The space tube.

You enter the space tube, with nothing but your body that’s carrying a type machine. The space tube is white, wide, spacious, filled with other humanoid creatures. These other creatures, are all occupying random spaces, holding some artefacts, surrounded by a few as well. They may or may not use these artefacts. There are copious amounts of books all over this space tube. They are all systematically numbered, organised, on the bases of their names, the authors, the themes. Each and every humanoid here, is a pilot of this space tube. How far can this space tube go?

If you think about the surrounding noise, there’s none - only minor shuffling of books and feet rattling against the chairs or table legs. A few creatures seem to be wearing ear pods that probably help transport them to places beyond the scope of this space tube. Do these places remind them of the places they come from? Or does it ignite a hope in them, a confidence, to take them to where they much rather be?

The space tube is temperature controlled. The white lights on the ceiling ensure that work doesn’t stop. The humanoids here mostly resort to mental exercise, this is no space for the physical, unless one is working over reading or writing over that field of the human sciences.

A humanoid creature sitting right next to me wonders what I am writing about. I type away on my type machine. This is not what I came here for - I came for some reading, but this is what I am doing now nevertheless.

The challenge for me today, is to concentrate on the now. The past, I cannot change, the future, is yet to come. The now is all that I have, and all that I can control. I should control my now, my destiny is in my hands, quite literally. I will now proceed to my reading. My type machine has diverse functions and it can also help me in that purpose.

Silo.

Hello.

I guess, when you really want something, and when you literally give yourself up to the cause, there’s a huge scope of learning that opens up automatically, and you do eventually, move towards that which you expected.

It’s been a very long time since I jotted down something on this blog. Oh my, let me begin by saying, that I have absolutely missed writing on a keyboard. There is so much peace in writing down things in journals, but oh, the joy of slamming down fingers on a keyboard that makes the click click tik tak noise as I write away!

I’d still like to embrace the random, though, as I am growing up, I feel this hidden need to start, what people call, ‘specializing.’ A good friend gave me an advice once – “Do whatever it is that you like, eventually, you’ll really start understanding and start to automatically move towards things that truly call out to you.” Great advice. In fact, another fellow professional once mentioned, “Just, throw stones everywhere.” – And I’d like to add to that statement – “And see which ripple gives you the most peace!” My college professor stated, that “Seek anything that gives you a rush, or increases your pulse rate.”

Unfortunately, or fortunately, there is a certain knowledge gap that I aim to fill in before I can spot what it is that I absolutely would love to specialize in. The road towards it isn’t one that is already built. I have a stone and chisel in my own hands, and I am trying to squint towards the horizon, towards the top of mountains, as well as the depths of the oceans, before carving my own way through it. I say through and not towards it because the road could change at every possible moment and I’d like to keep myself open to that possibility too.

The problem that I have personally faced – is that of existentialism. I see the world as it is, in broad day light, or in absolute darkness. There is no denying that the human race confuses itself with the rat race, that there is always an underlying process of automation in the mechanics of the world, in all possible domains. Be it education, or industrialization, or the gradual growth in a country’s infrastructure.

A friend of mine is currently reading a book called, Ikigai. The book begins by a Japanese proverb that says: “Only an active life will make you want to live a 100 years.” The book also talks about how technology is actually, responsible in adding more time to one’s life. Man is generally, quite a lazy creature. I’d say, everything in the world is actually quite lazy. If that is in response to a need of attaining equilibrium, I wouldn’t know; one cannot deny the ever constant ebb and flow of chaos and order in the world. Is it all in process of attaining immortality? I’m sure our race is collectively building towards a highly connected space across this planet, just like a human brain would strengthen its connections across its neurons with time. All, for automation. All, for equilibrium. All, for immortality. The concept of the ouroboros comes into my mind... 

If anyone is reading this right now, and feels that they have an opinion regarding the above, please feel free to let me know, in the comments, or personally. I would love to have more discussions over the same. I am REALLY open to learning about anything that gives me direction at this point…

Till then, I guess, I’ve to start working over the SMART goals thing in order to give my random goals some finite shape… And yes, I have to certainly learn to prioritize as well as manage my time well.

Oh hi there, 2016!

Hello, new year!

