Here and Now

I guess that's all forever is. Just one long trail of nows. And I guess all you can do is try and live one now at a time without getting too worked up about the last now or the next now.

~ from 'The Horse Whisperer'

Feminism ...

"There is a simple test to find out if a woman is sexist. If they see the phrase white power as racist, ask if they find the phrase girl power sexist. Get them to justify the discrepancy."

another one from the Register Comments section

Randomness

Is it just me or .....

... is the whistle of a supercharger utterly fascinating?
... can everything be made better by subtle blue LED lighting?
... is it possible to be close friends with a person solely through correspondence?
... does the sight of the setting sun's rays bursting from behind a cloud never get old?


... Its probably just me...

Where's your crown, King Nothing?

Careful what you wish
Careful what you say
Careful what you wish; you may regret it
Careful what you wish; you just may get it

Even though its intended to be as a warning of sorts, I would welcome my wishes coming true sometime. Hell, how will I know regret if I don't get my wish in the first place. Considering how contrary to my wishes everything is running, a little optimism will be a nice thing. Regret - I'll deal with that later. I'm used to it now.

Silent Night

Another year goes by, filled with ups and downs, a cacophony of mixed feelings and the lingering sweetness of the joys offset by flecks of the sour bitterness of sadness.

A Happy New Year to everyone.

Time

The healing properties of time are mentioned all the time, but I don't subscribe to that school of thought so much. Its all in the head, I suppose - time has very little to do with it.

Two train journeys, exactly an year apart, yet so very different. That day, I felt I was on top of the world - literally as well. But today feels like I'm six feet under.

As they say ...

The sun is the same in the relative way, but you're older
Shorter of breath and one day closer to death

Walk Unafraid

As the sun comes up, 
as the moon goes down
These heavy notion creep around
It makes me think
Long ago I was brought into this life a little lamb
A little lamb
Courageous, stumbling
Fearless was my middle name.
But somewhere there I lost my way
Everyone walks the same 
expecting me to step
The narrowpath they've laid
They claim to walk unafriad
I'll be clumsy instead
Hold my love me or leave me high.

Say "Keep within the boundaries if you want to play."
Say "Contradiction only makes it harder."
How can I be what I want to be?
When all I want to do is strip away these stilled constraints
And crush this charage shred this sad masquerade
I don't need no persuading
I'll trip, fall, pick myself up and walk unafraid
I'll be clumsy instead
Hold my love me or leave me high.

If I have a bag of rocks to carry as I go
I just want to hold my head up high
I don't care what I have to step over
I'm prepared to look you in the eye
Look me in the eye and if you see familiarity
Then celebrate the contradiction
Help me when I fall to walk unafraid
I'll be clumsy instead
Hold my love me or leave me high.
Walk unafraid
I'll be clumsy instead
Hold my love me or leave me high.

~R.E.M.

Lately there is this phenomenon of a totally appropriate R.E.M.song playing randomly. Makes me think what kind of weird soul searching intelligence must be dwelling inside Winamp.

Lonely

I’m all alone
though you're all here.
Surrounding me,
smothering me
with your happiness
that I can't match.
I know you
care for me,
care about me.
But I feel like
you don't see me.
And that makes
me not real.

Island of lonely
in a sea of happiness.
Joyful, unconcerned.
Maybe it's because
I won't open up
and let you in.
But it feels like
it's more than that.
Feeling claustrophobic,
its closing in.
Crushing me.
I can't breathe.
Help...

Now I’m really alone.
You've forgotten
I was ever there.
You don't recognize
me anymore.
Have I changed
that much?
You haven't changed
at all.
It seems like
you're immortal.
Still outgoing, crazy,
the opposite of me.
But we used to
be good friends,
didn't we?
Or was I just
someone to
pass time with.
Until you
figured out how
boring I was,
and am.

I’m cold now.
I wish I could
turn to stone.
And not cry.
I haven’t
(in public)
in a long time.
But I do when I’m alone.
Nothing is forever
except death.
And I can't
seem to kill myself.
I’m too weak
of spirit and body.
Maybe,
if I ask nicely,
you'll do it for me...

