But its okay to be such!

Time like now has been quite often since a year. This year took me on an unexpected roller coaster ride which I think I managed very well in spite being unprepared. Its just 2 days away to enter the 13th year of the millennium. This year is all set to drain away into history. I term 2012 as 'the year of destruction & resurrection.'

They now say I am a changed man. They say now that I have become more calculative, less dreamy, more commercial & much foresight-ish. All these things visited my thoughts as well; way before they did others'.

The biggest realization that occurred to me is that Its totally okay to be flawed. Yes, I do stuff which is kind of  not parliamentary & which conflicts the sense of social being. In some ways, I am a retro, pretty old fashioned & sometimes way behind the wire. But I realized that its okay to be that way.

The 'unsettled urge to write' lagged in the race competing against 'being a routine employee'. Stone face replaced genuine portrayal of emotions. This does some time feel like I am living the alter - Deekshith's life but Its okay for a while.

Its okay to confess the errors; after all - 'to err is human'. Its totally okay to let go people who intend to & to welcome who wish to come in. You stay there all the while; they come in; few stay; few leave.

Fights are those priceless lessons taught at the cost of anger, distress, disappointment and self agitated agony. Every time a miscalculation happens, there's a new formula learnt which would be applied always thereafter to stay more precise; hence minimizing the possibilities to err in the similar way, next time.

This piece may sound purely preaching & philosophical sorts but that is what 2012 has done to me. This is just one of those late friday afternoons when you just hurl yourself back to desk, grab the scribbling pad & start writing. Not because you're suddenly inspired but because of that compelling force inside you that probes you to look back at the year that has been outstanding in its own ways!



Happy 2013 

The year 2012

This year, my blog has seen a lot on entries in form of posts.That implies there have been many inspirations to jot down; and that implies this year has been remarkable in its own way. Lot new friendships whilst some old ones faded away into history; this year gifted me with a job; car, a little wealth & a lot of hope for much outstanding times ahead.

Where was I exactly a year ago Just went into a 'lively' relationship, came back to India with hardly any guarantee for the future; with prickling debts & insomnia inducing insecurities. All I did was to take a ground; strong, solid and unperturbed. The best thing I displayed is the stubbornness to stay out there in the middle; determined to stay there without perishing in front of fat's intense irony. The year 2012 will stand apart as the year of true grit, filled with clenched fists & tight held teeth to grit it out.

Lots of fights & fears; misunderstandings & miseries; all have been inseparable constituents of the year 2012. A year filled with life.

I sit back while jotting this down on a lazy monday, wondering how things changed. There are very few people I owe to; who stood by filling themselves with faith in me. Its her & my brother. A lot has already been told about her in many instances & nothing more needs to be written again. My mother tells me the tales of my absence at my home and the way Dheeraj took the charge in my guard. The way he fought for me, believing in me that I am capable enough to put a check to foul mouths has been incredible & unparalleled. Brother, I owe you something! All this could have been palpably impossible without you Nitya. I strongly believe that this one sentence says it all.

Priorities have changed  but I am the same old heart-felt guy you guys ever knew. Look through me.

Happy new year, way too in advance!

6 months & counting.

It took me a 10 days short of good six months to realize that I am just another boring employee working for one of the zillion organizations that grace the globe; basking in the glory of globalization.

Priceless experiences & countless self taught lessons are the results of being an employee who's a toddler in the job market. Longevity is my newly found interest. As a fellow said, its impossible to find inspiration daily. That point in itself can eclipse to be an inspiration. The ability to keep it going no matter what happens turns out to be the biggest motivational factor.

'The biggest joy in being a captain is the ability & efficiency in making the game move forward'. ~ Rahul Dravid.

Yes, the good old friend warned I might become like this. He warned me not to be. But necessity is the mother of everything. I too hate myself being like this but there's some insane joy that fills my heart every evening when I walk out of office. That prevails till the next morning by transforming into hangover which drags me to office again. In this way, day are turning into weeks & weeks into months. Half a year passed.

Let me tell you, you get panicked for everything in the beginning. Every long, deliberate stare from your manager worries you. Every untimely call from your boss startles you and puts you out of the sleep. That's the fear induced because of inexperience & the unending crave to be in the safe zone; to set everything straight on you end. Gradually that fear & feeling tend to disappear. After all, they have to.

It's all about balance. It's all about the ability to switch on and switch off with accurate timing. Months into work & that knowledge is what I gained and left with. You arrive at a point where you totally understand that nothing isn't that serious or life threatening. An involuntary bravery arrives in your heart.  It's all about delivering what you are supposed to; within the given time frame & just move on. When the evening clock strikes 1900 hours, you must forget who pays you.



Trust me, being devilish at work dampens longevity. Only Balance can handle it.



Soon.

Respect.

Mere food, clothing and shelter ain't sufficient to live off till you die. Life involves Respect. Respect for self & from others. It quite amusing about the baits which are thrown to pull respect out of people. Respect, these days is obtained, but not acquired.

What is that which demands respect in an individual? Education? Not the degrees that occupy space on your visiting card, but the one which manifests the inner wisdom to differentiate between good and bad. Nobility? Generosity? No. Its the education you buy buy with your money. Dowry that comes seeing your pay slips & permanent residence status. The car your drive, the place you dine at, the clothes you wear & the foul mouth you use to display autocracy.

I don't deserve to stay here. Blood people eavesdrop; blame money. I thought I have been faring well. from a totally fucked up ground to something which made some sense. It ain't enough. More riches needed if more respect needed.

I tried talking to my boss @ work asking him what fulfills him. I thought he is the right person to question about money because he earned it. He smiled & smile was his answer.

May be yeah, trying to possess everything makes me appealing. Pursuit starts. Change dominates. Ideals are being pushed off the cliff. New mask acquired. New outlook ahead. Yeah, more riches promised.



Money sucks!

Those walls and Their Destruction

As everybody has set out on their own boats heading to different destinations, its high time I call this a transition phase. Pen isn't moving further but with the unbearable load on mind, I have to ooze this out to feel better.

They say old school friends bring back flakes of the old you before you get lost in memoirs. With more & more new ones adding to the list, I am not sure whether they can be called Friends. Its all part of business transactions. Money is involved in everything. This compels me to look up to that corner of the room only to revisit the good old times.

Things were way too different very recently; in fact, fantastic till the new decade commenced. everything gradually got fucked up or must I say I fucked everything up? Lessons were learnt at the cost of people, virtues and good things. Fake people crept in & flew out, leaving me much wiser & cautious inside. A couple of life changers happened for which I am gratified to destiny, hadn't they happened, I wouldn't be sitting here to jot this piece down.

