monday blues

Mondays are bad days, days when you feel that the next weekend is never going to arrive, days when you wish your weekends were a tad bit longer or atleast more productive.. The endless mails piling in your inbox waiting to be read.....the loathful ticking of the clock announcing as always that you are getting late for an endless day of nonsense...of doing things you don’t believe....of severe nostalgia of having spend two great days...of seeing the same old faces and wondering when i’ll get used to their language....when i will get their wavelength....but hoping against the tide that i don’t loose ....of the endless faux pas that are going to be committed...worst is the realisation that this motivates you very little and the faux pas are actually a result of your subconscious need not to get used to this lifestyle....eternally its a doubt boggling my mind...is it that this place doesn’t appeal to me as i know it doesn’t to many or is it this kind of living....this way of being....do i want to be somewhere else and if so where?? So between this endless questioning and emptiness i made a decision that i will stick to this for a while...to be practical ...to earn some dough...to be able to do what i want....just do what one has to do....but again the question nags me....would i have been more efficient if i was in a scenario that suited my temperament...oh this Monday blues always pull me down with it.....i should quit this instant before i quit this job!!

unfinished

Words are flying out like endless rain into a paper cup
They slither while they pass
They slip away across the universe
Pools of sorrow waves of joy are drifting thorough my open mind
Possessing and caressing me
Jai guru deva om
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world
Nothing's gonna change my world

(Beatles- Across the universe)

untitled

its been a bad day....please don't take a picture..its been a bad day...rem surrounds the room as i sit like a sloth in front of my computer...what a wasteful day.....a bright holiday in the middle week but what do i do instead...sleep and sleep...well also watched an old classic....i remember in college wanting to watch it for its symbolic contents....today i couldn't differentiate any profound matter except for masses of flesh all over the place....oh the movie is caligula....if you ask me to explain the movie in a line i'd say...its fleshy and gory....it was soooo full of naked flesh that i had nightmare during my afternoon siesta.....also made me feel more like a sloth for being lazy, for putting on a lot of slothy weight...suddenly i am repulsed by the excess flesh...i feel i might soon become a mass of red meat rotting in an immovable state...arrrgh!!! so by evening i had enough reasons to go out for a walk do some pending work, get myself enrolled for yoga...hope i keep the dates.....life can be so depressing if you refuse to ignite enough passion in you to even get out of ones nest....all my plans of theatre, music, learning an instrument, learning a laguage has gone down the drain...whats the excuse...don't have no dough...but theres always enough to eat cheesy italian,have extra beer, meaty dinners....ah if only one was more passionate than a constant regretter....threshold boredom will soon be crossed...then i will get my ass off this chair and all chair...whether they revolve or not!!!

synchrony

its been a weird day....theres been a lack of synchrony...critical lack of coordination...between the two sides of my brain.....on the one side i am all excited about last day's trip...i am tripping on it...but something seems incomplete....i waited all morning to write that last blog....like the Lady Muse was pushing to it but now that i have written it..it seems mechanical and incomplete...just like i feel today...theres excitement in the insides but on the outside people complain that i look "phased-out"...is it that sense of incompletion...the fear of losing the moments that felt really good but might never come back again...am i getting nostalgic before its time....am i missing my gang of boys....most of them are leaving for different corners of the world..maybe its irretreivable pain of losing the past and never having a future...its missing a certain kind of living succulently mixed with an incompletion ofemotions...i still don't know what i really want to say...its clearly constipated and i shouldn't kill the time of my precious few readers but wait for days to pass so the fog clears...as my friend says its the moral at the end of the story thats missing...but maybe theres no moral but a carefully strung thread of happy experiences....oh, bullshit again...bye

like a sleepy blue ocean, you fill up my senses, come fill me again

Me and my gang of men went on a road trip....to pondichery....yea sorry its not a long ass india tour or something but still.....it was special...irrespective of the fact that the gang of men don't differentiate me and them as female and male, i' d like to do that for comfort.....i was excited, a tad bit worried about the trip as my cultivated habit of living it in the thick of things especially in"menly" things had rusted with the years, but not beyond retrieval, once again as years before in college i was subject to conversation that centred around what one could call "below the belt". farting, mastrubating, sodomy...name it....though the discomfort initially shown in all their eyes making me feel a bit guilty for the formality, i had to push it to think that comfort is a zone of interaction one mutually creates overtime...and i can proudly say the levels were more or less crossed....i also learned about my weird nature of being restricted like ass-never-used to becoming someting of a i don't care where my ass is...its always been this way....so i let my hair down to incorporate the jokes that otherwise feminists would cringe at..... cause i know thats how it goes....you can't trace epistemology and power of discourse when it is coming at you at the speed of light or when you are tightly stuck to your seats hoping they will never get comfortable enough to fart on your face...


