i, robot

i feel like an "i, robot" with a small "i". I look around and people are sleeping, shopping, going home, watching movies and they look so happy and i wake up at 6, run, do all sorts of drills but none with perfection, come back and sleep only to be woken up by an announcement, do some talking, some accompanying and come back only to get ready to run some more, shoot some more and a few more drills but none with perfection. i dont know why i sit on the sidelines and cheer. i hate myself for that. go to the mess eat and laugh and pretend that i dont have to go back write my sop, work on my ddp and wake up at 6 the next morning. if only time could freeze and i could run away to a place where no one could reach me. more than once i have got this feeling that i am serving a term in the prison. all i want to do is be free for some time. read something nice. sleep and jog when i want to..
it's snowing outside
nancy's found a clue
she had missed it earlier
but she thought it through
there's cheese there's fire
its a white day on the alphs
heidi fell asleep
while nancy snooped in her dreams..

The golden shoe

coming soon too

My Golden Goal

pending..coming soon!

Thoughts on I-day

Technically, it’s midnight and it’s already the 16^th of August but there is something I have to pen down, though totally unprecedented, on this somewhat seemingly important occasion .

I don’t regard myself as patriotic. Though few years ago it was a part of my identity. Being patriotic was similar to being secular or being a vegetarian. The scruples I attached with all these forms of identities are at times hard to identify. Then as the world opened before my eyes, inch-by-inch, and I started living in a state of catechism, where everything was questionable, every idea not an absolute, I started searching for the roots of this deep-seated, almost congenital, sense of patriotism within me. I remember reading an article in some newspaper. It challenged the very notion of nationalism and secularism being valid at the same time. Then came along Shadow Lines, one of the most influential books for me in many years, which again challenged the notion of boundaries and their recognition and their futility and meaninglessness. It’s a beautiful book. I have read it more than once. The second time, because there was so much that seemed absurd and I found no meaning in when I read it for the first time. But then I had underestimated the author. I had underestimated his brilliance to put into words those ideas which are ineffable for most of us. “Language is inapt”, as they say, and yet, it may not be, when the mind knows what it is trying to express. The key lies in being able to delineate the pathos and then trying to figure out its contents, what it is made of up of. But even after all this reasoning and dissent I mentally experienced against my almost innate tendency to be patriotic, the feeling has cropped up every now and then. Is it because deep within me I believe that I owe something to the land of my birth? I am not sure. It’s instinctual more than a reasoned out feeling. On the 15^th of August, 2007, as India supposedly celebrated it’s 60th Independence Day, I woke up late in the morning, missed the flag hoisting ceremony, experienced no sense of guilt, wondered which sweet I missed in the breakfast(we usually have sweet in breakfast on I-day), and went ahead with my usual routine. The day had no special meaning. In fact I don’t see any logical reason for the contrary. I was casually going through the newspaper when I read a synopsis of the Prime Minister’s address to the Nation. Whimsically I went online to search for the entire speech. Read it. And now, after a series of train of thoughts that followed, am sitting in front of my computer, at 1 am, on the 16^th of August, writing about an Independence Day which didn’t mean much to me till now and maybe doesn’t mean much even now.

My mistrust in politicians always leaves out a few on the top. Out of desperate optimism I sometimes hope that the few at the top who bear the onus of the future and aspirations of over a billion people on their shoulders are sincere. I secretly hope that they are concerned and are fervently trying to find solutions to the problems of this confused, diverse, seemingly growing nation. I hope that they possess the gift of foresight and the desire to improve the plight of the people. I hope that they dream of a country “Where the mind is without fear and ..”. I give them the benefit of doubt of being bogged down by vested interests of several parties, evils of a diverse society and other numerous things that plague this country. I sincerely hope that deep within their heart they feel for the condition of poorest of the poor who are born in slums with no hope in their future. And I read His speech. I let myself forget for a moment that our Prime Minister was a politician, a member of a political party, a party like every other party whose primary objective is to maintain status quo and stay in power, to achieve this by all possible means, be it reforms or sectarian instigation and violence. I believed his speech was an expression of the purest of all human desires to fight challenges, to erase boundaries and triumph over forces of nature. It was beautiful. I could have cried in this virtually created moment of beatitude. And here I am writing. If only all of what he said he meant. If only each and every individual could feel the same and be able to put it into words, words carved out from the desire to strive against injustice, violence, ignorance and inequality… It will be the most excellent example of triumph of humanity over its own evils.

