So I saw a copy of the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy today in class, and well might have gone into embarrassing raptures. See the person in whose possession the book was, wasn’t as excited about the book as I was getting and well the pitch in my voice was rising, sadly it wasn’t as well taken by the other party…..
Why I get so excited about it is because its one of my favourite books in the whole world. Its my guide to life sort of, everytime I am pissed, down in the dumps, bored, need inspiration I read bits of the book and without fail it makes me cry with laughter. And somehow, something I read, few lines, a passage, anything will jump at me and make me feel alright about life.
Lets try, I’ve been wondering of late exactly where my life is going, I am halfway through my education, at an important age and stage in life, however I feel somehow I am losing all the theads of control and its disconcerting to say the least.
What did I come across that appealed to me when I grabbed the book of that fellows hand:
“Ford”, he said suddenly, “look, if that Question is printed in my brain wave patterns but I am not consciously aware of it must be somewhere in unconscious.”
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“There might be a way of bringing that unconscious pattern forward.”
“Oh, Yes?”
“Yes, by introducing some random element that can be shaped by that pattern.”
Its not the funniest line or the one that is most profound. But it hit me and all felt solvable. For people who have read the book they know what the Question embedded in his brain was. Its my towel, its my comfort book. Have I said already I love it. Its one of those books that I like keep going back to. The language, the way sentences are framed, the way he writes, what he writes, I can go on all day. I get embarrassingly sugary and sickening. I’ll end the gush here.
To Douglas Adams, Cheers! And Sir, I love you.
Another event today, this really successful person in my field came and delivered a lecture on this really technical and specific area. It was awesome, nice to hear normal English being spoken, it was comforting to be witness to effective communication. But somewhere whatever he was saying felt like another language altogether, sps, fta, chapeau, I sure would have loved a Babel Fish in my ear. ;)
You, sir, thank you for coming and making me aware of a whole new field out there. I have to say, though, that you caused a major rant spree yesterday. What if when I pass out and finally get around to being around people who speak like you, I have lost all command over the language and say stupid things like, “yeah I heard you wish from the Backside”, instead of ‘Behind’.
The perpetual struggle of changing with the times without losing who you are. If you only figure out who you are as you grow older, should you really feel afraid of becoming somebody else. I possibly am still the only 20…gosh! 21 year old who has teenage issues. Divine intervention anytime is always welcome. I am waving my towel around, any ship wish to pick me up?
Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
too late..
what do you write to an old friend?
lets check if we still are in sync?
do my words matter?
disconnected....
lets check if we still are in sync?
do my words matter?
disconnected....
Friday, December 5, 2008
Dancing.
Hey,
I like dancing in my head… ever told you that… everytime I day dream…..some form of dancing is always there…it liberates me in my mind… prolly that’s why I love watching others dance so much…. I have the rhythm but just cant open up and do it in reality.
In my head… I dance alone or with another person… to a slow songs or elvis… depends on my mood… certain songs I cant hear without picturing myself doing the perfect pirouette or the perfect quick step.
Of late.. ive had this terrible urge to waltz …. Like waltz the dance form with someone down my uni corridors....especially the one next to the lockers…on a Sunday afternoon when hardly anyone is around.
The image is :
He asks stretching his hand out I accept placing my hand… we waltz till we reach the point where the corridor for the mess and teachers lounge opens up and the the piano piece ends [has to be a piano… second best would be a sax] and I curtsy and he bows and its all over.
Some variations have fancy conversation [proper decent English] others just leave it at that.. a memory for a lifetime… did I mention what I was wearing…. A knee length skirt, a blouse and a jacket. This image makes me happy inside… it’s a phase this too shall pass.
You wouldn’t peg me as a dancer… more a head popper… a wonder my head hasn’t rolled of yet but I when I dream I dream of moving fluidly and gracefully and my tastes favour the classical both Indian and ballroom.
The best part of this day dream is I am the star, the other person doesn’t matter, its just me enjoying dancing, and to further this aim requiring a partner.
I dance in my head…. There ive said it.
XOXO
I like dancing in my head… ever told you that… everytime I day dream…..some form of dancing is always there…it liberates me in my mind… prolly that’s why I love watching others dance so much…. I have the rhythm but just cant open up and do it in reality.
In my head… I dance alone or with another person… to a slow songs or elvis… depends on my mood… certain songs I cant hear without picturing myself doing the perfect pirouette or the perfect quick step.
