Thursday, March 31, 2005

Chasin'

How many times have you been asked "How's life?"?
And what do you usually say?

The most common answer I've heard, especially in the UK, is 'not too bad'. And I've heard it from people who are actually having a pretty decent time of it. So is the answer cautious optimism? Are we scared of saying 'life's good!'? Do we not want to jinx it because we know how quickly it can all go down the toilet? Maybe we involve so many factors in our lives that any one of them going a bit wrong can throw our universe off keel. Maybe the answers have to do with an innate problem with honesty with others. Or maybe we aren't honest enough to ourselves about where our lives are going.

I think life can either be good or bad. In between is bad too. I use 'bad' in a very broad sense, though. The only thing that can justify life being 'bad' is going through situations beyond your control. If life's good, then it could be a happy mix of circumstance and you yourself doing something, proactively, to make life happier. Shouldn't that be one of the main aims of life anyway? You can't change the fact that you are here, now. Chasing contentment is too important to be a selfish act.

If there aren't circumstances in your life right now that make you say 'life's bad', and you find yourself answering 'life's ok', I'd say that's not too good.
Unhappy at work? - change it.
Unhappy in your relationship? - change it.
Feel like you have no friends? - change it.
Feel you are in a rut? - change it.

You can't change the fact of being here, now. It's changing the peripherals to best suit the core that makes the core function at its best. It's not an overnight process, but it's the most sensible one. There are the usual questions that are supposed to help in finding direction - where do you see yourself 5 years or 10 years 'down the line'? What are your goals and ambitions? But some of the more interesting ones I've come across are:

Make a list of things you would like to do before you die.
What would you like people to say or feel at your funeral? (Thanks, Omni, for reminding me of that one :-) )
Who are you? (Sophie's World - a friend I lent the book to about 2-3 months ago hasn't gotten beyond this line...on the third page. He said he spent 2 days thinking about it and it scared him!)
Where does your happiness lie?

It takes shitloads of guts to pursue a happiness which you may find does not lie on the expected path. Shitloads. Like my mum screams at me from time to time, in jest (mostly) - where are your priorities??!

This is not the end, it's the beginning of Happiness Theory.

:-)

.

Wednesday, March 30, 2005

The difference between a house and a home:

You live in one, the other lives in you.

**************************

The implementation of the Happiness Theory seems to be getting harder and harder these days.

**************************

Money is truly something evil - the more you have , the more of you it takes.
I felt so much richer and happier with 3000 in the bank, earned by doing chota part time stuff during college at AIR, or later with DD, or the voice overs. Somehow, having several times that hasn't made me much happier.
Maybe the happiness in money is to be found in spending it.
Go buy books, or gifts for loved ones.

**************************

I wonder if the sense of anticipation I used to feel on this day will ever return.
Or if I even want it to.
Aging is best done happy - the only way it's enjoyable is if it's slow.
Unhappiness can make you age 10 years in 2.

**************************

I want to break free.

I want to break free.
.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005

I think my problem lies in the need to know something about everything.
.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005

Give me a f***ing break.

I think a friend of mine said this once, and I was reminded of it when I read a line on Misty's blog:

Offices should have sex breaks.

I don't know if I should be cursing my luck, or thrilled to bits that mine doesn't have a sex break. Because I'd commit suicide if I was asked to shag any of this bunch. I would just die.

Non-Sensei, busted both his legs
trying to learn to fly
From a second story window
he just jumped, closed his eyes
His mama said he was crazy
He said 'Mama, I just had to try,
Don't you know that all my hormones died?
And I guess I'd rather die
than f-f-fuck these stiffs"

These days, the babes are hard to breach
These days, there aint a lot of 'em on the streets
Oh no no
These days are fast, nothing lasts
there ain't no time to waste
There ain't nobody left but us these days...


Note: If you haven't had a Bon Jovi phase at some point in your life, you must be just too young. You have missed something, and you might as well come and join me in the fuckless office.


