This passage...

It's been just over two years since I last wrote here... so a considerable water has passed under the proverbial bridge, and as I await a dissertation chapter review, a few taps on this electro-static touch pad - finds me here.

A lot has transpired in the last two years: A couple of trips back home, family matters, attempt at a possible hitch, relocated friends,friends lost, change of address (two), and last but not the least - actual sighting of the light at the end of this academic tunnel. However, the fact that I can't get myself to is this passage of time. The catalyzing event that lead me here was an email I sent out to a good friend after a passage of more than 2.5 years!

We are taught from the get go about the value of this time and how it cannot be recovered and what not... However, what NO one attempts to divulge is - how to deal with this passage ? Is there a preset form of autonomous reaction we are supposed to undergo, when the sudden realization hits us ? I am going to try and put together a "Users Manual" for the same... and towards that end, while I put together the same, comments and input are invited from anyone who may want to contribute to the same.

To quote Seneca: "Veritum dies aperit" (Time discovers the truth).

I just feel, this time around - prudence dictates haste.

Cheers!

That lip-stick !

It’s roughly eleven forty five (which means that 15 minutes from now) yet another morning belonging to my eclectic existence will depart hand in hand with a bit of my being to dissolve in the fog that last evening was. The evening in question commenced around nine-thirty subsequent to my arrival at a local bar followed by the familiar embrace of a pint of their local finest! A hard day was about to dissolve along with the rising di-oxide bubbles and (hopefully) good and meaningless banter.

And then the almighty laughed!

I believe my departure was stamped around mid-night and somewhere in the said time line, in order to defend (to be read as re-hash) a point I had made earlier, a statement involving some unfortunate combination of Lip-stick, lump of cow dung, her appearance, etc. escaped the black hole that my oral cavity is! In my defense, the offending statement was driven ONLY by genuine concern for the said colleague (which even she agrees to).
Unfortunately, she ended up rather offended and all that (maybe rightfully so) and thereafter there was nothing I could say that was presently acceptable to her or others. Anyway – to abbreviate the pain in this story, a well researched course on public speaking and basic sensitivity to ladies' sentiments etcetera followed. I sat there, gallantly, took it all in, even braved a coat of the said lip-stick and then legged it to the nearest exit without much regard to finesse after that.

On the way back home, having cranked up my gassed up vehicle and my aerated brain and engaging both in the required gears, I tried to see the reason behind my delightful evening. I agree that the apart from the gender there are quite a few difference between a man and a woman. I can, at a purely acoustic or basic plane agree that the statement might have packed more than the required wallop and could have been delivered in better “taste”. However, what confounded self was that since when did the underlying meaning and thoughts got relegated to the back seat? It’s a dangerous slope and here is why…

<<Analytical reasoning>>
Every other person apart from ourselves can be interpreted as a collection of attributes that we prioritize in our heads, which alters their proximity in our personal space. One of these attributes is “meaning”. If we prioritize meaning over the surface, transparency will follow.

Otherwise, at best one can hope for is selective familiarity!

<<slightly human reasoning>>
Nothing says it better than what was said by Martin Luther King Jr. …
“In the End, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”

Either way, lessons learnt are:

• Silence really is golden!
• Next time, drink alone! (spare your friends…)
• A "light" brew after Bass, just does not cut it.
• Some lessons will have to be learnt the hard way!

So much food for thought and all this for $20.00 (including tip, and taxes …)

Hmmm….could have been worse.

-A

This pursuit.

My attention was recently directed to what Franz Kafka once penned (and incidentally also occupies a stable berth in my electronic mail signature) – “By believing passionately in something, we create it. The non-existent is whatever we have not sufficiently desired”. Quite frankly, despite the acute reservations and sentiments harbored by a significant chunk of humanity pertaining to its author, self on occasions (totaling more than one) has dissolved in the inherent rightness of these lines.

Recent events and the ensuing fallout from the same, has created a very riddling state of being for me and now, much to my own dismay, I find myself trying to justify the absolute in the said claim by Mr. Kafka (which was a very comfortable blanket that I had wrapped myself in). My primary stumbling in the aforementioned qualification is trying to figure out, whether the scattered desires in my possession are even perceptible or to be slightly generic – is every desire (complemented with the suitable degree of passionate pursuit) reachable ?

Digging deeper, it turns out – that all our pursuits are somehow knotted with some second being – which more often than not, presents a reasonably respectable degree of challenge in unthreading the same. Quite often than not, all the rationality and the supporting structure of “logic” and all that is unfounded by one moment of realization. In one instant we find ourselves pursuing a break in the thread – and after that, remains can only last for so long. Silly and terribly naïve (despite my best attempts at re-affirmation to the contrary) that I am, I find that I didn’t even drop the breadcrumbs along the way.