Construction demands patience, perseverance and a lot of determination. The will power to stay convicted & to let go of anything which may be even priceless in order to attain something is essential. On the other hand Destruction is very much a one-step thing. The irrational craving to fuck everything up is so highly dangerous and addictive. It can just ruin everything in seconds. This is where the will for personal success plays a vital role.

Many a time did that craving invite me warmly but I preferred to stay out there in cold, trying to make everything help to the shore. This piece certainly appears vague for people but things are making total sense to me.


People slip away, but even time does. Clinging to the walls of past doesn't intrigue me any more. Trying to build new ones surely does! 

Contemplation and its counterpart

What is that which keeps people apart? What probes to dream about doppelgänger and befriend imaginary friends? Tyler Durden, according to me, is only a doppelgänger. Seldom do they come into sunlight & face the reality. Confrontation scares their asses off, so much as they tend to live the dark side.

There is, my friend, a lot of difference between solitude and loneliness. The latter one is highly dangerous and rib tearing in virtue.

A circumscribed feeling that invades a person in absence of somebody would make days tougher, indeed the nights, the toughest. There's always this somebody in front of whom you tend to pour out & if luck favours, its well and good if that somebody is a great listener.

There's a lot humans have to toil for & accordingly a lot of turmoil is promised in the process. When you walk back home, all drooped down, clinging on to the gate, ready to hit the sack; then those soothing words from somebody can actually lighten up your mood, elevate your spirits & make you call it a fair day.

Its pretty wonderful how there's a paradigm progress in human wish list's horizon. It keeps extending into unknown distance; indefinitely.

These human relations are the ones that warn you, keep you grounded, make you feel like a star whilst your feet are still on the ground. Pretty necessary, aren't they?

That some one to share the happenings, to seek opinions from, to arrive at decisions with, to implement them & to sigh along with; at dusk.

As the dusk breaks, clouds of darkness scamper & mosquitoes hover above you & you decide its time to leave, you need a helping hand to get yourself on to your feet to keep walking into the woods; only to disappear forever.



Silence and trampled sand stay behind there as reminiscences of the spent time. Skies smile welcoming a brand new guest!

Life: Cricket alike.

Now that somebody's flying down in few days (or months) & something really big is due to happen in much lesser time, fingers are crossed.

I am just trying to make it a habit to write daily. Remembering a friendly challenge that happened between my and my friend on one of those week days' mid day drinking episodes at club 8, I put down my 4th consecutive cricket book. Two more ordered & are probably on their to press my calling bell in another 2 days.

There's something remarkable about people. They way they were, the way they transform, & the way they become who they are. This metamorphosis happens in a great stadium called Life where all the acquaintances of a person will be seated to watch the action in live. That's so much Cricket alike. Its so collectively endearing & individually discrete at the same time.

In the meanwhile, there is art to entertain spectators during recesses amidst performances. The art is something that makes the whole play tolerable for people who cannot stand the pandemonium involved in live action in the stadium.

The performances happen continuously, merely the performers change. Game's always played; with periodic (sometimes not) change in teams, individuals.

Art plays a cheer girl; that person becomes the batsman & situations constitute the fielding side. Each one bowling at one time (in cricket its one bowler at a time, but its not the case with life even. Life can be ruthless at times, you see). Its all in the hands of the batsman to make the spectators clap or curse. But something's so certain. He lets the spectators have a wholesome entertainment all through the while he's out there in the middle (all his life) before he departs (to his death bed).

Life's so much like Cricket. And yeah, its a batsman's game unfortunately! 

Sizing Up

The film is finally out. I am glad it is. Could finish something which had been in the pipeline for a really long time. Now that the film's over & people are back with their own affairs, the quest to do something again began.

As a matter of time, I was trying to figure out how things changed. They did. Very drastically. From being a jobless soul to somebody who has a week planned waiting ahead. From a dreamy, careless person to somebody who think twice before saying something & thinks 10 times before actually doing something. From an easily irritated guy to a patient person. From a guy who had parents totally dubious about their son's career to the one whose parents aren't shy to disclose their son's identity among their peers. Dramatic changes, aren't they?

All can be owed to sizing up the situations and reacting accordingly. Heard furious jokes bombed on me, suspicious friendships & ruffled relationships.

Where does this all take me to? Probably to a shore of being an informed person with tonnes of solitude, silence and faint smiles around my neck? May be.

I hardly have any peers now. Hardly. There were times when she complained about me not devoting sufficient time for her & her companionship and my friends were all blame for that. Now she's the one who asks me to make new friendships & cherish the old ones. This too changed, didn't it?

I hardly get angry now. Probably silence taught me this. Confronting something dreadful with the corners of lips almost touching my ears has become a usual thing.

To the memory of good old times & hope for better coming times, this piece stands as a silent witness ending with a strong full stop.

This and That.

How magically we fall into the nets of people, though how convincing we might sound to ourselves that being rational and unperturbed works at all times!

The enormous power and patience needed to keep the urge to blast off down to ashes is something fascinating to notice from a distance but it ain't easy to adapt and implement. Times have grown gloomy, dull and bleak. A pathetic situation of looking forward to meet someone for days together is here. Every one conveniently walks past me, ignoring my presence so elegantly that I often feel dubious about the presence of my very own presence. They do that in style, leaving me behind fragile.

Not one month passes by in ease. Every month peeps in with a whole new set of ordeals in its bag. They are thrown at me, to play with me, to leave me exhausted & retire to bed on each day of the month mulling over the never ending testing times.

Sirish is a great listener, I must admit. He lends his ears in such a comely manner which compels you to drain out all the built-in agony which gets piled up in stacks for days.

There is this mad man, sitting relaxed, some 5 hours away from where I am right now. May be he isn't mad. He may be just any second 50 year old in the country with a couple of daughters off his nuptial life. With irritating levels of orthodoxness and alarming heights of stubbornness and stupidity. He might stand as an obstacle between me and my purpose. The confrontation day isn't that far. No wonder he'll soon creep into my dream and converts them into bloody nightmares.

All these constitute my future. All I have in my hands is to live through it; as calmly as possible. My anger has always been a disaster!

The festival is here!

10 days of tumult and pandemonium is here. Ganesh Chaturthi. Celebrated gloriously at a cost of environment. Bored because of an off day amidst week days, I was truly jobless & spent all day stuck to bed.