Of late.. ive had this terrible urge to waltz …. Like waltz the dance form with someone down my uni corridors....especially the one next to the lockers…on a Sunday afternoon when hardly anyone is around.
The image is :
He asks stretching his hand out I accept placing my hand… we waltz till we reach the point where the corridor for the mess and teachers lounge opens up and the the piano piece ends [has to be a piano… second best would be a sax] and I curtsy and he bows and its all over.
Some variations have fancy conversation [proper decent English] others just leave it at that.. a memory for a lifetime… did I mention what I was wearing…. A knee length skirt, a blouse and a jacket. This image makes me happy inside… it’s a phase this too shall pass.
You wouldn’t peg me as a dancer… more a head popper… a wonder my head hasn’t rolled of yet but I when I dream I dream of moving fluidly and gracefully and my tastes favour the classical both Indian and ballroom.
The best part of this day dream is I am the star, the other person doesn’t matter, its just me enjoying dancing, and to further this aim requiring a partner.
I dance in my head…. There ive said it.
XOXO
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
thought
Hey there, it’s been days and everytime I enter the kitchen I enter with a purpose to fill u in. I am facing a writers block of a different kind… too many things to write about so I decided lets make a start today because keeping it bottled up is getting unbearable.
Everything is different random threads that all combine together to form a firmly lodged chip on my shoulder. Bear with the incongruousness and the incomprehensibility of it all.
There is this bill board that I see every morning, of a boy transitioning from merely standing to leaping… its hilarious, the sheer stupidity of the board entertains me every morning. The champu guy, the horrible chequered shirt the awful grey pants. The message its supposed to represent, taking the CAT with their helpful coaching of course will jumpstart your life take you places you’ve never been before. I keep wondering if the clothes that that very realistic model is wearing are branded or not as if that would be the final hit on the nail. I don’t know what the point I am driving at is or maybe I know but just can’t say due to the whole incorrectness of it all.
Attrition: everything that was me…. See I used ‘was’ and not ‘is’. Is fading…. I am undergoing attrition, my personality is more likely. Did I ever peg myself as desperate, now I am… I have this fantastic notion of ranting on end to this person about nothing and everything that even notionally bothers me. I am a lot bothered these days so my fantastic friends bear the brunt of terribly pseudo conversations on life, love, labour, where I am going why I don’t want to think about where I am going. All my life if I came to the realisation that I did not have an answer for what next I would lock jamb till I reasoned, thought, argued, sought advise and finally figured out what the answer was. The first thing I did subconsciously on coming here is disable that prompt. Stop thinking what next because it could no longer be ascertained, fine I tried planning semesters that failed gloriously, then it narrowed down to months, weeks, days and now hours. What will I be doing in the next hour? If I have an answer to that it’s an accomplishment. I am thoroughly lost in myself with these very perturbing thoughts perennially plaguing me. I am nervous that if I lose myself what am I left with and paradoxically I need to give in a little to do… just simply DO.
I cannot conform to the rules of this place yet I don’t intrinsically agree to rebel. I have started hating these words more than you can imagine, their meaning is now forever tagged with things that I don’t like discussing even in my head.
The need for an addiction rises everyday… blissful oblivion….. Yet that is the one thing I will never acquire. It is a firm, etched in Rosetta stone fact, it’s my foundation. If that cracks I crumble never to resurrect. I read a beautiful line in some blog the other day the beggars would rather resort to buying marijuana than food because they will never have enough to satisfy the hunger but they have enough to forget that they ever were hungry. I want to forget my hunger like that. I tried substituting mental hunger with real physical hunger it made me sick, I doubled up with pain for a whole night never to try it again. But it helped me get rid of certain unnecessary habits. I am perpetually haunted by this image, I am trying to measure up to this ideal which isn’t an ideal and neither is it perfection in my head. Yet I try continuously to measure up.
I am bothered by this heat; either I am not used to heat through out the year- the more plausible one. Or I am not used to this kind of heat. Scalding hot giving no respite, burning in its fury, I hate it. Where did the winter go did I blink just when it came? Seasons guide my perception of time. I feel more in a different time sphere everyday. I wish I could draw or cartoon, I’d make a hero working and living in different parallel spheres of time. A different life a different story in each time.
