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.

Cultural enrichment

If we take a random bunch of people and analyze their cultural backgrounds, we're bound to find a lot of differences. It may be due to the fact that they were brought up in different environments or maybe because they met different people(from other 'cultural' domains) in life. I wonder how one can enrich his culture so to speak. And what is this enrichment anyway?

At some level, culture is defined by the way a set of intelligent humans interact with each other, their behavioral patterns and activities. So, the way a person reacts to different situations with different individuals or groups has some sort of correlation with his cultural fabric. Now, coming to how one can enrich himself culturally. Some methods that are widely accepted are the following. One could read literature written by articulate people from different areas of the world or from different time-lines. One could watch movies and serials that serve as some sort of a window to the world. One could listen to different music genres. But does this really help?

Isn't meeting new people and exchanging ideas the way to go about it? I mean, you can't really take something that someone says at its face value, can you? Again, how can one be sure that this is an unbiased way to go about it? The books that those people read, the movies and serials they watch, the bands they listen to, all that is influencing you indirectly, right? And of course, you can't really meet all the people in the world. Is a person who follows some ideals that he formulated based on his limited exposure to people, art and literature culturally backward as compared to someone who has better access?

Anthropologists try to classify the different components of culture to be values, norms, institutions and artifacts. Aren't these functions of the geographical location of a society, the era one is in, etc? Is there a set of values and norms that is universal and independent of everything?

A lot of emotions and instincts are actually universal. For example, honesty, trust and faith are considered to be important everywhere. Most people get angry, happy and sad for quite similar reasons. Breaking one's trust is considered as something that is 'wrong' by most people in the world. I shall not dwell into the topic of what is 'right' even though it might be related to culture. Considering this, isn't it plausible that there is a universal time-independent set of values?

In that case what is enrichment? Getting as close as possible to that ideal set?

And I am done documenting my train of thought.

The beach

Tomorrow is a holiday. That means I'm on a break from the hectic academic calendar. A short one.

I went to the beach with Guggu. Ate burgers, walked on the beach, saw footprints on the sand, felt the wind strike me ever so gently, looked at the stars, looked at waves canceling each other out, ate groundnuts, rode a motorcycle on the campus roads.

It felt good.

Jimmy

I had a pet dog. Jimmy, he was called. I killed him.
Yes. My hands are covered with his blood.
The pleasure.

I tied him to the balcony of my house.
He looked magnificent. Pure-bred. A class apart.
I took a knife. A sharp one.

Gouged his eyes out. Blood spurted from the orifice.
Beautiful brown eyes they were.
He yelped. In agony.

I broke his legs. One by one. Crushed them with a stone.
The legs on which he stood tall.
He barked. In pain. He struggled. In vain.

I cut open his stomach. I severed his head off.
A faithful dog he had been.
Jimmy could yell no more.

There is something about the game

After a semester that was an academic disaster, I needed something that'd make me feel sort of better. And I got it.

The institute football team ran into crisis mode with many players unable to render their services for the inter-IIT sports meet. And as luck would have it, I was called to join the team. From then on, it was all good. Three weeks of football and nothing else. I think it is quite safe to say that I can now appreciate what a day in the life of a professional sports person is like.

It resulted in me getting to know a bunch of people, each one with a different set of idiosyncrasies and behavioral quirks. I've always liked meeting new people and getting to know them better. And the simple reason for that is that I'm exposed to different thought processes and attitudes.

The team was virtually jinxed what with half the players getting injured and falling sick. Somehow, everything was dealt with and we managed to get through to the knockout stage. The sole strategy employed was "Score and don't concede" and it was kind of too complicated. So we decided to adopt a simpler strategy - "Don't concede". We ended up winning the tournament and the title was defended successfully.

At the end of it all, I have to say there was something about the team that made all of us tick. And there is something about football.

Coincidence?

I am sleeping in my room at around 12.30 in the afternoon after a heavy lunch. I set the alarm to ring at 1.50 so that I'd be able to get up on time for a 2'o clock lecture which I couldn't afford to miss.

Suddenly, I wake up and look at my watch. It's 2.05. I change my clothes, take my bag and run out of my room. I cycle like a mad man and reach the classroom at 2.15. I enter the class, the professor glares at me and I take a seat.

And then I get up.

I look at my watch. It's 2.05. "Oh fuck! Oh! Fuck!" I change my clothes, take my bag and run out of my room. I cycle like a mad man and reach the classroom. I look at my watch. It's 2.15. I enter the class with the professor giving me a stern look. I take a seat.

It is an air-conditioned room. And I am sweating like I 'm being roasted. I'm scared. Really scared.

Boxed in ?