Now, it's been proven that productivity increases significantly when there are hot chicks around in an office. I kid you not - a real, scientific study n all. So, the research people have hot chicks, the marketing people have hot chicks, the HR people have hot chicks - it's just my Office of Wondrous Achievements that doesn't. Seriously, THEN you come and whine to me about how I don't get much done...HOW can I, if there are no hot chicks around, eh? Science gave us computers - you bought those, didn't you? Science also gave us the paper on increased productivity - so bring on the hot women.

Of course, these breaks make tremendous sense for all parties involved. Both sides want it (hey, just DECIDE who has a bigger sex drive ok? You lot can't have it both ways. Either you get as horny as we do, as Cosmo would have everyone believe, or ya don't. So, just PICK, fer frig's sake). And imagine releasing all that tension and frustration, and being able to work with a clear mind and a clearer body. And talk about team building. Awesome.

And then, we could have copies of Cosmo and whatever is the men's equivalent of it on the coffee tables. Of course, work would get done, cos hey, you wouldn't want to get fired from an office where they have sex breaks, would you?? What sense would that make?

This may seem like a male-oriented idea, but it really isn't. From the women's point of view, maybe this will encourage the men to take better care of themselves because hey, let's face it - they'll get laid more that way. So for the women, like the divas said, free your mind, and the rest will follow.

Top reason to have sex breaks: Taking work home will be the best part of your day.

I vote "FOR" sex breaks.
I vote "FOR" having hotter people in offices.


(yeah, some mornings [V] are like this only. Kindly excuse pliss)
.
It's quite depressing to feel stupid.

I feel stupid, I am depressed. It follows.

I am depressed, so I must be stupid.

I am depressed because I feel stupid.

Ah, yes.

And being around stupid dumbfucking morons doesn't help in the least.

Quod Erat Demonstrandum.

.

Tuesday, March 22, 2005

Ever.

This house of five walls
Painted a dull shade of bleak
Sadness peeling, replaced by nothing
Staring out through the window pains
a self conscious world
Drowning in acid rains

An evasive middle distance
A vision impaired dream
Blurry, at best
A mind on the defence
minefield vest, astral fence
A future spurned
The Darkness hath returned.
A 30-minute phone conversation tonight with someone on the other side of the planet will determine how most of the rest of my life will go.
I thought I'd left such immensely life-altering situations way back with that damned EAMCET.
Shall I begin to freak out now?
Or now?
NOW???

*******************************

Madness becomes me.

*

Monday, March 21, 2005

Chill, Winstaan...

I once lived for a month or so with a junkie.

I could write, ummmm...maybe 3-4 posts about the whole experience, but maybe later. I was just reminded the other day of some seriously doped out conversations. In the time I spent there, I joined the other two guys only once, and that was one awesome Saturday. But it was listening to the stoned conversations which were really fun.
Excerpt:

Junkie 1: Hey...

Junkie 2: ...............................
uhhh..yeah?

J 1: I'm stoned, man.

J 2: Yeah? Faaaackin' ell....me too!

(both giggle)
(giggle giggle)
(which turns into laughter)
(laugh for 5 minutes)

J 1: (suddenly stops) Hey...

(everybody looking at him)

J 1: I forgot what I was gonna say...

(everybody)
hahahahahahahahahaha!!!!

Now, junkies are usually too lazy to do anything. Anything at all. So, any action that involved physical activity is worth mentioning to each other.

J 2: hey, I created an email id today.

J 1: yeah?

(silence for about 30 seconds)

J 2: hey, what were we talking about man...?

J 1: uhhh...I don't...hey, is there someone at the door?

This is just the paranoia setting in. There's nobody at the door. I thought I'd say something here, just to get back to the conversation.

Me: yeah, you were saying you created an email id.

J 2: huh? Oh...oh yeah...the email id.

J 1: so, what's it called?

J 2: the_abyss.

J 1: The Abyss? Whoa...that's deeeeeeep, man...

This is followed by uncontrollable laughter, all three of us rolling - me, because the abyss being deep was just too funny, and those two just because it was so much fun to keep laughing.

J 2: (stops suddenly) I'm hungry. Hey, where's the chips from yesterday...

(rummages around, finds the remaining weed)

J 2: Heyyy!

J 1: Heyyyyyyy!!! Alright!

Me: (laughing again, at the prospect of another conversation coming up)

Boom Shankar!