Here I am, in this circus, still jumbling goals, trying to keep my life balanced, as the blog secretly creeps up to it's second leap year. It's been almost 4 years since I began jotting, uh, I mean, rambling on this blog, and it has certainly been a great journey.

Some days, I decide to go back to the past, read my old blog posts, so that I can indulge in the guilty pleasures of reminiscing. On other days, I manage to click on the post button, and ramble a bit more, setting my imagination free. This blog has almost been like an online diary for me, except for the fact that I haven't been brave enough to involve myself more, with sharing my personal stories.

Despite having a plethora of ideas to type down blog posts on, I've been lazy. If I'm not too harsh on myself, I can say that it's purely because of the final year college pressure. No. The fourth year of an engineering college is not difficult when it comes to academics, in fact, I've totally managed to perform better than my initial years as a college student. It's the other dreaded thing; The one that deals with me growing up and taking care of my responsibilities.

I, as a person, write because it helps me analyse myself better.
I have my personal diaries, filled with a lot of to do lists, and goals, but I feel my blog severely lacks those things that I feel I'm all about. Given. I'd write a poetry or two, in the rush of momentary inspiration. Given that I allow myself to type away whatever I feel about a current situation. I've hardly written anything about what I truly like. With that, I mean, my tangible hobbies, passions, and dreams. Metaphors have bought this blog far, and the occasional heartfelt poem will still carve its way through. but, I have decided, that this year, I shall talk more about what exactly it is, that I've been up to. I do like writing crisp and short articles on certain topics. I might write on a few that I believe might help others too. They will all be closely related to the whats, wheres, and whys, of my favorite things. Animals, music, computers, people, it can be anything.

Something brilliant that happened to me last year, was how clicking random links online, led to me discovering the amazing platform of IndiBlogger. It's a place were countless bloggers, from all over the world, India, especially, come together, in order to share their own blogs, thoughts, and ideas, with each other. If you're reading this, and would like to know more about how IB can change your journey of blogging, do post a comment below! I've made a few friends already, both offline, and online, all thanks to IB. I was never too vocal about my blog, before IndiBlogger, but now, I am nothing short of proud, that I was able to hold on to this tiny little blog that I created back in 2012.

Something that's totally going to give me an initial push to writing more posts and discovering myself online, is IB's new challenge, the IndiMarathon. Tata Motors has given the IB bloggers a wonderful opportunity, to blog about anything under the sun, equivalent to an online marathon. Starting from today, till mid February, I shall be posting a few articles, in correspondence to this interesting challenge. I'm quite excited to write more about certain things that I absolutely love! *Casually mumbles the lines of the song, "My favorite things!"*

Change is constant. Change is beautiful. With the advent of this new year, I hope to bring in all that I've learned, in newer ways, online. I believe if I involve myself more, online, in ways that are more communicative in nature, I will be able to give more to the community, and also learn more about so many things! I'm such a slow poke, I should've done this long back. Better late than never!

~

This blog post is inspired by the blogging marathon hosted on IndiBlogger for the launch of the #Fantastico Zica from Tata Motors. You can apply for a test drive of the hatchback Zica today.

Home.

I'm in space. Free floating. Your thoughts like stars are aligned in front of my eye sight. From where I am. My horizon. The end stretches into infinity, deeper, and deeper still. The sky isn't blue. I see no limit. But I'm at peace. This place, where I am. I'm my best self. And I am calm. This is home. You make me feel this good.

I'm water. I'm surrounded by water. I move with precision. I melt with ease. I mix with patience, with only the perfect ingredients. I'm steam. I'm ice. I'll burn your chills. I'll chill your burns. I feel strong. This place, where I am. I'm my best self. And I am calm. This is home. You make me feel this good.

I'm trying. I try, not because I have to. But because I must. Because I know this is right. This is my passion. I was born to be this. And I will make it right. I could run and run, run for miles and be dissolved. But I can't be someone lesser than me. I need to be here. This place. I'm fighting for it. I'm trying. This is my best self. I am calm. Why wouldn't I be? This is home. You make me feel this good.

You look wonderful tonight. I see you through and through. Match your hands with my palm. Let our fingers align. I know your secrets. You wished you knew mine. I have none. I promise. This place. Where I'm at. I'm my best self. And I'm calm. This is home. You make me feel this good.

