Ignore list

"I never drink water, it is the stuff that rusts pipes" - W.C. Fields
And how many other things are you going to give up like that? Reading books make you have prejudices, food makes you fat, too much work makes you sick and staying away from family makes you love them "less", or be loved by them "less". How many more? Does anyone else want to say something?

Scene on the Sidewalk

A proper lady - dressed in her best. She wore a magenta and purple shawl around her neck that glimmered when light shown upon it. And she wore an adorable set of jewelery in white to go with. The dress - perfect fit on her- was a dull but shimmering grey velvet that turned green at certain angles. In a very ladylike fashion she moved away and sat on the wall, popping her head, absorbing and taking in everything around her. She was judging the situation, calculating her next move - very unladylike you may say. All the same she was lovely. What was the situation like you may ask. It was like this - the sun was just rising, the air was cool and soft. People were not busily about yet, though they soon would be. They would drive their noisy cars, yell noisy and meaningless words and switch on their noisy and polluting air-conditioners. But that was still a few hours away. Till then she had her time and the world was hers.
She found what she had been looking for, a lone old man - one of the few left that looked out for others. He was dressed in white pyjamas and had a brown shawl thrown over his shriveled shoulders. He was stooping under the weight of his whole life. She might have wondered, what it was that had been so heavy that made him bend so. Or she might not have wondered, we will never know.
He was throwing out grains on the sidewalk and making soft cooing noises. No one would know what it was that went on in his mind as he went about - one wobbly step after another. Slow and purposeful steps that led to where? For what?
These questions may have held her for sometime, then she forced herself out of her reverie. She had no more time to waste. She spread her wings out and swooped gracefully down and pecked at the delicious grains that the old man threw out, strutting along as she ate, at peace with the world.

Alcohol all around

I saw something very funny today, funny enough to grin a long way after I had seen it.Shop name - "Janatha Bazaar Liquor Suppliers" with a big neon sign of "Budweiser" above it. It was huge, some sort of supermarket. You went in with a trolley and got the "supplies" you needed I guess. So I glanced at it and inside and at the shiny bottles in racks. Looked really cool. A place you would want to be seen in, with all the right accessories - aviator glasses and all. Right next to that was.. guess what? No? Khadi Gramodyog with our dear old Mahatma's face smiling benevolently. His face in profile was turning towards our Budweiser store as though looking there and giving a smile!
Before you come to conclusions - I am not going to preach. Just found it ironic.

I thought a little more about Gandhi. There has been a lot said about him, in praise of him, against him. I have tried to take sides many times before, but the man simply refuses to fall into a category for me. People say India could have got freedom much before, if it had not been for him. I do not know what the truth is, but I know that whatever it may be, is bound to be convoluted and twisted. I only wonder about the courage of the man. What else could explain how he got so many people to believe in such an idealistic and simple campaign? He just stuck on so persistently to being a pesky creature! He made sure the message of his echoed everywhere. That was all!!

As for our liquor suppliers - they are following his strategy. They are just being persistent and up everywhere. You can be miles away from an ATM, a bus stand or a stationery story in this city I live in. But you can find a liquor store within 20 metres of anywhere. Simple, yet effective campaigning for the cause of the fluids and their druids.

Got an idea?

Is an idea good if and only if it comes to you, when you are trying to find the solution to a problem? What about an idea that comes to you out of the blue, leading you to a problem which could be solved by the implementation of this idea? Furthermore, what about an idea that crops up on you to hold you and shake you and force you into finding some situation in which it can be used.

We have heard so many tales of inventors having "found" their ideas while searching for something different from what they found - like the alchemists. But how many stories have we heard of people trying to find an area of use for some random idea that they may have got? Probably every random idea that people got, led them to find a use for it.

Maybe the question that I am asking is useless. Maybe the most brilliant of ideas are only of value if a problem exists for them to solve.

A quote

The best thing I have read today:
"Selfishness is not living as one wishes to live, it is asking others to live as one wishes to live."
-- Oscar Wilde

Have you seen the sky today

Have you seen the sky today?
It tells me lot so much more
Wonder if there is much left to say
Wondered of it before
But there is something new everyday
It tells me so many things
It tells me tomorrow is a new day
That will finally lead to spring
Have you seen the sky today?

