Venting out...

One of the best ways to write something when you have nothing to start of with is to just start. And that is what I am doing. I am hoping that as I go along something will come out of this process. Also, I seem to be writing only when I don't feel the greatest. Perhaps I like venting out.

But what do I vent out about? That the world is not going to change and there is no use trying to? That I still am the hypocrite that I always knew I was? And worse still, I refuse to do anything about it… Or do I wonder about the whole meaning and purpose thing? I have done it all before. Yet, it has taken me nowhere. So here I am, venting out still…

So this has been a pointless post. Sorry about that.

Tangle

It is all a pointless tangle

Knotted in

Knotted out

The seeker and his journey

The lover and his longing

The rich and his wealth

The poor and his anguish

The meaning and the search for it

Untangling it

Sometimes slowly

Sometimes hurriedly

Sometimes giving up

Pointless Pointless

For the tangle remains

Trip and tripping

We walked into Starbucks to get coffee (*duh*). G asks me what I want. I couldn't make up my mind between cappuccino and coffee frappuccino. So, I ended up asking for crappuccino…

G and Sophie dropped me off at my friend's place and they went exploring the little city of Lebanon. They had visited Strover Dam Park during their exploration. When my friend asked where they visited our forgetful G said that they went to some dam park.

Living with G's family, I've come to understand something of Sophie's lifecycle. It consists of three main events that keep repeating themselves one after the other…

"I'm hungry"

"I'm tired"

"I'm sleepy"

Differences

Being in a new place has you more alert to the nuances that you would otherwise miss due to habit. It is almost as if you get a new pair of eyes to look at the good ol' world. And it has been great.

On the surface I saw differences. It was easier to spot the differences. Isn't that what we are trained to do? Spot the difference. Grade the attributes. And assign values to them.

But…

Beyond all the barriers, the great divides, the differences, the gaps,

Beneath the surfaces, the appearances,

There is a bridge

There is the depth

On the other side

In the deep

There is a person

Just like me

Unspoken

Unspoken desires

Unshed tears

Unheard words

Unfathomable depth

Infinite God

On riding with lizards and smiling at strangers

I was riding to work as usual this morning. And I was letting thoughts run through my head as well. And I was running a bit late as I was running my scooter after 4 long days of not riding it and letting it get wet in the rain. Hence, the starting trouble and stalling at the signal and all…

Anyways, that is not the point of my story. So, while I was riding my scooter and running a bit behind schedule, I had to stop at yet another signal when these two blokes on a bike rushed to the empty spot next to my bike and said, "There's a lizard on your helmet. Don't remove it fast. Unbuckle it slowly, and remove it gently." And I did. And they took the helmet from me and sort of jerked the lizard away! And it wasn't a small one.

While I am not afraid of lizard, I cannot say that they are on my 'favorite animals' list either. In fact, they take a place in my 'yucky creatures' list.

And I was amazed that this creature had to sit on my helmet riding with me, and from what one of the other guys at the signal said, it had been riding with me for about a kilometer or two! I clearly remembered my helmet sans the lizard when I wore it this morning. Anyways, the point of the story is kindness of strangers.

After all said and done, I definitely love my country. I love the people. While there are some jerks*, there are also some kind people. And it is easy to laugh, and share a moment of one's life with them, even if it is for just a brief while like waiting at the signal.

Yesterday, when I was taking a train to work, I was stuck without Rs. 4 in change. I had only a Rs. 20 currency note. The person at the ticket counter asked me to wait till someone gave change. While I was waiting, there was this lady that came by and asked me up to where I had to go. I told her and she bought me a ticket.

The train journey wasn't exactly what I would have preferred. Well, what can I expect if I were travelling the wrong direction at the wrong time? I understood the meaning of 'sardines in a tin.' But, it was amazing the camaraderie that emerged among people in that situation. In fact, another person that got out at the same station as I walked with me a bit and we were talking to each other till we had to part ways.

I did not exchange numbers with any of these people. I did not ask for any of their names (well, except for the person that walked with me). I don't think I will even remember their faces. But for a brief moment our lives intersected and we shared a smile.

* Subjects of entirely different posts...

Passion

What love is this

That it walked the path of suffering

Pain and humiliation

What love is this

That stayed on the Cross

And refused to come down

What love is this

That has adopted me

Unworthy as I am

What love is this

That grants me space to rest

In Your presence

What love is this

That did not stop at the Cross

But keeps on loving me

Every moment...

That thinks of me

Without cease...

Art

When I struggle with writing, the easiest way out I have found is to share something of what I am currently reading. There is this portion found in Doctor Zhivago (by Boris Pasternak) that really, really appealed to me. The author put in words what I knew in my heart. Oftentimes the material conceals the non-material and the material overshadows it. But it is the non-material which makes the material valuable. In this passage, what Pasternak calls 'art' is what I call the 'non-mateiral.'

"I have always thought that art is not a category, not a realm covering innumerable concepts and derivative phenomena, but that, on the contrary, it is something concentrated, strictly limited. It is a principle that is present in every work of art, a force applied to it and a truth worked out in it…

"A literary creation can appeal to us in all sorts of ways - by its theme, subject, situations, characters. But above all it appeals to us by the presence in it of art…

"…You can call it an idea, a statement about life, so all-embracing that it can't be split up into separate words; and if there is so much as a particle of it in any work that includes other things as well, it outweigh all the other ingredients in significance and turns out to be the essence, the heart and soul of the work." (Emphasis mine.)

While you all figure out this post, I will figure out my next post. :-)

The wheel

A feeling of being stuck

Caught in the rut

No escape

The wheel churning

Up

and down

and up

and down

Incessantly

Without pause

I want to break free

To where?

Another wheel?

a jagged circle

Circle is perfect. No beginning. No end. Complete…

Jagged edge is not. A number of beginnings and a number of ends. All abrupt. Rough. Incomplete. It is not perfect.

Jagged circle is the reality. Jagged circle is what is. Perfection and imperfection. Co-existing…

The jagged circle is I...

Psst... 'a jagged circle' is going to be the title of my new blog and this is the idea behind it. I'm still wondering what sort of blog that should be as i don't want to give up 'Life goes on' either...

and oh, it is my birthday today! :-)

and, this is my 100th post in this blog...