Making sense...

There is nothing new under the sun. Even the thoughts which are new to me aren’t really new. Other people would have thought up those ideas long ago. Even now there could be a number of people having the same ideas. What then makes my thoughts special?

Is it the personal discovery of it? Perhaps.

What moves me to share those thoughts with others? Is it to see if there is anybody who would understand me and share my discovery with me? To see if there are others who think like me? Perhaps.

Perhaps we all seek to connect and understand and make sense. Perhaps, each of us brings different pieces of the jigsaw. Each of us puts out the pieces of puzzle that we hold helps us makes sense of the bigger. Perhaps that is why melding your thought with mine makes better sense.

The big picture, I suppose, is the same old, same old. However, discovering the varied different pieces, seeing it come together, and watching the meaningfulness emerge is new. It is brand new.

Jealous

Jealousy, like a drop of heavy poison

Grips my heart and drags it down

Through the mud

I try to grab my heart

And squeeze the last drop

Out of it

While i rest

Thinking that I’m rid of the poison

I feel my heart become heavy again

The darkness stains my mind

The claws clutch my conscience

Drop by drop

Little by little

Claw by claw

I will be rid of it

By the power of Him

who can rid me of it

Stories

I have been wondering at the power stories hold.

Stories are a part of everybody's lives. I, too, have had my fair share of stories - both consuming them and creating them. From the stories my mother would read in the newspaper supplements and tell me going to bed, to the fictions i have guzzled, to the movies i've watched, to the funny anecdotes that are repeated ever so often, and the stuff i've read and written in blogs. There is nothing new about stories.

Yet, they are so fascinating. Recently, i have been wondering at the power stories hold. Stories bring home reality like nothing else does, even if it is just imagined fiction. I amazed at the way a human being can connect to the life and experiences of another person, in another situation, in another world altogether.

I am sure there are a number of rational explanations as to why it happens, but that still does not diminish the wonder of it all.

The movie Australia, although not one of the best ones, really struck a chord in me. This brought to life the experiences of the Stolen Generation. Stolen Generation was something that was close to my heart, because of the stories my good friend from the down under shared with me when explaining to me what brought her to India.

There are stories that have made me feel helpless. Slumdog Millionaire, Hard-boiled Wonderland, Disgrace. While the injustice is made apparent in the imagined world, it brings home the reality in my world. Like the protagonists in these stories, there is nothing you can do.

And then, there are stories that have warmed my heart. The struggle between good and evil and the eventual triumph of good. I especially love stories where the struggle between good and evil takes place in one person's heart and not necessarily between the good party and the bad party. In essence, the good and the bad dwell in the same person. That person's victory over the evil in their heart is something that gives me hope.

There are imperfect stories, with the not so perfect ending. Nonetheless, reflecting the imperfection of the world and its people. This in itself is a revelation of the desire for perfection.

Well, there are all sorts of stories out there. And i hope to relish them, and let them do their thing in my heart. For often, data justifies my motivation, but it is stories that provide the motivation.

You learn

I am doing a few things at this point of time in my life...

• Wondering who to vote for on Wednesday
• Taking the summer for what it is with minimal complaining about heat
• Loving work
  
• Loving my new place (it's not quite so new now)
• Learning some new things
• Unlearning some old things
• Relearning some unlearned things
• Trying to get my blog up and running again
• Contemplating changing the layout and design, etc.
  

What's up with you this summer?

Fossils and other troubles in office...

1. Every time i want to open my hotmail account, i type in 'hot' and hit enter. Unfortunately, the auto complete does not take me to hotmail unless i type 'hotm'. And the result? It takes me to the google page for hot...

2. I cleaned my desk after a long time, and this is what i found...For those of you wondering what it is, it is a fossil (?) of a dead house (or office in this case) lizard. A baby by the looks of it...

Don't ask...

Everybody's gotto have their say (about elections), cause that's what we do in democracy

This morning I woke up uttering the word ‘idiots.’ There was a speaker blaring loud, inane songs*, the lyrics of which were interspersed with mention of the symbol used by one of the major** parties here.

There are certain things that I don’t understand. Canvassing methods used by the political parties here is one such recent mystery. While technology and advertising have taken giant steps forward with all their subliminal messages and whatnots, the canvassing methods seem to have got stuck in a time warp. There is nothing subliminal about them. Absolutely nothing.

Well, I must confess they have made some sort of progress. They used those larger versions of bullhorn sort of speakers before. Now the normal kind of speakers are used, although that still hasn’t affected the quality of sound.

And oh, I’ve also managed to catch glimpses of different dances and buggy rides that have been used in canvassing in certain other parts of the country. From what little I saw/read of those, it just looked comical.

From what little I have perceived in the last couple of months, this year’s canvassing seems to have turned away from all the real issues and have turned toward these varying kinds and degrees of stupidity. This, I believe, is a ‘distraction technique’ something akin to what we would do to keep a child from crying or something like that.

Coming back to the issue at hand, perhaps, what happened this morning was a stride forward in canvassing techniques. May be, just may be, the opposing party was the one that was blaring the noise so loud, at 6 am in the morning, so that people will be put off from voting for that particular party.

All this makes it increasingly difficult to ‘choose’ whom I should vote for. Or perhaps, should I say, this has only made it easier?

* They couldn’t exhibit creativity even in the songs! The tunes are all popular Tamil movie song tunes, which are sometimes copies themselves.

** I’m not sure if there are majority parties in India anymore, nor even majority ‘coalition’ of parties.

Me

I don't have it in me
To be what you want me
to be
To be what i ought
to be

Who is me?
A somebody that already is?
Or a somebody that is still becoming?

How far do i stretch out
before i stop being me?
How far do i stretch out
to become me?

All in a box

I am packing to move houses. And my favourite place to start is the bookshelf. As I try to figure how to place the books of such various dimensions, I wonder why they can’t be all of the same shape and size to make packing neat and easy.

I smile. It is the difference that makes each unique. The length, the breath, the thickness, the binding, the cover, the content… Each so different.

And they shall all have a place in the cardboard cartons.

I sigh

Drowning in a sea of thoughts
Waves crashing
One against another
And new ones forming
Rushing towards my conscious mind

I struggle to resurface
To thrust my head
Through the crashing thoughts
I gasp for breath
I sigh

My friends tease me about the number of times i sigh. I quite didn't know how to explain why i sighed so much. And i didn't intend to write this thing as an explanation. I sat sighing this morning and this is what came out of it. :-)

Should have done this earlier, but i suppose i'm not too late...

Happy New Year, folks!