Fear Factor

I have been making an attempt to identify my fears and find out what they are founded on and what brought in those fearful feelings.
Most of my fears are based not on cockroaches, but on less delightful creatures.
Fears can be mostly turned around or gotten rid of by analysing a previous scary encounter and chalking out what the action taken must have been like. To give you an example, if an encounter with a cockroach (of which you have great fear- assuming) caught you in the blue, you are overwhelmed with fear and are unable to respond. Once the ordeal has passed and assuming you come out alive from the encounter, you would try to go over the episode and tried to train your mind to respond to such a situation (assuming you want to, that is). A creature like a cockroach has only a limited number of ways in which it can attack or react to your attack. But if the creature you find fear-inducing is a creature of greater intelligence than a cockroach (albeit just a little more), you are caught in a loop that is best analysed by theories written by great economics geniuses of our race. The other creature thinks that, I think that, it thinks that, I think and so on.. (Or maybe my it should be -The other creature thinks, that I think, that it thinks, that I think that and so on... Either way it would make sense but in a different way. Let me think that you can think about it.)
There are certain fears that you can overcome through logical thinking (such as that of ghosts) or by over exposure ( such as of disgusting creatures), but there are some fears that cannot be overcome cause of shear inability of the human mind to take a wild guess at what is to be expected. I have no problem with unexpected twists. But it is the unpleasantness of having to deal with these creatures that has me in its grip.

Genius and General Statements

"Genius is eternal patience"
I will not mention who said these wise words because I do not want you to be influenced by the context in which this great man must have spoken these words. I was influenced and had to take a little effort to take a broader look at this and view it as a general statement. Whatever the context may have been, how true is this statement.

Of the various definitions for this word in Webster's online edition, the ones that struck me the most were these -
Genius : : a peculiar, distinctive, or identifying character or spirit
: : extraordinary intellectual power especially as manifested in creative activity

Let's pay attention to the word 'spirit'. To me, this word signifies a kind of energy that ultimately leads to some creative process. Or destructive process, depending on the kind of energy.
Now back to our great man's words - 'eternal patience'? Towards what? Towards the task into which this energy is being put? Towards yourself and your eccentricities? Towards the eccentricities of the world? Towards the limitations that the world puts upon this energy? What eternal patience does he talk about?
To me, the idea of genius has always been an entity that is so full of energy, ability and will to create something, that it can hardly wait. It is extremely urgent and impatient, as though in order to channel all that energy into the creative process, without giving it a chance to dissipate or fade away.
Where does patience come in here? Isn't it impatience and an uncontrollable urge to channel energy towards a strict sense of purpose that makes genius?

Now I have to tell you, in the great man's context these words would be absolutely true. Google the quote, you will get the person. Judge for yourself. It will tell you that a general statement has very little place in this world.

You and I

You question
I search for answers
You criticize
I sympathize
You ridicule
I cringe
You dismiss
I reason
You give up
I hold on
You judge
I forgive
You and I
Couldn't be more apart
But each of us makes a part
of the whole.
You and I
are in every thinking mind,
what we churn out, what we grind
balances the scale.

Who

Who is it that holds you
in the palm of their hands
Who is it that can shape you
Any way that they want to

Who is it that gives you
a reason to live
Who is it that can make you
Happy, wise and glowing

Who is it that twists you
Who is it that destroys
Who is it that breaks you
Who is it that defines

It is you, who gives you
In the hands of another
It is you, who holds you
breaks you or makes you

It is you that knows you
It is you. You have the power
The power of your happiness
The power to be You.
Go Rule The World.

Why I write poetry

Why?
Cause I like reading it over again
I am not being vain
There is just a little pleasure I gain
from reading what I said before
It is also that I can write down
something that would really sound
trivial in prose, but in this form, profound
I would myself hate to read
some piece of prose that goes on and on
about some lonely village girl's song
worse if she sounds lost and forlorn
But then if someone puts it in this form
I would read most gladly
About dry grass or a dead tree
or some age-old piece of pottery
It is not what you write about, but how you do
It is easy, writing a piece of prose
that is pompous, crude and verbose
But nothing can even come close
To the depth that flows in poetry
That is why.

Don't give me another name

No, I am not in camphor
Not in tinkling bells
No, I don't live in heaven
Nor is there a hell

I am not in murmured prayers
Not in whispered chants
I am not the slayer of evil
I am not the giver of grants

I am not in warring tribes
That kill without a thought
That preach about my will, yet
whose faith can be bought

Stop looking for me in idols
Stop looking in holy verse
I am right here, beside you,
in sunsets, on seashores.