I have both paucity of time and paucity of things to do. I fill up my schedule only to feel completely utterly lost, purposeless. I say grand things they sound hollow. I question before I can assert weakening my own point. I am becoming more and more unsure everyday to my chagrin. The only time I make a point is when I shouldn’t. I am afraid of making my opinions known but they come out as a reflex. I don’t bother about what people think yet to verify that I ask other people. I am unstable, with no one in my corner. No that’s not true I have absolute sweethearts in my corner. But everyday, anyone I meet will never fail to remind me that it doesn’t last… friendships don’t last, same sex and friends- NEVER. As if getting a boyfriend is the solution of it all. How and when did people substitute friendship for companionship I don’t know, there is a fine line I agree but a distinction exists. Yet I am buying their arguments because contradicting them is tiring me, its me against the majority, I am failing miserably, my shouts have become squeaks. I doubt my own premise now. My opponents don’t speak very eloquent language but they are training to be lawyers and are not so easy to be brainwashed. They’d rather sell a man a suicide plan than admit that the opponent could be right.
This insecurity has crept in my every action my every thought and it’s like I am seeing myself fall flat on my face in slow motion. Today I wrote to someone, life here is fast, exciting, hectic, supersonic and its great fun till I lose balance and then the tangential force would be so strong it will throw me far away from the sphere of life. Abandoned, homeless.
Things change too fast for me to like. Relationships are changing some are returning back to normal. There is no permanency besides the claustrophobia which is all pervasive, strangulating all. Everywhere I see people I don’t want to see and can’t see people I want to see. The irrelevants blocking out the relevant in life, in everything. I wish I could just talk to the handful whom I would like to continue talking to and some who I’d like to know more about and remove the ogling, brain-dead, oxygen stealing nincompoops.
STOP! Something small trivial yet essential to existence is bothering me and I can’t put my finger on it. I need a thought niffler to search out the real gold coin from the rest of the leprechaun gold coins. What is the real issue? all these problems are just the tip of the iceberg and I don’t possess neither the clarity of thought nor the objectivity to reach the real issue. That is why I wander aimlessly hoping against hope hopen for such a saviour.
But that search has become an all out desperate call for help. What is real? What is normal? To question in the comfort of a grounding is different the same done on unfamiliar grounds shakes you to the core leaving you befuddled and torn. Am I being too melodramatic? Maybe I need some drama in my life? But how much more, I am the lead in a film I never gave consent to act in, but being me was a tacit consent it seems. I am getting sucked into this whirlpool which I don’t know where it will take me. The currents are strong and I am getting tired fighting it. But where does it lead? The question no longer is how long can I resist but I guess where will it take me and will I be able to survive? This compromise sickens me…. I have fallen from grace on multiple levels. Can I be like the phoenix and resurrect from my ashes? The only problem is this ‘thing’ ensures that I am not completely broken and burnt to start afresh but merely dented and cracked such that only repair is possible and that the value keeps depreciating till one day I would be worth nothing. Am I moving to nothingness? I need an intervention of the divine kinds. Any answers?
Confusedly yours,
Everything is different random threads that all combine together to form a firmly lodged chip on my shoulder. Bear with the incongruousness and the incomprehensibility of it all.
There is this bill board that I see every morning, of a boy transitioning from merely standing to leaping… its hilarious, the sheer stupidity of the board entertains me every morning. The champu guy, the horrible chequered shirt the awful grey pants. The message its supposed to represent, taking the CAT with their helpful coaching of course will jumpstart your life take you places you’ve never been before. I keep wondering if the clothes that that very realistic model is wearing are branded or not as if that would be the final hit on the nail. I don’t know what the point I am driving at is or maybe I know but just can’t say due to the whole incorrectness of it all.
Attrition: everything that was me…. See I used ‘was’ and not ‘is’. Is fading…. I am undergoing attrition, my personality is more likely. Did I ever peg myself as desperate, now I am… I have this fantastic notion of ranting on end to this person about nothing and everything that even notionally bothers me. I am a lot bothered these days so my fantastic friends bear the brunt of terribly pseudo conversations on life, love, labour, where I am going why I don’t want to think about where I am going. All my life if I came to the realisation that I did not have an answer for what next I would lock jamb till I reasoned, thought, argued, sought advise and finally figured out what the answer was. The first thing I did subconsciously on coming here is disable that prompt. Stop thinking what next because it could no longer be ascertained, fine I tried planning semesters that failed gloriously, then it narrowed down to months, weeks, days and now hours. What will I be doing in the next hour? If I have an answer to that it’s an accomplishment. I am thoroughly lost in myself with these very perturbing thoughts perennially plaguing me. I am nervous that if I lose myself what am I left with and paradoxically I need to give in a little to do… just simply DO.
