I wonder what people can do when they are frustrated, insecure and have a dirty competitive spirit. Everything happening around them takes an evil turn… I mean even seemingly innocuous things seem to look at them with their evil tail wagging… so is the problem with the system or with the much talked about mystery…. the human mind… I hope everyone knows the answer.
Now a question crops up… on what should be done about it… well …. Perhaps… nothing can be done about it… It’s after all the twisted mind which has to be mended. But by whom… by doing what… I donno……
The type of people I am talking about is a common feature of any corporate setting or any student community, for they make the texture more rugged and more complex. Psychology gives an explanation. It’s the frustration inside them which builds into a complex which makes them think that the entire world is conspiring against them. The human being is a colorful energy system, full of dynamic strivings. Like any energy system, the human mind also tries continuously to reach a stage of tranquility. What makes them strive for it is their “wishes” which unfortunately turns out to be a similar sounding cousin… “vicious” he he….
It’s the task of the human mind to gratify their wishes….. Provided….. it doesn’t get into trouble with …
1. Their own mind.
2. With other people.
3. The world around.
A human being, if nothing interfered, would tend to act in such a way at every moment as to try to relieve his strongest tension by gratifying his/her dearest wish.
But the irony is that the world unfortunately is a dynamic system where an individual gels in with the flow than anything else.
There are two powerful urges inside a human being… the constructive urge and the destructive urge…
When frustration takes over as the overriding emotion, the destructive urge {Mortido} becomes its weapon. It activates hostility and hate, blind anger and the uncanny pleasures of cruelty and decay. But then, will that journey be long and successful?? The world has taught us that the answer is a resounding NO.
Coming back to the core issue……. The frustrated individual….. be it sexual or mental… ends up playing with the energy systems of other people which unfortunately for the above mentioned is not static, for it can also be equally vituperative. A collective attack can probably wipe out the craving of the protagonist … err… I mean the frustrated individual.
End result……. Permanent damage to the mental faculties….. Tranquility becomes a distant dream.
Well… we should all absorb more from the story of “sage Gautama”……. Be it in a literal context or from a more spiritual base…. Poor guy…. What else can you say….
Ohh ram.... help us all......
Tuesday, February 6, 2007
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Call from heaven ..episode 2
With a full to bursting backpack (thanks to my fetish for curios n a sleeping bag) and the bewildered look of a fresher, the attention near the main gate , was immediately on me. Then came the ‘messiah’ “Rolling” by…err … I mean Hari…. my friend at IIMC…. The way he was riding his bike brought to my mind ,the picture of the typical sun tanned biker boy.
But the poor man had started riding a bike very late into his life n was still fresh from an accident. he he…Appearances can be deceiving…
I passed on some pleasantries with him for coming and picking me up in the wee hours…sorry 7 am is in the same segment in a ‘B school’….
The bike slowly rolled into the territory of the lakes. I call it their territory because the entire environment is chiseled out of it. The entire eco system in that area works on the lake as the focal point be it the white spotted roads or the perpetual chirp or the dancing foliage or the determined breeze…
We slowed down near the “Howrah bridge”(the iimc version) . a nice lil replica adapted well into natural settings. Bridges and the vitality underneath always make me itch for a smoke. For a person who finds shocking correlations between a dream girl and a Wills Navy Cut, that was the right moment. I took out a disfigured ciggy from a travel battered pack and lit my way into IIMC.
Correlations never seem to leave me. I have a tendency to relate the bliss derived out of a smoke to the energy in a particular place.
Talking about correlations, I have another one working, of linking the class of a meal to the pleasure derived out of a smoke after that.
After all sense can be derived out of nonsense………
After the rendezvous with the Howrah Bridge, we moved onto the famous boat jetty, which caters to everything except boats. The floating jetty probed the entrepreneurial mind in me. What about a floating restaurant there? But since I was not in a mood to go into a managerial verbal diarrhea, I asked that spark to buzz off. I always have my share of the cassata of jargons. There are some people in my class who are so good in making them. But an overdose of it has killed the fascination for that taste. Now I have started loving anything that’s bland.. I mean devoid of the jargons… hell with KRAs , bottom lines n bottlenecks.. Life is more beautiful….. n promising…..