I am in the quest for learning
I am in that which is pure
I am in trees and life and happiness
I am beauty that endures

I am in everything that breathes
And walks the face of Earth
I am in every kind word said
And in joyous mirth

Stop this trivial squabbling
Too many have died, too many maimed
I am life and love and freedom
Don't give me another name

Me am media's voodoo doll.

Warning: May contain traces of "humour" of the bathroom variety. Read at your own risk.

News is not entertainment. It is bad enough to have ads on TV channels that you pay for, we really do not need more rubbish from news channels. Least of all background music and the life of movie stars and their kind. They have their share of publicity. Newspaper supplements are filled with so called tidbits from their lives. Let them eat, drink and do whatever, just leave me out of it. There should be a law against wasting people's time trying to force stuff on them about what news guys think is news that too of the "breaking" kind. ("What should I break to vent this frustration") Or worse are the "citizen journalist" shows that are filled with dramatic music, video styling (camera tilts, slow motion, picture turns black and white all of a sudden) and weeping people. Are people so insensitive that they must be shown tears and suffering for them to accept that the other person is in trouble?

So the GOP thinks that Obama called Palin a pig. (If he really meant it, it was pretty decent of him to stop there). So what can we do? Why should the entire internet cough up links that talk about lipstick and pigs? Curiosity got the better of me and I read through all that rubbish. But don't blame me, you cant help but be intrigued if you see links that cryptically talk about putting lipstick on a pig. I wondered if anyone wanted to something so stupid why they would be doing it etc... Who ever knew that it was just a stupid expression.

Worst of all, are these so called entertainment channels that thrusts their sense of humour on people. It has ridiculous programs that go "dus ka dumb". Right you are. But a great understatement. It should be "Dus to the power infinity dumb". How else do you describe a show that gives you a complete audio-visual-sensory experience. When Salman pops up with his anchoring in a voice and accent that makes him sound constipated, it makes you look and feel constipated. Add to it Rakhi Sawant and it threatens to empty the contents of your stomach (Problem child style)

They all know where exactly it hurts and they pierce me right there. In my kingdom I will destroy the TV. And be more cautious before clicking on links. (sigh. cant banish the net)

Girl at work

Post number 50. Not a great milestone for me considering the rubbish that I have put in here anyway.
The milestone that I have been looking at more closely is having completed four months at my job. I have never had more fun than this in my life. I get these weird nods and empty smiles when I talk about how enjoyable my job is that I sometimes wonder if I am wrong in feeling this way. I guess people are more used to listening to cribbing and complaining about how over-stressed they are and underpaid. Talking about the pay, I am supposed to be earning less than a sweeper at NTPC, but that does not really matter. The fun that I am having while working is priceless. It is not so much in the place and the people (both of which are surprisingly great) as in my work itself.
I probably sound like a geek and like a goody-goody gal, and the kid that sits in the first bench and answers all the questions. But hey, I think I am one of these if not all... Not sure about the good part.
When I started out, I have even mentioned here on my blog, I was scared I would not be able to work up to people's standards, I was scared I would not fit in with my colleagues and I was scared that I would find out how stupid I really am. I have not found out how stupid I really am yet, but the other two fears just evaporated.
Is it just that everything has been really smooth for me or is it that when you enjoy your job, you have never worked a day in your life. (Or some such thing as Confucius said.)

The 8 things tag

Thanks Matangi for this tag. I have never done one before and never thought I should ever do one. This one is only for you Matangi. You wont find anything remotely interesting or new. You are going to get to know how boring I really am. :)

8 Things I am most passionate about:

My job, family, reading, music, food, friends, talking, and a bunch of beautiful girls.

8 Things I wanna do before I die:

This
go around the world
build a house
learn to play the guitar
write a book
paint a whole painting
compose a song
spend a month on a deserted island. away from civilization or any signs of it.

8 Things I say often:

Please, Sorry, Thank you, Oh my God, Shit, How stupid, Ridiculous, I am hungry

8 Books I last read:

Tinyos programming by Phil Levis,
Trustee from the tool room by Nevil Shute,
The Brave Little tailor,
Cinderella,
The little mermaid.
On the farm. What? I am serious.
Doctors by Erich Segal.
The prodigal daughter Jeffrey Archer

8 songs that I listen to over and over again:

Nothing else matters Metallica
Enjoy the silence Depeche Mode
Kiss from a rose Seal
Under the bridge RHCP
Desert Rose Sting
Come undone Duran Duran
Sultans of Swing Dire Straits
Layla Eric Clapton

8 friends I now tag:

Anyone who wants to take it up please do. Give me your link if you are doing it.

