the times of fast foods and slow digestion..

Times when the world was flat and we weren’t so sucked into the concrete instead we had muddy feet and bicycle rides making tracks down memory lane, now the taillights of our cars are rampant in various directions, none leading towards a place I call home.. And once they are off I’m left in the dark.

Breaking mirrors and staring at the back of steel plates and silhouettes of the past that refuses to leave our side, a hazy picture meanders at the back of my head. Not exactly a ghost of unfinished business rather the comfort of that smell of old times spent, taste of fresh earth that we struck once in a while, the memory of loved ones cooking ‘my favorite food’, the yells that had strong undertones of love rather than rage. Childish longings, I have come a long way from pigtails and scarlet ribbons adorning them, but the craving for the non material simple things in life... the magic that ceased to be magical now, the fairytales on which my dreams were founded, the rush I got running in circles escaping the ‘lock’ hit,
All over the horizon.

Walking in my slippers trying to trace back on that silk route, along the way I realize the quote “there's no place like home,” doesn’t hold true, but rather that there is no longer such a place as home except, of course, for the homes we make, or the homes that are made for us anywhere and everywhere, except the place from which we began. I have become the fallible adult; the world has grown into me, over me, taken me by a wave of materialistic needs onto the shore of wants, far from the redemptions of those childhood dreams. Im now a part of a world where things we see with our own eyes we doubt, instead conspire behind the peepers to believe what is beneficial instead of the truth, where people sell emotions for a promotion and tackle their families with tact and manipulation. The celebration of the familial bond that binds us is passé. Now we spend our life accumulating things we call ‘assets’ and fussing over them, to earn a place on the social ladder, we care too much about the ‘society’ than our conscience; the intricacies of a family gathering today mite as well become a synonym for ‘business time’.

Solidifying the fluid emotions..
“We drink too much, smoke too much, spend too recklessly, laugh too little,
drive too fast, get too angry, stay up too late, get up too tired, read too
little, watch TV too much, and pray too seldom. We have multiplied our
possessions, but reduced our values. We talk too much, love too seldom, and
hate too often. We've learned how to make a living, but not a life. We've added years to
life not life to years. We've been all the way to the moon and back, but
have trouble crossing the street to meet a new neighbor. We conquered outer
space but not inner space. We've done larger things, but not better things. ”--Bob Moorehead.

and then came hope..

From your memories, sad brother—from the fitful risings and fallings I heard,
From under that yellow half-moon, late-risen, and swollen as if with tears,
From those beginning notes of sickness and love, there in the transparent mist,
From the thousand responses of my heart, never to cease,
From the myriad thence-arous’d words,
From the word stronger and more delicious than any,
From such, as now they start, the scene revisiting,
As a flock, twittering, rising, or overhead passing,
Borne hither—ere all eludes me, hurriedly,
A man—yet by these tears a little boy again,
Throwing myself on the sand, confronting the waves,
I, chanter of pains and joys, uniter of here and hereafter,
Taking all hints to use them—but swiftly leaping beyond them,
A reminiscence sing. "
— Walt Whitman (Song of Myself)

Why is it that we cant put the past away, everyone likes to take a stroll down memory lane and think about the life that was, there is an aspect of our spirit that is historian, a bit of a pedant who reminisces or remembers things that were. We all are bombarded with the clichéd thoughts of ‘What it all meant’ clashing the curvatures of our heads until the brain hemorrhages and the train of thought sooner or later gets derailed and we act on the trauma and head towards the jar of memories stored in brine safely kept away till this moment struck. These thoughts are sometimes constant like the patterns of dust on the butterflies wings, only when the wings flap swiftly do the patterns stick on..

Talking about things that fly and jars..I think about Pandora and the jar she opened which let out evils in the guise of horrid brown winged creatures..She let them all out first but she shut hope in the jar until she let it out the second time

In a time when the air was pure and balmy, and sickness and evils unknown she went ahead and opened the jar...Similarly in times when life is good I feel the need to walk down memory lane, open the jar of memories stored away...Thinking maybe, just maybe the second time around I would find hope.

“Hope...which is whispered from Pandora’s box only after all the other plagues and sorrows had escaped, is the best and last of all things. Without it, there is only time. And time pushes at our backs like a centrifuge, forcing us outward and away, until it nudges us into oblivion."
— Ian Caldwell

strangling the life out of life.

