twit-twit

Me? Indian

Indians are unique. Maybe unique is an understatement; maybe we are special.

You see, there are very few others in this world who have such exposure to diverse communities as we do. We, specially as teenagers, get to live in an open community all day and get back to our usually conservative families at night. Some may think that this is beautiful. But diversity can be a dangerous thing.

Diversity is worth the title only when members of each faction proudly live up to what they have been taught to be right. If feeble minds mix it all up, the convoluted mess that is created is just plain disgusting. Originality is lost and without it, diversity is just a sludge.

Each one of us is a product of years of history. There is a lot more that went into making us the way we are than meets the eye. Every tiny incident in India's glorious and at times tainted past resulted in us being who we are today. That I believe is something to be proud of.

I was personally, happy when Madras became Chennai. I like it when some one who talks very good English pronounces words from their language the way they are meant to be. I like it when people are proud to be who they are and do their roots justice.

I think that respect for their own cultures makes people of other nations proud to be them. The way of life that the television dictates to us is the culture and tradition of some other land. We follow it because the ones we see on TV love it. Maybe if we loved being us just as much as they loved being them, they'd decide to be us in a heart beat.

It disgusts me to watch people listen to music and dream of things that they cannot relate to.
It hurts me to think that I cannot converse in any Indian language as well as I can in English. Makes me question who I am. Makes me ask myself if I am a wanna-be.

I want to see the World. I want to be in all the places that I have been shown or have been told about. I want to see all the good things in the world. But, I like to think that when i become old and withered, I'll see my 100% Indian grandfather when I look at myself in the mirror. That who I will die as was decided with my birth. I want my kid to dump me 6 feet under Indian Soil.

I don't want this post to bring out the Indian in you. If 20 or so years of being you couldn't make you appreciate you, a few of my lousy words will not and it will be foolish of me to hope for them to.
However, if you think this could make sense, look around at the mess we have made of ourselves.

Love what you truly believe is good, not what you've been made to think is nice..

as good as new :D

after spending four years in an evergrowing concrete jungle thats spread over a few acres, you feel like you know the place like the back of your hand. like you've been there and done that. then when someone reveals to you a whole new world of possibilities, you feel so.. small..

that is close to how i feel now.

our perspective of the world is always imperfect. makes me doubt if there is anything such as a perfect perspective.

sometimes, we see the world flying past us in a daze; and at other times, the world is as stagnant as an inanimate round of bullets floating in thin air like in a matrix movie.

in either case, the world seems to revolve around us.

college life is very interesting. it is like winter nights sleep in a cold house located on an hill station under a very thick blanket. you have to curl up and twist around in your struggle to keep yourself warm. when u finally find that warm cozy spot, you stay there.

much later at night, when u toss n turn a bit, you end up in the cold part of the bed and as a result, wake up.

the blanket and warmth is like the time and people you meet in college. you toss and turn until you find that really amazing cozy spot; and if you decide to be adventurous and explore new spots, all the sleep suddenly vanishes and you spend the rest of the night cursing yourself.

later, at mid morning, the bed seems like the best place to be in. warm and comfy.

heh.. 3 years down n techians can still surprise me :D

The way to love anything is to realize that it might be lost

John Grogan: A dog has no use for fancy cars, big homes, or designer clothes. A water log stick will do just fine. A dog doesn't care if your rich or poor, clever or dull, smart or dumb. Give him your heart and he'll give you his. How many people can you say that about? How many people can make you feel rare and pure and special? How many people can make you feel extraordinary?

Marley and Me :

u must watch this one

my beautiful mind

I went over to sharan's place on the internet.

I noticed that there is a post in there from about a week ago that i haven't read. I wondered what had been keeping me from blogs and blog-people for a week. I am known to leave things dangling at times but what have i been doing for the last week that kept me from this place?

Answer is: nothing.

All the other instances of sudden absence that i can remember have been for some reason or the other. This time however, i cannot attribute my abandoning of this blogosphere and the inhabitants of this world and my dear friends among those inhabitants to anything.

And then, to set things into proper chronological perspective, i scrolled down to the little link that says 'err-umm-okay'. The little italicised line under it read '5 weeks ago'.

And then it hit me. It has brushed past me before; but this time, it hit me like it probably never has before ('probably' because even if it hit me hard before, i could've forgotten - my memory is rotten).

I haven' been good.

I have no plans of what i am going to do or when i am going to do what i have to do.

I take the ticking hands of time for granted.

In all these years, I have not learnt (or have probably forgotten) that time flies and you have to hold on to it.

And with time, all those little things and people that you so cherish fly by and never come back again.

What has been happening in the last 5 weeks?

'My Share' was posted when i lived in a room. Now, i live in a closet.

I had fewer things to worry about then; but now, I have a few more to think about and set straight.

The semester that seemed all set to be the worst of the lot temporarily seemed to make sense. And then, now it looks like a mighty drag down to some sewer... (time will fill the ellipses)

I have learnt more about the people I have been studying with for the past few years.

I have more reasons to disdain and to admire the ones around me.