~ willuholdme

[I wish I could write a nice poem someday.]

Where do I begin .. What do I say ...

A mish-mash of thoughts.

Originally wanted to write the usual two lines about 12x06, but there really wasn't anything interesting there. Or maybe I wasn't in the mood to get entertained. All it did was remind me of the NE118 and consequently, home. Even the Corvette in the shopping mall was meh.

Went to make coffee, and discovered that all cups / mugs were in the sink and I surely wasn't going to wash others' dishes. So I had mine in a glass tumbler. Which reminded me of Roopali. The one night we decided to drop pretense and go there for coffee instead of Barista. Sitting there, under the awning, the remaining 3A's discussed bikes, philosophy, movies and so many things. Until they closed. Then we sat till 3 am on the steps outside Subway just talked and talked. We rued the passage of the 'good old days' and lamented growing up. Wonder what we would talk now.

On another note, tried to watch Dasvidaniya as a side-movie, fully expecting it to be a rip off of The Bucket List. I was surprised because in my opinion, it is much better. While TBL has one acting god in Jack Nicholson and an actual God - Morgan Freeman, it is still a fairy tale. Not everyone drinks coffee made from pooped beans and flies on a private jet to exotic locations.

Sure, my bucket list would most probably feature racing a vintage Shelby Mustang around an oval, but would I? Not unless I happened to share my hospital ward with an eccentric billionaire. The smaller film is to me, the more personal one, where buying a car, any car is an aspirational decision. Where it is not an exotic Safari or a trip to the pyramids that will satisfy you, but a simple 'foreign' trip - anywhere.

Though I liked it because only when playing Charades can you put 'You' before 'I' in I love you. Even when it is love without consequence, love for love's sake.

Who we are ...

You are known by the company you keep. Or so they say.
Not quite the philosophical start I was looking for, but whatever.
It is your friends who define you, who bring out the real you and are there for you, no matter what. I guess that is how its been for me too. Friends, very underrated, yet so essential. Coming from a person who is most definitely a closed book, I sometimes wonder what makes them stick to me, all these years. But whatever it is, I hope it endures, because as symbiotic relationships go, we all need each other.

S: We weren't even 6 then, and you walked up to me and asked if I wanted to be your friend. Its been 18 years and I've hugged you with joy and cried on your shoulders. And we've never had a fight, ever.

M: You are one person who sees me for what I am. One saturday we went to a computer store and then went for lunch. I cannot tell you how much I needed that day then. I need that now, more than ever. And I hope I can do that for you too.

P: When I changed all the system sounds in Windows 3.1, I came and told you and you looked at me like I had invented cold fusion. When I was surrounded by the mob and this close to getting hit, you stood in the way and raised your voice, something I have never seen you do. We lost some time, but I am glad I spoke to you.

I am so happy for all of you and a tinge of sadness that I am so far away. A mix of tumultuous feelings.

Its a bit incoherent this post, but incoherent thoughts are the only things occupying my mind right now.

Love you all...

Going nowhere

I had a flight to catch. An early morning one at that. Early - a category, which for me includes the 8am flight which I was about to board. Because it wasn't just the time which the Embraer left the gate. It was the hour and half before that which one had to spend on the airport sitting on uncomfortable plastic seats trying not to nod off on the shoulder of the person sitting next to you. Add to that the hour and half of the train journey getting to the airport, the 30 mins spent walking to the train station, not to mention all the buffer zones. Such a mislabelling of the word 'journey' when getting there is more work than the actual flight. Kind of like the Pursuit of Happyness - if 'happyness' is spending two hours in a pressurized aluminum tube rebreathing the same recirculated air.

Anyway, it wasn't the journey I was looking forward to in the first place. All I expected was falling asleep in uncomfortable sitting positions, head banging against the glass window a few times and maybe a scalding cup of so-called coffee along the way. Thus I made my way to the train station, hastily packed bag in hand, at the ungodly hour of four in the morning. I was probably the only one boarding the train at my station, understandable, considering it is close to deserted even at normal times. I couldn't even fall asleep immediately because there was a transfer which had to be made about a quarter of the way in. Once I stepped onto the next train, however, I was looking forward to a little shut eye, especially as I hadn't slept a wink since last night. Even though it was July, early mornings are always chilly, and I invariably find 70F temperature controlled environments slightly uncomfortable. I tried to settle into a halfway comfortable position, wrapping my jacket around me like a blanket to get slightly toasty. I think I drifted off because the next thing I heard was twittering.

