Ponderings on a Saturday night...

How much can a person cling onto things so illogical and impossible, that others scorn with disbelief and even contempt at such naievity, yet you somehow remain steadfast in your passion, knowing you can never be able to explain to others what they are losing out.

How much can a person give completely to others, without losing a shred of their own identity?

How much can you care for a person, without it being reciprocated in an equal or a higher measure?

How long can you live as a shadow and without a pressence?

How long can you live in denial and letting things be?

How much can you dream when the reality you see is nothing like what you wish it to be.?

How long can you hold on to the faith of an happy ending?

The long ride back home

The time six pm has always held special meaning in my life. Growing up, this was the time when the prayer lamp was lit and school books had to be opened, regardless of whether there was any homework or whether there was anything to study. Even if I convinced my mother that nothing was taught in school that day, I still had to open the book and read something. Watching TV, reading story books or even listening to music till at least seven was a big sin. So watching any sitcom on Star TV during this time was strictly out of question.

Six pm was the time when girls got back home so that they could aid their mother in the evening prayers and also good girls were not supposed to be outside their homes in the late evenings.

Even when I left home for college, I ended up in a place with a six o clock curfew. Even though this curfew grew to be nothing but a slight inconvenience as third year approached, the fact remained that six o clock was deemed the acceptable maximum time for girls to stay out.

Maybe because of this, that now even when I am living in a world without curfew, I start getting paranoid if I am outside after six, especially if I am alone. This feeling though has been on the vane, since I almost always leave office only after six. Also a lot of dinners have been happening, so I guess I should be ridding myself of this paranoia in some time.

After one such dinner, I caught a bus back to Adyar from Chetpet at around seven (early dinner). I usually don't catch a bus that late, but did not feel like spending 100/150 bucks on auto. I missed the AC bus, but thankfully managed to catch another ordinary bus soon enough.

So I am sitting in the bus and since it was a little crowded, did not feel like slipping on the headphones. With people constantly asking you to pass the ticket money, there was really no point listening to music. So I inadvertently started observing the people around me.

There was an old man giving insurance and retirement advice to a younger chap. A newly married couple, wherein it was the wife's first time in Chennai and who slowly raises her eyes in question to her husband who was sitting on the other side of the bus as to whether she could occupy the window seat that had been vacated, and he in answer quite adoringly nods his head and she filled with a little girls glee goes on to occupy the window seat. Successive occupants of another window seat all trying unsuccessfully to open the window, that the conductor had to tell them it wont happen. A woman unmindful of all, peacefully sleeping.

And then I felt it. The silence. Horns were blaring, phones were ringing and people were talking. All of them but, had the tiredness of the days work and the eagerness to get back home, etched in their faces. There was this silent chord connecting all of us on that bus that day. This must be a common thread on all buses at this time of the day.

The long ride back home. Be it the driver of an air conditioned car listening to the music from the radio or a person on a bus listening to the words of fellow riders, the satisfaction of a days work well done and the anticipation of food, being with your loved ones and sleeping off the days weariness binds all the employed. Whether blue or white collared. In the end we all work.

Obsessions...

http://in.youtube.com/watch?v=2-RjMRP5IbI

http://in.youtube.com/watch?v=AzfCLLD_RVk

Being...but not quite!

All through life I have been flattered enough to hear comments about whether I was trying to become invisible whenever I dont,allegedly, eat enough and whenever I go walking or engage in any physical activity. And then there are the comments like whether my eating is basically "drinking wind", to literally translate it, to be compared to a stick or more precisely Gandhi's stick, whether when I stand on the wieighing scale it registers anything, shopping in the kids section...I could go on and on about all these intelligent comments that people around me make.

And to make the thin situation more complicated, is the problem of being a quite person. The number of times people have suddently asked while walking on the roads, "where is rasika/ras/ratty/chika(u)?" when I'll be just walking alongside.

Fans have been switched off when I was sleeping, thinking I was not in the room, and perfect strangers have sat on the lower berth of the train where I lay sleeping, cause they feel it is a shame to let so much space on the berth go to waste.

Being thin and quiet. Thats all it takes to be invisible. No need to be exposed to some cosmic rays like Mrs. Reed Richards of the Marvel World.