Then the biker boy took me to the different hostels.. Ramanujan hostel, Tagore hostel.. both of them remnants of the past and the supposed to be new OH,NH,Annexe…
The nightmares of the past week were continuing to harrow me, n my mind n body ached 4 the comforts of THE WALL. That urge led me to the halting point of the journey. Hari’s room … I still wonder how he fits into that room…..too small for comfort though… but my previous encounters with penny-pinching existence put me in good stead here. I was ready 2 go into a trance .. I mean u know what….. with soothing melodies of the 1980’s in the background and a tripping mind due to an exposure to the GREEN, I slowly transcended the mountain plains of mundane existence to fall into a valley…an emerald valley studded with cannabis sativa………………………(to be continued)
But the poor man had started riding a bike very late into his life n was still fresh from an accident. he he…Appearances can be deceiving…
I passed on some pleasantries with him for coming and picking me up in the wee hours…sorry 7 am is in the same segment in a ‘B school’….
The bike slowly rolled into the territory of the lakes. I call it their territory because the entire environment is chiseled out of it. The entire eco system in that area works on the lake as the focal point be it the white spotted roads or the perpetual chirp or the dancing foliage or the determined breeze…
We slowed down near the “Howrah bridge”(the iimc version) . a nice lil replica adapted well into natural settings. Bridges and the vitality underneath always make me itch for a smoke. For a person who finds shocking correlations between a dream girl and a Wills Navy Cut, that was the right moment. I took out a disfigured ciggy from a travel battered pack and lit my way into IIMC.
Correlations never seem to leave me. I have a tendency to relate the bliss derived out of a smoke to the energy in a particular place.
Talking about correlations, I have another one working, of linking the class of a meal to the pleasure derived out of a smoke after that.
After all sense can be derived out of nonsense………
After the rendezvous with the Howrah Bridge, we moved onto the famous boat jetty, which caters to everything except boats. The floating jetty probed the entrepreneurial mind in me. What about a floating restaurant there? But since I was not in a mood to go into a managerial verbal diarrhea, I asked that spark to buzz off. I always have my share of the cassata of jargons. There are some people in my class who are so good in making them. But an overdose of it has killed the fascination for that taste. Now I have started loving anything that’s bland.. I mean devoid of the jargons… hell with KRAs , bottom lines n bottlenecks.. Life is more beautiful….. n promising…..
Then the biker boy took me to the different hostels.. Ramanujan hostel, Tagore hostel.. both of them remnants of the past and the supposed to be new OH,NH,Annexe…
The nightmares of the past week were continuing to harrow me, n my mind n body ached 4 the comforts of THE WALL. That urge led me to the halting point of the journey. Hari’s room … I still wonder how he fits into that room…..too small for comfort though… but my previous encounters with penny-pinching existence put me in good stead here. I was ready 2 go into a trance .. I mean u know what….. with soothing melodies of the 1980’s in the background and a tripping mind due to an exposure to the GREEN, I slowly transcended the mountain plains of mundane existence to fall into a valley…an emerald valley studded with cannabis sativa………………………(to be continued)
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Call from heaven..........
Was slogging my ass on the PMA project when the call came. The time..24.00….. Logistical clarity …nil….. Emotional clarity….100%.... in a world where the head has always ruled over the heart, I find myself as an exception. Exceptions are bound to happen. I kept on reminding myself, something that has carried me on for a long time…….. People around me were pretty worried. I donno which word to use….. One of my close friends went to the extent of saying.. Whatever you do…plss COME BACK…. Ha ha … what an embarrassing situation… when u try to fix ur foot firmly on new grounds. Old time tested realities take a beating…its again put to the test of the world, the society…..
Though reluctant 2 answer such concerns…. Respecting the genuineness of the question.. a reluctant nod followed. he he…..
Then, 2 of my friends’ volunteers to drop me at the station……
The 5 km ride through the chilly Jamshedpur night itself was relaxing..
Finally reached the station…More than in other occasions, the station appeared very appealing…. Then I learned a universal truth that its your desires that makes an object relatively appealing.
With the ever inviting railway station in the back ground and the concerned faces of my friends scanning the intricacies of my mind….. my journey started……but given the frame of mind, I found a lot of warmth in the concern. I rediscovered a lost charm, as the archaeologist in me would say…as rare as the Holy Grail……
Then started the haggle with the TTE for a sleeper ticket…… Ethics on one side and the tiring body on the other side….. Finally got allotted a seat ….. was about to sleep… then ….. Thought of going n having a smoke…. Dada was also game…… there started a conversation that stretched my urge to sleep for another hour…it was about the villages of Sunderbans… Dada was brought up in one of them…. The passion that filled his words made me sit up and take notice…..We talked about the lack of development that characterized the area…. And most importantly … a deterrent …… to prevent me from going for the planned trip to Sunderbans…. Initially it sounded as just another ranting … but the fact that it came from a person who had spent half of his life in the jungle made my head wake up from a state of rusty slumber… finally logic started to sound logical... he he….
