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.