Go on.Go on, have a bite.

Has it always been the case, or have fairy tales suddenly turned scary. I dont I remember getting scared reading the books, though the movies…the Disney ones for that matter too…did scare me out of my wits! The scene where evil fairy leads Princess Aurora to touch the poisoned spindle which would put her to sleep, or the scene at the waterfall with the witch and the apple. SCARY!

My five year old niece was reading out Snow White, Hansel and Gretel, and they scared me very nicely. I could not sleep that night. Imagine being in a forest alone at night, or having someone try to kill you, and wanting to throw people into the fire and cook them!. Why exactly are they children’s books? Ok accepted, they always live happily ever after. But does there always have to be people trying to poison, burn, kill whilst they are on this journey?

Grim!

To buy a CD...

Almost everyone I know, atleast all the guys, seem to be always downloading stuff off the net. I remember my brothers leaving the computer switched on all day even during the dial-up period, so now with broadband, the folks downloading stuff can only have increased.

My downloading experience has been limited to music files, mostly using P2P sharing softwares. Have never used torrents and the like. Its just that I get irritated whenever I start downloading any big files like movies- I look at the size of the file and even if I start downloading, cancel the same within five minutes. It's like that also with food, for me. The more the food in front of me, the less i feel like eating it.

I like buying audio CD's. It makes you feel more connected to the artist and music somehow. Picking up a CD, looking at the cover, checking the listing of the songs, appreciating the art work on the CD, reading the accompanying booklet...

So now that you are convinced to buy original, why does it have to be so hard to do so?

Imagine you are in a bookstore, and you are tapping along with the music thats being played. By the time you have moved from the book section to the music section, you have decided you are going to buy the CD. You appraoch the desk, ask them what CD is playing, and you ask them to locate it for you. He goes through the CD's, asks another guys, they search together for like ten minutes, then they check whether stock is available on the system, and what do you know...it's not!!! They grin sheepishly and say sorry and move on.

Now, you cant get the songs out of your head. The urge to download them is oh so strong. But then you can never see the CD artwork ( viewing it in ITunes is quite not the same), or rack it up with the other CD's, and not feel like you have betrayed the artist who has given you such joy!

This has happened to me twice recently. I still lookout for them, and have not downloaded them.

I wait in anticipation of eventually locating that CD...it just has to happen.

Trixin it up!

I am 22 years old and I spent the whole day running regressions! Indeed living the life!

Oh Oh !

Should I be worried?

The sound of music...

People bursting into songs on the street...ok...I accept the fact that it aint quite realistic...but what film is?

Any film, be it action or historical; based on some event or person, or any film based on a 'true story', will never achieve complete realsim. So it is quite unjust to bash musicals on that fact.

A hero serenading the girl connveys so much more emotion than conversation ever can. Maybe this is just the romantic in me talking. Leave alone the romance, music can be associated with any facet of life, be it the joy of birth and the pain of death (The cirlcle of life -The Lion King), the innocence of first love(Summer days-Grease), learning to survive ( The bare necessities - The Jungle Book), and so on forth.

Some of my favourite musicals include The Sound of Music , Oliver Twist, Jungle Book, Grease, Moulin Rouge and of course Across the Universe.

Across the Universe is slowly becoming quite the addiction. I have watched the movie twice, the videos on You Tube like once everyday and am either listening to the soundtrack or humming it all day thru. The best scenes to me are the video for 'With a little help from my friends' and the part of 'Hey Jude' where Max goes "hey jude jude jude jude jude jude!" and runs to hug Jude. Bono and "I am the Walrus" is a class apart, the "goo g'joob g'goo goo g'joob" bit being very awesome!

A lot more remain to be seen...so if not for anything else atleast one can look forward to a musial journey ahead!

The Pup!

There is a little puppy in the house now. One cute adorable thing a lil bigger than the size of my hand.

The cat has competition.

Oh! The first thing the pup did when it came inside the house...it made the carpet wet.

Puss

I finally finally have a cat in the house. Its not my cat neither is it technically my house, but what the heck it's a cat and it is there where I am residing.

