We have a choice. We either choose sad or we choose happy. Then after a while even these two options seem very superficial. What are we born for? Why do we exist in our respective spaces? We are and hence there has to be a cosmic reason for our state of ‘areness’. But then do we have the time or the inclination to find this reason…or for that matter the reason for this reason?
A wise man stated - get lost and remain lost. But what on earth would that achieve? And are we so non-materialistic and maya-free that we would want to give up on the pleasures and pain of life? No…we are not. Unless of course we are saints. (Fat chance, that) Maybe the trick is to remain in the material world, to remain in the matrix, but hold on to the idea of realness.
I heard a very fascinating thing one day – this swamiji asked all of us to look closely at a question mark and at an exclamation mark. The question mark is actually a twisted version of an exclamation mark and the exclamation mark is actually a straightened version of the question mark. He went on to enumerate that the minute a thought becomes a question it twists and turns and makes us all the more confused. And at one point it comes to a halt. But the instant it becomes a wonder it gives rise to more wondering thoughts and it progresses to heights that we never thought we could reach.
For me, personally, it has been a terrible year. Mostly lows and only one high. The stops in between were inconsequential, to say the least. This is not a “I am going to be this next year” or “I am going to do that next year” kind of post. It is just a wondering ponder.
We’ve all seen weird stuff happening in our country. Some of us have also seen weird stuff happening in our personal lives. Many of us wanted to concede. Many of us might have conceded. Yet we go on. Because essentially we have no choice but to continue going on. The hidden factor, though, remains that it is up to us to decide on HOW we want to go on.
Over and out!
PS: Phew! Sitting in Padmasana can be painful!
Sunday, December 28, 2008
Friday, December 26, 2008
The Identification of Identity
I am Al-Kahira, the conqueror of nonsense and flowers.
I am grateful for my stupidity, admitted easily, yet I am
concerned with specific details of style as I sit here in rags.
By circumstance and not by choice this shrub has blossomed:
by choice and not by circumstance this life has been kept
plain.
I made an effort and found stuff to ignore, leave rusty things
unstruck.
I neglect the spectacular and overlook the apparently
important with deliberation.
I’ve waited aeons for the reversal of my interests: Now life
has become the joke and sweetness and hilarity of my own
thoughts have turned into a fascination for me.
No matter what anyone tells you: I do not belong to any
creed or sect, culture or race, nor to any period in history.
My only qualification is the age of my soul: I own three
palaces of quiet pre-dawn moon sound.
Humiliation is my clothing that I wear to sit and bark with the
dogs. I disconnect like dusk and most likely no one will bring
flowers to my grave.
I am ardent without deed and I am information zero,
unimportant iridescent: Grand Palace of Mercy.
Till now I stayed in one place not avoiding you:
now that the traditions are beginning to dissolve, I
put on my wintercoat and walk away.
Business done.
My contemporaries have declared society to be the central
item and are discussing things of importance as
I am speaking to you now.
As my mother taught me to, I keep to myself a lot.
I am the lover of trees, found worthy of loneliness.
I could be the postman, the milkman, the sick person,
the transvestite.
It takes one to recognize one…
I am the unknown dervish.
St.Scribbler identifies himself with this statement drop-down...and i was mentioning to him that if ever there was a female counterpart to this, i would love to be that (maybe i am, maybe i am not). He is a philosopher and a saint in his own rights apart from being one of the best unpublished writers i've ever read. I got this beautiful piece of literature from him and felt that the poignancy that it is suffused with, like an intoxicating perfume, is so pure and raw. There is also this sufi, off beatish, mystic, vagabondish aura that surrounds it.
Nice. Definitely.
I am grateful for my stupidity, admitted easily, yet I am
concerned with specific details of style as I sit here in rags.
By circumstance and not by choice this shrub has blossomed:
by choice and not by circumstance this life has been kept
plain.
I made an effort and found stuff to ignore, leave rusty things
unstruck.
I neglect the spectacular and overlook the apparently
important with deliberation.
I’ve waited aeons for the reversal of my interests: Now life
has become the joke and sweetness and hilarity of my own
thoughts have turned into a fascination for me.
No matter what anyone tells you: I do not belong to any
creed or sect, culture or race, nor to any period in history.
My only qualification is the age of my soul: I own three
palaces of quiet pre-dawn moon sound.