And this seems to me – is fairly applicable; whether what I have been wishing and wanting for my own existence or those who are my own building block. They say, hoping against hope is foolish and more often than not, a tragically fine symptom of immaturity and the associated dribbles. Nevertheless, one thing is perfectly apparent – if passionate pursuit is to be attempted, a certain instances of such symptoms should be present in the being. That seems to be the price for sign of life ! (if only a sign)

So has the thread snapped – possibly so. Do I feel wary – most definitely so. Am I changing my loyalty to what one particular Austrian said… not presently.

and I AM smiling !

-A

Only a woman...

A significant volume of water has flowed under the proverbial bridge since I last managed to expunge some of my thoughts out of my system. Nevertheless, so much has transpired in the interim period that a significant portion of my own belief in the good and commonsense of people near and dear to me has also drowned in the waters mentioned above. The last couple of months have definitely left me rattled and what not – and tempting as it might be for my alter-self to pour it all out here – till I lose this valiant battle, I am going to refrain from doing so.

Nevertheless, as is an unspoken rule of life in general – a certain degree of balance is inevitable (irrespective of the domain we refer to). So without allowing for any tangents, here is what happened that recently caused me to revisit some old sentiments and – all in caused an inversion of the natural state of face of self (without trying to put too fine a point to it!)

A few weeks back – one of my rather dear colleagues stopped by my lavish office (a term, I admit is being used with very high degree of extrapolation). Now my desk is a fairly ordinary fare inhabited by an assortment of books, disks etc. Furthermore, being an individual who prioritizes the latent cleanliness over the cosmetic (read that as soul over body) and can back this belief with some (rather lead laden) points; I don’t really make any bones about its state upon being critiqued by mere mortals. Anyway, my friend/colleague visited me for some purpose that was probably pegged at two-thirds official and rising, when I had to depart for some reason that is clearly fogged right now.

Of course since she was already researching some online material, any sense of guilt that may arise of conventional civilities and what not – rapidly diminished, as I legged it out of there. Upon my return, I found one missing friend and a desk that had been reorganized. There were distinct signs of a massive cleanliness drive involving disposal of extraneous object, rearrangement of objects and all in all – restoration of a work desk to what it probably looks like (when inhabited by “regular/sane” individuals) on a given day. Needless to mention, I was left with a sufficiently large amounts of gratitude, but more importantly – what came to my mind was “only a woman…” However, I didn’t say anything. Nevertheless it did get me thinking about something very elemental that is so distinct about a girl/woman.

I have tried several avenues trying to pin this down and having accrued sufficient mileage on said avenues (also involving countless extraction from verbal graves I have managed to trip into along the way), I think I see it now and here it is….The very constitution of a woman speaks out sacrifice and before I disintegrate in the myriad world of clichés here is a qualifier to the same. At its very crux – there has to be something very different (apart from the gender and other trivial stuff) that is different between a man and a woman to have a desire to give. Think about it – a woman endures pain, gives the birth, and then eventually manages to live with the separation from her child that is almost inevitable. Be it a mother left behind some sliding doors, or a woman having to give up a child at birth. And it’s not just that ability to do it – it’s the willingness to do it for a greater good that is so marvelous.

Stepping back – my friend didn’t have ABSOLUTELY any need/obligation/requirement to clean up my desk. But she did it. Of course one possible (and rather tantalizingly inviting at that) reason would be that in order to actually work at that desk, she HAD to clean it….but that despite having a rather disturbing ring of truth to it – is preceded by what I have mentioned above. It’s that grass-root level ability to just do something that is so ordinary in a very extraordinary manner, with minimal fuss and even lesser expectations that is so delicious to behold.

I have had the benefit of having been surrounded by fantastic women so far in my life (and much as it may benefit my image, not to qualify this statement), I am STILL single. That said, some time back ( and this is what I was transported back to), I realized that it’s very easy to over-expect and consequently – express an opinion about women, but it’s not very easy to be a working lady and then come home every day and religiously put food on the table and I am guilty of this offense too. I realized my mistake the day I became aware of my own limitations (of course the list being rather long on that, is still being read to me by that invisible alter self).

I had to stop for a couple of days at this point while putting all this down – because I honestly felt that there was some thing that was not being to put down. Finally I am giving up. Why – there is something ethereal about a feeling that one can’t write about. It remains exclusive. It haunts, delights, tickles and mostly – keeps that smile within reach of all of us (which is definitely something I can use, when quite a few around me are beyond my ability to reach out to).