The cat is black and white in colour, with the most amazing tail, which sometime stands up pole straight (vertically). Stata's tail was straight horizontally. It has the the sweetest of purrs and the deepest of eyes, I guess but that's true of all cats.

It faithfully follows anyone into the kitchen and has perfected the art of hypnosis, with nothing but his (i think) eyes. I was sitting down the other day, this fellow comes and rubs himself against my legs. I started petting him, and before i realise what's on his mind, he jumps onto my lap, makes himself comfortable and goes to sleep. I was feeling rather happy with myself for making friends with the cat, when another girl goes into the kitchen, and within a second this fellow jumps of my lap and follows her. Few minutes later comes back and jumps onto my lap again.

Cats are just too damn cute!

Weekends!

I finally realise why people look foward to weekends!

The next two days are going to be my first weekend after i started working. I was looking forward to the weekend, not because of stress or anything concerning work, just that the week has been pretty busy, but good busy, so I had to push a lot of things for the weekend. So it will be nice to get some "me" things done. Relax a little and go shopping. Good time to catch up with ones friends.

Work has been quite, well, comfortable till now. I guess that is what happens in a start up firm, when there are only few people in the office and also when you know nearly all of them. The future looks to be quite strenuous, with seemingly lots of work to do in the weeks to come. Looking forward to it though!

The last few days

When things are coming to an end, no matter how hectic or chaotic it is and how much ever things there are that you need to be doing, inevitably your already cluttered up head goes back to all those things that have happened in the past, things that have left an indelible mark on your psyche, things good and bad, things you wish had not happened and the things you wish had turned out differently.

Goodbyes are filled with the sadness of parting with your friends, your school, your realm for so long and yet also with the pride and satisfaction of completion and the strange mixture of eager expectancy and dread of the things still to experience. One chapter of the story of life is written; one chapter of the many waiting to be written.

If !

Reciting poems was something that I really interested in when I was at school. I think i managed to recite some Malayalam poems also, did not do much justice to these poems though. I don't remember all the poems I have recited, but I do remember reciting Rudyard Kipling's "If ".I remember randomly choosing that poem out of some book, because I found it a very powerful and emotional poem. But I never knew about what exactly Kipling was meaning when he wrote this poem.

History classes later on enlightened me on how incredibly racist and imperialistic he was. Who can forget the famous "white mans burden"? But I never did realise the connotations behind "If". An article by Shashi Tharoor in the Sunday supplement of the Hindu, dated 13th April '08 brought into light incredible truths about this poem.

That's when I realised something. You learn something everyday. You just have to open your eyes to the world around you. In school, you learn first that numbers start from 1, and then you discover 0, then negative numbers enter the picture together with decimal points. You realise then that numbers have no beginning and no end. Same with learning.

The learning curve. The pursuit of knowledge. Discovering facts and unearthing new truths. Realisation of the self. In a ever changing world. Who said life was boring!

I learnt yesterday that in spite of having two left feet, and if I don't think too much, I can actually dance and have an incredible fun time.

I've learnt that even the most seemingly happiest and successful of persons will have issues and their life will be just as complicated as any other.

I've learnt to accept change.

I've learnt to exist.

Wonder when I'll learn to live!

Arbit again...

~In this world of excess, I have been neglecting my studies, dissertation, blog...

~A live cockroach causes more alarm than a dead cockroach.
A dead human being causes more alarm than a live human being.

Crossing the line

In a normal conversation with your close friends, where do you draw the line with respect to insults and humour?

True, its very subjective. You can call someone a b**** like an endearment, but if you call someone else that, then rest assured that the latter will never speak to you again.

Most of the jokes cracked are based on some deficiency, be it physical or mental. In a close knit group, you can get away with most insults as you know the other does not mean much when he says it and also because you have also learnt to see the humour in it.

But inevitable you cross the line. You say something, and then you can visibly see the hurt in the other person, however hard he tries to shrug it off. With any other person, or in any other situation, the comment might not have registered.

I guess this is why they say you learn something from everyone. You learn where each one is at, and how far you can push them. No two people are alike and if you treat them and consider them the same, then perils are rather forthcoming.

Oops!