Now I know many people, especially men (and some women too) who have encountered interesting (read: attractive) members of the opposite sex on journeys, and spent the few hours of what was looking to be a boring journey in a slightly more memorable fashion. But that had never happened to me. Unfailingly I would be seated next to a fat man who called dibs on the armrest and overflowed into my seat or the fidgety 13 year old who wouldn't stay still. The twittering was a good sign. I half opened one of my eyes to see what was going on and sitting next to me, talking animatedly to her friend across the aisle, was a blond dressed from head to toe in diaphanous white. Well, not head to toe, more like plunging-neckline to mid-thigh. Interesting, I thought and opened the aforementioned eye fully. Of course my social ineptness meant that I couldn't ever start a conversation, and anyway the presence of the friend shot that idea to hell before it even took hold. So I settled down to observe.

Something I have always wondered and which to me gives credence to the idea of some women being labelled 'cold-blooded', is how can they wear such a small amount of clothing when its cold out - and not appear to be uncomfortable in any way. Perhaps I should offer her my jacket, I wondered, chivalrous thoughts obviously being the first ones to enter my mind. But opening doors is one thing and offering jackets is an entirely different level. Plus, it would be highly embarrassing for both parties if the rumpled, sleeping guy on the next seat suddenly offered his jacket. So I stayed put. Why, in an early morning train, with several thousand empty seats did she elect to sit next to the sleeping guy, I thought. Surely, something was fishy, very fishy. Either that, or I was completely invisible to the opposite sex, which is also a distinct possibility. In any case, there were too many permutations to consider and reject. As the spirited conversation continued - much too spirited for five in the morning, actually - with lots of gesticulating and loud laughter, I thought how peaceful and uncomplicated my life had been before this apparition had appeared and how much I wanted that back. The pressure was too much. Why me! Everything was going fine before! As this train of thought was catching up speed, the train I was on slowed to a halt, the last one. I stood up and extracted my bag from the overhead rack. I turned to look back and she was nowhere to be seen.

I had my old life back.

Is that too much to expect?

Expectations can be double edged swords. What we expect from ourselves, from others, from work, from relationships - expectations can make us push the boundaries when things are going well, but when things don't go according to plan, the burden of expectations weighing us down can make the emotional baggage much much heavier.

I've heard a few people say - me included - that maybe if we didn't have any expectations to begin with then the disappointment would be much less if matters went south. It would be much easier to pick oneself up, dust off the disappointment and rejoin the game, so to say. The 'burden of expectations' plays a large factor in the negative criticism sportspersons face when they hit a bad patch and we've all seen this repeated ad infinitum with different protagonists. Does the same apply for personal expectations? Is it better to set goals and go about achieving them - getting crushed by disappointment once in a while or go about things one day at a time and just revel in the moment. Not having a lot of expectations before embarking on a task makes it much easier to recover from failure - that I can attest personally. But the very cause of low expectations was that the chance of sucess was very low in the first place. What about matters which are perceived to be easy, everyday things, where anyone has the chance to succeed. Is it easy to brush off failure then? Is it a good attitude to begin every journey with no expectation of outcome?

Its hard to put things in black and white so easily, and even more so when others are invested in your success and failures, or even when there is an audience watching (or you feel is watching). However, sometimes taking a step back and seeing what is really happenening is a eye opener of sorts.

Am I doing this because I want to or because I am expected to? is a question I have to ask myself a lot over the coming days.

