Faith…

I feel the pain

I count the days and they seem so few

I count the hours and they seem to fly

My feelings are trapped and I stifle a cry

I hang to my faith

 

You have to leave and I have no say

We have no time

We’ll meet again

In the scheme of things

You say to me

Yet…

It’s hard

To keep my faith

 

I cherish the days

The moments we spent

The strength you gave

The joys we had

The bliss…

But it’s today

I feel so vulnerable

I fear my faith

 

So much still to do

Things we missed

Plays we couldn’t watch

Restaurants we didn’t explore

Travels we planned

And yet…

I feel so numb; I can’t feel your pain

I lose my faith

 

Death Aplenty!!!!

Everyday it’s a massacre. Right?

First time you get a mail, you rush to the notice board to be disappointed. Next time, you walk down the gallery with cautious steps. Eventually you have to drag yourself to face it yet again. The disappointment, the frustration!!

You desperately seek your name amongst the shortlisted students and wonder what did you lack or what did your resume lack. Is it because I am not from an IIT, or is it because I missed out on a good JEE rank? It could be because I did not perform during my professional career or may be I am no good at all. You try to reason it out but that makes things worse. Reasoning leads to further depression, because what other reason can you attribute to the utterly miserable state of affairs other than that you are a worthless moron.

And ah! the dreams you had. Dreams of attaining salvation, of washing off your earlier sins and of a fresh beginning.

But still you hope.

And one fine day, even hope deserts you for how long can you cling to this eighth sin. And the worst part, you still have to continue with your normal life, attend classes, write quizzes, be awake during endless PPTs…

That is it all about. Isn’t? The game should go on. For there are many more to come.

@ Back to iSkool

Two weeks at IIM B, and I am still to get into the rhythm of the place. I suppose things would eventually settle down, but the frenzied pace itself is overwhelming. Failures, success, passion, disappointments, enthu…..and the list goes on and on…..

One and half hour of class is difficult at a stretch and I dozed of a zillion times in the classroom in just a week. Am trying to device new ways of “staying alive”.

Flying Times

Days have passed by quickly, and I have acquired a lot of miles on my emirates frequent flier account, traveling all around the globe from India to Yemen to Houston to Sanaa to Dubai to India…..and back to Dubai on my way to Yemen. Have not been able to catch up with the blogging stuff. Hopefully would do so now.

U Know How It Is..??

This question freaks me out. How am I supposed to know how it is? Okay, so you had a bad day at office and to my question what went wrong, you reply, you know how it is. You have a top supervisor visiting your location, and you probably have to work your ass off. But I still don’t know how it is. Break up with your girlfriend, or probably the girl you like has umpteen boy friends, and in all probability she doesn’t give a damn for you. So am I supposed to know how is it?

I do nod in assurance and that probably makes you conclude that I am with you in what you feel and think. But I have no clue. I nod because I don’t know how to react to the question. I am sure you don’t expect a reply like, damn! I have absolutely no idea as to how is it, or hey! I am not going through it, and so don’t expect me to know how is it, or even better, hey!I think you deserve it.

Yes, there are times and events which I can relate too, and probably I can identify your feelings and thoughts. But that doesn’t imply I would be sympathetic. I have no idea as to how & why did you get into such situation. I have the picture you portray, and I would be foolish to accept it in entirety. For all I know, you deserved the outcome. And for all you know I myself would have been involved in some sinisterly secret way in the outcome.

But for all those who don’t get it, you know how it is……??

Alternate Existence

For some time now, I have been thinking of me existing in another place or time. Or to put it more succinctly the idea of my dual or even multiple existence. Given that origin of life on earth is a causal phenomenon, it could be possible, eh? An alternate me living a life same as me in some alternate universe/planet/country/wherever.

So how would it be meeting this other me? I wouldn’t rule out the possibility that I might spook out if and when it happens. I mean listening to your own thoughts. Wouldn’t it be creepy? I have had opportunities of listening to my own voice on several occasions and it was kind of weird. Given that I did not like listening to my own voice, how would it be listening to my own self? He would be able to speak out things which I would be thinking of. And what about free will then? Would my free will be violated?

Talking about free will, recent developments have come up with an hypothesis that free will doesn’t exist at all.

“Which means your conscious experience of making a decision – the experience associated with free will – is just a kind of add-on, an after-thought that only happens once the brain has already set about its business. In other words, your brain is doing the real work, making your hands turn the pages of this magazine or reach over for your cup of tea, and all the time your conscious mind is tagging along behind.” – Excerpts from the newspaper.

So free will anyways is an illusion.

Coming back to my alternate self, it would be like looking at yourself but with an aloofness and an unbiasedness which can seldom be achieved, while analyzing oneself. Without prejudice I would be able to judge myself and wouldn’t that be great? Or it might turn out to be worse, knowing what you are, and still willing to be what you are.