With continuous prompting of my mom, I went out in the evening to breath in some fresh air as well as some smoke. The city is now well decorated, flashing with glittering lights and plaster finished idols, standing majestically as the epitomes of Hinduism & its popularity in the country.

I was wondering how much would it cost to erect thousands of such idols, so much of gala for 10 whole days and finally immerse the 10 days of celebrated investment in waters. I even wondered how many reforms or ideas can be efficiently implemented with that amount. A lot of 'em right? How many home(pe)less can be fed with clothing, food and shelter?

Not any of these thoughts come into our minds as we keep ourselves super busy & engaged decorating the idols with countless, grand garlands in the name of devotion.

A sweet offering to God is usually auctioned at the end of the gala & it gets sold off for whooping prices, say INR 300,000, if not 600,000. Where does this archaic behaviour take us? To a pretentious state of satisfaction? To a fake shore of accomplishment?

If He exists, He must exist in hearts, thoughts and actions. Not necessarily in idols & celebrations.


Serving mankind is serving God.

Open

It's been quite a while I posted anything but about me. The site has been showing only my updates from 3 months or so but not about any faintest take on worldly affairs. The reason was I haven't been active enough. Being occupied with bundles of work at office, learning to drench down in the internal affairs of corporate; all these took me about 4 months of time.

Well, it's about time & I finally grabbed myself a book to look into. usually, I stay away from autobiographies, as they leave us uncertain about the authenticity of the point documented in them. But this one some how got me intrigued. Thanks to the foreword.

Open - by Andre Agassi.

The honest portrayal of his flaws, weaknesses & their admissions right at the beginning of the book opened a door for the most honest work I've ever come across. The way Agassi poured his heart out, blue coloured, onto 380 odd pieces of paper was hot flame burning sort of.

I always hailed Agassi as a flamboyant, easy riding tennis man the sport has ever witnessed. But there's something raw, bruised and scarred fist size being behind that stylish Nike tee he sports. 29 years of untiring hatred towards the sport he dominated. The helplessness of not knowing anything other than tennis. That helplessness, transformed into rage which had beaten Becker sort of legends. There's some ultimate empty feeling after winning everything possible in the sport, conquering every title & mounting the top, he says. True, it seemed.

14 trials all through his reign; when the costliest rackets were just given away; trophies on the racks were shattered into pieces, tiniest pieces; that bachelor pad where everything is pitch black in colour including the toilet pot in the wash room, resembling his dark phase. 14 trials to just let the sport go off his veins. 14 trials to give up abruptly and vanish like a genie. Yet, that one last title in 2006 again Bagdhatis. That one last serve of his life, serving for the championship & that's when the finish line calls him; yells at him to just drop the racket & to get onto his knees and shout that he can't do that any more. Ultimate perseverance; Super human endurance out there in the match box sized court.

Never a single second did Agassi let me loose off his clutches all through the book. I was drenched down in those furious sprinkles of honesty; just like he does under hot water for 22 minutes before that last match of his.

Yes. He raced fast cars, dated much faster models.; exploited by media, humiliated all through his life in the hands of his father. Turned into a style icon. Went bald. All these were ephemeral. These just constituted an ethereal world, which people built around him upon the pillars called anticipations.

But deep inside, a man lies, furious, honest, poke-me-you-get-that-back-in-your-face.

Any body has to let their hands down, when it's Agassi whom they are facing.

Those thought filled days.

Days of introspection are finally here. I guess I am using them to the fullest. Revisiting very virtue and quality of mine, trying to make necessary changes, so that I emerge out as a sensible being; far better than the one I have been.

Knowing about some intellectual brains, reading some really good stuff, trying to use the granted time to the benefit of the self. I hope she blossoms with a smile at the end of the trial that I really evolved in the way I expected to be.

That's what this is being all about. Really utilizing the time to figure out who the real one are; and who the fake. I am glad that already an outline has formed and it is being filled by discrete parts to make life gain a fuller picture & develop into a meaningful collage. I wonder how I allowed myself that to happen, but eventually I now understand that it happened for good.

She said she is being relaxed or rather composed. Neither sad nor happy; but relaxed. Really felt good. What more could be of good thing to really let some one be relaxed? Priceless, you see.

Even I am out of that self imposed misery & seems like I am really putting in efforts to make it a meaningful day to call off at work. Life seems pretty sensible now.

I just can't wait to talk about those little personal things again with her. She has been the everlasting contentment of my life. I silently wink and smile reckoning even she knows that.

Its just like working on a small contribution to a robust project. You realize what you've been working on only when the project's out on screens to public. But that some how makes it intriguing.

To me, this is like that long wait, clear in the eyes of a soldier who waits for the war to be finished to go back home & fall in the arms of his loved one. But yeah, War certainly teaches him many things.

This is teaching me! 

Death : The Mighty.

This apparently is the first time I am going to talk about death. This surfaced from the grief of losing a good old friend to the Aussie soil & it got extended into a philosophical channel in a span of overnight. Nostalgia was at peaks when I was walking down the lane close to my work place to fetch cigarettes for myself. The same lane, where till yesterday, we shared chai-companionship; smoke-silliness.

This is just temporary or perhaps I'd like to believe it that way. It'd be too coarse to digest if it turns out to be intimidatingly permanent. 

My thoughts zeroed down to Death on parallel with the cigarette I was killing. He is just a good friends, he just migrated to another country in the name of good, which itself is proving out to be unbearable for me. Everything seems conspired against me these days. Letting Go two most important people of my life in one day. What do you say? Wouldn't that be too harsh on you? Inevitably, I have only one choice; To Live Through It. So, I am living through it.

So coming back to death, How Death is mighty? I'd rather adopt a simplistic view here. Death is the most obnoxiously scary thing as well as the ultimate freedom on the other hand. Its just the way we look at it; I tend to go with the latter.

We, the humans are bestowed with the burden of living through, until it occurs to us to carry us along with it to the unseen worlds. I totally eradicate the prospect of fading away in between. Either to stay back silently among the ashes or to rise like a phoenix; the only two choices.

I've made up a theory yielding a benefit from death. Every other reluctance, apprehension, inertia fade way palpably in front of the mighty death. We prepare ourselves for the death, all the aforementioned appear miraculously stupid & tiny. That, obviously leads to the most important leap- Initiative.

So be prepared to experience the ultimate freedom - You'll live through in Style. 

Rage!

"Perfection is a myth.Its an unconquerable fort. It does not exist. Its an illegible utter from a swaggering person's foul mouth. Words like 'perfection', 'best' never existed. We just coined them to enhance our standards. To outdo ourselves to deliver better outputs. To excel selves & our peers."