I never knew I could be this selfish. But being selfish feels good. You permit me to. Pull me by my soul, and hold on to my skin. My flesh shall react. The organs will move. Blood and bones. They move in symphony. My breath is the question to all your answers. I'll speak answers to all your questions. This place, where I'm at. I'm my best self. And I'm calm. This is home. You make me feel this good.

Strained tunes.

Playing the guitar is fun. It's seldom a hobby for someone who loves the instrument, I'm sure they'd consider it a passion instead. I think it's one of the most beautiful instrument ever. You can create your own song, and give your voice it's own background music.

I think I get way too depressed when I play the guitar sometimes.
I find a strange metaphor associated with it.
The fact that I'm trying to sing, wanting someone to hear me out, in a controlled way, so as to make the song seem nice, feels fake.

I'd much rather play off tune, so long as I like what I've got to say. If that's all what I want to say. Does it have to sound good?

I think it does. I think polishing your skills, voice, communication, everything, it's important. But it feels kind of wrong, and terrible. Of how my broken ways, song, or tune, won't be accepted. I'd still try to play the song properly, that's the only choice I have.

It'd be so much better if I'd accept the way I am, and be proud of what I'm learning, and the good ways in which I'm changing.

Things seem so confusing at times. I honestly can't make sense of whatever it is that is happening. I'd try and play more, but I'd feel so lost. Can't be better unless I'm calm while practising, can I?
Still hope to get better though. But I think it should be only for myself.

Be a better person, sing a better song, so that I personally, can be proud of myself. Yes. I guess I'd be driven forth without much depression if I keep that in mind. I'd enjoy the music more that way.

Something way too powerful at work here.

So, all my life, I’ve had these tiny theories of mine that I’ve developed. Theories that try too hard to make sense of basic questions that begins with what, how, why, etc. I guess everyone has a few of them, questions and theories we abide by.
And it’s all natural for us to grow onto them, and also, allowing those theories to grow up as well, like a tree, free to move up towards the light, or far beneath the soil, in all possible directions, twirling, unrolling, realising.

The point is, I really feel tired of this, these days. Tired of developing theories. Sometimes, I have a feeling, that there’s just something much more powerful at work here. That despite me formulating my stupid theories, this powerful work, that goes about unseen, works its own charm, revealing a world that’s perfectly balanced, but also, incredibly dark and beautiful.

What’s the point of trying to understand something that I’m much too small to comprehend?
Things keep getting weirder by the second. I might be losing onto my childlike innocence, but I’d struggle to be the kid that I am, deep inside, inquisitive, and curious. Growing up, things seem much more complicated now. And they are just getting more and more complicated. 

I wonder if I should try to make sense of all of this, or just simply, let go, and enjoy everything that ever is. It’s really beautiful. All of this.

Biblical - Biffy Clyro
Skylight - Biffy Clyro
Stars And Shites - Biffy Clyro
Many Off Horror - Biffy Clyro
No I’m Not Down - Biffy Clyro

Abstract plans.

I really don't know why I'm not wanting to have a fixed story anymore. Thing's are getting all abstract around me. And I don't mind it. Maybe I'm already looking forward to the December holidays. The fact that I'm writing again though, it's reaffirming. So what if it's not in a hand held journal.

There are many things to say, sing, listen to, to try and understand, to be happy about, to be thankful about, to be stressed about, to be worried about, to not be worried about, there's just too much to exist. So letting it all just be seems like an easy option. I wonder if this easy way out is the right thing to do though. What if I, just push myself slightly? Forward to the things that I could do or achieve, or think that might work? Little concepts that keep popping up in my mind. Maybe I'd be able to help others with it all? And idea is good, an idea could be great, but it's of absolutely no use if it is born, and it dies, having accomplished absolutely nothing. Ideas do take work.

Perhaps that's why I wait for December. Because I'd be able to make things again. Build things again. Including myself! Oh. Just realised that the last December had been pretty sweet as well. Quite a turning point in my life. And it did take a certain amount of handwork, and a lot of brainstorming. I like the way I talk logically sometimes. It almost frightens me. Engineering ain't too bad. Fuck the ones who're trying to scare you away. Engineering is a need.

