Be Yourself

The question of the past, the doubt about the future and the hoariness of the future is omnipresent in our lives. Any plans for the future almost always land one in the most unexpected places. The present is a rudderless ship. The past haunts, chides and presents phantasmagorical images of what-would-have-been presents and futures. Its almost like living in parallel worlds, only you are not living in any of them. And the reality has none of the allure. Do we learn anything from the past? Is experience all that vaunted as they make it out to be. Would the future be what we would like it to be, if we start acting on the present. Or learning is all a myth, and our actions are either pre-ordained or plain randomness. What if the anthropic principle is the grand truth-that this present is the best of all possible worlds. Then does the past has any significance. Do the intrinsic qualities of man define his actions or the social and environmental constructs play a larger role. Does it make any sense to adopt any philosophy or set of ideals and change one's psyche under such randomness. If there is no independency of the fundamental opposites then where do we decide to align oneself. Or is being rudderless, the way it was ordained to be. To make serendipity possible. Yes, maybe being yourself is the best decision that we can take under the circumstances. Atleast knowledge of the self wouldn't land one in any unknown shore or uncharted waters. Is there any answer?

February 2011

I had intended to start this on February first. Yet as I am an ardent follower of the philosophy of procrastination, it inadvertently got delayed one day. But its better late than never.

So, February, yet another February, the shortest month of the calendar, the month of purification according to Romans and in modern connotations, the month of Cupid where you get your wallets fleeced, as these days even love comes attached with a price tag.

What are my goals for the month.
1. Stick to this list, which I have never done.
2. Stick to office hours. No more arriving late and leaving at inhuman times in the night.
3. Get back to my old reading frenzy days.
4. Write more often.
5. Prove to my relatives that I am not as anti-social as they deem me to be.
6. Start sketching after a ten year long hiatus.

Enough for two months. I think so.

Inspiration

From the days of prancing around in half-pants to the days of self consciously attiring yourself for your first job interview, one question transcends that vast gap of time. Who has been an inspiration for you? From hackneyed answers like Sachin Tendulkar to the flabbergastingly dumb answers like Mother Teresa(relive Priyanka Chopra-Miss World title), we have seen them all. The spectrum of the answers are also mind numbing. From fathers and mothers to celebrities to business tycoons to sportsmen, actors, models, we seem to have spared none. The bloody self-help writers have made a killing out of the phenomenon of people needing an inspiration.

And yet, no body seems to have answered the fundamental question. Why the hell do we need an inspiration. If every jackass who had Sachin Tendulkar as his inspiration, achieved even an iota of their idol, a Murali Vijay wouldn't have had a chance to flop three times in a row. And as for having your father and mother as an inspiration, I think its a terrible lack of imagination. And instead of trying to ape a Ratan Tata, its better to divert one's efforts to actually try one's hand at entrepreneurship. And I wont even start on actors and models.

I beg to differ. Its hard enough to live upto one's own expectation. And then you have your parents, relatives and peers. I don't subscribe to the foolhardiness to add to that wretched list. I am just about happy being myself.

The Dark Knight

What is it about a superhero, that keeps us humans, so rational and logical at all times forsake those and feel awed at the glaring impossibility of the subject. Yet it pervades all cultures and transcends all civilizations across the eons of time itself. From Gilgamesh to our homemade Ramayana and Mahabharata, from the Nordic tales of Valhalla to the strange chalk paintings of the Australian aborigines, mankind sure loves a hero.

Apart from extolling the virtues that half of mankind surreptitiously chooses to turn a blind eye to, superheroes are an idea of perfection. Something that is meant to be aimed at, while being impossible to attain at the same time. A classic paradox. Yet every superhero has an alter-ego, and more often than not, a very nondescript character who doesn't attract a sideways glance. While it was a matter for deep consternation within me, the reason behind the mask, it was much later that I understood no superhero could have endured the ugliness and vacillations of mankind without a mask. It doesn't take long for the capricious mob to turn a hero into a villain.

And my vote goes for the Batman. The cape, the Batmobile, that batcave, the mansion, the riches, the playboy alter-ego, the utility belt,the Libran sense of justice and the greatest arch-enemy of them all-the Joker. Thats enough in my book any day.

Last Minute Blast

As I begin writing this post I am acutely aware that yet another weekend has gone by. The pile of unwashed clothes keep piling up, the amount of pending work from office has gone up to a harrowing level and my copy of White Teeth is still awaiting completion. As usual, I wonder if the rules of relativity are relative for me. And as usual time has slipped by akin to coins from a torn pocket. Ans as usual nothing is new.

Nothing has changed from the days where I used to run about a headless chicken on the eve of exams. It must have been a wonderful sight to watch. A drowning man deliberating on the strength of a multitude of straws. It was a time when attending the call of nature could cost valuable marks the next day. As I graduated to a more deplorable state, where the choice was to pass or fail, the habit became more pronounced. Suddenly a game of AOE became more interesting, an elusive picture of Bill Gates daughter almost drool worthy, every message on LAN Messenger sinfully tempting and the buffer time of a HIMYM episode almost nerve jangling.

I just take solace in the fact, that there are empathizing voices all around.