Day 1

A memorable week it was. In retrospect now, everything seems so chimerical. Being in Paris in an 18^th century abbey which has been converted into a four star hotel with the best of bathroom fittings and rooms, and yet so rustic and beautiful, retaining something from the past just like a dreamland. Green meadows, a long zig-zag mud path, ducks tiptoeing across to the other side towards the lake, a red wooden boathouse. The view from my window. At night, sitting on the edge of my window, I can see the castle in front, a vast expanse of greenery on my left, lighted by the moonlight and the light from the abbey, the moon in the lake which looks absolutely delectable, so near as I zoom in with my camera and try to capture and preserve this surreal image forever, and yet, so far, and so cold. This is the first night in Paris. I am very tired. Its 11 in the night. We had a long day. The flight landed at about 810 in the morning, we spent an hr in the airport since we got off at the wrong terminal. I nevertheless clicked a few snaps, as much as my battery allowed me to. The airport was huge and I saw people all around dressed so fashionably, looking gorgeous. Unmistakably, I was in the fashion capital. We somehow managed to find our luggage and were greeted by the organizers. From there we drove to the hotel and from there we were taken for a guided tour of Paris. All I needed at that time was a cup of hot tea and nice bed to crash on and yet I was listening to the guide in the bus who was telling us about the city. Hold on I want to hear this but Zzzzzzzzzzz. Anyway, we stopped at the Eiffel tower for 20 minutes. Hmm..20 minutes, just the amount of time I needed to look at this monumental tower. This was followed by the first serving of the numerous pastas that were to follow in the coming week in a pretty restaurant in the heart of Paris. It was time to go to the place that was to become our home for the next whole week. Vaux de Cerney. Beautiful, unbelievably beautiful. Better than what I could have imagined my dwelling for the week to be. Room allotment, the luggage odyssey towards the abbey, a few minutes away from the clamor, the presentation preparation, working on the technical aspects, an hour of listening to presentations about 6 countries, some laughs, followed by dinner, desserts, 6 more country presentations. At night, sitting on the edge of my window I can see the abbey in front, a vast expanse of greenery on my left, lighted by the moonlight and the light from the abbey, the moon in the lake which looks absolutely delectable, so near, as I zoom in with my camera and try to capture and preserve this surreal image forever and yet, so far, and so cold. This is the first night in Paris. I am very tired. Its 11 in the night. It was a long day.

there are places i remember

So its happening. The night we were in Lt lawns before Rajhans left and we took this video, I was saying to myself that some days later this will make me cry. It didn’t happen though until today when Luv left my room and I knew that things wont ever be the same. Ofcourse we’ll meet once in a while may be talk, go out , chat, spam but still it wont be the same. This time is gone. An era has come to end. Not that I enjoyed every bit of it. I was pained at times, bored too but I would still cherish the time we all spent together and remember it. I was once reading a book in which one of the characters tries to freeze all the beautiful moments in his mind as images(it was shadow lines I guess) and I have so many such flashes frozen in my memory, so many of them, so many voices, moments, laughter, dayas, disgust, whatnot and yet I know I would still not be able to recreate the same vibrant bunch with all of that put together, not in my mind and never around me. When Narra left yesterday I saw his auto leave. I turned around and went happily inside h10 feeling nothing. I hadn’t yet realized that what I just saw was permanent He wont be staying in h8 anymore and his room wont be next to Prajjval’s and I wont ever have to go to room no. 271, H8. Life is singular. I know it doesn’t really matter, or does it? I can still have fun with narra at some place. He can still give me Baski fundae on a tisuue paper in a restaurant and say things like “When you push the ball it pushes you back. Newton’s Law.”, during a tense timeout meaning to say every word of it with utmost intention to convey to us that we weren’t handling the ball correctly. And yet I turned around after seeing him leave with an ease difficult to comprehend now. But it wasn’t the same today. When all such images just caught me unaware as I saw Luv leave. Don’t tell me we’ll meet at convo. I know we may meet again maybe even after convo.