There's a picture in my head. I want the best for it, and I shall work to make it happen. Sometimes, all you have to do, is just, give yourself a push, and hope for the best. You're good enough. Chances are that you'll be rewarded with something you were expecting, but maybe, something better as well. I can hope for myself, at least.

Tests torment me. Exams are condescending. But I'll have to work hard. And around these days of trouble, there would be happy days. Days I look forward to. And come December, I'll be free to rethink over my wishes and dreams. Like how a little part of me would still want to excel at playing the guitar. Just a little bit please. Or how I'd like to play the drums. Or how I'd love to begin swimming again. Comic con's almost here too.

More movies. TV shows. Gigs.
And countless opportunities to just, escape.


Hey You - Pink Floyd
Is There Anybody Out There - Pink Floyd
Comfortably Numb - Pink Floyd
Stairway to Heaven - Led Zeppelin 

Wasting My Young Years.

Writing has always been a passion.
I lack the good words, the big words.
I am what I write. Simple words, not too hard to comprehend.
I love life. And I love how perfectly imperfect things are.
Does it make me weak? I wonder. For finding all the broken pieces just, perfect. Just the way they are.
I think we're all like this.

I really enjoying crying. I think, there's something extremely beautiful when one allows the tears to just, run free, with no barriers. I'm very optimistic, don't get me wrong. Pessimism is not my thing. But being sad, that makes me happy sometimes. Makes me appreciate life more. I can never truly be sad. I guess, life's too beautiful to be wasted with regrets.

Wish I could sing on highest peak of the world. I think I can do that. I'd like that.
Wish I could build my own mini rocket and fly up in space. Then attempt a free fall up against gravity.
Wish I could start from the scratch.
Wish life would start from the scratch so that I'd treat it differently.
Wish I could stitch all that was torn. And repair.
Wish I could be a little bit stronger for others. Empathy is useless.

But why would I care? I'm in love with imperfection, I suppose.


Secret - Maroon 5.
Hey Now - London Grammar.
Wasting My Young Years - London Grammar.

We could be heroes, just for one day.

And that day would be enough!

Warning: This post is not going to make much sense.

So. If you're reading this, which I doubt, because no one probably reads this shit up, well, but except you, since you ARE reading this, you better stop reading this, because it's not going to make much sense.

Scream!

A little lemon fell of the kitchen counter onto the ground, rolling, before softly stopping near my dogs paw. 

LO!

And behold. Lets just follow this never ending river. She isn't crazy. I like watching a piece of chocolate melt. It gets tastier by the second. Come on Eileen!

Fellows and Romans and people of good folklore, tell me a secret, won't you?

Apple pies must be delicious. Would you like one? "And let there be light," God said. Psalm 12:34, whatever *insert name* Repeat after me: "Shall not ever grieve over the lost puppy".

My diary is far away, this shit've would gone there, I believe. Typing is fun though.

STOP.

Breath.

And this idiot of a person just had to dive into the well of empty traffic and electricity bills.

Cows are to be disliked for the go MOOO which is mostly irritating. Don't even try to be nice. Hypocrites. 

*****

A little while later

*****

NOPE

 Still 

a     twat. Hypocrisy!

Not really insane but on cloud nine. Let's take a moment and be glad that we are smart enough to comprehend what goes around in this town. You just lied. "I didn't, I kept quiet."

"That's gonna cost ya, sweety."

"If you think I'm being stupid, well I'm still me", cried the little red riding hood before turning into a wolf and eating up her own grandma. Yeah, things are getting stranger by the second.

Give yourself a break, mate! You sure do need one. Lollipops were always bad for your teeth.

My tongue is in love with my left elbow. Such a sad love story. Commas will guide you home.

There was once a crooked man, with a crooked little organ, in a crooked little video, and he was soon forgotten. 

Man, I wish she was a cat. But I would never do such a thing to her, she's such a great girl. I think she must really like me, hens would love laying easter eggs. I'm such a weird potato. 

A little ash, smokey, and a minty taste later, she allowed herself to cough. Well shit. Where's that lighter? A pastry would've helped but the owl was hooting too loudly. Was he looking for his mate? Poor sod.