(The above phrases are for my brother from the same mother. rest of you skip to the below lines)

A lot of shit has been thrown around from shotguns with their triggers being my close people who literally matter to me. Alcohol sessions started hitting back on me in an outrageous manner. This post had been the victim of my procrastination and finally, it had to come out. So here it is.

There is this shit which is recurrent in my life. It just squeezes my intestines inhumanly whenever it attacks me when it is least expected & I am least prepared to confront it. It totally compels me to do all insane stuff & spell out all crazy words that go on to ruin the next few days of my life. The most amusing thing about this one is I was never directly responsible nor involved in its occurrence. This really has been testing my patience and perseverance levels for a year so far. I wonder whether the directly involved would ever feel a pinch of badness about me being affected unnecessarily, again & again.

Life's going pretty slow, besides being ridiculously gloomy. The prospect of looking forward for tomorrow has vanished a long back. The same Moon Star with those royal tea cups, same old school friends with whom I could actually make an attempt to strike a yap session.

This continuum of tangible frames attached to each other rolling aimlessly till now require a real throttle to jolt back & forth, so that it picks up some pace, leaving behind the intricacies which bother the most.

Been in a super pissed off mood since morning & felt this had to come out. Been through more pissing contest of proving 'who's-more-pissed-off', the last night. That just sucked.

Aye! But somehow it feels sensible at the end of the day to keep to self feeling bad about things that really matter (in turn putting in some deliberate effort to bring in some change at the end) rather than getting drunk jobless-ly, finding a cat on the road, getting it drunk with milk & eventually letting it shit on your own pants.

Soon! 

To all of them, who complete us!

There is this buzz of 'finding-someone-for-selves' going on around me lately. People are getting ready to fall in love. At least, they started being welcoming. I've witnessed a virtual love pair finally joining their hands after 6 whole months of separation, a communist identifying the need to have a partner & a liberal desperately waiting to fly off to embrace the love of his life.

When being in centre of these happenings, a question surfaces. Why is it important to have someone with whom you want to be as transparent as naked? Is that a result of chemical reactions in our brains? Is that the inevitable flow of nature? Or is it the culmination of both? I choose the last one though.

One day or the other, you realize their need. Surely. Those deliberate efforts to find the love of your life. I found mine, a year ago. It defies your dedicated trials you threw to achieve anything, so far. It makes every other thing look tiny and minuscule. It grows out to be magnanimous.

Even a 'apparently-super pissed- with- his-love' bastard would actually miss her & cry when he's drunk (at least). She's not in town. I tried to make fun saying I am granted holidays but I feel her absence massively.

I can understand how hard is it for Sandy. They suddenly occupy the prime priority in our lives. That's so surprising (here I am not trying to convey disgrace to parents at all).

You go to obscene lengths to see them happy. Some friend of mine takes a bus silently to travel 700 odd kilometres to spend a day with his queen, some fella tries to swallow his sadness caused by his love's absence by engaging himself with books, one occasionally identifies the need to have a partner. I write about her whenever I miss her & can't talk to her.

She made me buy bouquets of red roses which I never thought I'd be so close to being romantic & actually buy them. I never thought that giant penguin would cry with his head hung down & his tears getting mixed up with his beer.

Its wonderful how they make you do 'crazy-to-you' things & still not regret  a pinch about them, instead drop her back home, stop for a cigarette on the way back home, light the cigarette, smile over the portrayed stupidity & yet resolve to repeat them more often to seen them giggle.


To Love, hats go off.

The Communication Catastrophe

There is a buzz. All over. Unseen carrier waves exchanging information among innumerable radars. A giant spider web with uncountable strings measured in Kilobytes, Megabytes & so on. Ever felt detached in a while? I am sure you did not. You're stuck in the web. The most complicated web. Its all about staying connected, isn't it? Posting about when you had your shower today, what amount of extra cheese in your burger you had for your lunch is worrying you & stuff.

This idea struck me when I dashed out of my desk for a smoke break, leaving behind my cell phone. Sucking in a couple of puffs, I realized I don't have my cell phone with me. Felt so discrete & honestly freed. That one sprint can actually take me away from the network I've developed over the years. I was one step away from 'to be gone forever'. Never felt so close to freedom ever since I started understanding things. Just one step away. It was like something incredible, never-experienced entity was calling. May be that was life calling.

One of the disastrous consequences, left out as a bye product in the process of advancement of technology. Too much prominence bestowed on staying connected. I don't understand the fuss around it. Its increasingly sad that now I can't proceed into a day's work without checking my mail box. As Divyakka said sometime ago, "There's thing funny thing now that people actually 'meet' to discuss emails." Thats pathetically funny.

This is the generation of smart phones, more smarter apps in them & the smartest OS platforms. A key note conference almost everyday to launch a new development that actually enhances the ease of communicating. Apple outdo Android & Android hits back with conspiracy. People already feel lost without a smart phone with messenger apps on it in their pockets. Sheer pitiable.

What is that? Google buys Meebo for $100 million. Awesome. And also it deploys a R&D wing to further improvise its services, only to rob people's golden silent space. Where is that much needed time for one's own self? You are half asleep & it beeps saying "ReadingBob just mentioned you in a comment" and where's sleep for the rest of that night?

Gone are the days, a child holding a slate & writing with a chalk on it, instead he draws a picture on his iPad, uploads it on Instagram to get more likes and comments.



God save the World.

The Power of Fear

is almost unparalleled. I roger the statement that fear is one of the few genuine emotions we portray. Fear is mighty. It can bend the ass of the most laziest person to do the most laborious task in no panic. I always wanted to put down a few words about this, but there hasn't been a butt-kicking incident to trigger me to jot down. It arrived this morning. Like many a times did I, this time too, I owe the credit to her.

There exist many of them. Fear cos of a stalker. Fear of tomorrow. Cos of intimidating people. What is it to be scared? To be non-concretely liable to a thing or a person? Turning out to be submissive reluctantly, clenching fists in despair and fury, both of them placed on your butt to conceal from display.

Fear. Is Priceless. Invaluable. It should not be wasted by giving in ourselves to unnecessary, undeserving bastards fearing trivial losses. There is a fear that I might not be able to fulfil my self vowed promise which demands me to write daily, some crap. That's something sensible, ain't it? Writers evolve out of the crap they write. No matter what happens, the fear of failing to keep up my promise actually accomplishes something for me at the end of the day, which is of course good.