I have been playing tennis for the part three months. You think any fall I would have would tend me on the Tennis courts! No! I had to fall from while getting up from the steps where I was sitting! How unglamorous. And no knight in shining armour was there to scoot me up and carry me to my room! How unromantic! Alas…this is how life goes.

The previous leg accident I had was when I tore my ligament while, yes, climbing down steps, in school. Think I should herby avoid steps!

So basically, this recent fall was nothing major, just a blood clot and a nice swelling. The doctor was more interested in why my second toe was longer than the fat one. He said though I’d be very wealthy (Better be true because I really need to get myself a plane), my leg frame was weird. I told this to my mother and she shared some interesting tales from my baby years. Apparently I started walking really early, before my bones could properly develop, and that too like a duck, with the left leg slanting towards the left and the right leg slanting towards the right. Hence my folks had to ensure that I did not try walking, at least till my bones developed. So my natural walking tendency was restrained due to lack of adequate supporting structure!

But more than the fall what I remember most from that day, was how sure I was that something bad was to happen. After wearing the same gold chain for like the past 5 years, (other than removing it for marriages and other occasions), I took it off that day to wear a silver chain. I was bored of the gold pendent, and since the other pendants I had were of silver, I had to wear a silver chain. Anyways, I figured that I was too old to have faith in good luck charms and stuff, I took off the chain. I fell some five hours after that. But I guess, it could have been a lot worse, and so I still wear that silver chain…a testament to the fact that things do happen…but not over a change in a lucky ornament!

Cricket @ Chepauk!

After spending close to five years in Chennai, I finally managed to break the jinx of not being able to go for a cricket match at Chepauk, Chennai. There was always something or the other that prevented me for going for one, be it exams or information asymmetry and the situation being made worse with the fact that hardly any matches took place in Chennai!

This was my second live cricket match. The first one was at Rawalpindi, Pakistan. A ODI between India and Pakistan. The match by itself was boring, though it had its moments. Dravid scored a half century, but Shoaib Akthar was not playing. He came out running during the drinks break but, his great mane swaying in the Rawalpindi breeze, him being the Rawalpindi Express! But it was a great sight to see Inzamam Ul-Haq walking down to the crease. The slow and calculated lonely walk oblivious (?) to the narrowed and expectant gaze of thousand pairs of eyes! The sight that makes the people go hush and the grounds silent.

It was the crowd that I will forever remember from the match. The simple joy and happiness and other varied emotions that crossed the faces of the Pakistanis when you told them that you were from India and how eager they were to share stories, their food, and their time. Incredibly curious about how it was like in India, and how the normal Indian looked at Pakistan. That’s when the truth struck me. North Indians have more in common with Pakistan, than with South India. I’m sure a person who has been in the likes of Delhi would not notice much of a difference if he goes to Lahore! The true depth of the Partitions dawns with this realization.

Now coming to cricket @Chepauk. I bunked class to go buy the tickets (You can now understand how desperate I was to see the match…or rather see Dravid), and considering the Sathyam policy of issuing tickets was followed here also (refer previous posts), did not have much of a problem managing to get 12 tickets! So on Sunday, the fifth day of the test between India & South Africa, a gang of 13 people from MSE entered the Kotturpuram MRTS terminal for a ticket to ride! Chepauk was shining in all its glory (it was sunny too), filled will cricket crazy masses who turned up in thousands inspite of the match heading for a draw and knowing that a boring day of cricket was on the cards.

The MSE gang, fully equipped with all possible sound producing equipments, chart paper, pens and what not tried their level best in the first few hours to try to catch the cameraman eyes so as to be on TV. Alas! He seemed to be more interested in actresses and the wives of the players. No air space for the normal folks like us. By that time, we had seen who and where all the player were (and more importantly I had seen Dravid), Kumble,Sreeshant and of course Dhoni being the easier ones to spot. Tendulkar not being on the pitch was a little disappointing. We were sitting right below the Press Box, so could see the likes of Rameez Raja, Sivarama Krishnan, Kepler Wessels and Arun Lal. One of our juniors had gotten lunch, so the stomach was also satisfied. After lunch, the boredom of the match got to us. Even me. I guess there is a limit to how much you can stare at a particular someones backside! (Considering he fields in the slips, and we were sitting a little right and behind of the batsman).