Just what you want to be; You will be in the end

Nights in white satin
Never reaching the end
Letters I’ve written
Never meaning to send
Beauty I’ve always missed
With these eyes before
Just what the truth is
I can’t say anymore

'Cause I love you
Yes I love you
I love you

Gazing at people
Some hand in hand
Just what I’m going through
They can’t understand
Some try to tell me
Thoughts they cannot defend
Just what you want to be
You will be in the end

And I love you
Yes I love you
I love you
I love you

~ The Moody Blues

Fall and Rise

I look out the window
and see you standing
silent, brooding, unmoving

Your leaves turn to gold
and flutter silently away
carried on the bitter wind
and the freezing rain

As the squirrels fall asleep
and the birds fly south
leaving you alone in the dark

Do you resent your fate
that keeps you rooted
condemning you to face
this frigid loneliness

Year after year
you present a brave face
becoming a thing of beauty

Never once complaining
or letting it be known
how the budding spring
tugs at your heartstrings

Perhaps I can learn from you
The winter behind my window
will bloom to spring someday

But will the scars I bear
remind me of this strife
or fill me with hope anew
only time will tell.

I wonder why a land that can turn out brilliant advertisements, TV and print, sucks so much at the other stuff that plays on television.

So Fast, So Numb

In reality, things may not be moving very fast, but from where you stand, it sure seems so.

Like now.

Too much is not enough

This might be a familiar scenario. A group of (young) people have gathered for a party or on an outing or for no reason at all. A scene where one person has remembered to get a camera for posterity sake. A lot of pictures are clicked, group photos, candid photos, photos with tongues sticking out and rabbit ears. And there is always that moment when in those random hundred photos, a beautiful smile is captured, a pose which even hours at the studio would not perfect emerges.

And when all the heads crowd around the 2.5" screen with its limited viewing angle there is inevitably the one person who says ... "hey! that's perfect for shaadi.com!!"

Why?

When I examined pictures of my friend's red Civic, did I say ... "hey! that's perfect for motors.ebay.com!!" or when I clicked another friend's new furniture, how come there was no comment that went ... "Now that's a craigslist picture!!"

Which brings me to my second point.

In the year and some days I have spent here, I have bought the following things online (in no particular order and off the top of my head)

a. Camera
b. Accessories for (a) - Memory Card, Filters, Spare Battery, Tripod.
c. A USB powered LED snowman
d. 3 x 500GB external hard drives
e. Ipod dock / speakers
f. 100 pack of DVD+Rs ( and a 25 pack of DVD-Rs)
g. 3 plastic folders and a Sharpie (there was free shipping)
h. Wireless Router and a 802.11g USB adapter
i. T-shirt
j. Textbook

In the 23 years I spent in India (ok, only in 2 of those did I have plastic and the cash to back it up), I bought the following things online

a. N/A

Which makes me wonder ... Is the marriage sector the only significant contributor to e-commerce in India?

After all, if we think about it, the typical matrimonial listing and the motors.ebay.com listing I mentioned earlier share a lot in common...

*A term which is so brilliant in its ambiguity that it could only have been invented in a land whose media can endlessly talk about the 'minority community'. So if your fairness is like a soft roomali roti or if your not-insignificant melanin content classifies you as a whole wheat tortilla, wheatish is the umbrella you stand under. I would like to extend this further so that people like me can use ‘multigrainish’ or perhaps ‘thalipeethish’.

So in the heady world of Indian web commerce, shaadi.com is like a sweet, gooey amalgamation of ebay, amazon and deals2buy with extra chocolate chips. I can imagine anxious parents logging into their profiles and frantically punching F5 with the same thoughts crossing their minds that Shrinath had when he saw this for $499, only to have it disappear an hour later after he had 'consulted' me and three other people.

Taking it forward to a world of assorted grandmothers and uncles-with-nothing-better-to-do plugged into the cloud and utilizing the full power of web2.0, one can only imagine the 'enhancements' to the whole experience. A brave new world.

A world where you can sort the prospective matches by 'Last Name' or 'Height' or 'Color' and for the NRIs who come to India for a month to participate in this shindig, even 'Time: Ending Soonest'. A world where you can call up a google maps mashup of the locations where they reside and sort by 'Distance: closest'.

Which brings me to my third point, the need for all this in the first place.

So how is it that the guy with the yellow undershirt and red shirt with upturned collar is 'objectifying women' when he whistles at a passing girl at the bus stop but the parent who sees a textbox labelled 'Body Type' and proceeds without batting an eyelid isn't?

