And the World Begins, again!

The old man stood in front of me and told me college is not good for such minds as mine. Another bearded old man said college is going to be a compulsory part of my life, inevitable and necessary. I chose to listen to the bearded man, as I have for the past 19 years and I needn't change that now. 

Fourth Semester paints a new red mark on the college board, and quietly managed to enlighten me about the process. As an institution, anything from family to college could get dysfunctional at all points of time. But, one has to surely understand, at least after an age, that they are an equal functional unit responsible for the balance of the institutional processes. Imagine an ecosystem, and draw an intricate web of the all the species, then you will know every system is purely the same. Every unit is functional and responsible, though some may be replaceable. 

Here is why I have suddenly found some interest in writing proactively about college. This is because, this semester is filled with two of my favourite words in English language: diverse and random. History of India - III (Freedom Movement: 1758 to 1947) has a brilliant Professor handling the paper. First of all, one of the few Professors with a great command over English, moreover, he is a person who demands you to read and work. He walked into our class on the first day and has been delivering wonderful lectures on Periodization of History and Developing Trends in India during the 18th Century. This is why I am in college. 

Introduction to Archaeology and Museology is good fun, because I never really expected to be learning this. A nice professor, and new things to learn. This is quite exciting to look forward to. And then, I continue with Elements of Sociology, and I quite enjoy writing that paper. For one, I score well, and two, it has some interesting reading material to go with the topics. 

Now, probably, the best of all, and a paper I never expected to be studying is Music and Literature. It has been great fun sitting in that room that smells like a studio (which always proves to be nostalgic and pleasant). Studying Musicology is really good fun, and he relates it to English and Tamil literature. Today, he was talking to us about Music as an Art form, and then as a temporal Art form. This course really inspires me to put on the sruthi box and practice in the evenings. He concluded by saying that Sound and Time are the two bodily elements of Music, that define and create it. 

The only sad news, I am yet to get over, is that this is the last semester of General English. I really love studying English Litt and there goes my last chance of doing it in college. It has been good so far, and I only hope this is one of the best semesters in that regard. The Merchant of Venice and a Nick Adams story, are some of the things I am really looking forward to delving my head in. However, we've also made some changes in class patterns and I might end up doing a lot of Tamil translation this semester. 

Side by side, Chai Kadai is going really great for me. I have found some brilliant people to write for it and if you are reading this, and have a story for it, please do email it to us at chaikadai@gmail.com True, true, I am putting out the Chai Kadai label wherever I can, and I have figured that is probably the best way to get people to speak: Tell them, they can! 

Otherwise, I have been experimenting with a little bit of writing here and there. I hope to finish NanoWriMo somehow. As usual, I have an assignment in head and that is why a blog post is flowing so easily. I have refilled my Rotring pen and hope to see some of the ink flowing on to paper somehow. I am no longer interested in creating art as such, I am only interested in creating myself and for that I am going to let a lot of things flow. 

Academically, this Semester sees a small bit of pride for me in the hidden pockets. My French teacher called some of us and told us there are some students in Sacred Hearts Matriculation, Shozhinganallur, who need French classes. She thinks, we will be able to handle it. I will be going over there, tomorrow. Let's see how that goes. 

Overall, a good set of months that have started well. I hope to save up a bit and travel this December. Whatever works and whatever doesn't, this year I am going to have my best Christmas and New Year, for I've been deserving one for a very long time. 

Goo goo night ! :)

buddha feared death

I live in a comfort zone. Every pilgrim first lives in a comfort zone, and then one moves away, because of fear, guilt, confusion and whole baggage of negativity. Enlightenment is the positive acceptance of negativity. However, even I have the strong need to overcome the fear of death, but the motive is not one of immortality. It simply a coverage for another fear. By overcoming the fear of my death, I deal with happy acceptance of the time and reason, but here I hide to myself and rejoice loudly in the fact that I do not have to watch the death of others as an immortal. Because I fear immortality more than my death, and want to prevent watching the disappearance of those I know. Even the thought of their demise makes me shiver like I've been buried in a fresh avalanche.

12.55 a.m. on a random day, October 2008

The life of mysteries and the answers it hides in a basket of all-nighers:

It is two hours past midnight and I am no where close to "done" with these assignments. In four hours I have to wrap all this up and get ready for that new day, and nowadays because of the closed window next to my seat in the bus and the headset that booms the radio into my ears I feel insanely sane. Happy and calm. I am watching Alex and Emma on Zee Studio and I amd esperately trying to understand what this midnight means. I am out of my harem pants that were getting too tight around the ankles and have slipped myself into a beautiful pink tie-and-dye sarong. This was initially stitched to be my sister's blanket, but ended up being a multi-role playing beautiful piece of cloth. Everything keeps changing! Somehow, in this strange hour as these thoughts keep running through my head I feel this in-depth feeling to be honest with one and all. The goal of life here is not salvation, but to attain a simplicity in handling the day-to-day life and the days to come. So, the truth... My therapist (hmm...I don't know if I can call him that. I went to his center for three days, got diagnosed and well that's it) called me yesterday. He let me know that taking medication is a very important part of dealing with illness and health. This has been a debate of science and medicine in general. When did this whole trend of psychiatric medication crop up? What about Einstein? Are you going to start calling him a lunatic too? I know, I know..he is not calling me a lunatic, neither am I calling myself one. No one is a lunatic, everyone ends up having a history and a reason to do something, which might be treacherous or wonderful. It is in the talent of the individual to understand what is going on. Yes..yes..what about these people simply out of their minds..like probably, Hitler. Here is my point. As long as I am not harming anyone and I am not harming myself, everything is fine. It is this definition of normalcy that really deserves a debate. For one I do not understand the word. In which culture, in which history, is what normal? I do not condemn psychotherapy itself. If so, I would not be reading hell of a lot of psychology text books and books by psychotherapists. Believe me, for one, I would not speak about something I do not like knowing about. In that sense, the visit to the therapist, and knowing what the dance of my neurotic chemicals could be classified into, is a boon, because it is a just step closer to understanding psychology and psycho-therapy as a whole. So, it has been fun so far. Yes..that too. The crying has happened, but so has the laughing about the situation. It's a realisation process that is happening here. I am talking to myself and making myself write this on a public forum. Ever since I got to know what my "psychological" condition could be, I have had many questions about what I should do with myself, but I just realised that there are so many people out there with similar mood cycles and...(wait Alex and Emma just kissed. Where is this movie going? Why do I like it so much?)..distractions, and well..."disorders". And they don't even know it. Come on and they are living extremely "normal" lives. And here I seem to have understood what this whole "normal" concept means. They are living "their" lives, free from some kind of tabulation and labelling. What difference is that I know it? I know it and that's all. It's like what life has in store of you, at least a part of it. I feel happy and calm. This is the best midnight and al-nighter ever. Things love to change! Back to work. Goodnight.