Wednesday, March 16, 2005

Snapshot 34

The water was soothing. I could do this forever, he thought.

He was sitting on the bank of the stream, on a grassy part which was slightly elevated from the rest of the bank. Do we have the time? he thought. He carefully weighed the pros and cons in his corporate-trained head. He imagined a Wheel of Fortune sort of thing, with all the options he had, and mentally gave the wheel a spin. He knew where he secretly wanted it to stop, because he wanted to justify it to himself.

How did it come to this? he wondered. He had always been in control, so sure he was doing all the right things for them, so they could have a happy, secure life. And it was happy and secure. He turned around and watched her at the ice cream cart which had just wheeled by a few minutes ago. He could faintly hear her haggle good naturedly with the vendor, and he felt suddenly overwhelmed as he realised she was even more beautiful now than she was all those years ago. He felt happy and proud when he thought of how hard he had worked to keep the colour in those cheeks, and the dimples which had now become sort of permanent. He liked to think that came from smiling so much. She looked happy, and that's all he'd ever wanted.

He turned back to the water. The sound of the waves gently lapping in the late evening brought a calm upon him that he realised he hadn't felt in years. He grinned, took off his gleaming black shoes and starched socks and slowly lowered his feet into the water. It was warmer than he expected and a contented sigh escaped his lips. She came back with the ice creams and quietly handed him his cone. They ate their ice creams in a very comfortable silence, he characteristically licking over the sides, and she, as usual, from the top.

She looked over at him and smiled at his awkward attempts to keep the thing from melting. She slipped her shoes off and sidled up to him and put her toes into the water and her head near his shoulder. Her naughty streak suddenly caught up with her and inspite of her age, she giggled. He looked at her with a quizzical look and raised his eyebrows. That always made her laugh and she splashed the water with her feet in glee, wetting the ends of his trousers. He gave an expression of mock alarm and splashed even harder. They kept at it till they were both wet from the waist down and doubled up with laughter. The ice creams had melted and they were left to lick what was left off their fingers.

He suddenly remembered something and looked at his watch. They had spent quite some time there, but he realised, to his pleasant surprise, he wasn't worried about anything right now. He thought he'd check on the wheel of fortune in his head, and smiled when he saw that it had stopped where he thought it might.

On the thin sliver labelled "Life".

I must make the sliver a slice, he decided.

Monday, March 14, 2005

Snippets

.
I've cut my hair.

I was suddenly reminded of my first haircut in London, the 5 pound cut at Mr.Toppers. I even remember the girl who did it. She took one look at my head and said "Tha'll cost ya more than 5 quid. Tha's not a trim, it's a whole hairstyle change!". And then she gave me the best looking cut I've ever had. And she did it in about 3 minutes. Yesterday, I remembered how happy I'd felt then, and actually wanted to go back and give her a 2 quid tip.
She'd just probably go and buy a pack of Silk Cut with it.

*****************************
I was just reading a blog I've not visited in a long time.

It's a girl I know, writing, mostly, about a guy I know and their relationships, but in verse. They are two people united in soul by an undeniable, irresistable chemistry; a relationship forged in passion but now torn apart by distance. Or so I think, from what I read.

I've been in relationships like that. They are the most rewarding, and also the most painful.

So I'm thinking, what happens if I go away now?
I cannot afford to die inside again.
Maybe the comfortable acceptance and hugely presumtuous planning is a good thing.
I'm usually the luckless wonder, but I get so fucking lucky, sometimes.

******************************
My thumb better heal properly, so I can get back to playing the darn guitar.

I just realised how lost I'd be if I wasn't able to do that. A friend of mine has been asking to listen to me play for close to 2 years now, but surprisingly it has never happened so far. She was upset when I told her on the phone about the thumb, but she almost broke down when I told her I may not be able to play for a while. You'd think if she's waited so long, she can wait a bit longer.

Then I thought, maybe she thinks I can never play again. That's why she's so upset. But that's not true. I'm sure I will be able to play soon, right?

Right??

Whoa. What if...?

Scary fuckin thought.

My thumb better heal properly, so I can get back to playing the darn guitar.

*********************************
There are few things as frustrating as being somewhat mature, and being forced to be around those who are supposed to be, and can be, but are not. And trying to cover up for them.

