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.