Luckily that match was declared over by both captains before the stipulated time. So did not have to suffer from the embarrassment of actually falling asleep. Could not see the presentation as it was not facing our stands and could not hear anything also. Tiredly we all trooped back to hostel, with hungry stomachs, but with contentment of having seen India play. Dosas and bondas at Sree Krishna Bhavan, lay to rest that hunger, and the day was complete!

Things to come!

Have been neglecting my blog!

Last month in MSE. Been doin a lot of things...

So hold on...will soon blog about the cricket match, my leg, McDonalds, Prague and the farewell.

Later!

Presentations!

Should be banned...

Stella & Sathyam

Went to Sathyam today after a really long time. It felt nice! Truth be told, I had been feeling weirdly guilty for ditching Sathyam and going mostly to INOX. After coming to MSE, INOX had been a more preffered cinema destination since there is a direct bus that goes from the Kottur Junction. The extra bucks you spent on the INOX tickets turned out to be lesser than the cash you would spend on auto if you went to Sathyam!

The situation is made worse since only I seem to have a staunch dislike for INOX. So i inevitably end up in INOX. INOX; the seats are weird, the picture quality is bad and the sounds give you a headache. The one good thing is that the food counters dont tempt you so much!

I guess I like Sathyam more so because of the fond memories it brings. When I was in Stella, Sathyam was the only muliplex around which played English movies and it was also only a fifteen minute walk from Stella.

Let me just tell you about an ordinary weekend at Stella hostel. You go to Sathyam immediately after breakfast ( i usually sleep late on weekends so breakfast was skipped) , the normal ticket counters have not opened yet mind you. You go back to near the parking lot (ignoring stares from the sweepers thinking about how jobless we were to come so early) and then wait near the 10 buck counter!

The 10 buck counter! Now called the Budget counter... Where you derive the biggest advantage courtesy of being a girl. ( Tickets are sold first to the girls) and a couple of "Please Anna " thrown in works wonders when you want extra tickets ( Sathyam had this policy of 'one ticket per person' and there will always be some amongst us who would have chosen the exact time the counter opened to go grab a bite). There is also the small concern of turning down all the guys who ask us to buy tickets for them since the guys queue is oh so long!

So we got the tickets. Now comes the worst part. The waiting ( The 10 buck counter opens 1-2 hrs before the show and if its a new Hindi movie then 30 min before). Nobody will have any money to go elsewhere, so the only option is to plop down in front of Sathyam with Sudoku or the Guardian Crossword or a book or catch up with some gossip!

So the movie begins, after a long torturous session of silk saree and jewellery ads (the bad thing about going to cinema theatres in Chennai), and you are sitting in the front (the first three rows from the screen) on hard as rock chairs (no cushions or padding). The weirdest thing was that whenever we did go for big money tickets (anything other that 10 buck), we ended up with headaches and backaches!

The intermission time- go outside and get tickets for the new movie (timed perfectly to begin when this one ended) and grab a puff (lunch). Movie gets over and the second movie starts.

The second movie would usually end by 5:30 or so. Critically analyse the movie on the walk back to Stella. Get back before Curfew (6:00) and even if you are a little late a couple of "Please Anna" again usually does the trick. Sit on the grass/ground under the open sky and surrounded by trees and the beauty of the campus strikes you. Perfect time to catch up with everyone and everything that happened over the week. Crib about how Stella is a jail and how nice it would be in a Co-Ed college!

Lazy weekends...not a worry in the world!

Arbit Ramblings

Guys dont understand girls...

Girls dont understand why guys dont understand girls...

Where the rain is born

Chennai has been experiencing a sudden bout of summer rains, courtesy a depression in the surrounding sea ( no...i have not been doing the rain dance). These rains got me thinking about how it used to be while growing up in Kerala...where the rain is born!

