Thursday, May 20, 2010


There was a time when you didn’t know what it was like to laugh. There was a time when you had to rely on chemicals to keep from killing yourself, or even worse, losing yourself. There were days when the chemicals didn’t really work. That was when you searched frantically for a friendly face, someone who could show you what it was to be human again, as you could remember it. This would be particularly difficult, given that you realize that you are going through the cycle that will end with you reverting back to staring at the post-it that reads “Lower your need for affiliation”, while the familiar playlist drowns out the knocks on the locked door.

And you find one. You start breaking down all the walls that you built, you start re-building the bridge to cross over to sanity. You know that it’s an exercise in futility…but you have been cursed with the wretched “virtue” of hope. You re-learn to trust, to feel and act like a socially acceptable human being would. You retell all the old stories and spend time together, watching movies and playing games. You defy the muffled voice at the back of your head that keeps shouting that there is no point of it all.

Somewhere along the way, in your latent insanity, you feel that your companionship maybe detrimental to the friend, and tell him so. You even go to the extent of letting go of the last few remnants of the shred of pride you have to make amends with people who forced you into the shell. You tell him that he needs to find better company, and hope (“Double Headshot!”) that he will see through the sham. You forget that sometimes, the price of wanting something is getting what you want. So, you learn you lesson, yet again. And you move on.

Then, you realize, in a single bubble of lucidity, that you called him “brother”, and that you meant it. That is when you start to bleed…

A Beautiful Stranger (?)

I was randomly clicking the "Next Blog" link and ended up at this.

I have absolutely no idea who this is, but I felt like sharing it because I don't think I have ever met anyone like this one. I think I'm in love, yet again. Just don't tell her please...I think she'll eat me for brunch.

Oh, one more thing...I'm confused about the "stranger" part because it seems like she's known me...since the beginning. It's rather unsettling, this feeling. Its dark and almost her (I think). I have never ever ever liked poetry. Until today.

Tuesday, May 18, 2010

Purple Musings

I sit in a purple cubicle. The sort of purple that a deep purple colored gift wrapper would turn to, if allowed to rot inside a cupboard for a long time. Or the purple of a melting blueberry ice-cream. I have a laptop provided by the company and a cubicle-mate from college. Nowadays, we stare at our laptop screens all day...just to produce the illusion of reading and comprehending the plethora of documents that explain what we maybe doing in the near future. That is because we are done reading and comprehending. Nobody notices the quotes from Sandman that I have stuck all around, which is good, lest they goad them to commit suicide. There doesn't seem to be anything else to do, mostly because I am not having anything close to an existential crisis...otherwise I would have entertained myself by complaining endlessly about everything to everyone and watch them cringe. Oh, only that I can’t help but feel ashamed that I have reduced all the highs in my life to single-lined bullet points to whore myself out as a corporate gimp…but I can’t complain about it yet, as I have only just started “working”. So, to sum it up, I'm bored.

We go to the 5th floor twice everyday for the beverages, and the lunch too is served there. I have stopped cribbing about the food after my stay in Surathkal...anything can beat the crap we used to get in Mysore Mess I or the Bombay Mess. But that's not to say that the food here isn't good. The junta are warm and friendly...the kind one would expect at in any IT company. But this isn’t an IT sweatshop. We have been intimated that we will be leaving in a month or so. That might be the reason why we aren't really socializing as we normally would have. The work is generally non-existent. The socializing and networking is restricted to only that can be done in person. So, to beat myself out of going into a coma, I decided to read the copious amount of verbal diarrhea that has been generated on the inter-web by some friends, and some other FOAFs.

To be honest, once in a while, I did come across some brilliant writing, and mostly, it was an enjoyable experience reading peoples’ rants. But there were a few times when I couldn’t help but stare at the screen with utter astonishment, wondering what possessed the author to write what he had posted. For instance, there is Yak’s work. It is like coming out of a cinema hall after watching American Psycho with a girl you want to marry…you don’t know whether to comment about the brilliant execution of the subject, or to express feigned disgust on the content. Not that you would meet your future wife while loafing through the blogosphere. But I don’t want to burn this bridge…not yet.

Generally, one thing that I noticed across the many blogs, barring a few, was a definite overflow of narcissism, which I realized was what blogging was about. Apparently, it came to be as: Web Log => We Blog => Blog. So, I guess I should just blog and stop yapping about how others are so stuck up with themselves. I have come to realize that maybe for many, narcissism is a survival mechanism, akin to self-deception. Oh, one more thing…apparently Freud said that people in love are humble because they have pawned their narcissism. Its time I redeemed it then, what with all the puskal badnekai avatar of love in my life.

So, from now on, it’s going to be “I may blog. Therefore I may be”.

Monday, May 17, 2010

The Dance of the Egos

ET Coming Through!, originally uploaded by arunsa4762.
"Yamini-2010" got off to a fiery start, what with all the atrib shrubbery behind the stage catching fire, and the "organizers" from IIMB showing utter disrespect to the artists in order to drub SPICMACAY. What a shame it was! Junta count on people from some select circles to be their leaders and show them the right way...but once you are a part of that circle, you come to realize the amount of hypocrisy that the self-centered bloated egos represent. Tch tch...give up.

This photo, I took when junta were trying to put out the fire in the afore-mentioned shrubbery. The fire-extinguishers were hauled in and the foam was all around, but strangely, not choking anybody. The program continued after this scare and the artists put on a brilliant show. I was looking forward to hearing E Gayathri play, and she, as always, didn't disappoint! Also, got a nice pic of Shambhavi Vaze, though I didn't like the dance too much...too much nakhra, I saaay! I would anyday put a Variya than taa ta ka ditu thom...Kkkkome man!