After the pleasure of a cigarette in the dark dingy aisle of a train, something even more pleasurable was awaiting me….. a well deserved rendezvous with lady sleep…. And this time I couldn’t say no to the call….. a call anybody, starved of her presence would find hard to refuse……and I also obliged…
The daybreak was shaking………. Dada really scared the hell outta me tryin 2 wakes me up….. I was probably having a nightmare….. but something good could be observed……. I stopped registering Nightmares…. Hoorah………
Yeah I could smell it….. The colourful smell of Calcutta……smell n colour.. Sorry… that’s the way I relate things….
Now that I was in the citadel of communism…. I expected fairness…. Hell with fairness … I must be living in Utopia…. As long as there exists inequality in this world…. Fairness becomes nothing more than a distant relative…rather a distant dream………..
The haggling had to continue….. this time in the form of the taxi driver….. Yeah…. what to do…. A sense of resignation….. No way….the worshippers of Mammon……… Can’t help it… more than an ideological conflict, the destination was more appealing………Me n Joydeep hopped onto the crumbling yellow taxi…. Which just zoomed past the traffic…. Quite an achievement for a taxi of its age….. Even though laced with moments of anxiety caused by unwarranted brushes with death, the journey was breathtaking……………….
Every turn made my head move around like a turtle…… cos the only thing I had in my mind was Joka…. The place where jokars resided… that’s XL logic….. Finally saw a big gate which said IIM C……. hoorah…….
When I expressed my thanks to the driver of the cab…. It was much more than a usual exchange of good-natured remarks …. Something that had a lot of bearing to my life as well……
Though reluctant 2 answer such concerns…. Respecting the genuineness of the question.. a reluctant nod followed. he he…..
Then, 2 of my friends’ volunteers to drop me at the station……
The 5 km ride through the chilly Jamshedpur night itself was relaxing..
Finally reached the station…More than in other occasions, the station appeared very appealing…. Then I learned a universal truth that its your desires that makes an object relatively appealing.
With the ever inviting railway station in the back ground and the concerned faces of my friends scanning the intricacies of my mind….. my journey started……but given the frame of mind, I found a lot of warmth in the concern. I rediscovered a lost charm, as the archaeologist in me would say…as rare as the Holy Grail……
Then started the haggle with the TTE for a sleeper ticket…… Ethics on one side and the tiring body on the other side….. Finally got allotted a seat ….. was about to sleep… then ….. Thought of going n having a smoke…. Dada was also game…… there started a conversation that stretched my urge to sleep for another hour…it was about the villages of Sunderbans… Dada was brought up in one of them…. The passion that filled his words made me sit up and take notice…..We talked about the lack of development that characterized the area…. And most importantly … a deterrent …… to prevent me from going for the planned trip to Sunderbans…. Initially it sounded as just another ranting … but the fact that it came from a person who had spent half of his life in the jungle made my head wake up from a state of rusty slumber… finally logic started to sound logical... he he….
After the pleasure of a cigarette in the dark dingy aisle of a train, something even more pleasurable was awaiting me….. a well deserved rendezvous with lady sleep…. And this time I couldn’t say no to the call….. a call anybody, starved of her presence would find hard to refuse……and I also obliged…
The daybreak was shaking………. Dada really scared the hell outta me tryin 2 wakes me up….. I was probably having a nightmare….. but something good could be observed……. I stopped registering Nightmares…. Hoorah………
Yeah I could smell it….. The colourful smell of Calcutta……smell n colour.. Sorry… that’s the way I relate things….
Now that I was in the citadel of communism…. I expected fairness…. Hell with fairness … I must be living in Utopia…. As long as there exists inequality in this world…. Fairness becomes nothing more than a distant relative…rather a distant dream………..
The haggling had to continue….. this time in the form of the taxi driver….. Yeah…. what to do…. A sense of resignation….. No way….the worshippers of Mammon……… Can’t help it… more than an ideological conflict, the destination was more appealing………Me n Joydeep hopped onto the crumbling yellow taxi…. Which just zoomed past the traffic…. Quite an achievement for a taxi of its age….. Even though laced with moments of anxiety caused by unwarranted brushes with death, the journey was breathtaking……………….
Every turn made my head move around like a turtle…… cos the only thing I had in my mind was Joka…. The place where jokars resided… that’s XL logic….. Finally saw a big gate which said IIM C……. hoorah…….
