existential nonsense

i look out from the window and see the golden leaves swaying in the wind and wonder whether they know it would not be long before they fall down. And i wonder about life, about hope, about love. i have one moment filled with this incredible lightness of being - when you know nothing matters in this life. But soon, that moment is swept away, as always. And i find myself back in the land of the living and worrying lot.

Why do these thoughts torment me? These thoughts of not knowing who i am, what i really want in life. i am the kind that would miss out on life because i am too busy trying to find the 'meaning' of my existence. Only to realise that life has passed me by while i was busy trying to figure it out.

For someone so intelligent, i can be such a fool at times!!

love...

"...Someone always waiting for someone who never comes home. Always someone loving something more than that thing loves them. And after a while you want to destroy whatever that thing is, so it can hurt you no more."

--Ray Bradbury's the foghorn

@######$%^&

It is just so hopelessly frustrating when you know the place you call home is overrun by such f%^&#$^@# morons. i am talking about the so called student unions who are forcing schools and colleges to boycott classes - the fate of the entire student community held at ransom by a handful of people who call themselves students.

Who are these people? What right do they have to force thousands of students to give up their studies to further their cause - whatever their cause is? You begin to despair for those students with dreams of pursuing higher studies. Apparently, the student bodies are threatening the board of education not to go ahead with exam plans. They talk about right to life and they play with the lives of thousands.

Now where are those so called saviours of our society? Where are those meira paibis? They will never be there when it counts. i guess they are too busy 'collecting' others' hard earned money or too busy meting out 'justice'.

When will this madness cease?

quote unqoute

“I have often wondered how it is that every man loves himself more than all the rest of men, but yet sets less value on his own opinions of himself than on the opinions of others”

--marcus aurelius

the art of sulking

Some people are born to be nice. Some to be famous. i was born to be a sulker. To sulk over everything and nothing. To sulk when he cannot read my mind and do or say the things i expect him to without my prompting him. To sulk if the sun does not shine on days when i expect it to. To sulk if things do not go the way i want them to. To sulk just because i feel like sulking.

i love sulking. In fact i think i am addicted to sulking if there is such a thing as getting addicted to a state of mind.

If my mother could be believed, and all mothers should be believed, i have been sulking since birth. Sometimes for valid reasons.Sometimes for no rhyme or reason. Which makes living with me a kind of art - to decipher the reasons for my sulking and wait for it to end. When i sulk, all i want is to be left alone, not to be talked to (or talked about), to wait for it to subside just like you wait for the tides to ebb.

i can sulk for days. i can sulk for weeks. i can even sulk for a month - though the last time i did that was about a decade back. Now that i am supposed to be a responsible adult - whatever that means - the most i can afford now is days.

i love sulking because i think it gives me a chance to withdraw into my shell without anyone prodding and poking me and i get to talk to myself for hours! If i had any sense i should have denounced this world and be daydreaming in some dark cave somewhere in the himalayas. But i guess it is too late now that i have managed to get myself shackled to ties of love.

So i continue to sulk. As a devious means to get my way. Sometimes to get out of fights. Sometimes to pick fights. To escape.

The more i reflect on my nature, the more warts i find. The more warts i find, the more besotted i become with myself. It is almost as if my mind is trying to compensate for the lack of love a nature like mine would most likely encounter. It will forever remain a mystery to me why i am still loved by everyone i want to be loved by. Maybe they fear i will start sulking!!

P.S. Apropos of my previous post, my sister finally did the needful. Which made me realise that i am only taken seriously when i am angry. Now, who can blame for being such a short-tempered hag?

family feud and other such asinine things

OK, so i called up home and refused to have a proper conversation with my ema and baba. Before you judge me unkindly (not that i would mind very much), here is the story.

One of my relatives got married last week. He is someone who has always treated me like a sister when i was growing up - he used to get me books from library and buy me indrajal comics. Unfortunately, due to some misunderstanding, his mother and siblings had a falling out with my uncle. They are next door neighbours on top of being our relatives. i don't know how the social system works, but my parents also ended up not being invited to the wedding even though they had no part in the misunderstanding.