Humiliation is my clothing that I wear to sit and bark with the
dogs. I disconnect like dusk and most likely no one will bring
flowers to my grave.
I am ardent without deed and I am information zero,
unimportant iridescent: Grand Palace of Mercy.
Till now I stayed in one place not avoiding you:
now that the traditions are beginning to dissolve, I
put on my wintercoat and walk away.
Business done.
My contemporaries have declared society to be the central
item and are discussing things of importance as
I am speaking to you now.
As my mother taught me to, I keep to myself a lot.
I am the lover of trees, found worthy of loneliness.
I could be the postman, the milkman, the sick person,
the transvestite.
It takes one to recognize one…
I am the unknown dervish.
St.Scribbler identifies himself with this statement drop-down...and i was mentioning to him that if ever there was a female counterpart to this, i would love to be that (maybe i am, maybe i am not). He is a philosopher and a saint in his own rights apart from being one of the best unpublished writers i've ever read. I got this beautiful piece of literature from him and felt that the poignancy that it is suffused with, like an intoxicating perfume, is so pure and raw. There is also this sufi, off beatish, mystic, vagabondish aura that surrounds it.
Nice. Definitely.
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
The banalities of finalities
No intro outro this time around...mainly because there are no stories to retell.
i thought that the recession would not make a difference to me and mine. but it has hit us well above and below the belt. the fact remains that we are shamelessly progressing without any qualms. it is a new experience for me because there seems to be some one who is stating some kind of an ultimatum. buckle up..or else...i have no clue as to who the someone is...
when we decide that it is time to get over and start anew we fail to comprehend that it brings with it heartache and headache. the brain overflows with plans and the heart overflows with pain. rerooting as a concept is wonderful to talk about but as an action it is wonderfully butt-breaking!!!
preeti and i finally met. although we werent strangers to each other, off late there seemed to have been some kind of a wall between us. i wouldnt say the wall has been pulled down completely but we are definitely peeking into each other's domains over the wall and seeing what the other person is up to.
there is something called Peter's Principle. it says that an employee can be judged on the basis of his degree of incompetence. it seems that there are many of us who indulge in what is called 'creative incompetence' wherein we find out creative ways and means of being pains in the asses of our employers. and our future in the organization then seems to be hinged upon the way our employers judge our incompetencies. so if you are a creative incompetent fool watch out...they might just make sure that you get laid (or is that fucked)... no i meant... laid off !!!
an organization working big time in human trafficking called me last evening. i have worked with sexual minorities but not in context with trafficking. and some days back Copyrioter put up a post along similar lines. when something big is finally about to happen there are these micro-hints that keep popping up as a prelude to a macro-event.
over some time now i have been noticing that the gyaan i have been getting from the self-destructing, neurotic, schizophrenic, infested with all kinds of mental disorders generation aka my younger (really younger) friends...has been strangely solid gold. age in terms of number has just gone and gotten itself obsolete. i love them though and some of them are so darned young it actually breaks my heart. but they hang around and show sweet concern and care so it makes me feel GOOD!!!
i thought that the recession would not make a difference to me and mine. but it has hit us well above and below the belt. the fact remains that we are shamelessly progressing without any qualms. it is a new experience for me because there seems to be some one who is stating some kind of an ultimatum. buckle up..or else...i have no clue as to who the someone is...
when we decide that it is time to get over and start anew we fail to comprehend that it brings with it heartache and headache. the brain overflows with plans and the heart overflows with pain. rerooting as a concept is wonderful to talk about but as an action it is wonderfully butt-breaking!!!
preeti and i finally met. although we werent strangers to each other, off late there seemed to have been some kind of a wall between us. i wouldnt say the wall has been pulled down completely but we are definitely peeking into each other's domains over the wall and seeing what the other person is up to.
there is something called Peter's Principle. it says that an employee can be judged on the basis of his degree of incompetence. it seems that there are many of us who indulge in what is called 'creative incompetence' wherein we find out creative ways and means of being pains in the asses of our employers. and our future in the organization then seems to be hinged upon the way our employers judge our incompetencies. so if you are a creative incompetent fool watch out...they might just make sure that you get laid (or is that fucked)... no i meant... laid off !!!
an organization working big time in human trafficking called me last evening. i have worked with sexual minorities but not in context with trafficking. and some days back Copyrioter put up a post along similar lines. when something big is finally about to happen there are these micro-hints that keep popping up as a prelude to a macro-event.
over some time now i have been noticing that the gyaan i have been getting from the self-destructing, neurotic, schizophrenic, infested with all kinds of mental disorders generation aka my younger (really younger) friends...has been strangely solid gold. age in terms of number has just gone and gotten itself obsolete. i love them though and some of them are so darned young it actually breaks my heart. but they hang around and show sweet concern and care so it makes me feel GOOD!!!