I was watching the second season of The Contender series on AXN. For those who don't know, it is a reality television series which follows a boxing tournament. I remember watching a few fights the last time around, too. The primary reason I was watching was that I was bored and had nothing else to do. But then, I do enjoy watching some of the fights.

Like everyone I like the fights where the contestants push themselves to the limit and just ram each other like crazy. The speed at which they land their punches and parry blows is just incredible. Besides, their footwork is something that is just too cool! It's just pure adrenaline. Being a TV show, the producers of the show try to introduce some drama into the whole thing by focusing on the fighters' activities before and after the match. A few emotional moments with their families (read kissing and hugging wives/girlfriends/fiancees and talking to kids), a few minutes where their coaches try to pump them up and all and interviews after the match and stuff like that. Obviously I don't care about all this drama bullshit. Give me the fights and I'll be happy. But then I'm not the one producing the show.

So, I was watching it and my father came by. He looked at it and made a statement. He said that boxing and similar sports are just totally unnecessary in the civilized world. As in he saw no sense in humans smashing up each other. I liked watching it and immediately wanted to counter it. But all I could say was a weak "It's also a sport, just like any other sport." Apart from that I just couldn't find anything. But then I thought about how every sport was just some kind of entertainment and most of it was actually quite pointless. Actually I just went into the whole 'life is pointless' routine. Yeah. I go into it quite often.

But then, in other sports you don't actually go and friggin bash up someone to win. Though I know that there are various techniques and strategies involved in boxing, it is about beating the shit out of the other guy and defending yourself while he tries to do the same, ultimately. The sport(?) has its roots some thousands of years ago. But back then, it was predominantly slaves fighting among themselves to gain the favour of their masters. It just evolved to the current form where everyone fights everyone.

I thought about the gladiators fighting to death in the huge roman arenas and amphitheatres with huge crowds cheering them on and the king watching them from his throne. It is interesting to notice that things haven't changed much at all in so many centuries. There is still a spectacular arena (god knows how many millions went into building them) with the boxing ring in the middle and a huge crowd of spectators. Only, people fight with padded gloves, headgear and other protective accesories. And it is not a duel to death.

We've made amazing progress in terms of technology, science and living standards. But then, the raw animal instincts and a few basic human traits like the will to establish our superiority over others, etc will never leave us. We have devised various means to suppress them to a large extent but they still exist. The basic gamut of emotions is still very much the same as it was a thousand years ago, I guess and it'll probably never change.

Magic Moments

A lot has been said about how a few moments shape our lives and destiny. Over the last few years of my life I've witnessed a lot of events that reiterate this fact. The moment could occur anywhere. It may be in our own backyard or in front of millions of people. But it happens. And then things change. All in a matter of a few seconds.

There are times when you meet a new person and you're just having a conversation when suddenly both of you share a moment. It could be anything, a joke, a smile or that little fraction of a second when you meet the other's eyes. That moment tells both of you that you are going to hit it off well. Those few seconds could well be the foundation to a lifelong friendship.

Talking about friendship, let me move on to relationships. There is that moment, the inevitable moment which could break the beautiful relationship that has been going great since several years. You would probably do anything and everything to get one more chance but the moment is gone and what's lost is lost. And there are those amazing few seconds when you realise you've found the one for you, the person you want to live the rest of your life with.

The moment you know you've passed the hard exam, the few seconds after you've been selected in the job interview, the moment when you lose your head and do something that you'll regret for life, the fraction of a second that breaks a person's well established hard-earned trust in you, the moment when you fall for someone, that brilliant volley that tells you it's your day, the flash of brilliance after which nothing can stop you, the moments after you have won the world cup. They change everything. You are a new person after that. The world is a different place after that.

Yesterday I saw the world cup final between France and Italy. It was such an agony to watch Zinedine Zidane, the greatest football player of the last decade, known for his professional patience and calmness, do something utterly ridiculous and unnecessary, only to be sent off. The whole world was stunned. He would not be allowed to receive his silver medal after the last match of his illustrious career. It was the moment of sheer madness and frustration that took his exit from the international arena from the greatest heights of glory to utter disgrace. I was very disappointed. One question that came to my mind - Why Zizou? Why?

But then it's all about moments, those that make or break our lives. The few seconds that govern all the events that unfold after that. They're magic moments, indeed.

The outsider

I was sitting in the balcony of my house letting my mind drift away in no particular direction. I just kept thinking.