Let's go back

Gleaming eyes, feet without shoes
Never any worries, nor any blues
The wind in his hair fed his glee
A smile on his face for all to see
The cycle he rode, sped on fast
Alas! This joy barely does last
The boy, some day, will have to "grow up"
Leave joy behind, enter the muck
that this world pulls us all into
I know, I too wish it wasn't true
I too wish we all could stay
carefree, careless, joyful, that way

But wait. Why is it too late?
Is growing up like going thru' a one-way gate?
Why can't we just turn time back?
Run races, jumping with both feet inside a sack?
Laugh and jump like we always did
Of worry and pain we shall be rid
So why don't you and me make a deal
You bring sticks, I'll bring us wheels
Lets hit it, drive it and run down a hill
Across the stream, around the mill
Lets run all around and run all the way
Lets relive childhood, if only for a day

What say??! ;)

Immortals in combat

"Like two immortals locked in combat until Judgement Day...".
"Or... you can surrender..."

That is Barbosa and Jack Sparrows in 'The Pirates of the Carribean'.
Watching Fed coming back against Rafa again and yet again, I thought, if their master strokes, saves and returns could be put into words they must have said something like that.
Sport is one of those things that converts a man into his thoughts. It brings out a part of him that completely belongs to Nature. It is not acquired. Sport involves that part of the brain that performs by practice and by discipline and by simply letting go. It does not have time nor the need to ask questions and get answers. It has a way of showing the on-looker how a man can become one with what he is doing.
The same applies to a musician and his instrument, to a scientist and his work. While the body moves with the ball and the bat and these two move with the body, they become one entity and the rest of the world seems immaterial. The world seems too far away to touch them. It feels like gravity does not work on the mind any more. They are free to soar and to touch heights that no one could possibly reach.

Well, I think both Rafa and Fed reached that height last evening. It sure was one great match. As they reached that height, they took me along.There I was squatting by the television, whooping and yelling out support as though they could hear me. I guess that height does not pay heed to the limitations of man. That is why they both played like gods.

Loony tune Vs birdie melody

I stopped singing
out of sheer boredom
of having heard no other voice at all

My sense of hearing
heightened by the cessation of noise(!)
perceived the music of a bird call

The tunes I sing
made by mere mortals can't keep
anyone the way this one had me in thrall

The little guy jumping
from branch to branch
sang so beautifully with his throat so small

What I would give
for that tune to be mine
God knows, I would give my all

I shall not talk to you

There is nothing wrong with us two
We just belong to different worlds
I am not being arrogant, while
you are not being vain.

I shall not talk to you
Cause I do not want to be forced
To give you a false smile
every time I see you again

So go back to your rouge
Go back to your makeup course
Keep the gap of several miles
any time I pass by your lane

Dedicated to my hostel mates whom I have not talked to yet, in spite of having lived under the same roof for an entire month.

Of Forests and Failure

I take yet another walk through the forest that holds me and keeps me in its awe. My neck begins to ache dully because of constantly looking up and watching birds, insects, leaves and branches of every hue you could ever imagine. A million sights and sounds and sensations. A snail with its antenna and dull brown shell, moving as though on wheels with an air of royalty that does not bother about speed. To it, like me, the journey mattered more than the destination. A centipede- glossy and busily moving over twigs and leaves. Curling up when poked or prodded. Birds twittering and singing, moving from branch to branch. One dressed in a dinner jacket that fit wonderfully, showing it off by jumping busily in front of me, the other hidden well from my prying eyes. Slithering slowly and noisily over dry leaves into a clump of trees - that was a red rat snake that looked at me from behind a tree curiously. A grey mongoose looking about with a frightened air. It looked left first, then right, and then left again. When it was just about to cross the road it spied me boring my eyes into it, taking in its swift movements and shiny fur. Then it bolted to the other side and looked back at me hidden safely under a slab. A heron that arrived in the evening into its favourite spot on the lawn and busily picked up delicious insects. Lots of butterflies, donning the latest fashion. Blue of a million hues, pink, yellow, green, orange, red, black, what-is-that-colour-never-named-by-man. And trees, reaching out to heaven, waving at the sun. Sunlight drenched these leaves and turned them a translucent green. Colours and shades of green - innumerable. These leaves blessed the occasional passerby with some cold drops of water that had spent the night on them. Creepers that rose to the sky and weaved a thick sun-ban. Branches that fought their way up trying to get some sunshine for themselves.
And me in the middle. Not knowing what to look at and what to take in and what I might miss if I turned one way or the other. Me in the middle. Writing all this to people who probably will never see this place - right out of a fairy tale. Telling them things that they can never feel because words are inadequate. Quite useless. I can tell you about what I see not what I feel. My senses are strong and the stimulus of the forest is powerful. But it is this brain's inability to bring the feelings it experiences and enjoys to you.