But to hide in a foxhole scared of somebody? Absolutely ridiculous. I want her to read this piece, which she's never going to (I know). But I hope at least my effort to change a bad habit in her so that she can start living freely, fearlessly should pay off.

God bless her.

Its High Time

Firstly, I am very happy maintaining a low key, far too away from socializing and as promised to self, trying to have more time with myself. One thing emerged clear as a bye-product out of this phase. That it being, realization that its high time to evolve.


The whiskey night served its purpose. Sandy, when needed, serves as a mirror to look into myself, to acknowledge the complexes I develop with time. He comes up with easy answers to my to-be-answered riddles. Its now quite evident that I need to evolve. Change in the name of good. As I already wrote quite a times earlier, change should start when it has to; but not upon exertion. yes, exactly I feel that I am receptive to change now & more than glad to welcome it with a warm embrace. 


Primarily, its the immediate need to put a check to the sudden bouts of angst my brain spits out., which is very bad, I so want to appeal to all my people that the intentions behind the angst are usually very noble and genuine. All I am lacking is proper channelization of my inner angst.


Second stands the illogical sense of ownership. Why do I still have it in me? I talk to myself regarding this when I am composed & make a vow that ain't I going to iterate that again. But in the heat of the moment, it gets back to me. She might have been suffering the aftermath of this complex, but I somehow manage to back my argument by asking her if she feels the same. If she does not, then I convince myself that I win.


I contradict with myself on this at times with a version saying 'may be being that way constitutes me; may be that is me', but I hate them in me, which require drastic changes. For me to be happy with myself. Its not about her, but she's half of me. I can't let a half of me to be unhappy and sad & the other half obviously won't be doing good in that sense.


Yes, where was I? Its not about her, nor about anybody. Its about me. Whatever.




Eyes wide open, curiously waiting for the change from within.

Whiskey tonight.

Pre Subject : Glad I am writing daily.


Okay, I speak to an old friend of mine to whom I elaborately explain the reason behind creating an irrational occasion to drink. Well, while talking to her, it sounded funny as we both were constantly laughing at my stupid reasoning attempts. Later, as I hanged up the call & came back to my desk, something intriguing about that appealed to me.

What makes a day off from work worthy? I am surrounded by few jobless souls at home who wait for it to be evening so that they can go grab some beers. If something called conscience exists for them, they won't do that. Six days of going through oodles of work, unlimited shift swaps, crowded entourages between home and office, strained backs, stressed shoulders etc. are what that makes somebody truly deserve a holiday.

Its pretty sad that, that one day passes by in a blink. You realise its sunday & it'd be gone by then. Bouts of unhappiness, dissatisfaction. Sunday evenings are always gloomy, occupied with the fact that monotonous fact that another monstrous week is waiting ahead in store.

Similarly, I remember my untiring trials to rob my dad's wallet so that I could guzzle down beers till I find it difficult to breathe. Deep inside, there was always a fear and concern about tomorrow. Unexpected changes in lifestyle might actually alter my way of living. Now I realise in relief, that nothing like that happened.

I am gearing up for whiskey tonight. I feel deserving and happy. 9 months of its absence & its going to find me as a whole new person holding it in a crystal glass, pouring it down his throat in pride.



To more work to come (with challenges as its wingmen), here goes the toast.

Journey

Waiting for the good times & smilingly live through not-so-good ones. This is what is the entire essence. I seriously do not go in compliance with elders' saying which says like one must treat triumph and defeat in similar way. May be attaining that unperturbed state is being super human. What are you and I? Mere mortals, aren't we?

I can never take a defeat as smilingly as I take a triumph that comes my way. I can't and I don't. Why should I, firstly? Isn't it a pretty reflexive phenomenon to feel sad when lost & elated when won? I see no point in controlling the trivial reflexes. May be that helps at a super human level, but again, we are humans.

We try; with ignorance, without forecast, with no speculations, we fall, get hurt, feel bad, take time to get out of it, introspect, contemplate, make resolutions, frame policies, we try again with fair chances of winning. We might win this time, we might equally lose. But that ain't going to effect our trial process. It should not.

Bored or irritated or fed up, work does teaches you quite a lot. It makes your learn the prominence of patience, perseverance; two fundamental attributes to grit defeat out. There's this wonderful line in 'Neninthe'

సినిమా పోయింది; వెల్లిపోతామా ?సినిమా హిట్  అయింది; ఇంక  తీయడం ఆపేస్తామా ? సినిమా హిట్  అయినా కాకపోయినా ఇంకో సినిమా తీయాలి . ఎందుకంటే మనకి ఇదొక్కటే వచ్చు. 

Similarly, its all about the process. As Ashok put it this way, 'It's better to follow meaning than method.' We feel sad when we lose, hence we try. We feel happy when we win, therefore we try again.

A man who said 'Success is a journey; not a destination' was definitely not a mad man. 

Super bored.

This is what a writing job apparently does to you. You keep writing all day. Instead of getting sick, a salvation point arrives beyond which you get highly addicted to what you do. Your hands etch for typing in. Your fingers long for the touch of a pen. That is where exactly I am now.

Writing has been an inseparable part of my life for 2 years, more or less. Be it technical, managerial, personal, whatever; there were only few days when I slept without actually writing something. Thats the only worthy thing I notice when I look back.

I know I am so boring and predictable. All the time, I think about myself (rest of the time, about her), blabber about myself & end up writing about myself. Unlike other bloggers who write about their cities, their recent expeditions, ongoing social activity etc, I am far too refrained from all that.

The weekend's fever is already spreading like a wild fire. A couple of my colleagues made up sick faces & left. There's not much work to do. I folded up by shirt's hands & sit n stare. Observing the 4 walls of my room, trying to pluck out stretched edges of my fibred desk.

All I am doing is trying to get a life, as they suggested. One is already a corporate employee circling between malakpet and hi-tech city every day. One's waiting for an entry permit to Australia so that he can embrace the love of his life. People are in pursuit of getting a life. On a contrary note, 'getting a life' sounds frenzy but it ain't as fancy as it sounds.

I funnily throw away my hands in wonder looking at myself in mirror with a formal shirt neatly tucked in my trousers with a matching belt and matching shoes. As I always declare, Life's always brighter on the other side. When I was jobless, I dreamt of being this Deekshith. And when I am this now, I so want to go back to those good old jobless days which revolved around deserted cafes.

Life has become busy. She demands time. My mother does too. My dad wants me to be at home, when not at office. I satisfy one & others start complaining. Life was far good when we did not have mobile phones and mood swings.

As somebody said, 'Life was simple & good when Apple was just a fruit.'

A choice made.

