Adios

Its been great blogging for the past three months. During this period, I have managed to convince several people (including me) that I need professional help. Its time to say goodbye to all the insane articles I have been posting. NIMHANS has offered me a free course in 'Culture and Madness' which I have decided to accept. Thank you all for visiting this page regularly and making my day. Goodbye and good luck.

Inexplicable

There are certain things I cannot explain. And a few more things I dont want an explaination for. More often that not, I find myself stuck in between the two. I'm tired of searching for questions I cannot answer. I'm tired of searching for answers I cannot question. If only I had time on my side. I've screwed around and fooled time a lot, and lost precious battles in the process. I continue fighting, and I continue losing. I dont believe in choices anymore. The obvious one is always picked and presented to me. And I blindly take it. Dont ask me why. Dont ask me how. I always thought the right choice was picked. And I always thought I made sense. But when I interact with people other than myself, these choices dont make sense. And neither do those choices I hadnt made. What did I do wrong? Why is it so difficult for people to understand me, understand what I want, understand who I am. I know things change, people change. Why cant choices? I have no right to seek an answer for a question I cannot explain. Sometimes I wonder if I made a mistake, sometimes I wonder if it was okay to have made that mistake. But then I think, if mistakes were not to be made, why would they have erasers on the back of pencils?

Peace

'Haud saar, yaw seat beku?', said the ticket booking dude. Yes! I was going home. That is the best answer you can expect for 'Mangloorige ticket idiya?' asked in broken kannada. 320 bucks, but still. I could smell Mangalore. I was coming back. The happiness made me realise how much I hated Bangalore.

'Whaaaaat? You hate bangalore?' is the usual reaction. 'Bangalore is sooooo coool, soooo happening, there's sooo much to do'. I ask 'I want two minutes of silence and peace of mind, where do you suggest I go?'.

No answer. I wait. Two more seconds. I'm still waiting. One more minute. Silence.

I've won again.

I'll tell you why Bangalore sucks. There's nothing to do there unless all you want to do is consume litres of ethanol. Or elevate yourself on some psychotropic substance and hang out like weirdos in malls discussing the butterfly effect. Too much pollution, you get a natural one inch dirt make up two minutes into the open. And then comes the traffic. Amazing. Five lanes of traffic on two lanes of road. I pity the poor cyclists.

All said and done, I have to go back to that place in three days. In the meantime, I'm breathing as much oxygen as I can.

Music

Phase 1: Devotional
Age: 0 - 8

My grandpa was a very religious person. And he made me listen to all kinds of devotional songs. I dont remember much, but sometime around the age of 7, chitrahaar opened the gates to hindi music.

Phase 2: Hindi
Age: 8 - 14

Hindi music rocked my world for 7 long years. Every wednesday at 8, I was glued to the tv set watching Amitabh Bacchan beat the shit outta bad dudes and ShahRukh Khan lust after women. I must admit there were a few good movies I wished I acted in. Like Khoon Ki Pyaasi and Bhago Bhoot Aaya. That was when i realised the importance of clevage in a B-grade movie.

Phase 3: Boy bands and big breasted women who couldn't sing
Age: 14 - 15.5

The 'I wanna be cool' phase had hit. Boyzone, Backstreet Boys, MLTR, Britney Spears took over my music tastes. I wanted it that way :) . I would have definitely formed a band if I could've played atleast one musical instrument other than the tape player.

Phase 4: Rock and its types.
Age: 15.5 - 23

I was fooling around in my uncle's cupboard when I found a cassette with 'Metallica' written on it. Less than a few seconds into the tape, nothing else mattered. I had found God. Experimented with the likes of Maiden, Sabbath, Doors, Hendrix, Led Zep, Floyd, Eagles, Queen, and on and on. By the time I was 22, I was out of college and I was looking out for something new.

Phase 5: World and Lounge
Age: 23 - to date

I work now. When I go back home, 'Back off bitch' isnt exactly the song I would wanna listen to. Now, anything that soothes my nerves and puts me at peace works. Lounge rocks.

Speechless

Water in a limca bottle

'If you regret having done something, time will always heal it. But if you regret not having done something, dont look at time for help. You're screwed.'

I have never been able to understand the things I tell people. When I think about it later, it doesn't make sense to me. I'm a disgrace to the scorpion sunsign; I don't let people know what I feel about them. Someone pisses me off, and silence takes over me. And then I start plotting. The whole sequence of get pissed off -> plot -> execute plan can extend over a period of 4-6 months.

I have unknowingly been mean to this real close friend of mine. I know 'unknowingly' is not an excuse, but it happened and I still wonder what made me do that. Whats more painful is that, inspite of me being 'me', she's still there for me when I need her the most. It is impossible for me to go back in time and change things, hence I regret.

I'm sorry for what I did, bitch.

Random Thoughts

Money. Happiness. Tons of Shit.

'Why dont you do your masters?', she asked. Polite. Sweet. Happy. That's Mom. 'Everyone's doing it', he said. Cool. Loved. Admired. That's Dad.

My brain formulated a quick 'infinite for' loop to repeat my parents words throughout the day.

Damn.

Here I am. 23 years old. Working for my second firm.

Quit the first one. Among the world's top 3 IT services companies.
Working for the second. The world's leader in enterprise planning.

Fuck.

I am earning tons of money. I have saved a lot. Happiness?
MS. MBA. Happiness?

Crap load of shit.

The 'for' loop's still running.

Start...Testing One Two Three

Clear. Post. Useless.

Why am I doing this? Why am I playing with words I dont even know? Why am I hiding? Am I posting stuff here just 'cos I'm afraid to talk about it in public? Friends. Nothing. Clear. Silent.

Shit. More Shit.

Why am I unabashed at the extravagant praise? I quit long back. What? Happiness? Love?

What do I want to do? Nice thought. Scary. Weird. Creepy. Inexplicable.

Optimism is overrated. So is sex. But I like sex.

Existance. Silence. I don't do drugs. So why do I sound like this?