A Cautionary Note out of a precocious mind :)

A blog post could be a slice of life, but mine are usually a slice of my mind. What I write may not have anything to do with what happens in our day to day life. Its like “Inception”, there’s this intriguing restiveness, something begging to be explored, Its like a whiff of air when you are fast asleep….the only evidence it leaves is your otherwise well parted hair, right on your forehead when you get up..it has the strength not to let nightmarish dreams mar the night! Its elusive but you feel it, and you want it more!
It never becomes a habit, and not a ‘bad’ habit…because habit takes time, specially the bad ones…they make your conscience undergo a lot of tribulations, and they finally make a vehement refusal to be denied a space in your mind, and they beautifully never corrode your soul beyond repentance.
Life is not always a rigmarole, no roller coaster ride….it could be a plain ride changing a few local trains traversing your life’s distance in a jiffy, with more tag-along passengers…always mobile with the stations being the only stationary and tangible posts to rest, and guess what, 10 seconds at one station!
You may have a tough time reading, but few ideas can’t be tied down in literature, though surely remaining within realms of the literates! Like insouciance of a blogger is not the same as free expression of a writer. Like good communication does not mean good English, If the world doesn’t come to know, doesn’t mean you are not doing it, whatever it is! And being tangential and not run of the mill, doesn’t mean being negative….My words are too meek to be an uproar, not even a rebellion, no matter how intentless! It’s all in the air, not even indicative, leave alone conclusive. Like us, I get equally embarrassed raising my voice when being injected a tetanus. So, ‘life’ will seldom be blogged about, it’ll be the mind blogging the mind boggling! There’s more coming! Turn the page…

Somethings...

No one cares for the monotony of typing through a word document, solving a ‘tough’ rated Sudoku puzzle is your only achievement in the last few years, the tubelights being blasphemous to the darkness you revere, the staircases only lead to the dinner table, and you need a jacket to save you from the summer heat. A blooming flower ends up being cabbage, when the ruptured amygdala blacklists all emotions. Wishing to collide, you collapse. Trained but not educated, spectacles cant become eyes, tensions strong enough to recede the hairline, all research and surveys correlate the unrelated. When cats and dogs signify romance, life being a characteristic odour failing the best and branded room fresheners. A wish to make water tasty, moral uprightness indicated by the photos of swamis on the cupboard. A portrait laughing at your drawing skills, and the cars only offer the back seat. When you are bad at golf without playing it ever, and the bulb brightens the darkness of the mole, a pen is the straightest thing you can think of, palm’s grip tested by a water bottle, transparent curtains too represent privacy. Dinner plates as Frisbees are a true test of catching skills, all balms cry for an ache and all toy marriages are everlasting, the best you use your hands is while opening the door, the last time you saw your own blood when you killed a mosquito. Not seeing the rainbow could be colour blindness, all whiteness is only a talcum powder. You wait for your moustache to grey to get matured, and health is not a measure of strength, good denture mistaken for a good smile and the chiseled jawline attributed to a road accident. A colourful blanket makes you a colourful person, a refusal to listen the heard, ceiling fans are a measure of height, you scratch your nails never to win a prize and a blank list of ‘things to do before you die’ , your secret sadness seizing your optimism.
A cataclysmic rotten conscience externalizing all the anguish, causing the violence outwards and the damage inwards.

Ruminations of an Indian Idle mind!

Sometimes I find even Fat boy slim songs soul-stirring. I do not know where I am heading to, what I want from life. Just few songs here and there, a night spent staring at the ceiling admiring the carvings and the artistic taste of people in Rohtak, buying Rohtak made swiss chocolates for my cousin’s son and ending up finishing one packet all by myself…..a bunch of more tired souls all around….I go to office and then I think…no I don’t think, I just keep myself occupied, smiling faces around…people doing what they are best at and enjoying…people talking about so many things and how to make a crore by the time you are 40…and then I doing my calculations and coming down to my 2010-11 CTC and being happy about it….speaking to people in bombay who make their own work and feel their own time…..as I come back to the hum of my ac with a gunjee on….things change and I start writing…just about trying to……Farmville is over…people putting random status messages on FB, some more people finding further more time to comment on them..somebody asking me why haven’t you changed your photo on orkut, its been there since a long time..and I ask myself why did I put a photo at the first place…its an art to keep writing without thinking much…and I fail at it miserably…just writing what comes to mind on a Monday night with few people incessantly pinging on gtalk….time to have a chat with them…I don’t know why I do it, but the fact is I do it….