I remember watching this episode from wonder years. The three kids live in a locality where there is an adjoining forest area with which so many of their memories are associated. The local authorities sell this area to some builders. The kids try their best to stop these people from cutting that forest off. A night before the forest is to be cut they are sitting in the forest trying to still figure out how to save it. They then realize that they wont be able to. So instead they play hide and seek that night in the forest. The episode ends with these kids playing hide and seek with Dave Matthews “In my life..” playing in the background.

There are places i remember
all my life though some have changed
some forever not for better
some have have gone
and some remain
all these places have their moments
with lovers and friends i still can recall
some are dead and some are living
in my life ive loved them all

but of all these friends and lovers
there is noone compares with you
and these memories lose there meaning
when i think of love as something new
though i know ill never lose affection
for people and things that went before
and i know ill often stop and think about them
in my life i love you more

In My Life, Dave Matthews

“I hope someday we’ll be able to call some place shack too.

I hope not.”

Amrita Mahalay’s blog

I don’t know if I have said what I wanted to. There are feelings I am just not able to express. Either there are no words to express them or I have heard so many of them so many times recently that even my feelings seem to be have been clichéd. But I know one thing for sure that I wont ever write something like this addressed to such a big group ever. It’s a relief somehow for the ‘unbearable heaviness of being’ is weighing me down and I cannot get myself to be practical atleast for now and take it as just another thing that had to happen in the course of life. It’s realization as well of what so many small things when put together can mean and how they can enrich your life with experiences you are incapable of being a part of alone.

Where?

GREen Day

The Complexity of falling: Falling in Love
Even though my objective here would be to use as many new words that I am currently byhearting for my GRE, the inspiration should not be confused with the objective. In the years gone by, especially those that I have spent in IIT it has been rather difficult for me to understand the complex phenomenon called Love, as I see it, as I cannot see it, as I hope to see it, as I hope it should be and as it shouldn’t be and as it has chosen to evolve before me. Even more intriguing for me has been the process of ‘falling in love’ as I see people going through it or maybe sometimes as I have imagined them to be. The process of not just ‘falling in Love’ but of falling itself is rather worth pondering upon. Oops! I have not yet managed to incorporate even one single word from my first word list but then it is so full of detestful abhorrence referring to abominable men with abominable taste in women and people living in abject poverty and of bright young scholars abjuring their heretical beliefs and people in Love ( oh yes! The very Love I have been so ambivalent about) abnegating their Love for the greater good and myself being in the ‘Casablanca mood’, it was almost impossible for me to abase this rather aberrant state of mine where I was willing to abdicate my precious little free time to this string of thoughts and hold in abeyance my mission perfect score. The essay may prove to be an abortive given the contradicting nature of the inspiration and objective of writing this piece. In fact I might end up abashing(and not abasing) myself if I ever try to publish this. To abbreviate this rather traverse piece, all that I would want to say is that I should not be entirely held responsible for my indulgence. The music, which I totally am in love with, by the way, my nature to constantly analyze things in a rather obtuse way, especially the novel I am currently reading, The Shadow Lines, my Gre date, which happens to be in the not-so-distant future have all abetted me in this. Lastly, I shall return very soon for this kind of aberrant mood is not an aberration for me. It is what I am and what I cannot imagine myself without. And for completeness sake, abate means to subside or moderate and ablution is what I have planning to do since days but am too lazy and as a result have been living in dirty clothes.