-A

March,28/2005

What i heard....

Not that I am particularly proud to admit this, nor does this reflect highly upon the quality or the quantity of my social endeavors, a significant percentage of the my daily 24 hours used to dissipate in the form of bits and bytes, and recently having acquired (by way of actually puncturing that financial envelop, I live in), a notebook, that percentage is almost all set to hit the one hundred mark. Anyway, some where in this entire cycle of existence, I was introduced to a screen saver that apart from its brilliant visual content – was thoroughly complemented by some very meaningful and fitting lines. And one such was – “It’s not what you look, it’s what you see”.

Apart from the fact that the statement in itself was very simple and appealing, what lead me to this entry on this blog was – “how many such explanations we encounter in our daily lives and how many we tend to ignore. The beauty of language is that (I am sure my linguistic friend will have a field day skinning me on this), it provides a medium that we are free to extrapolate, and mutilate to suit our requirement and convenience. However, what is equally brilliant (in it’s variety) is the width of the spectrum of human interpretation of what may seem to be identical statements.

Sure it leads to variety and yes variety may seem to be the spice of life and all that, however sometimes it’s this unique sense of interpretation that keeps us on our toes – while interacting with others and chasing that elusive truth, that illusive interpretation which ringing so true cuts across all lines, connecting one interpretation/ one viewer to another…maybe that sense of “balance” if you will.

To most of us, similarity between hear and listen might be apparent (given the fact that the required proximity to English, for such a comprehension is not particularly close). However, when someone says “You might hear all day – what matters is only what you heard”, it’s then that our own skills kick in. It’s then we realize that the additional dimension to that seemingly linear statement is where the actual matter of the statement resides.

The reason why all this seems significant to me is that it gives me relief to realize that I am not completely out of the comprehension loop. The comfort of this knowledge allows me to get a better understanding of all the sources of noise that may exist while I communicate with someone else and they don’t agree with what I hope they would hear.

Something towards this cropped up recently, during my conversation with a friend of mine (who is visually and intellectually superior than I am), and I suspect that he might have mistook my genuine attempts to express my “surprise” as my condescension and THAT matters to me (more about what happened – some other time).

I guess, all I am trying to say is that the beauty of a language is not defined by the preset linguistic acreage, it’s the individual perceptive extension of the same, that allows us to uniquely translate out impressions. To put it in another way, I have written this small passage, but what will matter is what one reads in it.

Dec. 3, 2004

My reasons…

My previous post about certain reservation I harbored pertaining to certain events, occasions etc. did not receive many glances (of course those who know me will vouch towards the applicability of such a phenomenon towards me on a whole – but I digress…); however, those who did, take a look at it were very gracious to leave their comments towards the same. Having eagerly masticated all of them – I was struck by one particularly well thought out opinion from an anonymous reader.

She mentioned her experience about – the sense of (and this is my interpretation resulting from a severely abused and highly caffeinated excuse of a brain) – disappointment caused by the lack of another individuals’ lack of curiosity to learn about her. His utter dissolution of interest in reasons behind what she believed and more importantly, why she subscribes to those beliefs. Conversely, equally discouraging to her was his tight guard about his own beliefs that were – evidently beyond question.

Ok! Now there are two very important reasons – that are guiding my fingers across the keyboard at this early hour of a Tuesday. The first one being sincere gratitude to the lady – who was kind enough to share her views. We may not find that significant – given that people post their comments across the globe – 24/7. However, considering that a completely different and unknown person has selflessly spent her time (which incidentally is the most precious commodity we all posses), to respond to something I had to say – so that I could benefit from the same, well – the gravity of the whole starts taking its toll, till we are engulfed with the respect such acts deserve.

The second reason is guilt.

Why? Since I feel that there are certain aspects, or beliefs that I adhere to, that I don’t believe I am sufficiently qualified to examine the reasons thereof. Mostly – such beliefs are diminishing with time – however that still does not preclude me from thinking about the same and occasionally being blind-sighted by them as well. Of course, I am not saying that the individual, the reader described was perfect or the most appropriate in his conduction or that being self involved is the way out.