How is it that these sites are not the forum for exchanging ideas that they ideally should be but marketplaces to get the best deal?

How is it that I can churn out a more carefully worded ad for selling my used microwave on craigslist for $10 than most of the classified matrimonials in the newspaper on which presumably the lives of two people depend?

Isn't marrying into the same sub-sub-sub caste going stagnate the gene pool a bit and increase the chances of your offsprings' IQ going down the toilet? Unless you don't believe in evolution of course.

Does anybody wonder that if Bhishma had just left Amba alone and let her be with the guy she loved, maybe the whole Mahabharat - war - genocide - cousins killing cousins en masse - episode might not have happened.

Or whether the whole massive invasion and shock and awe tactics deployed in the Ramayan were because he loved and cared about his wife or because it was embarrassing that some villain snatched her from under his nose with the age old 'Look there!' tactic. Because I think a person who did care about his wife would not arbitrarily banish her under suspicion of infidelity.

Maybe its the way these tests were designed. While picking up uber-bow and shooting fish in the eyes may be handy skills on the battlefield, everyone knows that the real test of a good husband is the ability to accept that he is wrong all the time, put the toilet seat down, give a good foot massage and parallel parking.

So if we don't live in a world where one can wage war for countless years against evil dictators without worrying about the anti-incumbency factor or the tanking economy, why do we act like we do?

So next time assorted uncle, elder relative ticks me off about my 'internet' lifestyle, I can say that while I may order pizza on dominos.com and check weather.com before stepping out, I don't hawk my daughter online with poorly worded and demeaning advertisements which totally ignore the fact that what a person is all about can never be adequately described by even a large sized book, let alone a pay-per-word listing.

Note 1: Just dipping toes into the larger question of the existence of the whole 'arranged marriage' business. That is whole big debate by itself.

Note 2: The female imagery is because I would be looking at such a screen and copy-pasting pictures of random dudes into photoshop and rubbing a soft brush all over them makes me uncomfortable. Not sexism.

Note 3: This post came about in part due to the conversation #2 from this post, random discussions with friends and the realization that at its core religion just asks you to Eat, Drink and be Merry. All the rest is flapdoodle that
a. has no business being there. Try playing Chinese Whispers with a few million people for a few thousand years.
b. is simply not relevant anymore.
c. was used at one time by the ruling class to exploit the ignorant and the poor. We don't need that now, we have The Bailout.
d. was used to ensure that you carried on what your dad did for a living. To save on letterheads presumably.
e. we assume is the bees knees because it was written by some really clever dudes. So is windows.

Note 4: All said and done, this person is my idol. I hope he pulls it off.

No U-Turns here?

Sitting down and thinking about it, if I could go back in time a couple of years, there are some things I would do differently.

Some decisions that I have taken over the course of this time haven't really panned out and I am sure if I had put a little more thought into it at the time, life, in general would be different - better.

But then, there is no such thing as retrospective enlightenment. You don't get here unless you've been there and lived through it.

... a waste of time.

A few days ago, continuing the sporadic exchange of songs me and Sudnya conduct, I was asked to listen to 'Viva La Vida' by Coldplay... the title track of their new album. Apparently, she has shifted focus to another track on the album because she asked me to listen to 'Strawberry Swing' and I also spied this.

But it so happens that I've been listening to that song for a couple of months now and its been in the while(1) phase several times. The part that most stuck in my mind was the conclusion ...

Now the sky could be blue
I don’t mind
Without you it’s a waste of time
Could be blue
I don’t mind
Without you it’s a waste of time

Well the sky could be blue
Could be grey
Without you I’m just miles away

Well, the sky could be blue
I don’t mind
Without you it’s a waste of time

Tunnel Vision

Sometimes the tunnel is so long and winding, you cannot tell if there is light at the end of the tunnel or if you will emerge in total darkness - lost - not knowing where to go or what to do.

What one can hope for, however, is that there are tiny specks of light along the way to show you that you are on the right path - that you aren't lost yet. Just a little bit of reassurance.