I was sitting here and wondering and wandering and stumbling when I fell into this drum labelled introspection. There was this poem I wrote, a long time back. Something about how stones on the road aren't loved, because no one needs to love them. And I was thinking. And twirling my hair around my index finger. And twisting my index finger around my hair. How the fuck do you graduate from being a stone to being a plant? Or a dog or a pair of sandals or you know, if you really want to over-reach, a human.
In the end, which was like ten seconds ago, and hasn't quite really become the end, I figured you're just you. You know. Then you're a stone for me. A parakeet for someone else. A broomstick for some other guy. You can't help it. Because you're nothing basically, outside your own self. And then there's people who know that. For whom you are you. And then you are a human. Which is kind of good. Because the whole chain of reasoning maintains that humans are nothing, but humans. The last sentence deserves to be read one more time. Please.
Whatever way. Don't think I am very human yet. Still some earth left in me. Here and there. And everywhere. So yea. I am still having a bummer of a time working through my project. Yesterday we went for a job-treat a couple of my friends threw. Whoooo! And the winner is - Haryali Kabab! Nah, its the Gosht Husaini Handi. Of course, we robbed the poor bastards. Whooooo!
Well, since this blog is in itself an act of self-promotion. Here's the poem I was talking about. Comment if you want to. Nobody hates comments you know. Anonymous, synonymous. Whatever.

The whistles of a stone

* Text removed by author *

PS: This poem was first published in M.A.G. (Muse Apprentice Guild), so don't copy it. Or not me, but they will sue you. And they have shitloads of money to waste you know.


The Freeze

Today's been so damn frustrating. Outright crazy. I have this thing to do. This programming which is kind of like my final project for my degree. And today I had set a major target, because tomorrow I have to meet my guide. I tried to sit and work. A million times. I can't. I'd rather sleep, read, strum, bowl, listen to music etc. But nopes. Can't get my darn head to think of the problem at hand. Gosh, if only there was some pill you pop in and all your energies get diverted to that singlemostest onliest thing you wish to focus on. F@%$.
Watched a string of movies recently. Training Day, Vanilla Sky, Hamlet (the direct from Shakespeare 1948 Academy Award Winner thing). Boy! Hamlet was hard to understand. It's a two hour movie, and I was able to complete it only after around four hours. It's all Shakespeare man. I still don't get some of the dialogues!! But it was fun, for sure. And the direction and acting are just awesome.
String reminds me. I am going to buy a rosary! The other day I found myself treating my key ring as if it were a rosary. So yea, let's see what I do with the real thing. Fun fun!! But it will be around a week before I go out to get it. So yea, till then there's keyrings and keyboards and stuff.


Lucky Ali concert

Just came back from a Lucky Ali concert. Whoa! That guy is good. Really is. Most of the stuff I have been to has been loud and/or upbeat. But Lucky Ali was kind of mellow. Soft and soothing. Though some people still found reasons to leave their seats and jump about. But as far as I go, it was delight. No making the crowd wait. No dramas in between songs. Just solid music. His voice is good. It has depth and is capable of singing the kind of lyrics his songs have. There is also his distinctive style of song-making with them little no meaning rhymes thrown in between, just to make it all palatable. Altogether, a very satisfying blend. And I have to mention his band too! There was this amazing flautist. He was the soul of the music. Besides him there were two guitarists, a drummer and a percussionist. The base guitarist had weird rasta hair! Pretty darn cool. And he played mean too. Then there was this lead guitarist. He was on an acoustic! He played very beautifully, interspersing some very corny, but effective and tricky leads and riffs with good arpeggios and chords. The final point being, these guys gelled, and the outcome was some good soulful music.



Saarang, the cultural festival of our university begins today. It's the last one with me in it. Yeallow! I am not sure what I will do there, but I will certainly show up. There's a Lucky Ali concert. So that's bound to be good.
Today morning I was talking to this acquaintance of mine. And it drifted into the definition of happiness. Yea, quite weird a topic to discuss at 1000 in the morning eh! But during the discussion I realised that this feeling I had about knowing what happiness is. About knowing what I want from life. What life wants from me etc. It's a sham. I don't know anything. It took us around fifteen minutes to decide upon what happiness is. Our conclusion - it cannot be defined.
I realised happiness is not good food, lovely music, family, money, fame or anything of that sort. Issues like material and spiritual happiness (whatever both of them mean), like happiness of the mind or body, happiness as a form of obsession, as a form of appreciation. All these issues have stopped making sense now. Damn these stupid Wednesday mornings. What I was able to understand though was that happiness is a moment. Or something.
Today is pruning day!! I prune my gtalk list. I throw away people I know I don't know. I have been sharpening my axe for quite sometime now.
Watched Garden State today. It's quite good. Kind of one rung above a chica flicka, but only one rung.
Antibiotics suck. They make you drowsy. They double suck when they don't make you well.

PS: Notice the reduced use of full-stops


Banana Pancakes

Looking back a couple of blogs, I realised this is turning out to be a crib thing for me. Too much I don't like this. I hate that. "Clever" sarcasm etc. Trash.
So this blog is about the stuff I have liked over the past few days.