Wrestling with the idea that deviation from the normal is good but what good is deviation when the society does not accept it instead you get shoved into bitterness and self contempt. My thoughts maybe clear but my words are produced in a clumsy disharmony and in monotonous repetition of subjects that continue to bother. Experience has taught me that running away is of no good cos when u run what u find at the end of the tunnel is seldom light and plus what am I running from and what am I running to?
People think they have me figured out…how is that when I myself am half perceived. Some think my unpredictability is predictable and some think its insane and ive taken the form of a shape shifter. I am a shape shifter I am shaped by the opinions of every single person; no two peoples being the same. We like things that seem ordained with the laws of nature and our own desires to an extent and anything that defies that is abnormal. I don’t think others could pacify me in times of need neither can I pacify anyone in their time of need because we all suffer from residues of past apprehensions.
In this normality or abnormality however one sees it what keeps me going and grounded are memories. Memories of a happy time, memories of pain and longing, memories of fear that lurked within for years and that defines my life and how well it is lived without any boundaries of judgments.

in or out?

“You said I began this messy state of love affair and I drink too much and smoke too fast…
And this city's cleared my innocence
Coffee is pouring out my ears It's the only thing they have in here and my heart stops beating…
And my hearts stopped beating
And when it stops it stops
My heart stopped beating
And when it stops it stops
My heart stopped beating….”

Threnody..Rock songs…poetry..Epitaphs...every piece of literature or art talks about life. The various shades of grey. White. Black. Red. I wonder if the subject is actually that overrated or do we just magnify our situations more than we should..
What is life?
Ive heard it a million times..its all about playing it smart..about manipulation..about using people to my advantage..about ‘taking lite’ and ive never really paid so much attention to any of the advice given to me… and now I feel ensnared and manipulated and pathetic.
I don’t know if this is how the world all over functions or is it all in my head…do I really have to be ‘cut throat’ to get ahead always…does being cut throat mean stepping over my friends and family..Who are my friends..the real ones…how can one tell?? Am I really still trapped in my past?? I have soooo many questions with no logical answers. . . .what happened to the days when all that mattered was the company and now where u went or how much money u spent..Do ppl have peer pressure at all ages? is this actually peer pressure or just all inside my head?
On the other hand… I’m mostly happy not exactly depressed or lamentable...I’m mostly imbued with the traumas of life and the questions lurking in my head about existence and purpose more like my blogs..not exactly insincere but desperately inflated. I feel utterly purposeless and extravagant right now…

pardon me id like the easiest way out.

the four letter word

Conformation is what binds us all...conformation of trust, happiness, the idea of being with someone...security is what thrusts us into an emotion called love. some says it makes the world go round some say it makes the believer blind... but what is love? the most overrated sought after four letter word which describes a abyss of feelings and twirling emotions. but hate is a four letter word too...and its just the opposite. is that why ppl say opposites attract?? cos one ure done with all the loving then comes the hating?
we live in a 'society' the idea of which is made up by grim and depressing people who have nothing better to do than dwell on others lives and who when they have something to do are utter bores.. so im thinking this whole 'idea' was brought out by the same melancholy and boredom driven individuals. i mean how lame are we...we have valentines day which is dedicated solely to the 'lovers' and this whole feeling of love is so commercialized that i wouldn't even know if i was in love if my guy didn't adorn me and flatter me with flowers and candy and same with hate...i wouldn't know how much i hate someone unless i return the gifts or cry myself to sleep every night...oh wait..if i don't do that the way Cameron Dias or our own bollywood drama queens would do it does that mean i don't hate or love someone for real?

OK lemme try hating my style: The male is a biological accident the Y (male) gene is an incomplete X (female) gene that has an incomplete set of chromosomes. In other words the male is an incomplete female a walking abortion aborted at the gene stage. To be male is to be deficient emotionally limited maleness is a deficiency disease and males are emotional cripples.
i can imagine every male rolling their eyes over my style and some females defending the males while the others feel reassured in the insulting and think they can do better than what they previously had.

and my way of loving would be Forrest gump style...head on...excessive serotonin rushes...butterflies in the stomach... the whole looking forward to things and new beginnings and with least amount of expectations...only if i were him..and that naive. but i don't think with all the manipulation and the debauchery i can ever do that hence i settle for the stereotypical way. but if i could i would. since i cant...i run..like him...to move past the pain and the longing.

while i was dreaming..

if all i ever dreamed came true would i still want more?
if all i want is to be happy is that too much to ask for?
if i had an umbrella for all my emotional downpours.
if i had an oven to bake my heart and make it fluffy with the toppings of love..
if i could tape every awkward but comforting silence..
if i could dive in a pool of redemption..
if i could give wholesome everything to the starved souls..
if i could control the brightness of the stars..
if i could use to straightener to straighten the tangles in my mind..
if i could burn a CD of each memory..every moment of my life..
if i could carve a permanent smile on those faces which i adore the most..
if i could fix things with fevi quick..
if i could wear my attitude in red and my character as makeup..
if i could be the fizz in the drink of hope..
if i could hug away the sorrows of life..
if i could be a gush in the winds of change..

could i ask for more?