Now, that is one of the biggest social snubs as far as my parents are concerned! It is a funny thing how people take offence at being left out - i am all too happy whenever i am not featured on any invitation list. i heard about it from my younger sister with whom i spend hours on long distance calls gossiping about every possible events and non-events. i being the insensitive bitch as always, i called up my parents and said "i heard you people were not invited to the wedding" and started laughing as if that was the greatest joke i have ever heard. i think my father was hurt and he asked me whether that made me happy. i was like how does it matter at all whether you got invited or not. That is not the story though.

i asked my mother to go and give Da (brother, just like in bengali!) some money on my behalf as a wedding gift. My mother went 'OK'. Now, i called up after a few days and asked her whether she has done that. No. So i told her if she did not want to go there herself, she should ask my elder sister (who got invited, i think because she is married and maybe, they consider her no longer of our family..how silly!!). She said OK. Now i called up after a few days and asked the same question. No. Now, i am not a patient person but still, i held my peace. She said she would wait for my younger sister to come and let her do the needful. Thus pacified, i went on with my life.

i called up today and talked to my sister and asked her whether she went to Da's place. No. i really lost it then. i know how they feel snubbed and all that but i have been telling them not to drag me into their fights. i do want to be part of any feud weud. Da has always been so nice to me - like a big brother i never had. And i could not understand why their pride has to stand in the way of my wish. Judging that i was losing my infamous temper yet again, ema said she will make my elder sister go there tomorrow morning. i told her i don't like them and don't want to talk to them anymore. i know i am so cruel. But i just hate all these petty things. All i ask is not to be dragged into it. Is that too much to ask for? i have only one life to live and i don't want it to be cluttered with any more negative thoughts than is necessary. As it is, my head is already messed up with stupid existential questions and dreams.

My sister says i am an escapist because, as much as i love gossip, i hate hearing the stories of family feuds - this aunt saying that, doing this. It really gets me depressed because i cannot figure how why people has to be so petty to fight over land or money. i just cannot figure out how siblings can be cruel to each other, say hurtful things. i can never figure out the ways of this world. Hell, i cannot even figure out myself.

i am sad. And angry.

blah blah

My sister has gone home. She must be feasting on all those delicacies. Playing with my little cousins and niece. My heart is filled with envy.

i have three books with me right now - 'lady in white', 'red' and 'a house for mr biswas' - half digested and discarded midway. Now i cannot decide which one to pick up again. Or whether to pick up any at all.

And i want to eat dosa. The nearest south indian restaurant is about half an hour by bus. Since there is no parking space we cannot go by car. i had to trawl the net searching for any place that would sell me dosa, then beg him to take me there. He is not a dosa fan but because of my silent nagging (yes, there is such a thing as silent nagging. i think some people call it sulking), we did go there about three months back. He got dosa mix and made dosa for me the other week. He was over the moon because he thought the dosa was delicious. i agreed with him - it was the love behind the effort rather than the taste that i appreciated!

And i want to do lsd. Just once. i want to feel what it is like to 'see' sound and 'hear' vision. Ironically enough, i have had this desire after i read the chapter on the harmful effects of drug in high school!! i would also like to be a waitress.

And i know my life will end without me getting on a 'trip' on lsd or taking orders from diners. shesh.

another one of those meaningless posts

The weather is becoming brittle - every now and then the clouds break into droplets, the sun hides, the trees moan and sigh in the wind. And my mind goes blank every now and then, devoid of thoughts and dreams. i float in and out of reality, one foot in dreamland, another hovering over reality.

After another one of my unexplained break-ups with books, i got back again with the written words. And as always, i find myself living the stories. i am in the middle of two or three books - with age i am becoming more fickle. Years ago, i would not have been able to even think of starting a book before finishing one. Now, i flit from one to the next, leaving unfinished stories hanging on a line. Sometimes, i go back to finish the story. Sometimes, i just bury them. Pretty much like most of my fragmented dreams.

These days i find i am searching for nothing. i am empty. Drained.

It could pretty well be the weather. Either that or i am mellowing, rather fading. i think i want more books. i think i want to get high on grass and talk to the stars. i think i want to sleep and have another one of my recurring dreams. i think i am so losing it.

Ema always used to worry about me and my ceaseless thinking - she used to say i will go mad one day. i think i am already mad.