Okay. A standard schedule is established now. This is what they wanted. She, my mom, my dad, whoever. A soon-to-be-appearing ID card which decorates my neck would actually let them celebrate. Not that I don't like my job, but I'd prefer it to be freelancing sort of.

I wake up, hardly be at home for an hour, rush out, hit my desk, stick to it for 9 odd hours, experiencing bouts of stress, sheer excitement, lot disappointment (yet to make peace with corporate) & droop my shoulders low, head back home only to eat and drown into a bursting sleep. So this is what for I've put in 5 whole months of my life, sucking in humiliation, resentment, obnoxious insult & days of persistence and holding-in-there quality.

Every phase should come to an end, otherwise it wouldn't be termed as 'phase' really. Indefinite days of waiting, gritting insane fear of confrontation, comfortable view filled with obscurity & the doomed darkness have finally ended. Now everything seems so secured & 'settled down' to them.

I am dead scared that it's going to be the same way till one lucky day when robust wheels of a truck run over me. They say Work is what that defines, redefines a person. I really don't understand that. Excluding personalities like Rahul Dravid, Roger Federer for whom, work isn't really work any day, but it's play.

I barely have a faint idea that agitations are lined up against UPA, condemning hike on Petrol rates; that the most controversial politician-heir of late chief minister of AP would be put behind the bars very soon and stuff. All this is gained by being all ears to strangers who sit behind me during out journey to our respective work places in public transport. No access to first hand information. I know it'd be mean if I exclaim I don't have time. Rather, I say I am unable to make time.

I smoke in a hurry. I eat as if I might miss a flight. I startle cos of my alarm in the mornings. I dread a crowded bus that I might end up missing it. I slurp tea like I gulp water. Pathetic, ain't it?

Its been only few weeks into work & I am already there, failing badly to find time for myself. She complains, yells. I prefer to stay silent. It was a collective choice. No one can be blamed. I yearn for a sunday s that I could really make out some time for myself, go sit in Moon Star & sip a cup of tea fully, in n hurry. I want to live like as if I want to, not like because I have to.

You don't go out apparently, having money, throwing a party and all doesn't happen when you work. You only work when you work.

Yes. I was there once.

No matter in how much interesting job you might land in, afternoons turn out to be boring & ridiculously gloomy. That is when I turn towards checking known people's activity to keep myself on wire, in the race. Not that being forgotten troubles me, but its just that natural curiosity I'd be struck with.

The version, a friend of mine has come up with on his blog defending his irrational desire to stay connected with his circles left me intrigued. And also probed me to throw some deep light into his version. 'Its scary to be forgotten'. No offense, but I don't really understand the fuss around it. Around staying connected. Upgrading handsets to stay 'available' round the clock. Giving in to the fear of being lost amid the clouds of anonymous souls spread densely all over the global village.

I was there once. Probably, a year ago. Feeling like lost everything if had lost a residing address in the virtual society. Its just that there will be a phase when some 'likes' from people would cheer you up, inquiries about your being would make you feel secured; wall posts make your day and stuff. Slowly, it gets worn away. It will.

I (you) start being increasingly individualistic. Alone-ness brings serenity. It incorporates peace. Gifts you with freedom. Relieves you from expectations. Nothing matches the feeling you get when you walk directionless, undetermined, undeterred by people's speculations, unpinned by their hopes. All alone. You for self. Not for the world.

I would not offend the saying 'man's a social animal' but man's the only animal which can maintain solitude is all what I'm trying to say.

And yes, that's also an individually varying aspect. I myself would feel totally okay (perhaps, better?) if I'd be forgotten. Seriously, it makes no difference. You won't be there any way to check if you still live in people's memories.

I really can't help but shrug off my shoulders if this leaves my friend with red-turned ears and nostrils due to infuriated blow-outs of exasperation in offense with this post of  mine but I really felt like opposing genuinely on this version of his. Peace out, man! Did not intend to hurt you.

God Bless.  

That's William Thacker in store for you.

Why am I being so unhappy & dissatisfied in my relationship from the past few days? I dedicated one whole day for introspection & came out with intriguing observations and interesting solutions all across to saw down my problem right from its roots.

The problem is Prominence, basically. A little too much prominence attached to the opposite person. Hon, don't get offended but let me tell you something. I need to love me first to love you more. That's what I haven't been doing for a while. I have been trying to search for everything in her. That's one surmountable task her too, to fetch me with everything I seek. Aftermath of this has been in the forms of crave for her attention, unexpected outburst of anguish on her, unknown mulling on almost everything, rejection of the self & so on. Distance played its part too. What not? Everything contributed to add fuel to my throwing flakes of melancholy.

One saturday. Brought in showers of wisdom. And I readily got drenched with longstanding thirst to be contented once again. And my bright spot has been found amidst piercing droplets of wisdom. He's William Thacker. There are several instances where I addressed Notting Hill as well as William Thacker. This character redefined something called Love for me.

What on earth takes a man to say 'alright, okay' when he comes to know that his room mate screwed his love in the most ridiculous way possible with his stupid curiosity? Its just keeping it in; low; grounded.

William Thacker loved Ana Scott. The best part with him is he did not expect the same from her. He was thoroughly conscious that he had a life to lead. Coming to know that the love of his life dismissed his identity exclaiming that she was feeling awkward because of his unexpected presence, all he does is, gets up, smiles, hands over the headphones to the cameraman over there and leaves. So simple, ain't it?

And the next day, Ana Scott appears at his shop asking him to love her, he delivers a classic yet again. He just says 'I am not ready for another heart break'. The way he turns down her proposal says it all; without really saying anything. Just love someone, don't ever expect it in return. I know it's difficult. More importantly, love thyself first. Have time for yourself. Talk to self. Nothing does more good than a well timed solitude. Over expectations can really hinder a bond. I now have an example in my hand of a very close friend of mine, who changed a lot for a guy, being unaware of what she was going through. Eventually, she realized that, for which I am glad.

Its a gift to have some one whom you love & the same who loves you back without flinching. That does not mean everybody is ill-fated. Celebrate love. Be a Thacker. remain sensible & loving. Love her as much as you can & if she leaves, smile and have a Spike for yourself. He really conjures cheap tricks to make you smile.


God bless.

