Medley - 4

A traveler has seen many beautiful sights and heard many melodious sounds -- but are these sights and sounds what he craves for? No -- these are easy to forget. He yearns to re-live the experience; an experience that comes from his involvement in the scene and not his mere presence. In the absence of this experience one needs an aid to remind himself of the visit - a picture or a souvenir perhaps? Should one pack in as many sights or sounds or as many experiences? Spare some pity for the one who chooses the former, working his way through the destinations as hastily as a pack of bees collecting nectar -- is his interest to visit this place or just to get away from his?

The sights I saw are now faded, The sweet music is mellowed, But the place where I held her hand, Is so fresh in my mind, There I want to visit a thousand times.

Mind is a mysterious thing at best -- what it will retain and what it will forget is hard to say. It never seems to give clues about itself, and a helpless being must guess and understand it slowly by himself.

I can look into my own eyes, By just staring at the mirror, But where shall I stare, For the reflection of my mind?

What drives one to do something? If one can answer this then he can be sure it won't continue for long. If one does it for money, it stops after he gets the money; if for fame, after he gets the fame; if for satisfaction, after he gets the satisfaction. But what if he does it just for the sake of doing it? -- then yes, it does not stop, ever.

He did it for money, and now he's dead, And all that he did, Is in ruins.

A.R.K.

Wanted: A life free from compromises

From the days of lone wandering men, who would only be subdued by raw strength, human beings have moved on to families and later to societies -- only to find themselves yielding in addition to emotions and societal forces. The ones who have fit themselves well into the familial and societal frameworks find no burden, but the ones who are yet to be molded, who still consider themselves free, and who laugh at "what's not good for a beehive isn't good for the bee either," and to whom individuality has a greater importance than society -- feel an increasing burden of emotional and societal restrictions. Who is ahead of whom, and who's in the wrong path, it is difficult to say. While on one hand the societal assurance, and the familial support is all but necessary, the compromises one has to make to keep them up is painful. Perhaps the need is for balance, but how and how much?

Art - 1 (abridged)

Art is a form of expression: of the thoughts and feelings of an artist. It is a medium by which an artist communicates with his audience; and to the audience art is what liberates him: causes him to lose himself in the same bliss as the artist. Art ties their thought-streams together. A primary ingredient of any artwork is an intricate and congruent thought structure. A good thought framework expressed as art clarifies the many questions that rise in the mind of the audience, and manifests itself in the artwork as: clarity, details, highlights, expressions, and so on. A thorough thought process is born out of a desire to express an idea. Hence, a clear intent is very essential: it is important for the artist to have a need and reason to produce the artwork. His intent, willingly or unwillingly, is manifested in his artwork. If his intent is shallow, the artwork turns out to be shallow, if deep, the artwork turns out to be a masterpiece. In my recent visit to Chitra Kala Parishad I found an increasing number of "modern artworks," a trend that greatly disturbed me. These modern artworks made no sense without their caption, burdened me to think for the artist to fill the gaping voids in the artwork, and were with no discernible intent. Art, a "form of expression" was stunted to the physical expression on canvas -- not beyond; it did not pierce the canvas into the heart of the audience. These artworks made me sad.

Things I Like - 1

At 10A.M:

1. A Friday, and,
2. Full tank petrol in car, and,
3. Full battery charge on cellphone, and,
4. Half a glass of Espresso, and,
5. Half a glass of Orange Juice.

At 10P.M:

1. Dark room, curtains drawn, lights put off, and,
2. Pearl Jam's /Black/ playing in the background, and,
3. Lying lazily on the bed, and,
4. Late night SMS-chat.

Pretty faces and Thoughts

Surreal personalities in showbiz and how they affect our lives and decisions. The Media and Showbiz, for some, are escape-routes out of the real world, but for the vast majority of us on whom these are thrust upon on our day to day life, these are sub-conscious programmers of our memory and behaviour. Media and Showbiz glorify that which allures the senses - be it reality or virtual. And those who have grown up with such constant exposure carry a surreal notion of the world. The beauty, intellect and manners of reality don't appeal them anymore -- they would like to cling and clamour their showbiz and media ideals. While most would disregard this effect saying 'They know what's real and what's not,' they don't realise the harm that's done to them sub-consciously. Prejudice and stereotyping of people and judgement in comparison with their showbiz and media ideals in looks, intellect, manner and form are getting widespread. As a result people are frustrated with reality as it doesn't match up to their expectations -- children turn hostile towards their parents when they see smart and flawless parents and happy families in commercials, flawless skin and skin colour have become determinants of a person's beauty, people foster wrong ideas about relationships, youth curse their fate when they're unable to afford "cool" gadgets and vehicles.

Thoughts - do they define us or are they mere attributes? Ever since I could think, I've been surviving on the notion that "I'm what I think." This seems quite straightforward as thoughts stand out to be the primary differentiating factor among people. However, of late, it appears to me that thoughts are merely the attributes of a person, alongside emotions, manners and instinctive actions.

Enlightenment: Stained Tee Shirt

Attribute it to my unsteady hand or my equally unsteady brain -- I've an above-average rate of spilling drinks on my tee shirt. Usually these are drinks that leave behind a stain that won't go away in a single wash cycle. Sometimes, nonchalantly, I wear such tee shirts to Office and the questions about the visible stain on my tee shirt are usually answered thus: "I'm partly to blame as I spilt the drink, and the Washing Machine is partly to blame because it didn't wash well." UNTIL I saw this TV commercial for Surf Matic (our washing powder) which says 'Why blame your Washing Machine when what's not working is really your washing powder' -- well, the commercial asks us to switch to Surf Matic, but we already use it. So, today's questions about the stain were answered thus: "I'm partly to blame as I spilt the drink, and the Washing Powder is partly to blame because it didn't wash well."