I cannot conform to the rules of this place yet I don’t intrinsically agree to rebel. I have started hating these words more than you can imagine, their meaning is now forever tagged with things that I don’t like discussing even in my head.
The need for an addiction rises everyday… blissful oblivion….. Yet that is the one thing I will never acquire. It is a firm, etched in Rosetta stone fact, it’s my foundation. If that cracks I crumble never to resurrect. I read a beautiful line in some blog the other day the beggars would rather resort to buying marijuana than food because they will never have enough to satisfy the hunger but they have enough to forget that they ever were hungry. I want to forget my hunger like that. I tried substituting mental hunger with real physical hunger it made me sick, I doubled up with pain for a whole night never to try it again. But it helped me get rid of certain unnecessary habits. I am perpetually haunted by this image, I am trying to measure up to this ideal which isn’t an ideal and neither is it perfection in my head. Yet I try continuously to measure up.
I am bothered by this heat; either I am not used to heat through out the year- the more plausible one. Or I am not used to this kind of heat. Scalding hot giving no respite, burning in its fury, I hate it. Where did the winter go did I blink just when it came? Seasons guide my perception of time. I feel more in a different time sphere everyday. I wish I could draw or cartoon, I’d make a hero working and living in different parallel spheres of time. A different life a different story in each time.
I have both paucity of time and paucity of things to do. I fill up my schedule only to feel completely utterly lost, purposeless. I say grand things they sound hollow. I question before I can assert weakening my own point. I am becoming more and more unsure everyday to my chagrin. The only time I make a point is when I shouldn’t. I am afraid of making my opinions known but they come out as a reflex. I don’t bother about what people think yet to verify that I ask other people. I am unstable, with no one in my corner. No that’s not true I have absolute sweethearts in my corner. But everyday, anyone I meet will never fail to remind me that it doesn’t last… friendships don’t last, same sex and friends- NEVER. As if getting a boyfriend is the solution of it all. How and when did people substitute friendship for companionship I don’t know, there is a fine line I agree but a distinction exists. Yet I am buying their arguments because contradicting them is tiring me, its me against the majority, I am failing miserably, my shouts have become squeaks. I doubt my own premise now. My opponents don’t speak very eloquent language but they are training to be lawyers and are not so easy to be brainwashed. They’d rather sell a man a suicide plan than admit that the opponent could be right.
This insecurity has crept in my every action my every thought and it’s like I am seeing myself fall flat on my face in slow motion. Today I wrote to someone, life here is fast, exciting, hectic, supersonic and its great fun till I lose balance and then the tangential force would be so strong it will throw me far away from the sphere of life. Abandoned, homeless.
Things change too fast for me to like. Relationships are changing some are returning back to normal. There is no permanency besides the claustrophobia which is all pervasive, strangulating all. Everywhere I see people I don’t want to see and can’t see people I want to see. The irrelevants blocking out the relevant in life, in everything. I wish I could just talk to the handful whom I would like to continue talking to and some who I’d like to know more about and remove the ogling, brain-dead, oxygen stealing nincompoops.
STOP! Something small trivial yet essential to existence is bothering me and I can’t put my finger on it. I need a thought niffler to search out the real gold coin from the rest of the leprechaun gold coins. What is the real issue? all these problems are just the tip of the iceberg and I don’t possess neither the clarity of thought nor the objectivity to reach the real issue. That is why I wander aimlessly hoping against hope hopen for such a saviour.
But that search has become an all out desperate call for help. What is real? What is normal? To question in the comfort of a grounding is different the same done on unfamiliar grounds shakes you to the core leaving you befuddled and torn. Am I being too melodramatic? Maybe I need some drama in my life? But how much more, I am the lead in a film I never gave consent to act in, but being me was a tacit consent it seems. I am getting sucked into this whirlpool which I don’t know where it will take me. The currents are strong and I am getting tired fighting it. But where does it lead? The question no longer is how long can I resist but I guess where will it take me and will I be able to survive? This compromise sickens me…. I have fallen from grace on multiple levels. Can I be like the phoenix and resurrect from my ashes? The only problem is this ‘thing’ ensures that I am not completely broken and burnt to start afresh but merely dented and cracked such that only repair is possible and that the value keeps depreciating till one day I would be worth nothing. Am I moving to nothingness? I need an intervention of the divine kinds. Any answers?