Friday, December 5, 2008
There is something about this man...
I could not forget
But I will not endeavor
Simple pleasures aren't as special
But I wont regret it never.
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Thursday, December 4, 2008
Emotionally Crippled Narcissist…?
Intro:
An extremely super sarcastic and ballistic doctor is highly irritated with the resident shrink at his hospital. She is one of those eternally positive persons who tends to spread the happy feeling everywhere. And this really makes him scream bloody murder. She comes up to him and says: “no one's pure evil! I mean, yeah, some people have a hard outer shell, but inside, everybody has a creamy center.” He retorts: “Lady, people aren't chocolates. D'you know what they are mostly? Bastards. Bastard-coated bastards with bastard filling. But I don't find them half as annoying as I find naive bubble-headed optimists who walk around vomiting sunshine.” But she smiles and walks off. So he and the chief of the hospital (who by the way also hates her) decide to ‘destroy her’.
And he says: “when I want to crush somebody’s spirit I employ a combination of intimidation and degradation.” And he actually does that. He is PURE EVIL.
Then there is this time when one of his doctors’ dad dies. He remains his oh-so-fucking-sarcastic self but actually looks out for that boy. Like giving him a day off and taking his calls and also what follows next. The elder brother is wallowing in depression and all he does is soak in a bath-tub and drink beer. And he continues doing this for 2 days – continuously. So the sarcastic doctor goes to him (in the absence of boy doctor) and says: “Let's break down the kid's support system, shall we? He's got me, an emotionally crippled narcissist, and he's got you, an emotionally crippled narcissist who is soaking in a tub of what by now has to be mostly your own urine.” And together they make things all right for the boy doctor.
Well sarcastic doctor also goes so far as to tell the boy doctor that he is proud of him. So … yeah!!!
Outro:
Like I was telling somebody – these are people whom you absolutely love to hate and hate the fact that you absolutely love them. There are exceptions. Basically those who are really mean and malicious. But eveyone hates them anyway. Now the former are the types that are probably irritated and cynical at the way things are happening around them. Hence they lash out at everything and everyone. Their sarcasm makes you cry and you feel like strangling them or probably make them stand on an ant-hill and pour sugar syrup over them (Oh god, have I read this somewhere or did my mind just make it up…? Shit). But then they go ahead and do really wonderful things that is so contrary to their otherwise mean natures. Like this sarcastic doctor. He may not give you a hug or say something good to make you smile. He may call you a nooby and a crunchy and a moonbeam. But he will silently do things that actually make a whole world of practical difference to you.
So... are these people really the ‘emotionally crippled narcissists' that they make themselves out to be? Hmmnnn…
An extremely super sarcastic and ballistic doctor is highly irritated with the resident shrink at his hospital. She is one of those eternally positive persons who tends to spread the happy feeling everywhere. And this really makes him scream bloody murder. She comes up to him and says: “no one's pure evil! I mean, yeah, some people have a hard outer shell, but inside, everybody has a creamy center.” He retorts: “Lady, people aren't chocolates. D'you know what they are mostly? Bastards. Bastard-coated bastards with bastard filling. But I don't find them half as annoying as I find naive bubble-headed optimists who walk around vomiting sunshine.” But she smiles and walks off. So he and the chief of the hospital (who by the way also hates her) decide to ‘destroy her’.
And he says: “when I want to crush somebody’s spirit I employ a combination of intimidation and degradation.” And he actually does that. He is PURE EVIL.
Then there is this time when one of his doctors’ dad dies. He remains his oh-so-fucking-sarcastic self but actually looks out for that boy. Like giving him a day off and taking his calls and also what follows next. The elder brother is wallowing in depression and all he does is soak in a bath-tub and drink beer. And he continues doing this for 2 days – continuously. So the sarcastic doctor goes to him (in the absence of boy doctor) and says: “Let's break down the kid's support system, shall we? He's got me, an emotionally crippled narcissist, and he's got you, an emotionally crippled narcissist who is soaking in a tub of what by now has to be mostly your own urine.” And together they make things all right for the boy doctor.