Catching up with friends…

How do you respond to the question how have you been? And that too to a friend whom you talk to almost after a lifetime. Should you be responding with a laconic comment such as “hmmmmm!!! am okay!!?” Or should you ramble about everything you have been through during the years you didn’t or couldn’t see each other. A friend with whom you used to share so many things years ago.

“The more things change the more they remain the same.” Most of us would agree to disagree with the quote. I am not an astute observer but I didn’t fail to notice the changes in my friend. I sincerely hope that the changes I observed are for better rather than for worse. And I wonder as to how would my friend be taking the changes in me. It’s difficult, for me, to ascertain the changes in me over the time.

Yes, we have traversed a long distance from what we used to be. Some of us have been able to achieve what we had been aspiring for and some of us have conveniently or inconveniently accepted aspiration as an end to itself. We have compromised and have learnt to improvise as we have moved along. Acceptance comes easier now.

Anyways, I was talking about talking with a friend of mine after years of not being in touch. And I felt good. It was an exhilarating change from an otherwise mundane office life. We kept babbling to each other, things coming out of us gushingly as if we were teenagers. Trying to catch up with each others past. How is your family? Do you have any girlfriends? How about work? Ah!!! and are you in touch with so and so. Tell me about your break ups. And it went on and on. It took a while for both of us to shed our inhibitions, but it was worth it.

It was nice to meander through the path once you had traveled, not so long ago, and the memories of which lie latent in the innermost recesses of your mind.

Keep The Faith…

I have wondered as to how and why we keep doing things we do. It is not only what we do in work, rather things we do with our life and in our life. Genuineness as someone said should be unadulterated. But as it is, it never is, is it? I would want to be honest with myself, and that is one thing I wouldn’t want to compromise with. Cent percent unadulterated genuineness with the self.

I wandered through my memoirs and searched for moments when I was what I am/was. I found but a few of them. And those were the moments of utter bliss, I recall. But they are lost, lost within the bruising reality that is life.

But I wouldn’t admonish myself, for what I am. Rather, I propose a toast for what I am, a human, with all the misgivings and the misdeeds I embody within me.

I would accept the fact. I am cheap. I somehow am not able to reconcile with the fact that I need to spend 25 USD (1100 INR) to travel 8 miles on a taxi or 50 USD for a t-shirt or 40 USD for a dinner, where I end up not eating most of the stuff. The cheapest t-shirt (the one I would want to wear) costs 1500 INR, even though I compromise on design, colour, and even fabric. GAP displays a shirt for 98 USD (4400 INR). It has a “Made in India” label on it. A friend who accompanies me buys a 650 USD watch for his fiancee. Back home things are cheap. In 1500 INR I could possibly get the best available t-shirt. Here the same priced t-shirt gets a Hmmmmmmm! and a Not bad! comment.

So what, if we do not have brands like FCUK or ARMANI? I am happy with the brands we have. Or the no brands at Fashion Street (Mumbai), Sarojini Nagar (Delhi). They are worth for what they cost. At times even more. Once I bought a Timberland shirt for mere 100 INR from a street vendor. Probably the shirt had some manufacturing defect, which was not discernible to a common human eye.

I had heard US is cheap. But I find it otherwise here. Last night I pampered myself and had a dinner which cost me 40 USD, excluding the tip. A dinner for one. It was at one of the 5-star restaurants, and as I said, I ended up not eating most of the stuff. So what’s the big deal? I would probably pay the same amount in an Indian 5-star restaurant. But there I could take a 5-minute walk and find a much cheaper restaurant, where I would pay 10 times less for a sumptuous meal. Even if I would have to take a taxi/auto/local train to find a cheap restaurant, it would be worth it. I would end up spending less anyways. Here, we do have cheap restaurants or joints. But I would need to spend 10USD or probably even more to reach the place. And another 10 USD to come back to my hotel. My hotel is located in one of the suave places of US. For me there is no difference.

But I still do it. And I still am here. Doing things I am cribbing about. Hypocrisy! eh?

The Waiting

I wait for the train to arrive. In the sweating heat, you are the only solace. I hold your hands for fear of being lost amongst hundreds of passengers. It’s my being lost is what I fear. You laugh at me. I glow with your warmth. I touch your brow. The jade bangle looks good on you. Bluish green bangle on your green dress. It’s hot and I am all sweaty. But you glow with a freshness which separates you from the rest. I like watching you. I know it would not be long. And still I hope it stays the way it is. The crowd is busy with itself. There is an undercurrent of excitement which is faintly discernible. I feel it. And you give me a nod, as if in approval. Silently, you turn your back. For once, you would not watch me go. It is painful you say. Left all alone in the midst of everyone. The train would arrive any moment now…