It's enough to make one want to scream and bash their heads in with the nearest traffic light.
Which one would have uprooted with one's bare hands.

***********************************
playtime's over.
It's time to get serious.

:-)

Friday, March 04, 2005

Welcome to my world of fairies and cobblestones.

Tuesday, March 01, 2005

For the love of the Game.

I’ve always loved sports, and been reasonably good at most sports I’ve played.

Football – been on the house team in school, the class team in junior college, the faculty team in college. In fact, one of the sporting triumphs that shines brightest in my memory is our class team winning the college football tournament in the second year of junior college. We were beaten in the first round the previous year, and nobody gave us a ghost of a chance. But it was a great match and one of the most awesome feelings I’ve ever experienced. It deserves a whole post. Anyway, I’ve always been good enough to make it to the footie team of whatever group I belonged to.

Volleyball – was always considered too short in school to be a serious volleyball player. But I knew I could play. Kept at it, played in the class team in junior college, became captain of the B.Sc. team in college, was the only player from the sciences to play for the main college team, went to the inter-college competitions, played against and whooped the ass of an old schoolmate – one of the guys who wouldn’t let me play in school. Ha! Eat that, bitch. Not so short now, eh? Now captain of the corporate office volleyball team at work.

Basketball – doesn’t come naturally to me, but I still loved the game. Played in junior college, won a medal for it, played in college – won two medals. I’m not sure, but I think I captained the B.Sc. team too, one year.

Cricket – what can I say, I’m Indian! Therefore born into cricket. Like every other normal boy, have played it forever. Played in most teams I was eligible for. Was told I had talent but never pursued it. As a result, haven’t won too many prizes for it. Am a decent bowler and a fair batsman. The love of the game keeps me playing it, whether it’s gully cricket with a rubber/tennis ball or maidaan cricket with the normal, hard cricket ball. Recently made it into the company cricket team, considered quite difficult to get into.

I have played tennis and participated in a couple of tournaments, but quit a fair while ago. Not too bad either at badminton, table tennis, pool/snooker.

But every once in a while, every sportsman gets a kick in the balls, so to speak; it’s like fate telling you to chill the fuck out for a bit, and to let the body relax.

I got one yesterday.

We were practicing in the nets for the big inter-company cricket match against our biggest rivals in the corporate scene. I was bowling to the best bat in our team and had got him out twice (not many get him out in the nets). He went after the next ball and it shot straight back at me. In hindsight, if I hadn’t put my hands up, it might have broken a rib. As it happened, I now have a broken thumb. Which SUCKS, because now I cant play the damn match I was practicing for! And probably not the next few either, because it takes 3 weeks to heal! ^#%*&$$$()%^*

What’s the scariest thing in a doctor’s office? When the experienced doc, who’s supposed to have seen hundreds, if not thousands, of patients, looks at your finger and goes “Oh my God!” I can tell you, he scared the crap out of me. Then I get the x-ray, he looks at it and says in a singsong voice “There is a fractuuuure! It will need surgeryyyyyy!”

What??? Sonofa…I’d prefer it if you didn’t seem quite so happy. Dammitbitch!

Anyway, I got it looked at by another doc, an orthopaedician our family trusts, who told me surgery may or may not make a huge difference. The only reason I went to the other guy was because a fellow member of the cricket team also went to him recently with a problem, and he’s a reputed doctor. But I realized he probably said surgery because he stood to make a lotta munney out of it from the corporate medical insurance people. Anyway, I’ve decided to not operate for the moment, and see what happens. But the thumb’s pretty much outta commission. And the saddest part is that I’ve been advised to not ride my bike! Damn. The injury was painful but that really hurt. Hmph.

So at the moment, no bike, no sports, no guitar (which is another big problem, with a show in 10 bloody days), and I’m wondering how I can go for the Knopfler concert. Talking of which, it looks like Bangalore now, because the big match is on the 5th and I have to at least be with the team even if I’m not playing. So Bangalore on the 7th, then. Would any of y’all like to meet up over there? ;-)

Coming soon : my other sporting injuries, including the #1 hit, The Ankle Scar.