Medley - 3

Quotes Mere statement does not imply approval or disapproval of his theories - about those I'm mostly undecided - but definitely the approval of what is stated below.

• What does not destroy me, makes me stronger.
• One often contradicts an opinion when what is uncongenial is really the tone in which it was conveyed.

Pruning Season? It would defy one's logic why the world attributes a shade of negativity to pruning when it's about people relationships and considers it a fruitful exercise when it's about gardening. From what I believe, pruning does as much good to relationships as it does to plants.

Value Drift - 2

This certain someone, whom nobody but I can know the best in this world, marvels at his ability to "take calculated-risks" and "lead a planned life." Will someone be so kind enough to tell him that life is not about coming out clean and winning every game, but about enjoying every moment of it. Love, why are you bogged down by ideas of Religion, Society and the like, and why have ideas of complacency hit you at such an early age ? Seems like what's happening to you is the one thing you ever dreaded - societal conditioning. It is now, more than ever, that you need more of yourself.

Judgement and Parody of Techno-predictions

Life as an example to others Whilst returning home from an inconsequential place, I chanced upon Magan -- it is rarely that I find myself face to face with Magan of late. A dialogue was inevitable: A: I wonder if I will ever understand the meaning of life. M: Will triviality do as a reason ? Atleast your life can be useful to an observer. A: I hate to believe that 'guinea pig' can even be considered. Who will judge you M: Perhaps. You'll have to satisfy the ultimate judgement. A: If I've understood something from life thus far, it is that there's only one person capable of making the ultimate judgement and that is oneself. Future of technology I've deciphered the future of human beings, the era that's going to succeed and supercede the era of technology. I've seen the future ladies and gentlemen, hear and be enlightened. The next age is the age of Magic and Socery; and no, it's not the latest flick that's introduced this thought in me, but deep meditation, crystal gazing and statistical analysis. Wizadry and Magic will make useless all the technological innovations - who needs a petrol car when a broomstick can do ? - Will make useless physics - need an atom, poof, here it is - and will provide entertainment and a new culture. Wait for the dawn of the next era, and behold it's king, I.

A Family's Train Journey

On a busy railway platform, Platform Number 2, this typical family is waiting for a train. Going by their looks, they're lower middle class - perhaps waiting for their second class seats. The mother, who's aged about 50 - looking clueless, a young daughter - about 15 years who's all excited and a son of about 22 years, on whom their travel rests. The son looking attentively in the direction from whence the train will approach -- perhaps to fight for three seats in an unreserved compartment. The son is carrying their baggage - a small blue plastic handbag, a gym bag, and a purse. He's holding on to them with so much conviction that gives one an idea that it's all they have. The daughter is getting restless and the mother is getting worried. The son moves a bit towards the edge of the platform to catch a glimpse of the train before others, but the tracks are dry so far as the eyes can see. There's a booming announcement on the speakers that says the train will be late by 1/2 hour. There's a sudden rush on the platform, everybody who was standing close to the edge now runs to find a seat for themselves. In a few minutes, the platform is all settled, but this family does not manage to find seats. The son decides that they'll sit on the floor. He lays down the three articles on the floor and squats - slightly leaning on the gym bag and gently closing his eyes - perhaps to compensate for the morning's hard work. The mother and sister squat besides him. He's suddenly woken by the jolt of the moving platform beneath him. It takes a while, perhaps a dreaded minute, before he realises what's going on. It's perhaps this minute of reckoning that costs him dearly. He's squatting not on the platform but in a train, his bags - which are tightly clinched by his rustic hands - are placed on the seat that's close to him. His mother and sister are not to be seen around. And the train is moving, leaving the platform, picking speed as it does. He's clueless how he ended up over there. All of a sudden he's taken by fear about his family's whereabouts. He looks around but finds only strangers. He tightens the grasp on his belongings and heads to the nearest exit door. In desperation he gets down on the coach stairs, but by now the train has picked up speed and is too fast to get down. It has left the platform behind by about a kilometre. He stands there, stiff, with the overgrown bushes brushing past him, a few that are not so kind, piercing him with their thorns or hard twigs. He looks around to gather his bearings, but just notices strange and plush countryside. He notices a fork in the railway line a while ahead, with an old man waving at the train standing in the middle of one of the tracks. For a moment he's concerned for the old man, for if the train goes his way, there'll be no time for the old man to get out of the tracks. The train, perhaps as intended, takes the other leg and moves on. He waves back to the old man. Just then, a thought tickles him, that if he hadn't wasted a minute in discerning the situation, he would have just been able to get out of the train before it gained speed. His worry for his sister and mother now has no bounds. He thinks about how he'll get back. He'll perhaps jump out and run back, or he'll perhaps get down in the next station and take a train backwards. Will a train be going back at this time ? Will it reach within 1/2 hour ? Perhaps he'll take an auto back. What would his sister and mother have done ? Would they have got into their train ? Would they be stalked by a stranger ? P.S: In a real life situation thus, there's an emergency brake located in every compartment. It is usually captioned 'To stop the train pull the chain' which you can use to halt the train.