The other day, I'd just finished the weekly room-cleaning routine when my close friend Rohan came over. He looked extremely happy and excited. He gave a cursory look over my room and deemed it spotless. I smiled. I mean. All that effort put in had to pay off. Nobody could deny that. Then he said "I have some awesome news dude and you're the was the first person I'm telling it to." I was curious. Naturally. So I asked, "What is it?" He replied "I got the job man! They are paying me 7 lakhs! " It was the job he'd always wanted. The Citibank dream-job. I thought of what to tell him. I mean. I've got to tell him something. I am expected to feel overjoyed. I don't know. Perhaps he'd want me to jump with joy or hug him or something. But there I was, feeling nothing. Absolutely nothing. I smiled, shrugged and let out a little laugh. That was how I reacted when I didn't know how to react to something. With that I did what I was expected to do. I congratulated him, did the usual pat on the shoulder and hug routine, and put on the cloak. The cloak of happiness. In the hyper-excited state that he was in, I hoped he didn't notice all this. He went on and gave me all the details about his job and all and I was just laughing sheepishly and nodding now and then. Then he left.

I kept thinking about what had happened and I remembered something else. An incident that had happened a couple of years back.

I was in my room watching TV and I heard someone come into my room. It was my friend Amit. He walked in slowly, his head tilted low and it was as if it was a great effort for him to even walk. He looked like somebody had died. Really. I said, " Hey what's up man? Why do you look like somebody died?" and laughed. And he just burst into tears. I was baffled. I mean. What the hell did I do? He said "My sister. She was killed in an accident an hour back." Oh my! That just threw me totally off guard. I had to feel something atleast now. I must probably feel guilty about saying what I had. I was trying so hard to feel something. But then I just ended up shrugging and I almost let out that little laugh. Would you believe it! I was about to laugh after hearing that my friend's sister had just died. Immediately, I tried to bring a sympathetic or emphatetic or whatever expression on my face and consoled him saying " I'm sorry. Really. It must be really hard on you. I hope your parents are ok." I mean. I didn't really know what I should be saying. Then I hugged him and asked him to be strong and something and he left. I still didn't feel anything. I went back to watching TV. I was supposed to be sad and solemn and all. It was weird.

Then I remembered many more such occasions.

Like the other day when my friend came rushing into my room to show some nice piece he'd written. I read it and just smiled and laughed and gave him a few words of appreciation. Oh well. It must have been something like 'Nice piece dude' or ' Hey good. Keep writing' or maybe ' Oh cool! When did you write it?... Oh I see' or something. I'm sure he felt a little disappointed.

Take this for another instance. I had come back to college after a month long vacation and met all my friends. They were so happy they jumped and hugged each other and I could see the genuine happiness. I was smiling, the vague smile which I put on to show that I was also happy, as I was being hugged by everyone.

On an other day my sister was in tears after failing to get through and exam she had prepared for almost two years. I was just standing there not knowing what to feel or make of it, smiling vaguely. God knows why I was smiling at such a moment. But that was exactly what I was doing.

Even on the day my girlfriend broke up with me, all I could manage was the vague smile and laugh. I still remember her saying that I was always like that and that I'd never really loved her. It was like I was just watching myself stand like a rock in front of my girl who was going through an emotional roller-coaster.

I asked myself what sort of a guy I was. I mean, really. I'm sure one could discover more emotions on a stone than on my face. Had I lost the ability to feel or something?! Why was I like this? Am I some vague floating entity in this world where people are alive and feel stuff?! It was like I just didn't have those parts of my brain in place. The parts that make one feel stuff. I should feel bad about not being able to feel! Surely.

I just shrugged and laughed.

A matter of expression

Every living being on the earth has some means or the other to express itself. As humans we have various ways of expressing ourselves. Being a human myself, let me focus on humans.

A person can share his feelings with others through various modes. For example, speaking, making physical gestures, making eye contact, writing, playing and/or composing music, dancing, the list is endless. Heck, one may communicate his feelings by just being with someone doing nothing at all.

But then, why is it that not everyone can effectively express themselves in all these ways? Some people dance well, some people draw and paint well, some are excellent at music, others at speaking or writing. Is it something that is intrinsic or is it something that the person acquires because of his environment? That is to say, are things like the way he was brought up, the friends he has and everyone he meets and interacts with, where he lived, incidents that happened in his life,etc completely responsible for his being good at a particular mode of expression? Honestly speaking, I am not sure as to what it is.

Yet, I think we're all born as equals and that the deciding factor is the surroundings. Some people criticize this point of view by saying that it can never be verified; because one cannot provide the same environment to two people at the same time. I'd still go with this school of thought because I don't really like the idea of our lives being determined completely by some sort of arrangement of chemicals. I wouldn't like to believe that we're destined at birth to be good at some things and not good at other activities. The destiny theory just gets to me. Big time. There just has to be something else to it.

I recently wrote a post in my blog because I just felt like writing something. One of my close friends read it and told me writing is just not my way of expression. She told me I was impenetrable through the post and that it was extremely formal. Bluntly speaking, it meant that I hadn't written well. I wonder if I'll ever be able to write "well". But again, I wrote it. And I am one who is of the opinion that any activity that a person does can be traced back to the person's state of mind given that one knows certain basic principles of psychology, which I believe apply to almost everyone on this planet. It is something that set me thinking about all this.