So we reached the beach side town of mahabs in the eve, a perfect time to chill and after much debate we went to my fave place, the bob marley restaurant, no they don't serve scrumptuous seafood or french/italian cuisine...its chilled beer and whatever they muster from the market made in a style you can call "their-own"...but its a quiant little hut on a the beach in a quiant lil town...has its exotic value that cannot be related...well it didn't take me this long (as the explanation took) to get high within this exotic hut.....conversation was now a steady stream of sweet nothings and holy cussing....i am told at some point i swayed enough to think i was a mermaid...i say good progress from my old status of a fish monger.....that day went in long hours of gulping beer....

our early plan for the next day...which was to hit the road before sunrise to the french colony was disturbed by more snorring.....happy sleep....but to be jolted by a ride to the sea on a boat was worth the wait......in our bright life jackets, a lil to gawky and funny......we faced the waves lashing at us with a might i never fathomed.....the thrill reached its peak when when we were pointed out the submerged temples....soon like kids we wove stories of treasures and of sharks....yea we are a bunch who watched too much of commercial mainstream jump-out-of-your-seats movies.....jumping into water was not as easy as i thought....the sense of drowning , the uncertainity of drowning, the water in your lungs and my specific incapacity to have my feet grounded...for a moment i panicked....i could get lost in the waves or sink in the depths......it took me a while to realise that panic itself was the rock on your feet, it pulls you down...took a moment to meditate, to relax..afterall i am surrounded by belief laden chivalrous men...i can't stray too far...so with an ounce of fear, two cups of love of water....and a bucket of trust in my fate and my companions....i enjoyed every moment of bouyancy in water....like a fish but not with finesse i floated in water...of course my hands gripped the men next to me ....i needed protection too!! these are moment i wish there was neither male nor female...no social inhibition....when clothes become an inhibiting factor but socialising have long acquainted you with the art of being modest...

I thought that was thrilling until i decided to hitch a ride, with an ol friend, as a pillion rider on his bike......now i can't decide which was more life shaping the unknowable expanse of the sea or the whizzing wind threatening to blow me off the bike...my fear of water was cured, my fear of speed was numbed as the bike sped no whizzed within the range of 100-120 kmph.....but hey i conquered....my heart stopped at several junctures but i can't help the head rush of having conquered another fear within the span of two hours.....well not really conquered for life but for now....

Trip got mellower as we crossed to the next town...once again i found myself, someone who is otherwise likely to fall for something of this fashion, cynical about the exclusive settlement of architects at auroville...unnecessarily i realise..... for the philosophy was not unthought of at one point in my life...its probably the cynicism of my stages that make me so cynical about its external manifestation...a world trying to escape the real world...pretending to cut out the noise from the outside...but yes it can be a hub of creativity....if one thinks that the brain can function in a shell ..and creativity is sparred by this exclusivity...ok,ok i don't know what i am talking about. I think theres more to learn from the sea and the beach than from structures...lame but will try to pretend thats personal philosophy that is profound...cause i am sensual enough to enjoy my dip in the water and eternallly conquering that sense of fear....so yes the trip was for me all about breaking thin barriers slowly, as time went by...with friends, with oneself, with the elements....with liquor too...i can't write anymore cause there are too many thoughts that cannot at once be processed to words...or maybe i don't have the thoughts but an urge to think that i have thoughts...

on the road to El Dorado

So i lived in a house with a father who loved mysteries...who would point to the sky and spot moving objects with colourful lights, on clear nights when power cuts were the norm...he would look at me with a sparkle in his eyes and say " amu come, come here" and i would inevitably, like all the times before, be carried away by his fascination...i would run up to him and look eagerly in the direction he pointed....and up in the wide expanse...between the black sky and twinkling stars would be an unknown light...is it possible!!...but as all well-brought-up-rationalist kids..i would go..nah thats a satellite or a night flight...but my dad would insist....point out height difference or colour difference to prove that it was a UFO.....spying on earth through the night sky....aliens from some unknown galaxy...can they see me?....nah its a satellite!!