That Wonderful play

        Pretty commonly observed phenomenon in 1 out of 4 people round the globe. - A recent survey. The powerful desire to change individuals. To make their own dent on as many possible people as they can. Thereby, establishing a virtual kingdom comprising self self created army. Changing people in the name of good. Yes, I again stress over the point that Change is quintessential. Its one of the primary requisites to evolve & continnue to lead the life race amidst other species. Poignant examples -  Adolf Hitler, Fidel Castro. I am not getting into details whether they did it for good or bad, as that is entirely debatable. But what I argue is 'Change should come from thy self; from within.' I do not know what probes a person to go to the extent of pooling in all his resources & change an other one.

Even though a person is permitted to change an other one, that should happen only with the consent of the latter. But by manipulating by some means or the other & establishing the authority & bringing out the change is something devilish and I would look at it as something inhuman. By emphasizing on the need to change, by creating a bad fear of extinction if reluctant to change is ridiculous.

Give people time, enviroment to introspect, think over the happenings, let them commit mistakes, let them get hurt, feel bad, regret, confess to their conscience, contemplate and let them come out with intriguing versions of themselves; That is something that could be termed as 'Change'.

But what's been usually noticed is unrelenting pressure on individuals to change. That psychotic pleasure they incur by witnessing something which is clearly wrong and being dogmatic is something that should be abolished on humanitarian grounds.

People are being subjected to change. And they eventually do change. There starts the actual ordeal. Something will be pricking all day. Some guilty feeling strikes them. Its totally okay if they adapt themselves to change with a glass of whiskey in their hands and nodding in unison. But if they don't, then start the sleepless nights. Hevay feeling in hearts. Burden on brains.

Isn't it so stupid to get involved in the people's affairs so much spending all lives to be proud pretentiously in the name of changing lives? Some writer said, 'You arrived alone; And you'll leave so.'


World is a wonderful theatre. And being a spectator is fun. Sit back, relax, watch the metamorphosis which happens which happens on itself. But do not try to direct the play. No one's a better director than Destiny.

/Untitled/

My ink tank seems to be dried up. These words are running on reserve. Its quite strange how an inner feeling can be brought out in either of the ways; one being happy & the other sad. As said by some renowned writer some time back, ' There should be a vent out for every extravagant feeling that circulates in a human brain.' Otherwise that could turn out to be toxic. Be it happiness, melancholy, & that lump in the throat caused by both of 'em. It feels so relieved to clear that lump off the throat. As so is this piece. And the emotion behing the lump in my throat is Angst; Helpless fury. And the root cause behing that is Me being unhappy with everything that comprises my habitat.

Everything. The man sitting across my table & washing the brain of an innocent guy to step into anti social business; other one beside me shouting furiously over phone cursing his own destiny to be that way he is. May be its that alternative world with every possible making-happy-element within it. Dangerously even that could be dismissed as a sad place & I may complain about that world too.

Primarily, I lack proper definition of happiness. Happiness; what could it be like? How to fulfill the conditions to be happy? Firstly, what are those conditions? All the regular followers of my blog! are you observing a recurring phenomenon in my posts, lately? I have been questioning a lot. I don't know why am I being so troubled with so much of questions.

This jobless period is doing a great favour in reinventing myself. I am sure I'd come out as a bright person fed with more clarity, wiping away the clouds of uncertainty surrounding me. A decent cafe is a lot better than home. In fact, it feels home in there. The only thing I'd get nostalgic about Hyderabad (If I leave it for good) in future is the presence of some majestic cafetariae & the tea served in there.

I am afraid that this is it for now. As I said in the beginning, and now even the Reserve tank's empty!

Cool Quotient

Its quite ironic to get dragged into the vicious cycle again and again. However hard I try to run away from all the socializing stuff, one scratchy patch of it gets glued to me & it emerges victorious in pulling me back centripetally into the circle. One more instance stands as an example for this again. During one of those jobless Scroll-downs on facebook just to know what shit's been happening around with acquaintances, it happened to come across this. Its actually something like this 'If you are cool and you know it, you probably are just shit and you don't know it.' That appeals somewhat true to me. I never understood the concept of being cool. Ignorantly, during those adolescent phases, I might have tried being cool.But one has to accept that being ignorant ain't a crime. But once I grew wise (at least I think), I fortunately stumbled on a conclusion which has been helping me over years. That is 'Cool is uncool' & more importantly, vice-versa does not hold true, as a matter of fact.

I have a bad set of cousins who succeeded in life on their self-determined parameters & now lead a 'settled' life. I remember someone from that herd questioning me, 'How's everything going? Cool?' for which I answered being smilingly courteous 'Yeah. Everything's alright.' I am totally aware that the cool quotient I have been talking about from the beginning of the post and the 'cool?' he asked me are distinctly different. But what tickles me is the word Cool. What is being Cool? What is it about being cool? How does it appeal to people? To that point, how does that appeal to one's self?

I came to know from Sandeep that Ashok was talking about people who are very happy doing all the stuff they want to, talking all the crap they like to & more prominently, they are being happy. Is that what that counts in the end?

For my parents, watching their son tucking a software organization's ID card under his belt is cool.For a typical guy, being flamboyant, going out with girls, partying can be cool. Carrying a gadget from some named-after-a-fruit company can be cool.

In the whole process of attempting to establish their identity in front of peers, the basic questioning process is being forced to take the back seat.

I have no idea about what that probed me to write about this & that is why this piece appears to be lacking a conclusion. It apparently does. But the conclusion lies in every brain that consistently tries to be cool.


Questions & their answers. These are what it is all about.

Art, it is.

ఆమనోస్తే కొమ్మలన్ని కోయిలమ్మలు కదా!
ఆమె నీకై సాగివస్తే ప్రేమ రుతువే సదా!
దేవుడైన రాముడైనది ప్రేమ కోసం కదా!
ప్రతి జీవితం ఓ వెలుగు నీడలా బొమ్మలాటే కదా!


I bow down, Veturi. That one stroke of your pen has been successful in elevating my mood & saved me from the momentary melancholy. I haven't felt this low in the recent times & this is the song I usually searched for, on my playlist, till a couple of years ago. I haven't heard this song in ages. I acted pretentiously matured & thought I might have outgrown this feeling that listening to some old song which I used to listen when I was extremely depressed would not do any good now. But that old man who left this world and created an irreplacable void in the Telugu lyric industry, proved me wrong totally. He was a magician, I must admit. I know I am too mortal to announce something about this super mortal persona but now I really feel like.

May be that's the sheer brilliance an artist would usually deliver; that leaves the normal humans' jaws dropped and heart beat skipped. The second line from the above telugu verses he penned reinvented the trust I have got in Love. May be that's what makes a life worth living for a mere mortal like me. Wait endlessly for some art to be delivered & get lost in its's beauty, brilliance and charm once it is out.