Well sarcastic doctor also goes so far as to tell the boy doctor that he is proud of him. So … yeah!!!
Outro:
Like I was telling somebody – these are people whom you absolutely love to hate and hate the fact that you absolutely love them. There are exceptions. Basically those who are really mean and malicious. But eveyone hates them anyway. Now the former are the types that are probably irritated and cynical at the way things are happening around them. Hence they lash out at everything and everyone. Their sarcasm makes you cry and you feel like strangling them or probably make them stand on an ant-hill and pour sugar syrup over them (Oh god, have I read this somewhere or did my mind just make it up…? Shit). But then they go ahead and do really wonderful things that is so contrary to their otherwise mean natures. Like this sarcastic doctor. He may not give you a hug or say something good to make you smile. He may call you a nooby and a crunchy and a moonbeam. But he will silently do things that actually make a whole world of practical difference to you.
So... are these people really the ‘emotionally crippled narcissists' that they make themselves out to be? Hmmnnn…
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Will you let me eat you…? I’m starving…
Intro:
There are two homeless friends living on a street. One of them dies one day. The other one watches him rot on the sidewalk. Then he decides to cremate him rather than let him decompose in such a manner. He sets him on fire. And then he starts eating him. A woman living in a nearby house calls the police and gets him arrested. The charges are human rights violation and desecration of a human body. The DA is the prosecutor and wants to capitalize on this case because he is standing for elections. The defense lawyer says in his closing speech: “There are close to 11 million homeless people in America. Nothing is being done for them. But here 50,000$ will be spent on prosecution and 45,000$ will be spent on the imprisonment of a homeless person. And why? Because he ate another human being. Why did he do that? Because he has been starving for 2 weeks and hunger was driving him insane. In a quest to feed the hunger for political power if such human beings are eaten up alive by the so-called protectors of the society then the question to be asked here is – WHO IS THE CANNIBAL?”
Outro:
We may not identify with this feeling because we may not have been in a situation where we had to go without food for 2 whole weeks. Food is one of the basicest rights of every human being. I remember during the extreme drought situation in Rajasthan (5 consecutive years of no rain), people there would feed grass (the little bits that remained on the cracking earth) to their children. Animals were left to die as there was nothing to feed them. There were mountains and mountains of animal bones, stacked up high and vultures would fight dogs for the rotting meat stuck on those bones. So the next time you order more than required at a restaurant I wish you remember this. Imagine if you were in a similar situation like the homeless person. Would you be able to eat your dead friend? I don’t know.
PS: If the title made you read the post then this is exactly what I meant by “Sitting in padmasana and expounding truths about your pathetic existence.”
There are two homeless friends living on a street. One of them dies one day. The other one watches him rot on the sidewalk. Then he decides to cremate him rather than let him decompose in such a manner. He sets him on fire. And then he starts eating him. A woman living in a nearby house calls the police and gets him arrested. The charges are human rights violation and desecration of a human body. The DA is the prosecutor and wants to capitalize on this case because he is standing for elections. The defense lawyer says in his closing speech: “There are close to 11 million homeless people in America. Nothing is being done for them. But here 50,000$ will be spent on prosecution and 45,000$ will be spent on the imprisonment of a homeless person. And why? Because he ate another human being. Why did he do that? Because he has been starving for 2 weeks and hunger was driving him insane. In a quest to feed the hunger for political power if such human beings are eaten up alive by the so-called protectors of the society then the question to be asked here is – WHO IS THE CANNIBAL?”
Outro:
We may not identify with this feeling because we may not have been in a situation where we had to go without food for 2 whole weeks. Food is one of the basicest rights of every human being. I remember during the extreme drought situation in Rajasthan (5 consecutive years of no rain), people there would feed grass (the little bits that remained on the cracking earth) to their children. Animals were left to die as there was nothing to feed them. There were mountains and mountains of animal bones, stacked up high and vultures would fight dogs for the rotting meat stuck on those bones. So the next time you order more than required at a restaurant I wish you remember this. Imagine if you were in a similar situation like the homeless person. Would you be able to eat your dead friend? I don’t know.
PS: If the title made you read the post then this is exactly what I meant by “Sitting in padmasana and expounding truths about your pathetic existence.”
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