Randomer and randomer :D

Yesterday I squandered away a lot of money on my mobile phone, used it to talk to many people that I normally don't call up to talk to. Yapped away to glory while it threatened to rain. I stood on the terrace watching trees waving in the wind and the lightning display. It only threatened to rain. With a lot of disappointment I headed downstairs and finished another Sudoku puzzle. I bought two papers yesterday - The Hindu and The Times of India. I usually buy only the former, but because I have had people telling me that they like The Times better, I decided to compare the two. Well, I liked the puzzles page (:D) in The Times. But it had nothing else other than sickening tales about film stars(I think they were film stars, they were dressed like them. Never have actually heard of them before) and some other controversial characters. I just didn't like it. It sounded more like a magazine than a newspaper. Nothing like good old Hindu. There was an article (in The Hindu) that went "How to avoid boring strangers" or something like that, that cracked me up. Some person who thinks like me, that reporter. I keep forgetting (almost) that the sarcasm that I take to be humour normally, sounds sinister and evil to other people. I keep reminding myself that others are neither as forgiving as my family,nor as good-humoured to allow my jokes to amuse them. So even when I think up of some hilarious, sarcastic something I just allow myself a large grin and try not to allow myself to be seen. Not for the fear of being seen and thought of as mad - but for the fear of having to tell them what it was that I found so funny. They just wouldn't understand it I know.
Then I saw a mongoose. Light brown and shiny, long body. Quick, sharp movements. It bolted as soon as it saw me.
My digestive system is beginning to weaken. My stomach feels like lead and the sight of sambhar makes me feel like throwing up. Lunch was a lot of rasam and a little bit of rice. I hope it does a little good to my stomach. I feel sad for the poor thing.
As you can see I am dying of boredom and getting more and more random. I have never rambled more than this. Well this has nothing to do with my job. It is just the time that I spend away from it that is killing me. So just hoping that I am able to spend more time here and find some good way of using my time away from work.
What's happening with you?

Sajida

As different as life is from death,
as different as rain is from heat,
As far away as stars are from Earth,
As contrasting as day is to night,
So different was the harsh black cloth,
That wrapped in it a face so white.

The death of a fanatic

Chandrasekhara sat on the floor with papers strewn all around him. He was shaking terribly and had a swollen eye. Dazedly he wondered what had happened in the last few minutes. Nothing made sense. He strained to get up and headed to the washroom in his 2 room house that had almost fallen apart after his assailants had entered and beaten him up. Too frail to give back or protect himself, he had been so powerless that the hefty men had hesitated to hit him too hard.

He was too scared to go out to see a doctor about his injuries. He huddled up on his cot and tried to sleep. But his heart continued to bang and his body felt like it had been thrown down a cliff. He wondered what had triggered the cruel attack on his life. He had never meant anyone any harm in his life. But he had some principles that had cost him a lot.

He loved his language and culture. He was known for his fluency in Kannada, his vocabulary and his wit in speech and writing. His flawless Kannada was marveled at and praised by many.
He had written several books in Kannada. They had been greatly appreciated by people who could still read and understand the language in its true form, because over the years the language had deteriorated. He attributed this to the unwillingness of parents to allow their children to "waste" their time on Kannada. Even in his tired and pain-ridden state now he shook with anger when he thought of all this.

People thought he was a fanatic. He had a profound love for Kannada and that should have been in everyone who had it for their mother tongue. It was but natural. That is why he had been actively involved in spreading the growth and the return of the most beautiful language in the world. He had been responsible for all the public transport and public offices, streets and bus stands having only Kannada lettering on them. He had wanted Kannada to be everywhere. And he had succeeded partially. He had not succeeded in making advertisers write in Kannada. They preferred to write Kannada words in English. It irked him terribly. It was worse than English lettering. He had wanted to change that and went about doing what it would take to make these ad-makers write in beautiful Kannada. After all, it was for their good. It would help improve their business obviously.