Some Corny Diary Piece

I am STUBBORN. There have been a 100 times in my life when I’ve started writing wanting the best story to turn out of it. I keep hearing it being read in another’s voice; the glamour, the fluidity and the lucid body of that voice. It feels succulent in my palms, because in that voice I feel and hear the path I shall lead. As a writer I have been born here as a slave – the freest slave the world has ever created. In my stubborn existence, all I have ever wanted is a struggle; a struggle different from my parents. I travel on these buses – yellow, blue, and green. I think till my brain, those convolutions Shantanu always referred to, burns. No wonder every love of my life finds out one interesting thing in me – You think too much! But somehow in this much thought-out existence, I have constantly missed two things. Those two things that just held in their tiny hands a massive key that has opened the door to the most beautiful black hole one could have ever heard of. One, I am struggling now. All this while I have fooled myself to believe is that I have been waiting for my struggle. “I am in a waiting phase.” No Sam, snap out of it, now! It’s a struggling phase. Your struggle is not to run away from your parents, but to turn around and learn to live with them. That is your only way to be yourself. These are the loins, hearts, and sweat you sprang from. Whatever you create, they have the credit too. Give it to them. It is not straining oneself to be different that works, but it is the point of brewing and realizing that we are essentially different. You are their lucid and succulent voice. And what you may create might be for such a voice. But, two, understand it is yet again your voice that has to speak it first. It is fun to release your stagnation and understand that the river will flow, but will stay in a place when you dam it.

Written on 24.09.2008

Windows

an old speech (and some comments) I had to make in School. I was quite happy to find this. Written on 5.12.2004. Forgive the standard of English in places. I did not want to edit.

Good morning! For today, I was asked to speak about windows. While preparing I looked up a lot of books on the architectures of arches, wooden joints, window frames, and so on. Then, one of my teachers came along and gave me a book of zen quotes. Hereby, I will be referring to symbolic windows; those that our minds possess. Not to worry, they are very similar to our house windows and that easy to understand. But think about closing all these windows and sitting inside. The house will become claustrophobic. Now, understand the mind as house, a home that harbours thoughts, feelings, opinions, contemplations, criticisms, emotions and views. Close these windows! Imagine never letting anyone of these getting a breath of fresh air: the company of expression. We're left with suffocated minds. Heads that hurt, and lives that are entwined. Very early in our life, we learn hard to put bolts on these windows when confronted by certain concepts. Let it be politics, friendship, sex, or even music, dance and paint. Then, we keep strengthening these bolts keeping an eye all the excuses that make this right. We refuse to speak to people darker than us. We refuse to speak to people shorter than us. We refuse to listen to people who speak too slow. We refuse to look at people with short hair. However, one has to realize that we are social beings and we have to keep 'interaction' and 'expression' an alive part of our lives. We have to break down these bolts. It is a personal effort. We need to ventilate our minds. We need to use the windows. A person who is 'open' will be able to receive and therefore give better. (And I actually said: to make sure nothing too terrible happens in this vulnerable position we could fit mosquito nets). Windows are basically frames through which one can look. These windows are special. Though open enabling us to look out, it has a reflective quality attached to it. It looks back into the self. Life is a changing path. Both mistakes and successes have to be taken at stride, with openness. If we are insecure, it is because we have suffocated ourself. We need space to think. We need to open this windows to become secure creating a stability and willingness to learn.

A poet named Donovan Holtz said, "Through a window, I watch, windows are, for watching - Square pieces of life, ever changing." These frames provide two contrary needful aspects: confinement and openness. There are times when we have to take the lead, and there are times when we have to step back and wait. One should be attentive and then they can learn to not get hurt, and not hurt. It is very important to create a free space. It gives one a strong choice. But, one will think more, because they actually 'listen' to more versions of life. Then one becomes open to even criticizing statements, just because we waited and listened. It bends everything to make it constructive, and gives the power in the self to construct the truth and belief of life in a sensible manner. It is in our hands to not take advantage or be taken advantage of.

Thank you.

'izing' my life

A vastly spread dust storm hit my eyes and sorted my ears. Organizing Personalizing Analyzing my life now! Everything is happening Planning Breathing Working Goodbye!

19/11/2007

A sunny morning on a far way hill station and the birds were chirping with exceptional happiness. The air smelled of jasmine and dancing lotuses. Humans have never set foot in this land. The patterns of Nature are perfect. However, even the intruder is a creation of this Nature. If you go to this land, you will see an eternal rainbow. this rainbow never dies. A spectrum of all colours and differences live together.