Passage through each span of 24 hours, there are numerous occasions, when we are called upon our reasoning abilities to justify some of our opinions. Opinions and beliefs, that we identify with – and occasionally it’s very hard to do the same; reason being that we mature (and I use the term with caution) in an environment where a contradiction to that particular dictum was non-existent. Logic and overall subscription to other facts of life would dictate that upon removal from such an environment would ignite in us, a desire to seek the alternative! And as I have felt so far, it’s easier said than done. The biggest hurdle being our sense of convenience and the fear, of losing the calm. Sometimes, it seems better to hold on to what we have, and what we grew up with (it having weathered the tests of time), that holes in such a fabric do not bother us. The possibility of living with the nuances of what we know seems a whole lot easier than attempting to look for the alternative and then wonder about its implications. For some, the fall out of such a search have implications that are much further in their reach than bargained for. I know that such sentiments reek of a hint of escapism – and possibly so – nevertheless, at certain times it just seems the exit to take.

The problem, arises when we take such an exit once too often. Then that just speaks about out inherent ability to question ourselves – which is the foundation for improvement.

Anyway – I feel I have blabbered sufficiently more than I should have. Somehow we all have the uncanny ability to find a good in almost every event – in retrospect, but that should not cloud our present. I know that. Do I practice it faithfully…?

So… let’s talk about the weather.

That process....

"..and what would a scone be?" is not particularly high on the lists of appropriate questions that one can ejaculate - upon being queried by an exceedingly attractive young lady in possession of extremely blue eyes and other appreciable attributes – behind the counter at a coffee shop – "whether I would like to try one of their fresh scones ? "

Of course, in my defense – genuine ignorance to such eatables and then some – might help in re-establishing some sense of validity of the sun, the moon and basic life on the whole for the inquirer – however there is more to such events involving me than meets the casual eye (apart from the myopic variety – in my possession). On a more recent note – I was involved in a setup that provided for a terribly enticing opportunity to enjoy a lunch aboard cruise ship for self and other colleagues.

Upon – my withdrawal from the same, in what may be readily attested as being "swift" by those who know me; I was queried by a friend – who definitely means terribly well – about the reasons for the same. And that is when everything fell apart. I don’t believe I did the kind of a job explaining the same – which would earn a passing grade in any decent evaluation. Thereupon – I write this in an attempt to retry the explanation process in the hope that written words might seem more coherent than those I uttered earlier.

Let me start out by explaining certain things that I am inherently not comfortable romancing: Though the list is rather detailed – a few gems from the same are – formal attire – especially a suit, museum trips, cruises, etc.

You see – process is a remarkable thing; applicable everywhere, yet, almost invisible to the casual audience. Somewhere in that lies the ability to for us to grow and learn and this is how I see it:

We can chance – what we may or may not have attempted in the past, despite our reservations, only if we can place ourselves planted in some mental image of the scenario in question. For the most part, the natural process of succumbing to curiosity is sufficient in ensuring that we are able to overcome most of our reservations. However – on certain occasions, the inherent reservation is so elemental in nature that it leads to a serious conflict regarding our perception of our own selves.

Case in point – let me sight something else that was suggested to me by a very good friend of mine. "Opera"

Now, I have been known on occasions to valiantly crush the sense of dread and plunge head-along in endeavors of similar flavor – however, this was not to be so in this case. Given my back ground – that being rather bourgeois, and highly bland, the first and foremost hurdle that I am faced subsequent to such suggestions is – how to conduct myself? Clearly mimicking the actors in "real time" is out of the question and so is whistling at opportune moments. Obviously that is apparent, however - what is not so apparent to me is how to appreciate the performance without understanding even a singular syllable therein.

Better and additionally qualified individuals would suggest that – inculcation of such faculties are imperative towards an overall well rounded and symmetrically proportionate personality development and all that. I guess it trickles down to the basic fear of embarrassment (immaterial is the fact that I should be immune to such sentiments given my knack for steering myself towards embarrassing moments with disturbing deftness and frequency). To top this point off rather sufficiently is – what I feel probably a sense of guilt that I am trying to be someone I am not. Having been brought up in a developing nation – where bottled water finds place in the things of luxury – so forth, I guess there was no time to sit back and understand and appreciate finesse' oozing out of a performance rendered in an alien language.

I do stand corrected on several issues that I didn’t realize growing up, and I am also embarrassed to admit that the above mentioned sense of guilt no longer bothers me about those I have succumbed to.

There is a lot more I believe that I have left to say – and somehow coherence of thought for which remains – escapes me now. I attempted to pen down my reasons at walking away from the some very sincere suggestions from people who mean a lot to me – and the ensuing feeling of guilt at not being able to explain them exactly why, is the motivation today.

Someday – who knows I might even try visiting a restaurant where a reservation is necessary – till then I hope all my friends and people who matter to me – would continue to indulge my thorough ignorance.

A.M