What is wrong with Varun?!?!

Election time..the time when the contenders lose themselves in the unarticulated magic of the masses and are propelled by their approval and praise. They feel unintruded upon amidst the multitudes of followers who believe in them and their voice sublimates into the public sphere and echos peace and assurance. But something was amiss with Varun Gandhi..The optimistic peace loving philosophy of youth had given up on him and he could only hear the echoes of his phoney illusions in his head which led him to make propostorus statements about religion and politics. It more like Shakespeare tragedies all end based on the flimsiest of evidence.
The Muslims moral groundings are based on the polarities of honor and shame and the Sikhs believe in peace. No religion as such preaches violence but this poetry writing disturbed lad seemed to have a religion of his own. His statements are products not only of his idiosyncratic personal vision but somewhere down the line his upbringing seemed to take a toll. Can we blame Indira Gandhi for this?? Or should we let him roll in the mud of self pity in jail?
His statements developed new fuels out of gossip and like in delhi6 this kalabandhar caused havoc in the nation. The harsh reality of this situation is probably that he was not acting against the morals of society and its beliefs but against the conformation that holds it together. Like mentioned in Kushwant Singhs article this boy was raised by a Muslim and was a pensive poetry writing Gandhi kid…but like they say the snake always sheds its skin and this is what he really is before the plain un-gilted mirror of reality.

(P.S written in throes of malicious and pessimistic thoughts...so its as honest and may i add vindictive as i get)

when one thought lead to another...

The big bang theory.. That’s how the world began..According to science at least... things flew apart the center was not the locus for formations anymore it was haphazard matter clumped with other matter and the primal soup grew more lumpy with more transformations and that’s how the stars, planets, single celled organisms, humans, fish, dinosaurs, mammals and everything else followed then came.. LIFE.
The birth of things or birth itself is a feel good feeling cos it’s the innocence and naivety that’s makes us feel warm and fuzzy and the whole process of being ‘born’ or giving ‘birth’ feels exhilarating. It’s a path unknown everyone’s scared and it’s a state of mixed feelings. Since we are wired to be happy at the start of things we do so. But after that the rest of the process gets complicated and Shakespeare said the 7 stages explain it all…we come and we leave it’s a vicious cycle.

What abt the process in between?? I’m not going to say we are products of gods creation or give any scientific explanations because its too controversial a topic and more like discarded topics in the corners of my babble. The philosophy of naturalism which is that of the visible; cannot explain it for we precede it...but lets assume like the big bang theory we are composed of light, heat and dust cos that makes more sense...

Inside us all we have this capricious conceited being who resists boundaries, rebelling rules, shapeshifting transgressive..more like a shadow which trespasses sense and sensibility. There are times our reactions have no explanations more like an out of body experience where the spirit within escapes the chains of what we know ourselves to be; rising in defiance, provoked by captivity where the worlds rules and reasons are a waste. I always gave this state a term..stress is what I called it but its more than stress…it’s a state which everyone goes through some choose to suppress it and some choose to let it out rising in delirium…the brain is out of the groove and life is burning on a shorter fuse and it’s a feeling more like that of thorns or blades twisting in every gut..the feeling of being backstabbed by our faith in the course that things should take.. but went otherwise.

In classical Greek mythology there is a reason why each deity was given the particular role. Aphrodite wasn’t just called the goddess of love for no reason and Eumenides the goddess of wrath technically they were born together …it is When the Titan Cronos castrated his father Uranus and threw his genitalia into the sea, Eumenides emerged from the drops of blood, while Aphrodite was born from the sea foam …it is the circumstances that proved their role; like in each play an actor has a role to play. In Shakespeare’s words ‘ all worlds a stage and we are all actors’ every individual has a part to play but sometimes circumstances bring out the worst in people and generally it’s people that bring out the worst in people. We live in a society where we are judged based on beauty or on our fiscal bounties or if u lack both but have the gift of the gab then u can make it through… but these qualities alone aren’t enough..cos if it were then half the world would be happy and we wouldn’t go though the whirlpool of contradictory emotions.
It is much more.. hundred percent is not enough anymore.. so to summarize my gurgling explosion of thoughts id say..life is not simple as it is…but we further complicate it everyday cos we forget to count to ten and then speak…we live on impulsion and every theory is based on impulsive collisions… so if ure head hurting..Its good...It’s called thinking…just don’t go too far with it.