I have taken decisions that probably mean that manhood has crept around the corner and is ready to pounce on me. Not just one - but two.

I have learnt that people die. I have also learnt that the only thing that looks easier to me on foresight is someone's death. When it is upon me, it doesn't seem as simple or common.

I went on a trip and didn't get down to see the destination. We just drove back along the road that got us there.

I met many new people. Made some friends and made some enemies.

I've done all that and more.

So, why did i not blog? Death.

Not being empathetic gives you emotional strength of a strange sort.

It allows you to treat everyone with the same respect (or disrespect). You needn't control your reactions depending on who is on the receiving end. It gives you the freedom to act without much thought. You do what you want to.

But this can also be a bad thing.

It was painful to learn that Clifford Aranha passed away. Was devastating.

Even more devastating when I remember that walk one evening during these vacations when he got out of a cab right in front of me and i walked right behind him for about a minute without calling him from behind. I was probably too lazy to remind him who i was just in case he forgot. I think i told myself "He will be around and so will I.. I'll meet him some other time"

But that was the last time i would get to see him. The last time i would get to see that almost shiny face with a moustache that looked vaguely like one drawn with a pencil. The last time I would get to see the man whose heart had to be electrified back to life and could still stand up straight and imposing like a man.

The last time i would get to see the man who made us feel like men.

There are somethings that no book can teach us. Somethings that only life can teache us. Life teaches us these things through men like Aranha sir.

But he smoked. He drank. And I guess he knew what was coming to him. RIP

I live in a cocoon that is protected from emotions.

I drown myself in apathy like it is a narcotic. But these departed souls purge it out of me and make me want to have spent more time with them.

When they drag you out of that viscous emotionless ocean, and all the emotions in the world hit your heart like darts, you feel like a unclothed creature shivering in freezing cold.

It is not just Aranha. I remember Suja Ali, I remember that kid who got run over, I remember my brother in law, i remember my uncle.

But after all this, another day dawns and like clockwork, the routine takes over and I decide to dive back into the apathy. It keeps you from liking or loving someone but also helps me keep myself from becoming someone i'll later hate.

You are freed (or deprived) of the impetus of doing something for someone just because you like them. Sometimes, every good friend you see reminds you of how not good a friend you have been and that can hurt at times. Sometimes, the crayon and mr.murphy and the bubble bottle yell at me for being an ungreatful moron.

And at othertimes, they comfort me by telling me that there are people who are worth the empathy.

I thank the ones that keep the hope in me alive and i curse the ones that make me wish i had never known them.

Heh.. :) sometimes, i even feel like Scrooge.. N I am my own three ghosts :D

Sanity is a man's best friend.

Some find sanity in god, others find comfort in vices.

I am mentally stronger than most people and i know it. I can bury emotional turmoil and joyous exuberance in an expressionless face.

I label this as sanity though I know many people won't. I am unique i guess.

Even when the glimmer of hope looks like it is about to fade away, sanity stays.

It tells me "even this will pass" (sharan told me nithya)

And with that, it convinces me to stay away from what my good old friends have resorted to.

i feel like i can go on for ages. but i know i cannot and that i have to sleep.

If u are at the crossroads, just tell yourself that destiny awaits everyone and that "even this will pass"

and among others, i thank u (yes u) for making me realise that gifting can be fun.

my share

this is my share to the sudden surge in the number of blog posts..
*gasping to keep up*
guess the holiday season is maturing and all set to fade away

thank god for times like holidays, vacations, beach parties, child-hood, cartoons, milk teeth, school, bench engravings, colour pencils, ink stains, chalk powder, dusters, paper rockets, school bus rides, playgrounds, memories... all that and more :)
thank bruce for everything.. :-p

the season of sport finals is about to come to an end.. sigh

You are the coolest blog I've ever read and one of the few that i can relate to.. So.. Hoping that you turn morbid less often:) and continue to explore newer dimensions in the forthcoming year.. Bon Anniversaire! :)

-- anonymous

1 yo

So when your master Hari asked me to write something for your
birthday, I thought to myself, "Err..Umm..Okay.". And that's how I got
here typing a birthday message to you. Actually, Ryan's typing it for
me. So you're one eh? I've been there done that. I'm almost three now.
You've got a long way to go, that is if Hari lets you live :P.

So yea, nothing more to say.
Except probably, Happy birthday!

Keep 'em coming!

--
Sharanyan

__________________________________________________________________________________

It is amazing how, even after an entire year, we find ourselves where we were a year ago.

We go many miles around the Sun but decide to come right back to the beginning. And then, we go all around again and again...

There is something strange about anniversaries. It reminds us that somethings and some people last forever through these dates. Come to think of it, that is a comforting feeling :) we've all made our mark on the people around us by choosing a day to be born.

I am at home now, and a year ago I was here when this blog was created.

With more or less the same eagerness that I had when making my first post, I choose to call this blog EMO

Happy birthday emo!!!

:) here is the real song :)

(you too can wish emo happy birthday... write to hari939.bdaybash@blogger.com)

Isn't there somewhere else you'd rather be?