I'd be sinned if I don't acknowledge the life poured into this song by Shankar Mahadevan & K.M. Radhakrishnan. That combination & coming together to create some magnanimous art which will go ahead to become immortal in the hearts of ardent followers. Artists coming from diversified backgrounds & with more diversity in their art, sitting in a room and creating art is something hair raising.

It could be anything, literally anything. One of the foremost reaons for which I earnestly respect art & astists as well is 'Creating something out of nothing'. You look at a plain chart, you look at it again after a couple of hours, brushes deliver strokes, colours sprinkled, a brain works and there you are, Witnessing something genuinely creative and authentically unique. The fact that the one you are witnessing is the only piece in the world makes your blood go cold. Classic.

I remember a status update on facebook from one of my friends which almost goes this way : 'Art does not stop wars nor it feeds people; but for that it doesn't have to. Art makes life bearable & worth living'.

So true.

The makeover

I always had this feeling that an afternoon nap makes the rest of the day very gloomy & the feeling proved out to be right today again. Growing oblivious conveniently to the circumstance prevailing at my place, I lazily insert my feet into my slippers & drag myself to the Moonstar. I buy myself a couple of sticks & make myself comfortable at one of the tables.

Crushing the first cigarette to death, I lose myself to thoughts, staring blankly at the railing that separates the cafe from a forbidden parking lot. This feeling of inertia grows within. Certain questions arise. Why am I a changed person? This feeling is pretty strange and amusing. uring teengae hangover, I was so talkative, enthusiastic & more importantly, very extensively open and receptive. I always welcomed discussions, made vows to abandon few things and so on. That was indeed fun. As mentioned in my previous post, that 'resigning' into myself wasn't there earlier. I sometimes tend to label that as 'laziness' but on a broader platform, both are two distinct terms. With lot of difference.

That is right what Sirish said. Growing up is so much of pain. I'd like to make a little improvisation to that statement. I'd rather say 'Being a grown up involves so much of pain'. Okay, seems like I am deviating. Back in to the ring. I hear a bang behind me, I hardly care to turn back & see what has happened. No, that ain't laziness. The retrospection that goes on in the mean time between the time when the noise was heard & the moment when I'd possibly turn & look back. As again aforementioned in my earlier post, its predictability. Trying to figure out what could have happened. While going through the entire paragraph, the one common underlying point that could be noticed is 'talking to myself'. The thought process that sees light emerges out of talking to myself. This is where I've been struggling to arrive at, from the past 50 or so lines.

This is evolution or development or growing up; whatever. Reduce talking much outside & gradually (proportionately) developing the habit of talking to self. Being proactive replced being reactive. Sitting in a corner, preferring solitude, hanging head down & going through things. I did not yet arrive at the point where I could be able to differentiate or rather judge whether being that way does any good or not but presently, I am liking it.

The need to react vocally has been reduced. It hasn't been decreased. It has been reduced. One should acknowledge the human effort here. A cluster of bars fall across the vocal cords when I am expected to reciprocate & instead a smile would appear on my lips, silently requesting the other person to accept that smile as my response. That'd be extremely safe, diplomatic & hassle-free.

Feels good to document the littlest details of my life after quite a long time.


God bless.

Tomorrow is brighter : An unfulfilling prophecy.

There was a time when I used to be stubbornly optimistic & used to wait for the good times endlessly. I argued untiringly over this wearing a tag name called 'hope'. Slowly, I began to lose that. The conclusion that it isn't going to be any different from this has started to become clear. As fancied many a times on screen, the very thought of something miraclous waiting across the lane for us makes it so exciting but at the end of the day, it is 'unrest' with all we'd be left with. So the bottomline should be this way 'Tomorrow ain't going to be any different. Now take it.' The significant virtue this mankind has developed over ages is Predictability. This is it. If I am fortunate enough, i'd get into some job with some steady pay in the near future; with 5 days of work and 2 days off from it; hopefully get married to the woman I love & lead life. It's always good to read about something far from conventionality but it doesn't really work well in my life (afraid of generalising which could possibly hurt few people).

That's a quick piece of writing after a while. That is for now.



See you again.

Western rocks are smoother.

Okay. I never thought that my All work-no play father would ever raise curtain for an intellectual encounter between him and me. This one ain't about my personal happenings but more or less about the striking differences between the developing nations & the developed.

I am actually pretty fascinated by the way westerners lead their lives. You never find this ever glowing fire in their bellies to succeed more & outdo themselves throughout their lives. Wait, let me stress on something here. Not being ambitious isn't a crime. I know the former statement would be subjected to a very serious offensive verbal attack from most of 'em out there. Well, I have an equally seconding argument up my sleeve. I personally believe that one does not have to be ambitious necessarily. Once can actually be a little smart in settling dowb for once & ever and then days get converted into months, months into years. Time takes its toll automatically. You don't have to possess that constant urge to lead the race from the front. The bottomline is 'Keep running'. You don't have to win necessarily. Looking back after years & grinning at the covered distance makes it worth running but winning alone doesn't. (How self contradictory I sound? This line totally contradicts the whole title of my previous post.)

Lets come back to the subject. Its quite interesting to observe the influence of demography of a country on its citizens' lifestyles. Let us consider India for a moment. Large country, yet compact for its population. This necessarily creates an inevitable situation for a normal Indian to take a gaint leap ahead in the race. The dowry system to bring down well settled grooms for their daughters. To become more ambitious at work to earn more that their post-retirement lives could be secured (in terms of medication expenses, living expenses etc.). I can see a proportional link between a country's population and its citizens' mind sets. In a country like England, with vast area & limited population, it becomes a chase-able task for its planning commission to ensure that every citizen receives all the benefits because of the balance it strikes between giving & receiving ends. Brits never save money for their future needs. They claim free medication from the government. They don't keep reserve funds so as to guarantee their old age needs. Every retired citizen is offered pension. That makes things easy for them. They work for 5 days, lay back & relax for 2 days. Simple lives are happy lives.

Take India, any governing alliance would sanction Rs.100 to a citizen, his take-home would be Rs.10 at the maximum. There will be a set of hungry employees in an order between the aforementioned 'giving and receiving ends'. You can't blame them totally too. They have their lives. Salaries aren't sufficient too feed everybody in abundance at their houses & this is because of high cost of living which is due to high prices & yet again, is due to imbalance between the available resources & seeking hands.

Extremely optimistic souls would exemplify China in this case & I'd get back to them saying 'Competent democracy is the worst thing ever happened to India'. An incompetent democracy would do the best.

Later.