Confusedly yours,
Saturday, November 24, 2007
Hands!(dickens)
utilitarianism................ now i understand the term.
i comitted the biggest faux pas i tried googling myself in the belief that there wont be enough entries to cover my greatness. i unfortnately failed to realize i am a mere statistic in the world.
the links attached to my name were my board roll numbers and scores, my entrance exam rankings. the places where i had applied and gotten in.
ive been reduced to 6 digit number assigned to me years ago. awesome!
i am a mere hand in this utilitarian world. i finally understand dickens hard times.
hands....................... humph!
i comitted the biggest faux pas i tried googling myself in the belief that there wont be enough entries to cover my greatness. i unfortnately failed to realize i am a mere statistic in the world.
the links attached to my name were my board roll numbers and scores, my entrance exam rankings. the places where i had applied and gotten in.
ive been reduced to 6 digit number assigned to me years ago. awesome!
i am a mere hand in this utilitarian world. i finally understand dickens hard times.
hands....................... humph!
Sunday, November 18, 2007
a road trip
so i went for a field trip with the family + 2.
it was interesting. we went to mewat to a village called Adbar Gaon.
dusty yet while there being mobbed by the children due to V's accent and J's obvious difference it wasnt that noticeable. today i suffer from the aftermath.
alot of things happened met the children the old ladies, saman around 16 and sajjad around 10 were our guides.
sajjad was one of the smartest 10yr old i have met. he explained to me the cropping system- winter=mustard, summer=jowar. they use the thrashed jowar hay as buffalo feed.
in his innocent worldliness he told me when new people come they become star attractions for the children of the village.- "bacchoan ki to rel lag jati hai"
saman was an enterprising budding teacher who taught urdu and even made one of her star pupils recite a poem to us.
we became more than just star attractions with 40 kids surrounding us, trying out a comparitive study between my black hair and J's golden brown hair. she joked it off by calling them 'budding scientists'.i frankly was overwhelmed by the whole attention. i think i started of quite okay but towards the end i dont who was more shy the people i met or me. i guess fame makes me bashful. lol!!!
we were treated to a feast of bajre ka roti and a dish made out of roti, jaggery and ghee. i loved it. J finally got some chicken and fish and you could see the happiness.it was funny, there were 6 vegetarians and 2 non-veggies and there were more dishes for the non-veggies than the veggies and yet we all left stuffed. so u can guess the lavish spread.
enroute to mewat we stopped at bhondsi to visit the temple there. the peacocks, the beauty its extravagant. the priest there gave me a mustard oil based nose drops with peppermint, aloe vera, eucalyptus extracts all from the trees growing in bhondsi. it smelled alot like vicks and was the only reason i didnt go crazy with the pain in dusty mewat. it kept my headache under check and immediately opened my nose. ma joked that i smiled for the first time after getting some of that elixir in my nose.
a very interesting day all in all.
it was interesting. we went to mewat to a village called Adbar Gaon.
dusty yet while there being mobbed by the children due to V's accent and J's obvious difference it wasnt that noticeable. today i suffer from the aftermath.
alot of things happened met the children the old ladies, saman around 16 and sajjad around 10 were our guides.
sajjad was one of the smartest 10yr old i have met. he explained to me the cropping system- winter=mustard, summer=jowar. they use the thrashed jowar hay as buffalo feed.
in his innocent worldliness he told me when new people come they become star attractions for the children of the village.- "bacchoan ki to rel lag jati hai"
saman was an enterprising budding teacher who taught urdu and even made one of her star pupils recite a poem to us.
we became more than just star attractions with 40 kids surrounding us, trying out a comparitive study between my black hair and J's golden brown hair. she joked it off by calling them 'budding scientists'.i frankly was overwhelmed by the whole attention. i think i started of quite okay but towards the end i dont who was more shy the people i met or me. i guess fame makes me bashful. lol!!!
we were treated to a feast of bajre ka roti and a dish made out of roti, jaggery and ghee. i loved it. J finally got some chicken and fish and you could see the happiness.it was funny, there were 6 vegetarians and 2 non-veggies and there were more dishes for the non-veggies than the veggies and yet we all left stuffed. so u can guess the lavish spread.
enroute to mewat we stopped at bhondsi to visit the temple there. the peacocks, the beauty its extravagant. the priest there gave me a mustard oil based nose drops with peppermint, aloe vera, eucalyptus extracts all from the trees growing in bhondsi. it smelled alot like vicks and was the only reason i didnt go crazy with the pain in dusty mewat. it kept my headache under check and immediately opened my nose. ma joked that i smiled for the first time after getting some of that elixir in my nose.
a very interesting day all in all.
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