Of recoil and grace
June 2008: Late goodbye. A new ‘home’. New hopes and aspirations. Yet, a sense of being resigned to fate.
July 2008: Turns out home isn’t meant to be what it means. Strangely, a seemingly post-apocalyptic wasteland will have to suffice.
June 2009: An acceptance of sorts. Words to expression. All undone thanks to a certain unforeseeable event.
July 2009: Doubt. Questions v. Answers. Impulse. The Overture.
June 2010: The fire in the smoke. A ‘perfect’ circle. The theory is still just theory.
At around the same time last year, I was rather satisfied. This hadn’t happened in a long time. A visit from an old friend had kept me in check for I was on the verge of tearing things apart. My mind was clouded with thoughts, a little too much perhaps. That resulted in the creation of this blog, something to which I haven’t given much importance over the last two and a half months. My diary too has been in a similar state of neglect. Anyway, this period of calm last year was something that was supposed to help me as I would enter the second year of law school, something which I had to gear myself up for. However, a single incident changed all that. A world of ignorance, for the lack of a better term, came crashing down on me just a week before I returned to Gandhinagar. And to think that I had to spend that last week hiding gloom and having to appear to be in the best of spirits for the people around me. The return to Gandhinagar wasn’t very different either, but then I had to make it different, something to which I gave my all.
I was at a stage when I had to hide behind a veil, trying to find out what was it that was actually in my head. Questions, questions. If only some part of me could pop up and press the buzzer. But alas, I had no answers. All of a sudden, a thought that changed everything crept in. It was very indirect yet had a sense of finality associated with it. What it resulted in was an impulsive act that had to be done. There were glitches but I don’t think there are any regrets, like seriously.
Then came a time when giving shelter almost gave a major diversion away. As a defence mechanism, I had to admit to something which wasn’t true. That, however, didn’t stop me from trying to repeat it later. Thankfully, there was no need for the replay to run for me. All this as new set was formed. It was a set which gave out a feeling of completeness. Every element within was familiar, all but one. Prominent elements on the outside were just there, still given way more than necessary. I returned home a tad satisfied for a change, something which helped the mind a lot.
The New Year’s coming meant a return to Gandhinagar. This time, fate had more in store, things that couldn’t have been thought of by me at an earlier time. A new beginning for certain elements within resulted in too many unnecessary discussions. I, for one, had to agree, yet disagree. But then the sluggishness needed to be scripted out, and that was done, to no avail. The drama was yet to begin as things were to turn on their on their head. It all started with a few brief moments. Suddenly, the moments were becoming longer. Then just when there was a massive hullabaloo, I realised that something strange was happening. I had been struck by elemental oddness. It was a bolt from the blue. While it certainly was weird, I felt happy for absolutely no reason. I must admit that I had never felt this good about myself, ever. It was unbelievable. Yet, it was happening. And I was letting it happen.
Simultaneously, elementary unity was running on animal instinct, upsetting the established order, a fact that was conveniently overlooked. It was all about being there, yet not being there. It wasn’t wrong, it was completely elemental. We obviously can’t choose to ignore something elemental. For the ones that feel it the most, it is sinful. Sadly, when there is a disintegration of an institution, there are always reactions, which, by the way, are also elemental. But then where there is chaos, the elemental order can seldom prevail. These lead to more reactions which are trivially unhealthy. Impulsiveness from the outside affects the balance, cutting that fabric that should survive despite the ruins, something which stays imprinted in the mind.
Looking at conditions on the outside, there always is a sense of delicate calm. The instinct is dark but is deeply connected to happiness, something which is fair, at least on the face of it. Then there is the ultimate irony, that of continuity, which always has two sides, thanks to the phenomenon of interference being used to gather, without any rhyme or reason. Because of all this, there is a constant need for further enclosing the various chambers within, irrespective of what the consequences are. There always are casualties, good and bad. Consequence, you see, doesn’t occur inside, but outside. From inside, you can watch the world devoured in its pain.
The theory of cause and effect is always unfair and biased. That ought to change, now more than ever. Power should always be handled responsibly. A dream can’t be raised in the same place in which it was conceived, despite resistance from within. But then, logic isn’t always synonymous with the nuances of human nature. There is nothing wrong with hoping that the right thing will fall into the right place. There always is a thin line between chaos and order. A feeling of inevitability always results in the construction of one narrative or the other. Be it the losing battle of the conscious and the conscience, or the lie that tells the truth, these narratives are all a part of an implicit utopian dream, something which also explains impossibility and the pain that reminds. Castles made in the sand are bound to eventually melt into the sea, just like eggs can’t be unscrambled. All you can do is wonder as you wait for time to wait for you. Here I am, as I wonder about pain and time, and about memories; about the mystery of life and probably even how much of it can possibly remain. I wait. And I wonder.
Forum Non Conveniens: Now that, is twisted.
Lies. A web of lies. That is what I seem to be finding everywhere now. I have usually taken the help of lies to hide a bitter truth or for justifying certain actions. Of late, however, I have seen how lies have been uttered to me for exactly the same reason I use them and I am actually awestruck at how they have affected my thinking. Despite this I must insist that I have taken good care of myself.
Albert Camus once said that lying was “a beautiful twilight, which gives to each object its value.” Wasn’t he right in saying so? Why do most people believe that the truth is what matters the most? Sometimes it easier to figure things out from lies than from the truth. At least that is what I have learnt from numerous experiences, especially the more recent ones. It is often said that sometimes silence hints at the truth. If that is the case, then why not lie instead? What is the point causing anxiety by being silent or by ruining things by telling the truth? Sometimes I am forced to wish that my entire life was a lie. At least that would give me the power to believe that I didn’t act the way I have ever since I was born. I want the force to be with me.
Lies are said to be taboo when we are in our formative years. But haven’t we used lies for our own good at times. Let me make a comparison with the word ‘fuck’, which, in a way, is taboo too. The context in which we usually use this word is almost entirely different from its meaning as per the dictionary. ‘Fuck’ is all about sex and nothing about sex all at the same time. Most of our uses of this word hardly have anything to do with sex and yet the taboo is so strong that we tend to embrace the negative connotation!
I try to think about everything that is going on around me and it seems quite intriguing when I do so but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel about things. It is this feeling that makes things a little dull. The problem arises when what I think overlaps what I feel about. That is the time my memory starts playing games with me. Now, I seem to remember the dates of random events only because they hold a certain trivial importance in my life.
I can’t even begin to describe how, around five years back, at this time of the year, my state of mind was considerably volatile while a freak accident exactly two years back initiated a change within me, a change that has got me to a point of no-return. As I write this, it is as if all that has gone by in these five years occurred right now. This is probably because most of it is just pain, pain that helped me get a decent idea of many things that I was otherwise in a fix about. People think that my memory of trivial incidents is a little stupid. Quite surprisingly, I completely agree with them as this is one thing about me that I want to change but I haven’t been able to do that, at least not yet. That coupled with the fact that I’m having a ball.
In recent times I have unwittingly been sucked into a vortex of lies and this fact is slowly getting to my mind. This is one thing that I need to stop from happening as the logical consequences don’t look really good not only for me, but for many who are around me. There’s one thing that hasn’t changed much though and that is the fact that the answer is “blowin’ in the wind”, all one needs to do is look. You see, it is quite a long story.
“Life is a rainbow which also includes black.”
“He felt that his whole life was some kind of dream and he sometimes wondered whose it was and whether they were enjoying it.”
These are the reason that I have somehow been getting along with life. I have tried to be really honest to myself and the findings aren’t exactly things I should be proud of but then am I actually even bothered?
Random thoughts, media, links and some of my writings.
