Tuesday, February 28, 2006

do I know me...

There ain’t no sound, or maybe I’m deaf. There ain’t any light or maybe I’m blind. I’m bruised maybe I’ve been in a fight, but these bruises are different…I can’t feel them. I can’t taste my perspiration, I don’t even know if there is any sweat. I can smell everything though… that in other words means I can smell nothing. I have never been in such proximity to myself, I feel estranged. I search for distractions, but there are none…I have been robbed of them. I am alone with myself, and I don’t know how to start a conversation…

Its like being in front of a mirror in a dark room, you expect to see yourself, but don’t expect to meet yourself. These nuances are important because they define the thin line between knowing what you are and what you think you are.

I still can’t decide what to say. I feel insignificant… I don’t feel a thing… I assume I am insignificant… I feel my solitude…twenty years he’s been my tenant and I haven’t got myself to know him…
I can’t recall anything else I have accomplished…my memory escapes me…
Everything in this life is futile…I conclude…I don’t know myself…
In Greek mythology, Sisyphus, who had once deceived the gods and cheated death, was condemned for eternity to roll a stone up a hill. Every time he was about to complete his task, the stone would roll free back down to the bottom of the hill. Sisyphus would then have to start over again, even though the same thing would just happen again. Thus, the punishment of Sisyphus is a punishment just because it is an endless exercise in futility. Sisyphus is stuck in an eternally pointless task. Now, if the world and everything in it are also pointless, the lesson is that the task of Sisyphus is identical to every thing that we will ever be doing in life. We are no different from Sisyphus; and if his punishment makes the afterlife a hell for him, we are already living in that hell.
What can Sisyphus do to make his life endurable? Well, he can just decide that it is meaningful. The value and purpose that objectively don't exist in the world can be restored by an act of will. Just going along with conventional values and forgetting about the absurdity of the world is not authentic. Authenticity is to exercise one's free will and to choose the activities and goals that will be meaningful for one's self. With this approach, even Sisyphus can be engaged and satisfied with what he is doing.
To live one's life, one must exercise the freedom to create a life. To create a life one must know what one wants. The sad part is I still don’t know what I want…the happy part is I don’t want to know…

What then was the point of writing the article you will ask… let me ask: Why should you care…

Friday, February 24, 2006

I don't want to dream

I have begun to dream…don’t know if its true
For I dream in my dreams…haven’t a clue
It’s a dilemma… I’ve been trying to fight this enchanting plight
Culling emotions these ethereal manifestations expedite

Why me…I ask of them…let my mind be free
Cluttered with spikes…it has lost all its symmetry
Why ask us they say…your mind is your own
Why blame us if its imagination prone

I could swear I met Alice in wonderland
I have crossed the Rubicon, even surfed on the Arabian sand
I have been in Pele’s shoes, in Presley’s grooves
Forget it…start afresh the morning behooves….

That essentially captures it…my pain…the strain
What is that I dreamt…ladies and gentlemen did you know…ABEL slew CAIN!
I still don’t know if this development would benefit me
I have resorted though to a great dreamer’s autobiography…

This is what he says…it’s like walking on a thousand shattered pieces of glass
Doesn’t take people long to realize you belong to the fools’ class
There are few though who polish the glass under there feet
They are then admired and placed in the elite…

Inspiring words…sans motivation though
I could do without dreams I know
I could do without being the emperor or a superhero
I could do without starting every time on zero…


I am therefore I think…..

Wednesday, February 22, 2006

MBAed!!!

Closing walls and ticking clocks…………I stand here keeping time on a watch without calibrations. There exists a bothering sense of urgency… unrecognizable, incomprehensible yet undeniable. Don’t know if its fear but what is there to be afraid of. Maybe its ambition but what is there to want. Maybe it is failure but what is it that never did fail? No it is not success for success isn’t complete without more success. It has to be something else that drives me, thrives in me, loves me and makes me love…aspire…fear…fail…succeed.

I find myself on the platform … staring … waiting. I feel my pockets for a cigarette…don’t find one…I remember I don’t smoke… I look around for somebody to speak to, don’t see anyone…or maybe I don’t want to see anyone. I speak to myself…try to read lips…

Passing time shows no arrogance only apathy… it passes noiselessly for sound is free…passing windows catch my attention now and then… I see beauty… admire it secretly… then turn away…can’t decide whether she eyes me too…can’t decide whether I could get myself to want her… she gets off…I get off…

I am still speaking…I am the only one listening…I am destined to appear for an interview…MBA interview…I consciously walk straight…wear a meretricious smile…there are other guys like me…I hate their ties…I love mine…I feel hollowed…inside out… there are friends around…some from same college…most of them better than me…but these people are ‘modest’…complements attract complements…don’t they? …There is a lot of sugar around… I feel lonely…if there is one thing worse than being an ugly duckling in a house of swans; it's having the swans pretend there's no difference… I feel saturated…I hate interviews…I don’t know why do I want to do an MBA…

They don’t care what I tell them… I don’t care too… its called mutual cooperation…they understand… I understand too… I feel sad though…I want to go home…

I am home…I feel relaxed…I strip down for a shower…let the cold water douse me…I like myself in the mirror…regular exercise pays…it does…I like the roughness of the towel…I finally have a smile on my face…

Mom calls…she wants to know how the interview went…I give her my account of it…she cannot believe I said what I did…I reassure her…she gives way…never mind she says you can always go to Harvard…oh I love my mother…my sister calls too…speaks of everything except the interview…I love her too…I can’t tell her that though…saying that would be hara-kiri…my spirits are up and running again…

I have five missed calls on my cell…Kalyan wants to know how my interview went…even Pallav is curious…Vaibhav desperately wants the bad news…lol…somebody else is also concerned…I call her up…she’s at all ears to my story…she has her own too…I listen to it reluctantly…I am in no mood for another one on shopping discounts…it turns out to be interesting though…a covert invitation to a dinner party…now I feel I have a life…fortunate one…I accept…

I had to lie…I would be visiting friends in Noida I told my mother…but its ok…didn’t want to handle too many questions…Kanika looks like a diva…we dance…I am pathetic at dance…she’s tolerant though…I step on her foot a couple of times…she steps on mine…I am happy I came…Sid is there too…even Kapil…we have an amazing dinner…first time in the day I feel satiated…Mom calls…she knows…I am guessing…its for saying good night…our night though has just begun …I finally feel I am among equals…I am smiling…I am happy…I live for people around me…I love them…I don’t care if I make it to an B school…at least not until tomorrow…