The sound of the electric in the music room. Especially when I turn the amp up. And there was a couple of folks come to tell me it was good. Killed me. Right there.
Rediscovered my love for playing cards. He ho ho. Trying to learn a new game. Twenty Eight. Man do they treat novices like shit around here. Whatever. Fun.
Oh the joy! Attending all the classes in a given week. Wheeeee. Without getting bored or dozing off in a single one, I mean.
Watching movies. Watched 'Stranger than Fiction' yesterday. Emma Watson. Very powerful. Very talented. Very beautiful too!
Playing table tennis.
Playing with cats. Ocassional dogs and deer. Gosh. Realised how beautiful the word 'mrignayini' is. Damn. Them eyes. Large and kind and not dangerous and simple.
Coffee at dusk. With a little piece of overpriced plum cake.
Reading. Social science and Postmodernism. Muhahaha. Fuck off Gaussian Optics.
Planning for the entire week, taking into account the fact that the plan is never going to be followed. Believe me, it's quite a challenge to plan that way.
Watching Death-o-notto.
Listening to Mr. Vai and realising what his eccentric fiddling means. Really. It is not just a mad genius unleashing his fantasy. Every slide. Every bend. Every title. Thought out like an elaborate Tolstoy-ian plot. And yet. Not quite as clean as Tolstoy. Quite dark at times. Twisted. Only to emerge a masterpiece. Whew. I am biased!
Configuring Linux. It's simply lovely!! You get to choose every damn detail of your system.
O yea! And listening to Jack Johnson. Thank you Inta, for the introduction. The Horizon has been Defeated always intrigues me. And yea. I understand Flake. Other ties. Eh. Not that dumb eh.
But I'm so tired of trying.


Paper robotics

Today seemed as if it were 'National Energy Saving Day'. No shop I went to had their burners on!! I was forced to eat veggie sandwitches at extra ordinary prices. Of course. The matter is. I had to eat something.
I love linux. It's quite customisable. But yea. If you don't have good internet speed. It's a dud. Just the sheer speed with which linux repositories have grown over the years stuns me. If the linux revolution does fully set in (yea yea. I don't think it's even close to that now), especially in the home PC market, internet would increase in value. Manyfolds. Somehow, that doesn't quite appeal to me. Internet is kind of stupid. You get to know stuff you don't need to. It's a different matter that you want to know stuff that you don't need. But who doesn't give in to temptation eh. Yeah. I connect to people I would have no chance of meeting otherwise. But is this contact neccessary anyway? Old mates who've never talked to me suddenly get chatty. Old mates who've talked to me all my life suddenly start stalling. I know people I don't know. I don't know people I have always thought I knew. It is all a waste of life. It is all a gain which we don't have means to measure. Whatever. At this particular instant. I feel it is bullshit.
Paul Simon rocks. Graceland rocks.
I think I am happy. Jinkies.


Meme sapiens

I feel kind of edgy. I don't know what edgy exactly means, but I am pretty sure I feel edgy. It's like I can't do anything. I feel like doing everything at once. Read a book. Learn some leads I have been wanting to play for like a hundred years. Look around the Linux world. Do some BTP work. Sleep. Plan stuff. Go buy myself chappals. Call people I havn't talked to in ages.
Hm. I guess this is what time management is all about eh. And I guess I suck at it. Just can't get inspiration enough. I also guess that I make lame clich├ęd excuses. Whatever.
I just discovered a different species today. Well, at least became aware of their existence. It's the meme sapiens, or memes. Now a meme is not neccessarily a bad chap. It's just that he is obsessed by an activity called memeing. He can't think of nothing else. Never cry in front of a meme. He will never lend you a shoulder. Instead, he will start crying with you. In more general terms, never talk to a meme about issues which do not directly involve him. Otherwise he will follow a very convoluted zigzag of reasoning and finally relate everything to himself. Even the question of cosmic dark matter. Yeaps.
Now don't you go out there labelling memes and putting them in jars. There's a meme in everyone of us. No preaching. I swear! You. ME ME. Everyone. It is just that some people give in to him more than they should, till he takes over their lives and consumes their very brains and they become one with him. Memeing their lives away.
I think some of the dearest people I know are memes. Even that a!@#ole in the bathroom mirror. He just can't shut up. Seriously, memes get very irritating sometimes. Then I want to take them to the beach and sit them in front of that biggest meme there is on earth. Listen to that you bastards. That is how it feels. Only you don't look so fine.


Morning and linuxing

Early morning. Sunrise.
No sleep. Just talking and listening. Started with Linux. Ended on E minor and A major. At 5, a stroll through the streets. Lovely weather. Cold. Hands in pocket. Then roadside coffee. Do gilas. One with and one without sugar. Decision, every cup from that shop henceforth shall be unsugared. Definitely tastes better. Came back. Found my first audience. Whooo! Hi!! *Waves*
Hm. Simple plans for the day. Try to dish out something for SB to chew. Install some form of linux that runs on my stupid SiS chip. Sleep early. Two days to make up for. Yeaps. Thats that.
O yea, unimportant update. I got rid of my job worries. I think.


Walk me through this one. Don't let me be alone ...

I was wondering the other day. There's so many folks. So many faces. I think I love faces. I just look around and I see a hundred different faces. And I love them all.
I want to know what they've had for lunch. What is the biggest thing going on in their lives right now. And I don't want them to see me. If I could only become invisible. Then I could see them all I like. And make no notes. I'd watch and forget. And watch again.
I hate strife. I swear I do. I let people jump me in the line. I let people beat me to the booth. I let people take my coffee from the counter. I let I am an idiot for that. I know. But I can't help it. I think this attitude is ruining my career. I can't help it. I know they wouldn't like it if someone did to them what they do to me. Or maybe they would. Sometimes I do try to protest. But it's more to see what they have to say than anything else. I hear people laughing. And I accept. And I let them.
I think a lot. I want to work. I want to work in the field. I swear. I have stamina. I can lift them stones to wherever the builder is taking them. I can chop wood. And till them fields. I want to. But with dignity. With seclusion. And I know I can't. Unless I beat them at their own game first. And I know I can't.
Sometimes I wish there was someone who'd sympathise. I yearn. I see people yearning. And yet, I know we yearn for different things. I see them find their desire. I see them betrayed. Again and again. I see them betraying. And I know we yearn for the same thing. I have good ears, if you want to talk. Ever.