Bubble baths were sad, because people didn't respect him anymore. "That's the way the market works", shrugs bubble bath, "It's always what they really want. Priorities."

I'll be damned if you figured me out. Don't bother. I'm just like you. I can see you. Just as you see me. A layer, within a layer, within another one, that's the one on the top. We're the same. Still reading?

Well, great. Thanks.


Heroes - David Bowie.

The biggest lie ever.

This thought occurred to me recently. A simple thought. Not sure what inspired me to think in this direction.

Perhaps it was a series of unfortunate events.

People don't trust people. Not always. Most of us would like to believe that we are on our own in this big dark world. But that's far from the truth. Or at least, I hope everyone start's to believe that.

I believe everyone's like a deep well of thoughtfulness, brimming with love to give, memories to share. It's a beautiful world, and everyone's just so very insecure about who accepts them the way they are.

It's so very easy to judge sometimes, isn't it? One should try not to make quick judgements about someone's personality and create a deep rooted opinion, before even speaking to them. And one shouldn't judge them once they've opened up either. Try and understand, always.

The biggest lie ever, is one that we would love to believe. Because we see it happening around us. All the time. We doubt ourselves, look up to the only people we believe are probably correct about such things. Our parents, or someone close. Chances are, that they'll tell us this, this statement, that we take too seriously.

It's, "Don't trust anybody. You're on your own."

This is wrong. Trusting is a very important factor for growth. A leap of faith, knowing your friends would be there to catch you. The larger the group with understanding people, the better. Two is better than one. Four, even more.

It's true that someone might be untrustworthy, especially given the fact that lying is probably their favourite hobby. But what if we just try and understand? Perhaps the person wants to be accepted. Life must be difficult for them, oh yes.

There are different kinds of people. In all possible shapes, sizes, colour, emotions, personality, everything, everywhere, wherever. Sometimes, they are extremely raw, the kind I like. They're fresh, new, vulnerable, fearless of baring their emotions, and most of all, quite intelligent. Sometimes, they're completely opposite. They tend to lack sheer creativity. They get repetitive, tired, probably happy in their innocence. But all in all, we're humans, the very same. Homo-sapiens that walk this planet in search of answers and whatever that is the ultimate.

It's easy getting hurt if we trust the wrong people, and at that point of time, we must remain vary of the truth. Be objective. Stop at our steps and retreat. But what if it's the right person? You could grow with this person, into something you'd probably never dream of being able to do all alone. More the number of people who trust another, more the chances that we'd end up trusting someone trustworthy.

We aren't on our own. We travel alone. That's all. But befriending strangers for a couple of minutes, finding a companion that would last you a couple of weeks into the journey, or perhaps your lifetime, it's all part of the long road.

For the day dreamers.

Stars.
Listen.
Boxes.

Come summer time, the days will be longer.
I'm glad, I guess, it'll give me more time to spend day dreaming.
I'm not sure if it's a wrong habit, but yes, it certainly isn't a crime.

I love day dreaming.

Penguins.
Love.
Iktara.

I waste time, day dreaming. I wonder if that's okay. Productivity takes the back seat. But I'm tempted. Always tempted. To think of certain things, time and again. Again. And all over. Repeat.

Bags.
Beards.
Bow ties.

I've started day dreaming a lot lately. And I'm sure it's doing me no good. But I can't resist. And I won't feel too bad about it. My false dreams, some real, are what make me anyway.

Feathers.
Dream catchers.
QuizUp.

And then, during the night time. I'm wide awake as an owl. And yet, my mind wanders off into an infinite abyss of completely random things.

There is no such thing as random.
It's all, structured, chaos.

I'm day dreaming right now.

I am not day dreaming right now.
No, not really.

Wait.
WHAT?

To reach out, I reach within.

If words are the assets of a free mind, why is it that we often find ourselves trapped within the boundaries they offer? In an earlier post, I had spoken about how much one should appreciate silence, and agreed, nothing would probably describe anything better than complete silence, and a quiet moment of understanding. Yet, this silence, seems too difficult to adjust to. The basic desire of a human is to communicate. To listen, hear, speak, and share. But do we really need to define everything?