Its summer!! my rose tinted glasses are back on!!

“Our forever is composed of now”…

I keep procrastinating my work, emotions, promises that I have to keep everyday; waiting on a tomorrow which never seems to come…Including meeting old friends or a simple thing like writing a blog. I say “we’ll meet up one of these days” “I’ll do it one of these days”. Somehow I have even lost the inclination to say ‘ill do it tomorrow’ because tomorrow seems too soon for me to decide on things and today seems impossible.

I’ve been drifting into the engulfing full time experience my today has to offer which fulfills me deeply for the moment but on the big picture basis I think im drifting into a fog of disturbed pattern less timescale and loss of direction which thickens each day with the amount of time I waste just sitting around at my lab doing nothing constructive.

I still think and daydream about the world being a place of wonders where life is simple and the present moment is all we have to worry about and the future is limitless and infinite and doesn’t need much attention and the past being useless and fortunately gone for good. Wrapped in my sorcerer’s blanket of childishness I don’t seem to have moved on to my new fond adult life and everything it has to offer.

I’ve often wondered about 5 years from now and I don’t have the slightest clue as to where I would be or what I would do and that does pull me out of my comfort zone but then again I drift back to my present because who knows what the future holds…cos no one can possible predict their future even if its some oracle!

Yesterday I got this mail from TCS which read “welcome to the world of certainty, we help you make a smooth transition from campus life to corporate life…watch this space for more details” and I thought…certainty in a world where recession has taken a toll on the economy and everything is haywire..Especially in the IT sector…it seems more like a euphemism for slavery and self doubt and most importantly oxymoronic rather than comforting. I want the Job they have to offer I really do but the ‘certainty’ got to me because ironically while I was reading the mail I got a call from them asking me about my GPA and how I need to keep my grades up to get the offer letter. “you have to fit the criteria” he said and im thinking what criteria is left to fill when I was handpicked by them. After the call I was overwhelmed with a feeling of insecurity and self doubt and this little animation played out in my head…I was a dot in a big circle which was barely visible but visible enough to tell the circle wasn’t plain but had a dot in the center. I make a difference and that’s important for me to know.

Right now…exactly at this very moment life seems kind of indistinct, like a picture where the photographers hand shook a little. Clarity-blur.

There is so much happening in the world around and somehow nothing seems to affect me. All I care about is fulfilling my wants and catering to me needs. I’ve become so self involved and narcissistic and laid back, its been a while since I thought about someone else and their issues, feelings, etc. or even a simple thought like doing something for my parents or friends hasn’t struck a chord.

Yesterday a friend of mine said ‘Ramya don’t u think it’s the small things in life that really matter’ and the normal emotionally driven me would have said ‘obviously’ in my high pitched tone but instead I said ‘ya rite! Are u drunk?’

Someone said “the human race is a life sentence it is a rough confinement and sometimes we all need to break out of jail” But im majorly confined in my head and how can one walk out of their mind? I realized there is no depth to my connection with anything..everything lasts while it lasts and id like to believe that I miss things which are lost but I realized honestly its only when im alone and I have nothing to do is when I think about those things…on an average day when I am surrounded by people and work im good. Im super actually.

Is that how everyone feels or is it just me? I wonder…

I look at things around me like beautiful houses, cars..etc and I tell myself ten years down the line I will own a house like that and ten years down the line…
I want to be successful, I want to make my parents proud, I want take care of my family and friends, I’ll get serious work hard and party less, I’ll settle with someone who is just like one of my friends..
But I realized I don’t have to wait ten years for any of those things to happens…well maybe a house and my black lamborghini I have to wait on…but the other things I can do them all right now…It is indeed my now that makes my tomorrow and my forever.

Wise wise Emily Dickinson!!

Must read.

http://mindramble-prad.blogspot.com/

emancipation of me.

Changes in character like that of night and day..manipulative tongue preceded that of his word ..
Chasing illusions of trust and warmth; im cold now. Tasting the death of my emotions in the deluded infactuations cornered in hallucinations floats my lifeless image suspended in emptiness.
Blank. White noise.
Debauchery and indulgence coupled with emptiness and wrath mask my soul. I carve a smile on it to make it look real while my soul wanders into a place where there are no bounderies.
Freedom is a state of mind.
Floating..trying to get a grip of assurance..falling…not freely but bound by the society.
I want to see the white light; the exaggerated state of euphoria..take me there..offer me the world before I blink I want to live.
Crawling past pain into torture im starting to enjoy this. Masochism is therapeutic. Narcissism pulled me through.
We come alone we leave alone. Everything in between is transient.