Fanatics were those people that went after money. They were those people who lied and flattered and messed up other people's lives for the sake of living in luxury and with a lot of money. They had sold their souls and hearts for the sake of it. Changing to Kannada meant that these people would have to spend money on re-writing boards. It was but a measly amount really. That was not the reason Chandrashekhara had been getting death-threats. The ad-makers had thought that he was after their money. What ridiculous rubbish! What did money mean any way. They had offered to buy him. When he had refused any price they mentioned they had taken the next step and that was to threaten him. He was not one to give up so easily. After all it was the question of his pride for his language. That was what drove Chandrashekhara to hold on to his position over the issue. In spite of the bruises that his body bore, he held on to his beliefs. He pressed the right people to do what it took to ensure that all ads were in Kannada and no other language.
That evening Chandrashekhara was found dead in a dark alley. He had been bludgeoned to death.

Well, Chandrashekhara was probably wrong and foolish in what he did. It is up to you to decide for yourself.But the truth is that humans understand only devotion to money. So much so that they offer money to the gods and goddesses that they worship. As though it were of any use. They scrimp and save and kill for every paisa. They don't think before kicking up a fuss over a rupee that was owed to them. They rate other human beings based on how much money they have or had or will have. They think of, talk of, dream of, work for, die for, kill for, scream for money. That is natural to man. That is acceptable. In fact the lack of devotion to money is unnatural and unthinkable - an offence. Any other devotion - however mild or extreme, restrained or enthusiastic - is termed fanaticism.

Entirely a figment of my overactive imagination. And apologies if you have been subjected to my long tirades against the use of Kannada here in B'lore. This story just struck me and I found myself telling myself that I was being a fanatic myself and that I just need to open my mind a little more. So it is the death of this fanatic.

Welcome back blog!!

You will please forgive me for having my mood swings and for my extremely short temper that blinds me temporarily but not for too long.
I took off my beloved blog - will-make-change in a moment of weakness. However the intentions with which I started writing the blog are crystal clear and always strong. I am bringing it back to public view now that my mind has returned to me.
Thank you all of you who stand by me even when I am screaming crazy. I will not attempt to remove the blog again.

Kleptēs

As the bus screeched to a halt, she pushed into the bus from behind the queue that had formed. She found her seat and then began her workweek. Like the few tens of weeks that had gone by, this one was not different. It involved her getting into this bus and choosing this particular seat and getting to work.
She scanned her co-passengers carefully. There were some irritating schoolgirls, giggling over nothing. There were old women going to the market, busily making garlands with deft fingers. There were some others who were sitting and doing some last minute studying for their exams. Papers in hand, and lips busily muttering something. Then there were the usual cellphone devotees... Then finally she found what she was looking for. A short and plump girl with a bulky bag - things almost spilling out. She was obviously new here and was probably lost. She was anxiously looking out of the window and trying to read what the signboards said, to see if she had to get down yet.
The bag was neat, like the ones rich people going to offices use. But it was overstuffed and had some zips open. Perfect. The girl had slid her hand into one of the openings and got out change to buy her bus ticket. So that was not where the big money was.
Figuring out the bag neatly and inconspicuously, her brain worked fast. She then found out where, what she wanted, would be.
Her heart was racing and she was tense in the excitement of it all. It had never failed to get adrenaline flowing for her. In a swift moment the money was in her hand. And she was off the bus. The workweek had begun in style. Then walking fast, with the clip-clop of her pointed heels resounding in the corridor Kamala pushed the doors of the 12 storey building, swiped her card quickly and marched smartly into her air-conditioned corner office to get on with her boring full-time job.

This story is entirely a figment of my imagination. Kleptomaniacs do not actually steal with the intention of doing so and do not steal objects of great value usually. It is a serious mental affliction and has been compared to Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD). This story was not written with the intention of hurting anyone and bears no resemblance to anyone I know. Though kleptomania is a disease, Kleptēs means "to steal" in Greek.

Then it rained

Just when she thought
it was a life-threatening drought
Just when she gave up
on everything good
Just when she waved away
thoughts, that some day
the earth would be
as green as it ever could
That's when droplets, pure
the kind that can mend and cure
fell to the parched earth
where she stood
Yes. It rained
washed away the pain
that had held reigns
on all that it could.