The onset of the monsoons in Kerala was characterised by the reopening of schools after the summer vacation. The roads would be painted with the picture of kids;wearing their new uniforms, carrying their new school bags and displaying their new umbrellas ( the mallus will remember the ad for Poppy Umbrellas which went 'puthiya uddippu puthiya bagge pinne ende puthiya Poppy Kuda! ). The school bus would inevitably be late, the self will be drenched by the time you reach school, and the shoes...actually lets not go there!

All this would not really matter, when you consider the joy you feel sitting in the last bench, looking outside the window at the trees swaying silhouetted against the grey black clouds, and the spray of the rains if you get too close to the window, wondering when school would get over so that you could go play in the rain.

Monsoons in Kerala; the thunderous sound of the approaching rains, the joyful croaking of the frogs, the shrill calls of the birds, the colour of the turbulent seas, the fragrance of water on grass and the million shades of green that the rains leave you with.

Chennai monsoon are quite the scene. One year there is hardly any rainfall and the next year the place is flooded. Going out in the rains in Chennai is quite depressing. It brings to surface all the stink and the rot of the city. Just picture walking around in T Nagar when it is raining. The funny thing about that is that the place is crowded inspite of the rain! Maybe it's because I have added some years to my life, but you cant spontaneously go out in the rain, without thinking in the back of your head about falling sick, washing yourself with dettol...You rather stay in your room, cuddle up under the covers, read a good book or watch a nice movie. Hot Chocolate also!

I quite prefer sunshine in Chennai. The rains over here depress me after a point of time.

But the rains in Kerala, they are quite the experience!

If only...

The Beach!

Its close to midnight on a friday. While most of the people(the normal ones) are tucked away under the bed sheets and caught in the thores of the dream world, 13 people are at the beach. Elliots Beach, Chennai.

13 people. 12 final year post grad students and one senior.

13 people. 10 boys and three girls.

13 people. All above 21 and all adults.

Standing on the sea shore, building sand castles and playing catch.

Collapsing on the sands in exhaustion and laughter.

And then you realise...all is right in this world!

Under the stars...

The past few nights, there had been no power supply in hostel, which invariably meant the inmates would be outside sitting on the pathways, under the starry sky, and indulging in conversation.

Conversation...

When people talk, randomly, and you never know where your words will end up and what mark they might leave. Conversation in this sense has a great deal of power. The power to open ones mind and thought process to new things and also to look at things in a new perspective. In short it is about people and their ideas.

For a person like me, who is not really comfortable conversing to a large extent, the past few days have been quite magical. In retrospect, most of my memorable moments in MSE have had to with conversing with people, under the blanket of the stars and the planes, in the oddest of hours. The topics of conversation have ranged from environmental issues to behavioral economics to the The Sound of Music, to your first car, tennis...

Conversation is i guess the only way to actually get to know a person. Its tough to get close and comfortable with a person, if you cant carry a conversation. Even if you don't spend all your time talking, you need to know that you can talk to that person.

So with the risk of sounding like a hypocrite...i would implore the people to...well...talk!!!

On the road...

Got my driver learner license today. Yay!

It aint fair

Went for tennis after a four day break. The coach was in a yapping mood. In the midst of all the tamil filmdom gossip he was sharing, he said 1) he could not see much improvement in my tennis and 2) shyness is a bane.

Played for two hours in the hot sun. Came back. Breakfast had gotten over. It was poori.

Have to go see the AO and get a cheque done.

Have to go see the guide, have not done anything remotely conected to dissertation in the past weeks.

Have class at one thirty.

Want to feel better. Dont know how.

Reality!

Doubts

Companionship

Alternative Perspectives

The naked truth

Innocence

Mondays!

Endless days of toil and tension culminated that Friday of Feb 22, when Arthiki 08 took place. The weeked spent recovering the accumulated sleep deficits. It's Monday. Life is back to its routine of classes and assessments. A boring class right at 1330 hrs. Monday blues in all its glory!

Contrast

My life in college and grad school has been quite the contrast. My alma mater Stella Maris College is a 60 yr old institution, and over 3000 students study there. My current place of study, Madras School of Economics, is a young 10 yr old institution with a little more than 100 students.

