musings:as a title SO cliche

The one thing I have always wanted to do in my life is write. And I don’t mean just writing writing but writing well. Unfortunately I have not been very successful at it. Every time I see something interesting I want to write about it. But I somehow never sit down then and there and by the time I do, all the words, the phraseology I have thought and practiced in my mind earlier has flown out, leaving rather trite sounding phrases. This is possibly the first time in my entire life I have actually forced myself to sit down and write right then what I thought out. I did keep a diary once but ended up using it mostly for self piteous tales of suffering and sorrow that I was facing, which is why the experiment shut down in about two months. The thing about writing is what you write sounds brilliant to you but could well be the most clichéd crap ever written and how to make out the difference? I sometimes think that maybe I do have it in me to be a good writer, and frankly, if I could write really good MBs too I wouldn’t be that embarrassed (a bit though). But that feeling really doesn’t last. I wish there was some way you could be sure that what you were doing was good and right and had a point, and very hollywoodly, made a difference.
When I watch some really nice movie or read a really nice book or see something interesting, I feel something that I want to put down somewhere for permanence and show it around, am not sure why. I have this huge urge to talk to everyone about what I thought then, what came into my mind. But that feeling never lasts that long. 10 minutes, half an hour down the lane, I have lost that feeling. And am scared that it is because some part of me that can feel has in some way been hurt that I can no longer feel anything unless am actually going through it right then. And what am most afraid of is that it is because of what I have done to myself or what choices I have made that this part of me had died and now there is no going back. And so I keep forcing myself to be intense about things, to pretend that I feel more than I actually do or should, incase I can use that to go back to a time when I hadn’t lost that part and maybe someday I could feel again and be able to make people understand what I feel and write well.
I earlier use to think it was lack of experience, that once I learnt more, saw more I could do better at everything. But I think one of the real reasons that I still can’t write well is that I am not writing for myself yet. Half my reason is to be read and praised by others. I don’t just want to write well, I want people to think I write well and appreciate it and frankly, I want the jing bang of fame and fortune which some extraordinarily dumb people are getting nowadays for churning out utter rot. My imagination soars high above the ground when I think of what I will do with the money and the fame and how gracious I would be, the oh so simple person at heart. Unfortunately it fails me when I want to write what will supposedly (hopefully?) lead me to this fate. Which is perhaps one more hint that I should stay away from writing till then.

past witching hour

I have always wondered why ur darkest thoughts come to u in the middle of the night. It can be the happiest day or the saddest, but come 0300hrs and suddenly all the demons u have been hiding from come out and taunt u with their presence. The what-ifs, what-nots, all felt and unfelt insults come out to lash u again, to remember what they felt like. All u can do is think of all u could have done better, faster...thats the time to hate the most. There is nothing in this world that can hurt as much as memory of things that u could have achieved but lost due to ur own stupidity. And not all the justifications in the world, to urself or others, can make u forget. Why is it like that- what is it abt this time that will not let u forget?

THE DOG PRINCIPLE

To follow up on the previous post, we have together worked out a new principle that may (or may not) help you understand better the topic under discussion.

The dog principle works on the premise that everyone wants a dog as a spouse. A dog will run after you when you run away, will eat out of your hands, scare intruders, sit when u want him to sit, be playful when u want him to be and yet not bark when locked up in the loo because the guests are scared of dogs.

I sincerely hope that this will help u in further understanding any party u want to hit on the head. If not, I am sorry for u. My purpose on the other hand, has been accomplished- of seriously irritating the party concerned.

Till later...

WHAT ON EARTH GOES ON IN WOMEN'S MINDS???

i have been thinking of writing this mail from days..mostly because it will hugely irritate the two parties mentioned here (thank god they r far away) but what with exams and other crap never got around it till now...

Now, first things first. The reason for this title is that even though i am a woman, i have hitherto failed to understand what maggots are the reason for the workings of the mind of a woman. In this i totally sympathise with the poor male soul who has an even worse fate..no body would even bother explaining the workings to him (except of course my magnanimous self).

Sometime back i had this really long and as usual, quite arbit conversation with a good friend. This friend is quite different from me but we still get along pretty well. My main point of confusion had been her utter faith in the system of arranged marriage- which to mince no words, i would clearly call the "upaj" of a sadistic mind. So this time we asked this viewpoint. And the upshot of the conversation was that this faith was not due to any supernatural belief in her parents' wisdom or God. It was instead a belief that in an arranged marriage, she might get a spouse who would, i quote, "not be very romantic". To be exact, someone who would give and expect space in the relationship. Another point was that such a marriage was less likely to dissolve, from fear of society.

What i find most amusing about this entire conversation is that while this girl would rather wait for her parents to find her a suitable someone, another friend of mine is dying under the onslaught of what have been named "Rasnaboys" or as they are better known "Chaubey Baalaks".

For the ignoramuses, a chaubey baalak is a unique species. Tending to be fair and round, they are characterised by a total belief in anything written in a book, a tendency to want comforts and a thought process out of the 60s- 1560s to be exact. A beauracratic frame of mind and a love for good food are just add-ons.

The major problem this friend faces is that she is firang returned. The real problem is the fact that she is quite noticeably phoren returned. She prefers english, has a slight accent, dresses more in westerns, and actually has male friends (!!!!). The fact that she has almost 6 years of training in Indian Classical music and is one of the sanest members of her family is beside the point. She would infinitely prefer a love match- even a match with a good friend in similar traits- but that is not exactly her parents' idea of continuing a pure blooded line.

So here we have two cases, both pretty opposite and both on a different side for the oddest of reasons. What i find myself unable to understand is why is either party in such straits. The first friend does not mind a love match but some guy must magically realise that he likes her and she likes him and therefore they should hitch up and voila! happily ever after. The other friend is stuck due to a wish to fulfil her parents' wishes( whatever) and therefore will continue turning out soberly with tea and snacks for a new round of horse tradding.

When i opened my own blog, it was on the understanding that i can write whatever shit i want and therefore i have been happy to oblige u. May u gain more wisdom and understanding through this intellectual critique. :))

will write again soon. Sorry and all that :P

hi everyone

as this world is pretty much a pain...in a generic wish to help humanity i have created this blog to spread my unique fount of knowledge to those poor souls still living under the impression that the world has a reasoning and the moon landing was a NASA achievement...keep track...like the hitchhiker's guide...this is even better than a towel..and i promise no volgan poetry


" LIFE IS A COMPLETE SERIES OF DISASTERS ONE AFTER THE OTHER"