Its cool here now and will probably rain. Looking forward to see the forest in the rain :)
The rain always brings out poetic stuff from me. hehe.
I won't use this blog as a daily diary place. Those last two posts were just what I had wanted to record, so they had gone up there.
By the way, I saw the shed skin of a snake near here. It was shiny to look at and fragile. It felt like crepe paper though. Surprised to see that the entire skin was whole and held together though it was extremely fragile and almost dropping to bits. Don't worry, I will be fine. No snake is gonna come rushing to get me. The bus conductors are more likely to bite. So if you wanna save me, save me from them!

Historic Second day!! :)

What do I say about today. I had a nice meeting with the bigger boss in a posh setting and finally gave me a feeling that I was employed.
I enjoyed working today. I was at my exploring best and looked (with a very critical eye hehe) at the works of some researchers and tried to figure out what they were trying to say in their papers.
Well I cannot tell you any of the technical details, because I am not allowed to. But the job basically requires me to develop a system of complicated electronics for a specific purpose. For this I would have to figure out what other people working before me have found and then base my design on the ideas that I get from their work. I think it is turning out to be a complicated task. The complications keep cropping up the more we (boss and I) discuss about it and thats the way I like it better :)
Well I will be doing some reverse engineering that I am already so good at and I will get to get my hands dirty with some nice electronics toys. What else can you ask for.
Thats the sum-up for you anon-e-mus.
Lunch was at the hostel mess. Food was good. I also got to talk to "Dr.KaLee" about his kungfu koolness ! and roared with laughter all the way there and back at all his stories and mannerisms. Did he look like a cartoon character? No, I told him. I said only good people can make other people laugh so heartily. (Or I should say heartiLEE the way he says it)
Well I will be heading back home for some better dinner than last night. Maybe I should treat my shrinking tummy a little better. Probably will start studying a little. My job is going to be as exciting as I ever wished it could be. So I must gear up. Wish me luck. And you two dear anonymous readers just find some time to tell me what you are doing too.

Historic first day

First day at first job. I had spent the whole of last week thinking about how it would be, especially after having spent an entire year at home basically relaxing and having fun. I don't really know what to say about it. Well this place is full of greenery and feels like being in the middle of some rain forest wallpaper if we just cut out the tar roads that keep people from getting completely lost. It looks like there are no people for miles and miles around. It doesn't make me feel lonely. Makes me feel more at home and happy. But the terror starts when I think of what is waiting at the end of the long walk. People - lots of them, whose names I just manage to keep in mind, while I feel idiotically conscious of myself.People I will never get comfortable with but there is something else that is taking all my energy and processing capacity and that is the job at hand. I have no orientation, no time to get used to my environment, no getting into backslapping terms with co-workers etc.Not that I miss all that, but it sort of doesn't give me the feeling that I am actually working here. I almost felt like an intruder this morning but now after the coffee break when we all went out together, I feel a little less awkward. I think it is fine enough that people here are not going to get at me and get me down. But still that makes it bad in a way. Odd as it may seem, I think I manage to get stiff and weird around people who are really nice. Nasty and in-your-face people seem to be more easy to handle. My "boss" also mentioned how they were all like a nice informal bunch that were not bound by stiff rules - probably after seeing me at my stiffest best.That made it worse. If he had scowled a little at me maybe I would have unwound a little.
However, that boring and horribly un-understandable (for the reader) part aside my job seems to be some page out of a scifi movie, the kind that you would have to watch 2 or 3 times (if you had the interest and patience) to understand. It is so terribly contrasting with the rain forest outside that I feel disoriented when leaving one world and entering the other.
I am finding it hard to believe that I will be here for probably one year or more. Now in another half year I will be heading back "home" that is not as terrifying as the workplace, but last night had me waking up in the middle of the night and gasping at the sight of a complete stranger fast asleep in my room. I guess this is a very normal and ordinary situation to be in and I must stop being a kid and get used to all of this, but it is a lil too much to take all together. (Mom don't worry I am just being my usual complaining self and so am perfectly alright.(!))

Mom is right

Mom said, "Baby, don't despise it,
the more you do, the more you become like it"
So I ask, "you mean I must like it?"
She sighs. "I guess you aren't enough wise yet"
She is more right than ever about that.

I hope this plagues you too

I hope this plagues you too
You may put it away as untrue
and reach for the cross on the top-right
But that will not remove the sight
that is etched in my mind
A sight of the plaguing kind
A sight that blew into my face
taking all that faith, that was, away
One man hitting another sang-froid
Of all pity or even humanness devoid

The curse of living

Guitars and drums
Vs. uncles, aunts and grandmums
Well all I really want is the rhythm
and nothing to do with people who make 'em
It is the curse of living
that makes me take what's given
Humans and more dead, zombified humans
clothed and camouflaged demons
The road to the world outside hidden
and the fiends inside me undriven.