Imagine a house on a far away land. A place that touches the skies, reaching out to the clouds. Lush green grass all around. A cool, gentle breeze surrounding the tiny cottage, with the hum of a local brook meandering nearby.

I'm not very good with imagery. My literature isn't as great as many people whom I know of. But my views, they are precious to me. The only support that I could hold onto if everything else seems to haze away. This is why I fear criticism. If I am capable of adjusting with any sort of a view that might come across me, I really hope, that people accept, even if they don't agree - to whatever I believe in.

I just long for my imaginations to become a reality. If only one could share the marvels that one thinks of, with others, in the exact same way they seem to reach into the empty voids of ones mind, filling them up with colours the the true eye could never visualise.

Back to the cottage. That place would be perfect. A moment  frozen in time, for eternity. I didn't choose a beach, an island, or another fancy place. This little cottage, atop a silent hill, some how captured my mind.

Now imagine yourself living in such a place. Alone. Not a single person with whom you could share your words, or your silence. Somehow, this forces me to believe that, the one thing, more important, than even sharing your views, is the mere company of another living being. 

But I savour solitude. The sly single digit upon that clock mocks me. It's way past midnight, and I have only solitude as my company right now. I cherish it. It's one of those few things I appreciate in life. Some time reserved for me and me only. Where I can lock myself away from the world and pen down my feelings unafraid of any sort of criticism.

The words trapped in me, often scream. Perhaps everyone feels so. I don't run away from my own thoughts though. I see to it, that they meet what they seek. But I wonder, if the only way to do so, is by surrounding myself with the people I care about. Words fail when ideals differ. Silence fails when the understanding is low. Perhaps laughter, happiness, or even sadness, binds us all. 

There is no place for masks. But they inevitably reach out, covering my face when I'm afraid to hurt anybody, or to show someone that I've been hurt. As long as it doesn't harm anyone though, they should be fine. Perhaps giving, without hoping to get anything in return is the only way by which one can live in the world outside. 

That world outside, it doesn't make sense to me. Broken people, breaking others, and them breaking others, and so forth. I remember the time I was plainly shocked by an act of a close friend. A sinful act, for that time I was a child. "Why would anyone want to be the bad guy?" I remember, asking another friend. 

With time, I learned that both the bad, and the good were... Almost the same. The one's screaming about the goodness, made the bad visible. All this, was just, a game of words. Word play, as one might call it.

That cottage on that hill? It's still there. It's quiet and, one could get all the solitude he or she ever desired while living there. Even though an optimist, the reality of this world saddens me. I may appreciate the good - the bad - both, as equal necessities required for this world to flow forward, but nevertheless, the sight of any helpless person discourages me. 

Illness. Old age. Death. Misundestandings. Fights. Hunger. Disease. Does this world really need them? It doesn't. And me, I'm heartless. Looking at it all as if it were all science. Trying not to concern myself. Trying to understand relations as if they were some sort of a mathematical equation. I think far too much to do me any good. But as I fear, I think far too much, for me to be able to do any good to this world.

I'm tired of trying to figuring things out - for now. Thoughts not acted upon are meaningless. Aren't they? If lost, never to be found again.

I don't want to support the good, or the bad, or anything for that matter. I just want people to realise, that they are alive. They have a heart, heartbeats, and for as long as they can breath, nothing can really harm them. 

Oh how I wish to tell them all about how easy this life really is. But explaining it is such a task! Pretty sure most don't even want me to hear me out. And no, I would't want to be a burden. Who would want to be one? My words fail. My silence fails. And I seek solitude again. A place somewhere, in my mind, on that cottage, with the cool breeze that would speak to me, understanding me completely. Perfectly. And I shall write, finally, allowing my views to take control, and not fear.

Write, and erase.

I begin to write, when I don't know what to write.

I
I write
I write to
I write to think
I write to think and
I write to think and question
I write to think and question what
I write to think and question what I
I write to think and question what I could
I write to think and question what I could write
I write to think and question what I could write.
And this leaves me confused, and I erase.
And this leaves me confused, and I
And this leaves me confused, and
And this leaves me confused,
And this leaves me confused
And this leaves me
And this leaves
And this
And

And then I erase the written, erasing my confusion.