For years and years these were the stories that filled the half-hour span of darkness when our nuclear family sat together watching the clear night sky....there was always too much of disbelief....but the stories continued persistently...its almost ingrained in my soul...what about the lights or the life beyond, the event horizon, the patterns seen on the fields or the sightings of unknown creature with big eyes...too many evidence just like the faithful saw god evrywhere...years moved but the stories continued in its various hues...or rather in accordance to my old man's whims....then came the holy grail (mind you, years before dan brown or that crap)....the gospel according to judas and thomas..the lost gospels....lost years of jesus youth....the Gita, the Buddists on himalayas....it still continues.....he never realised how much i was being influenced...how much beyond the garb of cynicism i believed him....

one such mystifying story was this settlement built of gold for which the Spanish searched high and low...the El dorado....According to my old man it wasn't that this place was hidden from the spanish but more a mysterious disappearence of this otherwise visible structure from the view of the white man...who had come with the mission to loot....me thinks maybe the sun god had darkened the great andes so that the shadows fell upon the huge structure....a sanctuary built to honour and worship the sun god...a fertile high point from where one could see and own the world...my old man even thought that it was not ordinary people who lived there but aliens....their unknowability being translated into godliness.....the belief then goes that the whites found the fruits of knowledge...of corn, tomato and potato...from this land..and that these seeds were in fact not one that belonged to this planet but of some other...if one is not too wrong...for the longest time the christians in north america protested against corn as the fruit of the devil, if devil can be just a pagan or the unknown or just an alien from outer space...it makes sense...i am sure you have seen movies like the children of the corn....i'd say corny rather...whatever....coming back to the topic....it was nutritious and the fruits had an appealing bright colour...well the devil won for now more than a majority of the citizens of the US of A have these in their daily diet...they are the ketchup country...the magic seeds once sown by aliens/devil/peruvians like a doctrine widespread has seeped into the arteries of all the devout and others alike.....


So today as i looked with fascination once again at the pictures of Machu pichu...the lost city of the incan civilization....i was reminded of the old stories...of el dorado..of the mystery of the hidden city on top of the mountain....the city of the sun god...city so fertile that it is probable to even think that it was the sun god's harem.....there are structures to prove they worshipped the female...if you know what i mean... or maybe sun was a goddess...so abundant....the land of exotic fruits...the structure so mysteriously created...stone upon stone with not so much as an adhesive to hold them...more that 2000mts from sea level...how did it reach there...thousands of men working in the night to create an abode for the gods......so secretively stored until another white came along to cheat the natives of their secret...woe be to that man who let down a civilization by telling on it...woe be to the spanish conquerors!!! but i guess thats a lie cause i plan to go to the city soon...to discover the treasure lost somewhere....and i couldn't have gone there if he hadn't told on them....but what happened to the incas?

please visit http://www.andeantravelweb.com/peru/gallery/photos_machu_picchu_peru_01.html

the inward eyes

So it always works best for me to look inward....maybe because i always had the tendency or because i learnt philosophy and fellana-shellana...for the same reason every where i go, everything i do, its about the personal experience, the feeling, the emotion...it added to some redundant function of sensitivity that didn't actually reach out to people but reach out to concepts of people. when i joined work, it was always what am i doing here, how am i doing it...blah, blah...its called i think the antakarana...if i remember right...it lead to (if and only if the self is elimin ated) to Brahman...don't question me on what that is...anyway recently life had become boring with the only thing to do all day long being this stupid inward business...this blog itself is representative of that nature of mine...and i clearly recognise this moment is all about that...but well the future seems to hold much for me ,all of a sudden...and there is no time to look inward...no reflection...just go with the flow...in the long run it might result in a person neither here nor there....but suddenly it feels so relieving not to be able to look inward...no time to do any of that...life has become simpler...i can fit myself into a larger picture...i am not a rock sticking outward in a well aligned cliff...yes iconoclasm must become recessive...seeking for difference and change might slow down...but i think it is a good break. good break from the boredom...from the eternal cringing at the thought of your life trajectory...now its all about everything will fall into place and i like everyone will fit into some graphic design (not the godly types) but some type or the other....so lets toast to the transient freedom in my life.