Raindrops keep fallin'

Raindrops keep fallin' on my head
But that doesn't mean my eyes will soon be turnin' red
Cryin's not for me
'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complainin'
Because I'm free
Nothin's worryin' me ~ B. J. Thomas's

Ocean

The sun was shining on the sea,

Shining with all his might:

He did his very best to make

The billows smooth and bright -

And this was very odd, because it was 

The middle of the night.

~Lewis Carroll

Street Lamp

Sometimes just looking up and seeing the light is enough.

Brush

Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures

~Henry Ward Beecher

Antz

If ants are such busy workers, how come they find time to go to all the picnics?

I vs. We

'An unabashedly shameless person, that's what he is and I like him for that'
I could just nod my head in agreement. Everything he does is high on histrionics with gimmicks, the usual posing Facebook updates. Its like he has an audience and every time he needs to entertain them, surprise them, shock them. Get people to talk about him.
But he was past that amateur phase, he was plain unabashed. He did what he wanted and lived by the simple credo to try almost everything new under the sun. So he was different from the tribe which lives by the credo to live and act for the audience around.
Some try desperately to impress the audience around, some try desperately to please the audience around, some look for approval and validation. Its almost parasitic how we live for that audience. He had cut himself free from the stifling bonds and with a detached air he lived his life. Love him or loath him, he's impervious. I remember reading, 'its easy to get pity, jealousy on the other hand needs to be earned'. And believe it or not some part of the civil society is jealous of his willful freedom and his scant disregard of the latter.
The character, Howard Roark (Fountainhead) made me actually wonder about the individual and the collective identity of ours. The Indian philosophy of 'ahama brahmasmi' talked about a bigger I, one that encompasses the entire universe. For me the idea of Howard Roark was the antithesis of this belief. The only common ground that I could think was, 'integrity'.
Having that 'self integrity' almost blurs the line between those extreme choices of life. Simply put self integrity is when we are not some sell-outs. We know the motivation about our actions and it aligns with what we truly think and feel. Its not corrupted or influenced by the need of approval by the audience around.
Its a tough place to reach, but when you reach there you can truly shout out. "I am what I am!'.

This small piece is a lame attempt to deconstruct the human psychology. I would really love to read and write something really insightful. Till then its random thoughts like this. Honestly every individual you meet has something unique about him, something unique ticking inside him motivating his every move. Its interesting to observe the behavior, although its difficult to put your finger down on the motivation part. Somehow 'motivation' is a little fickle, it changes for people frequently. Talk of finding a way to live with the idiosyncrasies and fickleness of people, it is a whole new chapter which brings to mind a whole lot of 'ex-room-mates' and some 'current roommates'!

Sum total

With the entire summer to my disposal,
I sat down to do some 'sum total',
Its always good to revise
the little maths you remember to appear wise


I stared at the anomaly that is me
and the anomaly that is you
in the light and 'shades of ray'
And it was clear this math is going to take a while
even without the friendly distractions and the tea breaks..
So with a deep breath I begin the task in hand
And took a sojourn into the years passed behind..


Its a rookie mistake to start at a zero
we start at a coincidental score..
the place, the country, the religion, the color 
the parents, the family 
an inheritance, an identity, a baggage
choose your word carefully my friend
because
it will always add up to who you are..


I like not the above grim math,
so a cheerful childhood reminiscence, should serve me right
every little game that kept you on your toes,
every little joy that gave twinkle to your eyes
every little fight that made you mad,
every little story that lulled you into sleep,
the rhymes, the festivities, the surprise tests,
the road to your home,
the stationers shop, the ice cream parlor
the friendly neighbor, the jealous aunt
each one added a piece to who you are.


The people you love and the ones you fight,
The friends you make and the ones you alienate
The movies you love and the ones you hate.
The songs that run in loops day in and out..
The person you are in the spotlight
and the one you turn into in the darkest hour


I like not the fuzzy math,
so a count of material riches, should quantify things right
the number of fancy dresses in your closet,
the number of new cellphones you've lost
the number of hardbound books,
the number of original CD's & DVD's
and yes the pirated ones as well
the cities you have seen,
the languages and foods you know
all speak of the person you are..


Can someone really do the math?
We trust not any person who nods in affirmation..
There's always more that what meets the eye
yet still, we hope for someone to get this math right..
to know and understand us,
when we cry and when we laugh..


But then all life promises is to somehow balance out in the end
and the sum total will be known only when it is truly the end..

Seeing the truth

Before I could begin to see the truth and type this blog, I browsed over few thoughts and recollections that I jotted down in my diary after reading a book by Hari Kunzru- My Revolutions. I read this book sometime in 2010 but a chance conversation today made me go back to my diary.
These are the words of Rumi, which open the book.

 'I used to have fiery intensity,
and a flowing sweetness
The waters were illusion
The flames, made of snow..
Was I dreaming then?
Am I awake now?'


The book tries to explore how idealism leads to violence and back to indifference. Truly, one complete revolution it is, to start and then finally end at the same spot where you started from. Is it not how a dictionary would define a revolution as? Does that make the idea of a revolution self defeating ?
So the book successfully or unsuccessfully brought me back to the verse i started with. About what lies, illusions, wars men choose to make life seem worthwhile. How day in and day out we fight out for some idealism, for some belief with fierce vitality, who is to know if that fight is truly worth it? Who is to know that one day when we'd be truly weary, we'd realize that there wasn't ever a reason to pick that fight.

Most often we are just there in the rink, taking and returning the punches, deafened by the noise around, maddened by the rush of the moment- so much so that we can hear our own heart beat, feel the blood gushing through the veins, see the nerves swell up against the taut skin. Its the one moment we feel truly alive. But what if for an instance we could actually observe ourselves unattached and unaffected from a distance, i really fear we might just look crazy possessed to our own eyes. We might as well appear fighting and defending a make believe world, just as in a dream.

I thought of our misplaced idealism in personal and social spheres. The fights that we sometimes pick up with our loved ones just for some lofty beliefs we have. How it makes us rigid not to bat our eyelid or accept things a little differently. How we throw fists in the air, say hurtful words and cry martyr. Its one drunken madness that we fail to see or we see way after the damage is all done

I thought of all the causes that men fight for. I talk of the causes that imparts a drunken righteousness to judge everyone around us. I talk of the fights were men lose their heart and humility and having lost that, fight for a higher pedestal and try to shout louder than anyone else.

The truth is each one of us needs a fight, to keep us going through each living day.However most importantly we need the heart to accept, the heart to believe in the goodness around and then to choose the right battles. The battles that we can fight in wakeful humility and blissful sleep..
 However still one can only hope, even so more for the good battles you pick that you don't get disenchanted and walk away even before the victor is announced. I have fought fiercely with all my heart only to realize that I didn't have my heart in it anymore, and so gave into the weariness and futility of the whole exercise. This disenchantment is the biggest fight and I don't know how some people fight it out when some people simply end up confounded.

Perhaps life chooses to play on our minds the same old tricks from its bag to get back at us at times..