Scraps of fancy: Vortex

As he sat on his white plastic chair in the corridor of the apartment he lived in with his outstretched legs resting on the parapet, holding a cigarette in one hand and and a book in another, the music from his room flew past him and several thoughts flooded his clouded mind and corresponding images flashed before his eyes. He took a long drag on his cigarette and blew out the smoke slowly, enjoying every bit of nicotine in it. He focused on the plumes of smoke making their way through the trees into the sky until he could no longer see anything but the stars in the night sky. There was a stability and comfort that he derived from solitude. He would kill everyone if it meant he would never die.

Moments of lucidity: The eye speaks

I position myself so that I can tackle the opponent making the run with the ball at his feet. For a split-second, I make eye-contact.

Two pairs of eyes locked at each other, each trying to out-guess the other. A tinge of pride, a tinge of fear in them. A moment of weakness in one pair, the glint of recognition and disdain in the other.

I lunge forward to tackle. I miss completely.

Sometimes, football is a test of one's spirit. You win some, you lose some.

To the grey pilgrim

I don't watch a lot of movies. I don't know why. Perhaps it's just that I hardly get into a mood for one. Or maybe it's because they get into my head. Once in a while, I watch one when someone recommends it.

The movies that Olorin, Popup, the grey pilgrim recommends have never disappointed me. I 'll go on to say that the man has an impeccable taste when it comes to movies. I remember how I fell in love with the movie called Garden State after he suggested it. It was simply beautiful. Today, I watched this Indie musical called Once. Brilliance. Incidentally, both these movies have amazing award winning soundtracks.

I hope to watch many more good ones and well, I know just the right person to go to.

Snippets

Think about a man on an island that's thousand miles away from the nearest city, with practically no connection whatsoever to other people. No exchange of goods, no communication, nothing. Is it possible to experience how that feels when you're living in a crowded place with lots and lots of people you know around you? Perhaps.
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There are three classes of people in the world, a rough classification while we're at it. There are people who can observe phenomena and processes and see the underlying patterns, understand them to a great extent but cannot create those patterns at will, there are those who can create the beautiful patterns and then there are the rest. And for those who belong to the first category, life can be quite a bitch.
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I've seen people who live in a huge mess when it comes to their rooms/home. They have no idea about where they can find what they want; clothes, books, stationery, everything strewn all around the place. Yet they are excellent when it comes to organizational abilities. I've always felt strange about it. Being a person who keeps his room clean, I sometimes feel a pang of envy when I think about these people. It'd probably be fun to live in a mess but I just cannot get myself to do it.
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I wrote this exam called GATE today for totally monetary reasons. I couldn't help feeling so heavily bored during the utterly drab exam. Why can't we have exams that hold our interest for at least as long as their bloody duration?
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A friend of mine sent me a couple of songs from this movie 'Juno' a couple of days back. Beautiful songs. I had to watch the movie after listening to them and I did. And was it a good movie or what?! If you like good drama and dark humour, it's a highly recommended watch. Ellen Page has done a terrific job with the lead role. One cannot help but find her oh-so-cute.
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Another friend of mine put up a post on his blog recently, a one-liner so concise and succinct. Brilliance.

Making sense isn't as easy as it sounds, is it?

There are times when you're out shopping and you find something that catches your eye. It may be a nice pair of sandals or a nice wallet. Everything about it seems like it was made just to suit your need and mood. But then you pick it up and find one tiny label that just kills the whole thing! Why, oh lord, should it have the label! If it weren't there you'd have shelled out whatever the store demanded but no. It's there and there is nothing you can do about it.

It's exactly the same feeling that hits you when you're watching a movie or listening to a song, perhaps, and everything is amazing before something incredibly stupid and out of place happens. Or when you're eating your favourite dish and some strong flavoured ingredient completely spoils it. Why can't they leave that scene out? Why do they have to put a 'la lala la' chorus in between? Beats me.

You cannot erase what you don't want as much as you'd love to. It shall be there, forever. It's a recurring theme in life, I guess.