Symbiopsychotaxiplasm

From Fight Club:

Tyler Durden: "Man, I see in fight club the strongest and smartest men who've ever lived. I see all this potential, and I see squandering. God damn it, an entire generation pumping gas, waiting tables; slaves with white collars. Advertising has us chasing cars and clothes, working jobs we hate so we can buy shit we don't need. We're the middle children of history, man. No purpose or place. We have no Great War. No Great Depression. Our Great War's a spiritual war... our Great Depression is our lives. We've all been raised on television to believe that one day we'd all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won't. And we're slowly learning that fact. And we're very, very pissed off."

nano - just a pea (of a) pod

i got the iPod Nano 4GB. its small and its cool.

i like it.

interregnum

2 months to the date. this is the time that has elapsed since i wrote last over here. quite a few people have actually given up on the blog. including me. never really wrote for anybody, except myself; i guess i didnt have anything to say to me. this came up in a recent discussion with a friend of mine. she insisted on writing blog entries that would generate popular interest in them. she tried to convince me too, but i guess ghosts of legs dont understand with words.

so much has happened since my last post. moved out of college. landed a job. changed 4 residences within a spate of 3 weeks. got mugged somewhere in between that. got a new laptop. a new cellphone. tried ecstacy. got 3 'excellent' ratings for my work during periodical reviews. clocked in 60 hours per week consecutively for 2 weeks. came dangerously close to being labelled a workaholic. went back to being a bum. saw 16 movies. got 2 haircuts. 5 nail clipping events. and so on and so forth...

i dont particularly feel like recounting any of the above. i dont know how i went from '--verbose' to '--quiet'. but this is how i feel for now. i think its a transitionary phase. triggered off by a change in lifestyle, time available for personal indulgence, noticeable changes in the attitude of dear friends, resurfacing of long buried feelings, a very tough decision that i had to take regarding it, the aftermath, et al.

i am quite enjoying my work over here. i havent yet joined the bandwagon of Cubicle Cribbers. i like what i do and i dont have any psychobabble qualms about it.

i recommend the following movies: saher, maatrabhoomi, maine gandhi ko nahin maara and pyaar mein twist. each one has its own merits. worth a watch.

thats it. who says i am long winded.

Weirder and Weirder

Q: Why is the world turning weirder and weirder, by the day?

A: It's because we understand lesser and lesser of it, day by day.

a quiet night in the rain

sometimes a man will hesitate to do things that well from deep within his heart. a denial of the physical translations of a basically emotional (an abstract mechanism) nature perhaps. i must admit that i have been guilty of this delinquency. many a days i've lain safe in my cocoon wanting to go outside in the rains. tonight, perhaps, i've redeemed at least that part of my personality. i must say, the feeling was as undescribable as ever; not to forget, incredible. i do not know, or perhaps do not understand, the process by which the inner emotional being wins out over the outer shell of rationale. i am just glad it did.

i walked out of my door alone at 3:15 am and just stood there in the rain, watching the drops slowly pitter patter down. i was quite amazed at myself for this act of juvenility. and i was amazed at this amazement. i could certainly have done this any other day or night i chose to. but why didnt i choose before? by before i refer to the time since i came to the US. a jolt of lightning followed by thunder woke me up from my reverie. i looked up into the sky. it was indescribably beautiful; in all senses of the word. the dull black-grey skin of the sky was revealing its marrow of white light; racing across the sky in wildy chaotic patterns. i even welcomed the bland afterimage it left on my retina as i closed my eyes to savor the moment. my heart leapt at the crackling sound of thunder, as it rolled from ear to ear. it wasnt just a reflex from the sudden loud noise that impinged on my senses; i was actually happy to hear it. i have often been, at different times, been compartmentalised into the category of romantics. i believe that this was different. it felt incredibly like being one with myself. i have been, ever since i can remember, fascinated by the tumultous aspects of nature. it just feels like home.

i started walking slowly, hands in pocket and head bent low. i dont think i consciously knew of where i was headed. in a few moments i found myself at the poolside. i looked up at the lamps hung around the pool, and small iridescent circles formed on my lenses. the riot of colors that exploded a few centimeters from my eyes was breathtaking. i let my eyes rove wildly across the lens, trying to capture all the water droplets on the lens. the sloshing sound of the soft plip plop of water droplets on the pool surface distracted me from this exercise. the normally even surface was broken into a million different ripples, each colliding with each other mid-wave which set off their own tremors. all this while i was totally unaware of the thorough drenching that i was receiving. i didnt, couldnt, feel wet. i shuffled my feet a little and they slowly slid into a small puddle of water. i let the water slip into the small space between the sole of my feet and the slippers. every part of my mind and body was going through a million different, mutually exclusive and unique, sensations. the soft trickle of water down my back was completely different from the the same thing happening on my arms. its amazing the way we are composed of an infinitesimal number of particles, each affording a completely different set of sensory experiences, and yet being whole and able to assimilate it into one.

i stayed outside for almost an hour, and didnt come in until i was thoroughly drenched. of course that doesnt really matter, for what really is more beautiful? the larva inside its cocoon, or the butterfly it is destined to become? there are some that might ask, what really is true beauty. ladies and gentlemen, it is, i believe, nothing but a moment of truth. it is that moment of truth that the larva strives to achieve in metamorphosing into a butterfly. and what was my moment of truth as i stood outside in the rain?

i "think" i know now.

back from the dead

a foul fever runneth its course through my coarse veins. the arteries werent left unvictimised either. i have been down with high fever for almost a week now. the change in weather (went up and down faster than anyone could say "anil ambani's fortunes"), misplaced fortitude, along with a motely mix of various factors, contributed towards my generally low state of physical well being. after a week in solitary confinement on my bed i finally managed to muster up enough strength to crawl all the way to the computer. in the meanwhile i also happened to partake in the luxury of stealing a peek in the mirror. for the curious at heart, i look like a train wreck that was done in by a plane crash near a sea coast. i have bags under my eyes that look larger than shopping bags at macy's. the really sad part about falling sick away from home is that you have to take care of yourself. no mom's fussing over you with home made chicken soup recipes, no overdoing the caring part, no home cooked food; yeah i missed it all.

i guess thats all i have to say for now.

a montage of views in Lubbock 

an idyllic scene outside the USDA (Lubbock) 

lets play some american football 

a song, in vain

i just had this poem/song rotting in my records for sometime now. the records being a bunch of lightly held sticky notes from 3 years ago. its still scrawled out in my unholy squiggly. somehow it has lost all its meaning for me. i dont know what i was trying to say, or what i felt at that time. maybe thats why i am putting it here on my blog. i present it to you verbatim.

i see the light at the end of the tunnel,
they say its a train come to deliver me,
i think its a dark angel come to get me.
dont trip me dear; i wanna see it come head on.

i stand there as i fly,
trying to catch my dreams,
as they all float by,
the darkness begins to grind me.

oh! its a boy with a light in his hands,
i see the innocence has all drained through his pants,
"wont you come and play by the swing?,
sit with me and wash away those sins".

as i consider, the boy disappears,
the train rolls on, without me anywhere.

oh! dont mock me, i'm just weird,
trying to find love in novels front and rear,
the pages just slip by,
stop laughing! wont you try and make me disappear.

i dont understand this mystery,
could i change myself from what i made myself be,
maybe somewhere there is retribution,
maybe somewhere there is redemption,
"hey lil boy hold my hands, i feel like sin".

wash away those memories,
wash away those tears,
look at me,
i am dying right here...