Rant

As ever the first thought was to run away from the situation into my own world that tries to shut every one out. And that dreaded misery of having to smile and say niceties to people that I don' t want to ever see. The torture of having to see the glee hidden behind their questions when I tell them how jobless I am. I am more than that. I know that I am more than that and I don't need people to tell me that I am not what I think I am. while trying to convince them that I am trying hard, I get convinced that I am really nothing and nobody.
Is everyone else so dependent on what the world thinks and tells them to do? Do these things press everyone down too? Or am I the only nincompoop unable to handle anything. Receiving a laminated sheet that proclaims that I am an engineer, but doesn't convince me that I am one in any way was one of those moments that I want to banish forever from my memory. (Is it just coincidence that these kind of incidents are happening more often than ever now?)
But this is it. I have never been lower than this ever before. And I still don't know if I can go further below, in terms of self worth and balance. I have kept telling myself all my life that I will get that feeling of self worth and the 'guts' to stand up to what I think is right and the strength to face human beings - to break free from that nagging voice in my head that never fails to remind me that I will have to be what they want me to be and not myself. Somehow when that time must have been close at hand.. it seems as impossible as it did years ago.
The next job of mine will be to convince people of something that I am completely unconvinced of myself.

Goodbye blog

I decided to say goodbye to one of my blogs. I just realized that I was putting up all that stuff there for myself. I would like to read my thoughts the day I am in a position to realize them. I do need people to carry out these ideas, but I do not need people to approve of them or put them down. I just need the blog as a thought register. I did not intend to write the blog for gaining popularity as a "thinker" or an "altruist". So there is no point in me flaunting and advertising it at all.
It is not completely destroyed. I just made it harder to get to for others, that is all.
I know I will do what I want to do someday. So I don't need people to tell me whether I can/should or not.
If you wish to reach me with your ideas, if you think that closing the blog closed a channel of communication you are welcome to write to me - ruling(dot)world(at)gmail(dot)com

Bring it on?

Man has continually striven to eliminate the risks to his existence. Against natural forces he built shelters. He eventually even figured out how to use these potent forces to his own advantage. He caged off or killed animals that posed a threat ( or didn't pose one, it didn't matter) From being terrified of everything around him, he has come a long way. He has mastered natural forces and views them with disdain. He even considers himself a saviour of sorts by talking about 'environmental issues' as though nature was having a major malfunction of its own and he had nothing to do with it in the first place. But like it is with life, things get tougher and more complicated.
Man has found a great challenge - greater than any other. The challenge is so complex that it does not show itself explicitly and make itself known. Instead it creeps underground and waits and watches and plans to bring humankind down slowly and steadily. Man has identified this challenge and changes have begun to take place in his psyche.
Have you ever wondered about how when the earth is teeming with people man is eternally lonely? Why does he find newer ways of eliminating the need for human company? Why is he dedicated to creating things like portable music players and mobile phones and networks that enable perfectly impersonal transactions of anything under the sun and substitute humans? Man considers every other man his rival, his challenger who is out to destroy him. Not only in terms of physical necessities - natural resources that get depleted etc. Man finds other people a threat to his emotional existence. He finds himself incapable of dealing with other people who may enter his 'emotional territory'. He puts on masks, so much so that he begins to take those masks for his own nature. But this is not a sign of weakness. It is not the end of the road for the human species. It is another of his survival tactics.
People will stop trying to kill each other in the name of religion and region. They will find easier and more effective ways of eliminating those that will challenge his existence and space and comfort. This means of elimination will not include killing. It will be the rise of a new way of life and thinking in man that will allow him to live independent of anyone else. He will free himself from anything that might cause him to give a thought about other creatures.
That day is not far from now. People are beginning to embrace that way of life more than ever now. Emotions, bonding and need for company will be removed from man's mental makeup sooner than we can analyse or even see this change coming.
Brace yourself and even better get tuned to the new way of life where the only people you will want to see will be people on a screen who can talk to you, but whom you need not talk back to, and you will not be required to give back to others, you will be free to live for no one but yourself, you will no longer crave for human company but will be stifled by it... Not too far away. The future is almost here.