that people keep. Pardon my acute cynicism but it's my bubble that I've pumped air into. Waiting for it to metaphorically blast soon.

I still can't narrow any of my decisions down to final point. But my escapism seems so lucrative right now. The thought of running away to another life seduces me. Even if the other life is practically shittier. It's this feeling of pure escapism that actually scares me at times...it feels so natural that at some point it feels emulated. A paradox in a way, but yet, it is what it is.

I'm draining of reason right now and relevance has slowly been lost. It's probably the 3AM morning I'm typing this at the prime reason.

Well no one knows yet. Nobody would have an answer.

We. Are. Alone. 

Cyclic

Morning. Alarm goes off.
Multiple snooze abuses.
Moments later you grope for the light to shine in.
Pupils adjust to the sudden rush.
Contemplate the day in a few seconds.
Generalize the day in terms of good and bad by the way you wake up.
(Wrong side of the bed maybe?)
Am I late? Rush.
Am I early? Sleep more and get late. Time does know how to fly in hibernation.
Brush. Feel the few neurons of your head get stimulated with the acidic "freshness" of your toothpaste.
Stand beneath the shower like a frozen statue feel the cold water trickle down your body.
Stand. Dry.
Ready.
Turn to the watch. Seconds passed by.
The rut of commute. The desensitization of long minutes/hours and the dense populous contorting inside boxed wheels.
We suffer, yet we barely know it...conditioning matters.
Rut in the office.
Work. Sit. Yawn.
Count the productive gaps and the "breaks".
Prepare charts and sheets.
Type like manic fanboy in front of a screen.
Clickety click goes the fingers tap in synchronised choreography of eyes following the mouse.
For a moment the second hand of the analog clock freezes when you notice it. Physics?
Wrap up. Contemplate the day that just passed as the totality of your existence.
Have I made a change to this world today?
It's the way home but there's no drive that makes you want to necessarily go there.
Yet it's a race and reaching early can be an achievement unlocked.
Wading through traffic of humans and cars. Millions around but this story is about you. The one you.
Wipe the last of the plate onto the sink...taste buds confirming the repetition.
Its a symbolic representation of the day coming to end. The music diminishes gradually to a lull.
Feel constricting time quickly tapering off any sign of quivering activity that would act as an unforeseen epiphany. Life changing?
Lie in bed. Evaluate. Question self worth. Deem yourself lazy.
Tomorrow will be a better day.
There's a rockstar ending to this and it's coming soon. Isn't that what stories teach us ?
The senses shut down. The world around whizzes to a black point.
Fin?

Deja Vu

You want to find differences in life. Variations. You're in a constant search for them.

I thought we get bored of stuff easily. Hence our intense fascination to move on to different things always remains. But then our brain wants simple diagrams...simpler structures to work on. It wants to boil down every bit and byte of information processed in the cortex to churn out cognitional understanding.

Boil it down to the basics. But there's the path of least resistance. We want to go by it....without straining ourselves. Without burning out. Ease out. Relax...slowly let the subconscious take most of the load. That's where the repetition comes in.

One Fine Day

So what is it that makes you human?

Your emotions. Your tendency to react. React in what seem to be the predictable patterns graphed out through the years that are said to be human psychology.

What happens when you don't react to what you're supposed to.
Or react in a manner totally unexpected.

You're inhuman.

We are scared of things beyond comprehension. Hence when things don't go according to plan. We panic. Coz there are no contingency plans. Its sudden and harsh and unplanned. And that for some is not meant to be. Things have to fall in some certain groove defined by previous experiences so that some sense of familiarity works as a transitioning agent.

But then when things do not flow in a certain streamline fashion, people have to question the occurrence. Because frankly speaking...people are lazy. Mentally. Complexities force them to think. And that requires a certain amount of flexing the mental nerves in order to act.

It's like a math problem or a puzzle given to you every time. At a certain point you can derive the "fun" from it. But then your brain starts to fatigue. It need's to "cool down". And hence we have rest. Sleep or whatever it's forms. We need breaks as in to not suffer from the wrath of having a burnout.

[Written at a subway while multitasking gluttony, random thoughts and aimless plans for the day/night]

What have I become?

Blog Spasm

There might be a few things which fascinate you in life and hence motivate you to wait for the next day before you sleep. Pray for it to come soon so that you can embark on another eventful day.

Would that be a complicated day ?
Does an eventful day have to be related to complications ?

As it is said people do want a simple life and want to live freely and in a land of peaceful bliss. But then what.
Consider you have all that you want. Lying near the beach just relaxing and knowing you have to do nothing to earn money or respect. You're full of it. You run out of challenges...then what?


- Random Thought after a long time

Had to post something to keep this blog alive.

The Last Snore Bender

There are times when life's decisions are to be made with pure impulse and instinct. When that gut feeling exudes from your solar plexus with the feeling of pure conviction. That split second thought in your head and your decisions are made. The right ones.
Then it happened.
The Last Airbender!

If anyone asked you to describe the experience of watching this movie you'd stammer your ass off since it is then that you realize you feel the complete lack of a knowledge of the sheer number of expletives you might need to verbalize your feelings. In a nutshell it's like being told by the oracle that you're the chosen one, and hence you're all happy and dandy walking down merry street. When suddenly she calls you up and adds an important fact that you're the chosen one to be taekwando flying kicked by 37 red assed baboons who are wearing spiked heels on their new shoes while kicking you in the balls. Oh, and plus you're naked. That's when you tell the oracle what to shove up where.
The only difference here is that there was no oracle. The kicks to balls were much of a surprise.

