The talk of the country right now is our defeat in the hands of England and Australia in cricket, So much patriotism, so much frustration, The defeat indeed is seen as a blow to the Indian pride, Well, I dont think I can speak against the collective mindset of a Billion strong Indian population but I still can write something in my unnoticed blog and hope no one reads it and if someone read, I then will hope they will overlook an individual’s arrogance as pointless as anna hazare’s fasting by weighing it against the stereotyped society.
It doesn’t frustrate us that Pakistan has a big chunk of our country occupied, that the Lankans shoot our fishermen like they do away with rabid dogs or the demand of Chinese that arunachal pradesh is theirs only based on the fact that their noses are similar :P, yeahh righttt, if we let them have arunachal pradesh they’ll then ask for patent on all the hutch dogs, claiming their origin should be in china considering their height, after all hutch dogs are the second best thing Indians like, falling behind only by a thread against the Zoo zoo dolls
But we are busy, pelting stones on cricket players’ homes, Curse them over our dinner tables for losing matches and at other times when they dont lose much, we read the statistics and claim we are the best team in test, 20-20, best team in reaching the stadium first, fair play award for not stealing lolly pop from a stranded child and do further more research for awards. At this point I get a doubt,” what is the difference between us and the MGR university that gave doctorate to our “Ilaya thalapathi” Vijay”, NONE is the answer and that seals our fate, we have no future whatsoever.
After Anna Hazare, and the cricket catastrophes and the Government’s indifference to both, came the movie “Nanban”; another week of stupid Facebook status msgs from Vijay fans I will have to put up with, can’t really complain on that, at least it serves for the purpose of Facebook; I tell to myself, “this too shall pass”
”Miseries that come my way are blown away but only by something even worse”
All we need to forget what’s going on right now is another storm in Orissa or an actress’ marriage, an Honest Indian would say he’d rather prefer the former :P. We can’t really blame them can we? As “V” puts it effectively, “If you want to know who is guilty, you need only to look in to a mirror”
P.S: I am no different than any other below average Indian mind, which I am. I start writing something and wander around to something else, But that cannot be helped, I write rarely and I ought to cover everything, bear with me.
Sunday, January 29, 2012
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Wind chime gardens.......
Memories haunt and we dodge, life goes on, when walked long enough and once we turn around and search for the faces and moments, we find none; thats when the search for the lost memories start and they take it upon themselves to be as elusive as ourselves, for they are mere signatures of our lost past.
One might argue, to look back on memories is a pointless craving of an obsessed mind that can neither let go nor can move back since the commitments of the present are too valuable to lose, and I shall not counter argue;) the best thing about memories is they are chained with one other and a lone sit on your porch or a sip of a coffee on a ruined evening could trigger the reaction and worst thing about memories, the same.
The fall of the first domino, the fall of the last but I might stick with the wind chimes, too many metaphors are too hard to handle. Walking through a garden of wind chimes is a head ache, only the melancholy it triggers goes so deep, unravels hidden desires, forgotten pleasures of childhood, one will only find it too hard to resist. As the bitterness of coffee is an addiction , memories too are of the same kind, as bitter they are, as much our heart treasures it.
I envy people who have the ability not to look at their past or remember anything related and be able to stay away from the whirlpool of memories as if its their second nature, I wish I could at the least pretend the way they are, only to protect my eroded pride but find it a herculean task and sometimes almost happy not to have mastered the art, for the 'Hi's and 'Bye's still fills my heart and even if eons have passed I could never forgive myself if I've forgotten a friend's face or the way he was.
People are prejudiced about their memories just as they are about people around, drawing lines on bad ones and good ones, in the end indifference is the key to greatness, to inner peace, you are made up of the bad ones as much as you are made of the good ones, a honest man might disclose it is only an excuse for our inability to dislodge the bad ones, memories and people alike.
All I can tell is, to your memories, be like a God; do not answer them, do not obsess with them and do not let them go,If it makes any sense are not, that I cannot comment.
P.S: My jurisdiction is limited to writing, not to make sense or to whatever everyone else do.
One might argue, to look back on memories is a pointless craving of an obsessed mind that can neither let go nor can move back since the commitments of the present are too valuable to lose, and I shall not counter argue;) the best thing about memories is they are chained with one other and a lone sit on your porch or a sip of a coffee on a ruined evening could trigger the reaction and worst thing about memories, the same.
The fall of the first domino, the fall of the last but I might stick with the wind chimes, too many metaphors are too hard to handle. Walking through a garden of wind chimes is a head ache, only the melancholy it triggers goes so deep, unravels hidden desires, forgotten pleasures of childhood, one will only find it too hard to resist. As the bitterness of coffee is an addiction , memories too are of the same kind, as bitter they are, as much our heart treasures it.
I envy people who have the ability not to look at their past or remember anything related and be able to stay away from the whirlpool of memories as if its their second nature, I wish I could at the least pretend the way they are, only to protect my eroded pride but find it a herculean task and sometimes almost happy not to have mastered the art, for the 'Hi's and 'Bye's still fills my heart and even if eons have passed I could never forgive myself if I've forgotten a friend's face or the way he was.
People are prejudiced about their memories just as they are about people around, drawing lines on bad ones and good ones, in the end indifference is the key to greatness, to inner peace, you are made up of the bad ones as much as you are made of the good ones, a honest man might disclose it is only an excuse for our inability to dislodge the bad ones, memories and people alike.
All I can tell is, to your memories, be like a God; do not answer them, do not obsess with them and do not let them go,If it makes any sense are not, that I cannot comment.
P.S: My jurisdiction is limited to writing, not to make sense or to whatever everyone else do.
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