Can one can reach any level of ability at a chosen activity by sheer hard-work and determination? Or does one need to "have it in him" to be good at it? I'd choose to think that one can possibly attain a good degree of ability at a given activity, provided one devotes enough time and energy to it. I may be wrong but what's the harm in giving it a go? Here, people tell me that I'll probably end up being mediocre at it and that there is no point in putting in so much effort. But in my opinion, this point of view may lead to disastrous consequences. One may not pursue an activity that one likes simply because of the apprehension that shrouds him as to whether he'll be good at it or not. And there are the matters of interest and want as well.

Heck, if one likes to do something I believe there is absolutely no harm in going ahead with it, even if he's not great at it. Does everyone who writes have to be a Maugham or a Shakespeare or something! Does everyone who plays football have to be a Pele or a Maradona! I believe one should strive to get better at what he likes to do or what he does because it is the only way ahead as I see it. If one is happy doing something, however bad he may be at it, he should go ahead with it keeping in mind that there is always time for improvement. As George Bernard Shaw would like to put it, A life spent making mistakes is not only more honorable, but more useful than a life spent doing nothing. I sincerely believe in the fact that no one is born a genius.

I don't know if I've conveyed the exact idea that bugs me but I think I've given a decent idea of what it is.

Ah! The pleasure of groundnuts!

I was walking down the sidewalk of the road, on my way back after a tiring day at work, carrying my office bag on my shoulders. The weather was positively amazing and I could feel the gentle, cool breeze caressing me.

As I continued sauntering along, the air began to get humid, the dark nimbus clouds invaded the clear sky and I could just about see the faint glow of the sun behind them. Perhaps it was going to rain.

As I made my way through a lot of people, who were hurrying with, I thought, intentions of escaping the rain lest they should get wet, I noticed the evening traffic whizz past me on the road. Then, I could sense in the air the unmistakable aroma of fried groundnuts. This seemed to rejuvenate my spirits for I truly loved groundnuts. I kept wondering if I was just imagining things until I came across the stall from which that gentle fragrance emanated. And I was right. The vendor was selling groundnuts, indeed.

I asked him for a packet of nuts, with a pinch of salt in it, and paid him two rupees. I watched as the vendor deftly made a cone out of one of the newspaper bits he had and filled it with groundnuts. Boy, Did I feel refreshed!

I continued strolling back towards home, packet in hand, eating groundnuts one by one. There was a light drizzle and the air was filled with the faint fragrance of moist mud. Two rupees well spent, I was a happy man.

Some places never change

After going through a particularly nightmarish semester in college it was time for the holidays. Phew! I desperately wanted that break. But then a month into the holidays I started feeling that the time at the college was better off . I was feeling absolutely wasted because I couldnt do anything that I had planned for the holidays. The boredom was killing me slowly.

On a particularly boring day I went to have a coffee with my uncle. As we walked around the streets of the city I suddenly felt something was odd. I kept wondering as we sauntered along on the street. Then it struck me. What was strange was that the place had not changed much at all in the ten years I was away. Everything looked exactly the same as it did years back. It was almost as if I could point to a pothole on the road and say it was there all along. Apart from a huge departmental store that had come up absolutely nothing had changed. The same old houses and the same old people.

As if to reinforce this very fact I noticed one of my grandfather's friends riding the same vehicle that I had seen him ride as a child. The TVS 50 moped - it was just unmistakable and surprisingly the person looked like he had stopped getting old a decade ago. The familiar strands of grey hair on his temples still exactly the same. And the yellow cloth bag that he always used to carry along was still there.

Then we came across this tender coconut shop I vaguely remembered. But then when I saw the vendor it all came back so clearly. God!The guy was still selling coconuts and he looked same too.The same old makeshift hut made out of coconut tree leaves. The same old lump of fresh coconuts on one side and the junk on the other side with houseflies all over it. And we moved along. I could see so many familiar faces and almost every building on the sides of the road was there then, too. I started feeling weird.

Then we reached one of the popular restaurants in the city. We were greeted by the manager of the place. Guess what, he was there a decade back as well. We sat down at the usual table for a coffee. I wondered why the place hadn't changed at all. Had the people not aged? Had time frozen in this part of the world? My lips parted into one of those smiles people give when they feel as if they know everything about the place they are in.

Some places always remain the same. And thats one of the reasons it feels so comfortable to be there. With the same old resourceful friends all over the place and all the relatives it sure is a place where one can live a peaceful life.

It was then that my uncle almost shook me to say it was time for us to return. Damn! Back to the monotonous schedule.Back to the boring holidays. Back to waiting for the college to reopen.