When last year the promos for the movie came out, I was in awe. I waited like a 16 year old twilight fan who waits for edward cullen to sneeze in her general direction just to share something 'personal and intimate'. That's when the posters and the trailer/teasers looked compelling.

Now how cool is that!

The story is based on a popular nickelodeon series named Avatar:The Last Airbender. Now since Mr.Night Shyamalan knew he'd be thrashed big time if he went head to butt with James Cameron for his monster 3-D epic, he removed the 'Avatar' from the title and thus saved himself from a T-1000 attack.

If it is any consolation to you, even jake sully found the movie repulsive.

Jake Sully's reaction on The Last Airbender

The story revolves around four nation Earth,Fire,Water and Air nations living in harmony till the...wait for it....THE FIRE NATION screwed things up. Some shit about the spirit world and this world and that world. I'm sorry but I couldn't make out from the people snoring in the theater. Hence people need the airbender called the avatar, who can bend all four elements. He is thawed out from a 100 year cryogenic slumber by a water chic who can 'bend' water and the comic(?) sidekick dude. Now the trio stir shit up freeing people from the enslaved fire colonies because they want to restore balance to the world, save the rainforest or some such shit.

[Interjecting comment:
Q. How did people know Katara(the water chic) was pregnant when she was bending water?
A. Her Water Broke!
]

Now the avatar kid hasn't done his training yet. So he needs to learn how to bend earth,fire and water too. The Fire nation don't like that so much. Coz that would lead them to this :



Fire, Air and Water...check. Guys I need some earth now please!

So the fire nation wants to stop the kid now and bag him so they figh. Blah Blah. The spirit is killed...love is sacrifice shit...i have no clue. I think they could've finished the movie a bit earlier by introducing captain planet fucking shit up and teaching you about proper garbage disposal and recycling.


The guy who made me was seriously color blind!

Still if you do plan to watch the movie I would suggest you watch the 'deadly tape' from The Ring. At least you get a 7 day notice. Hence that relatively would be a slower death than The Last Airbender.

I leave you with Haley Joel Osment's famous words on watching the Last Airbender:


I see dead people...but it's better than watching this movie!

20 seconds

When there’s a gun pointing to your head, you realize how meaning springs into your life. A sense of predefined purpose which was lost in all the cacophony of living the life “they” wanted you to live. Can you still comprehend what the true desire is? Would you know what you and only you wanted to do in this life. Do those things that come purely from your own desires, without any influence from an outside force. Can you feel the individuality of your purpose?
When there’s a gun pointing to your head, do you feel the insides crack? You feel your arachnophobia or the agoraphobia is now invalid. You are embroiled in the totality of fear, ready to defend your own self from any pinprick of unseen circumstances. Fears melt down to one single existence. The perceptions change from a person who took life for granted to a person who feels the extreme importance in those imperceptible things, the ones that do not come within your definition of life. The little things you tend to miss out while compressing your life in a few flashes before your eyes.
When there’s a gun pointing to your head, what difference does it make? Your hollowed existence sticks out to scream at the insufficiency that you led till now. You never tasted life. You kept it on the side so that you can build and keep building more structure to your life, so that at the end of it all when you feel you have earned it…that’s when you indulge. But why wait when the reward is right in front of you? Why toil to earn it? Do we need to be awarded tokens of acknowledgment from what others think of us? Are we that dependent on others in shaping ourselves? We fail at living. Coz we forgot what it means. It’s now a memory beyond recall. Maybe.
When there’s a gun pointing to your head, whom do you think about the most? Do you think about the love that filled your vacuous existence? Do you think about the ones who loved you? But then why would you think of anyone but yourself. Why think about those who are soon going to be memories? To cushion the oncoming blow by the memories that you thought were “unconditional” and “pure”? Is it that hard to not see yourself reflecting on each one of your actions? To verify how unconditional they were and measure the magnitude of purity that was so obvious. It withers away. It’s not the cynicism, but the harsh reality that you can only be the one person. The one and the individual! Only one.
When there’s a gun pointing to your head, how many questions tend to…
“Done thinking?” The gunman smiled.
“I don’t…I….Not quite.” I stutter.
He slowly moves his hand with gun in his firm grip. His hand slides to his left still in the air. His sleeves flay in the violent wind that lashes the empty landscape. His eye twitches and the right corner of his mouth goes up to take the form of a malicious yet benign smile.
“Do you think this was a joke?” He yells. His face calm.
“I didn’t get the time to think about that.” I regain my ability to speak.
He takes a few steps back. The left hand was still in the air, with the gun pointing west.
His index finger touches the trigger. Even though he was far I could sense the pressure that he applied on the trigger. I could feel it as if it was me doing it. The weight of the gun was in my hand. The bullet that was lodged inside the gun was waiting. The pressure builds up. The trigger was not light. He had to bend his hand to add slow pressure to the finger. My elbow twitched. The trigger was suppressed, but only half way through. It was on the threshold of release. A door was to be opened. Freedom.
He clamped his teeth together with a look of intensity. My jaw was taut. There was an instinctive propensity to release the gun, but my hand shivered. He pointed it at me now. My hand was hovering near my head. The threshold was here. He was not. I was.
The pull was not hard. The gun was a trigger now.
Click.
Silent and Black. No vision. No tunnel.
Just a distant hum escalating as it came nearer. The Doppler.
The upsurge. The crescendo. The climax!
I fell. But I felt it. I felt the ground. All was black, but I still felt the ground.
I fell…and my left leg was the only part that was on the bed.