I got lost in Stella. I was very unsure of myself there, and the only reason i survived was because of hostel life. Staying in Stella hostel was quite the experience. Curfew of 1800 hrs, managing to charge cell phones inspite of having no plug points in hostel, lights off at 2230 hrs, incredible daily advices and lectures from the innumerable nuns around, the sneaking around in silence at midnight to celebrate a bday, and of course the list of mad and crazy bunch of girls who i met there and who are now my bestest of friends. Life at Stella was all about spending the whole day at Sathyam, watching back to back movies, going to Fruit Shop on Greams Road and yet never managing never to spend more than 100 bucks! In short life at Stella, was crazy yet oh so simple

MSE helped me discover myself and all what i could do. MSE was at first a shock. The freedom you are allowed was disarming, and the maturity that is required to survive and enjoy this place was scary. The people i have met...the relationships formed and the relationships broken...its been quite the ride, complicated as can be, but a great learning experience.

I have three or so months remaining at MSE. I do not even want to think about what is going to happen after I leave MSE. Maybe I will look back then and feel that life at MSE was oh so simple!

The sound of silence

Being an introvert is painful. The general public never seem to understand how hard it is for one to talk and that the words seem to come more easily when putting pen on paper. A generally quiet person carries a aura of intrigue and mystery around him as one is never sure what is going on in his head. To those close to him, this adds to the charm of the person, and is not that big an issue. But mostly, being quiet, results in a lot of misunderstanding. Quietness can be considered as a sign of dumbness, nonchalance or acting superior (not worth talking to). Even amongst your good friends, a quiet person is bound to cause confusion and concern.

Concern...

It is hard for an introvert to talk things out and release ones tension and burden. Not only is it hard, but in most of the cases you don't really want to talk it out. Even to your closest of friends. This most of the times puts them off, but the simple truth is that it has all to do with you and nothing to do with them. Since you don't talk , you need a release. Crying is a good way of letting out steam. Crying does not necessarily mean that you are hurting. It just helps you clear your head, and you end up feeling better. Sudden bouts of crying surely shocks a lot of people. I guess this shock stems out of their concern.

Quiet people are usually good listeners and generally have an open mind. I guess this redeems them a bit. Just imagine the noise created if all the world was filled with the yapping people!!!

Jokes apart...the truth of the matter is relationships become much harder to have and maintain if you are an introvert. There needs to be a lot of understanding and underlying respect. Trust plays a very significant role.

So the question is...will you ever trust a quiet person?

Birthdays

What is it about singing Happy Birthday that brings out the shyness in all of us. It is understandable that the birthday person gets embarassed a little, but why the singers? Three years in college and two years in grad school and i have never seen my friends singing unabashedly. Quite shocking at first, but it was always the sisters and nuns in college who got into the spirit of singing and always managed to sing without any inhibitions, while the rest of us will either be looking down or glancing left and right and mumbling the song.

The choices we make...

What determines the choices we make? One might say it is affected by family, friends, colleagues, the environment and so on. But essentially it boils down to two factors, your heart and mind. Quite often we do a lot of things which may not make much sense and even though you are fully aware of the nonsensicality of it, you still end up doing it. This is where the heart comes into play, you do it because you want to do it and feel like doing it. Full Stop.

I can spend hours looking at and admiring planes as they fly over your head, ships as they sleath solitarily in the middle of the ocean, trains as they puff their way over the bridges, and a sleek dark couloured car making its way through the mounatins. I can also spend hours looking at and admiring the birds and animals and fishes as they do the work nature has assigned. Both fill me with a sense of contenment and serenity.

So how does one react when your mind tells you that these mordern modes of transporation are killing nature, little by little, when you also fully aware that growth and development might not have been possible without tchnological advancement. Therin lies the tradeoff. The need to strike a balance.

Striking a balance...easier said than done, especially when the point of balnce is very personal and may even be quite inane. It is hard to look at life black and white, when all you see around you are the greys.

So life is basically not for making choices. It is just to live. When you reach that point where your heart and mind merge and you are in perfect equilibrium, then you know you have lived your life.

I want to buy a car. Lack of purchasing power and a certain thing called drivers license prevents me from doing so. But when I can, I wonder whether i will buy a Honda Civic or a Toyota Prius... or the Honda Civic Hybrid.