When I expressed my thanks to the driver of the cab…. It was much more than a usual exchange of good-natured remarks …. Something that had a lot of bearing to my life as well……
Monday, November 20, 2006
Mariana..... I can feel you.....
Am i there?... I donno
Am i not there?.... I donno
I can feel the seeping cold
I can feel the slimy walls
Still, flummoxed as ever
Feelings fail to register
in a stage of perpetual abnegation
Help me out of this morass,said the hominid
Wanna plunge deeper ,said the occult
The journey has begun,said the rationale
Rationale,always greek and latin
Did i hear something....
A soothing lullaby maybe
Maybe tells me of hope,
the object of a short and sweet existence
Nah, It's not hope..
But an incarnate food for thought
I could feel the warmth
That streamlined through the sea of cold
But O Mind....
Contradictions be thy middle name
A conclusion ,a circuitous illusion
The canvas is live....
The brushes never static..
Neither was it Van Gogh,nor was it botticelli....
Neither a portrait ,nor a landscape....
Neither a pattern,nor a scheme..
But a bubbling frenzy....
Where "sense" follows relativity..
And being "insane",the epitome of absoluteness..
HUH
chuck it
Hope i could feel what Denver felt.....
Mariana,i will miss you...
Wanna miss you...
But.....
Will be back for sure...
Am i not there?.... I donno
I can feel the seeping cold
I can feel the slimy walls
Still, flummoxed as ever
Feelings fail to register
in a stage of perpetual abnegation
Help me out of this morass,said the hominid
Wanna plunge deeper ,said the occult
The journey has begun,said the rationale
Rationale,always greek and latin
Did i hear something....
A soothing lullaby maybe
Maybe tells me of hope,
the object of a short and sweet existence
Nah, It's not hope..
But an incarnate food for thought
I could feel the warmth
That streamlined through the sea of cold
But O Mind....
Contradictions be thy middle name
A conclusion ,a circuitous illusion
The canvas is live....
The brushes never static..
Neither was it Van Gogh,nor was it botticelli....
Neither a portrait ,nor a landscape....
Neither a pattern,nor a scheme..
But a bubbling frenzy....
Where "sense" follows relativity..
And being "insane",the epitome of absoluteness..
HUH
chuck it
Hope i could feel what Denver felt.....
Mariana,i will miss you...
Wanna miss you...
But.....
Will be back for sure...
an emotional quagmire{a crappy creation i feel}
The altar was smiling...
The ram was bleeding....
The moon was dark....
The mood so stark.....
No pain, No despair....
Not a single soul to spare....
Grovelling in the dust..
dieing but a must.....
Lead me on...
but where?
Where questions have no answers...
Where differentiation is alien..
where love is pure..
But what is pure he he...
The king came down
Some say as a beast...
Some say as a messiah...
Answers,they elude me..
Forever maybe..
The ram was bleeding....
The moon was dark....
The mood so stark.....
No pain, No despair....
Not a single soul to spare....
Grovelling in the dust..
dieing but a must.....
Lead me on...
but where?
Where questions have no answers...
Where differentiation is alien..
where love is pure..
But what is pure he he...
The king came down
Some say as a beast...
Some say as a messiah...
Answers,they elude me..
Forever maybe..
Sunday, November 19, 2006
Freedom to live guarantees Freedom to die.....,
If freedom is self-ownership, ownership over one's own life and body, then the right to end that life is the most basic of all. If others can force you to live, you do not own yourself and belong to them.
All existence ends in death
Therefore, what is the point?
The human challenge:
Descend into nothingness
or have the ‘courage to be’?
All existence ends in death
Therefore, what is the point?
The human challenge:
Descend into nothingness
or have the ‘courage to be’?
The dark abyss..........
Am I happy? Probably not. When i feel i dont have anything to live for, I have to think of death, and I do not like the thought. There is a vestigial fear of hell, and even of purgatory, and no amount of rereading rationalist authors can expunge it. If there is only darkness after death, then that darkness is the ultimate reality and that love of life that I intermittently possess is no preparation for it. In face of the approaching blackness, the black velvet, concerning oneself with a world that is soon to fade out like a television image in a power cut seems mere frivolity. But rage against the dying of the light is only human, especially when there are still things to be done, and my rage sometimes sounds to myself like madness. It is not only a question of works never to be written, it is a matter of things unlearned. How can one fade out in peace, carrying vast ignorance into a state of total ignorance?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
