Tuesday, 30 December 2008

Look who's here again

Life isn’t really a cakewalk. Everything goes fine until one day you suddenly face with one of those difficulties…


Exams. Yeah I have one again. They are like phantasmal nightmares that haunt you rather too often than one would want. And no matter how much time you’ve been given to prepare for it, the zeal for studying doesn’t really come two months before D- Day. The high rush of adrenalin, the enthusiasm to gulp down knowledge, the Ulysses like ultra- keenness is a myth. At least for me. I plan every day as to what I should do. And I then manage to do exactly what I shouldn’t. Life is such a drag. No matter what you do this Ultimate Source of Depression is always lurking there at the back of the mind. The whole thing is like a parasite. Exams are like leeches that suck out anything that is worth enjoying in this life. However, it’s true that sitting for an exam in the hall is rather enjoyable. One gets to see a plethora of people with diverse expressions. A friend of mine can often be seen wool-gathering in the first two hours. It’s the third hour that makes her grasp the fact that its do or die (do or fail, to be politically correct.) the principle of beg borrow and steal is implemented in every exam hall- beg and borrow pens, protractors and answers. The classroom is one big happy family... There's definitely more to this but my limited knowledge on the lingua franca isn't permitting me to pen (type) them down here.

So, as all have concluded by now, I am as usual frustrated with it. But then it’s only normal because getting frustrated at the slightest pretext is my trademark style. I really don’t mind examinations. Just wish that they didn’t test our mugging- up prowess.

Monday, 29 December 2008

Practising optimism ;)

Its funny how one can feel nostalgic at the weirdest hours of the day. It’s almost 1 am and I am harassing the keyboard with my sudden splurge of sentimental gaga. Life itself is strange.

There has been so many times when we feel that we cannot face life anymore. The world suddenly shrinks into a narrow windowless room full of disgruntlement, as if the seething sadness is almost claustrophobic. The laughter that we shared echoes amidst the white pillars of ruins that we left. They hark back of times that aren’t ever to come back.

Time is too precious to let go of, but as each second passes by we lose it. I’d like to believe that we can ensnare time in a tiny corner of our brain, so that every little sign act as keys that can bring back those days as reminiscences. The world seems to come to a standstill as we come to the end of something. But hope allows us and our mind’s world to carry on. Life is too beautiful to just sit back with our memories. It hurls at us challenges that are the stepping stones of our growing up. Time can never give us anything decayed so we get fresh reasons of joy from life as we grow older.

When we'll look back, all our petty discontents shall look like mundane trials of patience, and almost comical. We might not crack the jokes that we cracked when we were younger, but we shall look back at those jokes with fondness, laugh at the thought that we could come up with such poor jargon and actually considered them to be worthy of our laughter. We might meet each other once in a blue moon. But then even blue moon is sure to occur once in three years. We might not be as hyper excited at most things as we were, but we’ll learn the flair of subtle passion. We’ll be excited all the same; just that the exposĂ© of it shall be a tad bit different.

The whole thing isn’t exactly like a short story. The chapters are interlinked and thus when every chapter ends, the next carries forward with it something of the previous. So we aren’t really losing out on the whole thing as we come to the end of something. We have to give up on certain things, but then to gain something we must surrender a few. We can’t be forever the same, but can be forever young as we are now. Life is too beautiful to go on lamenting about the past- we have lived the past and can relive it anytime we want in our mind. The jubilant past is here with us in the present. We haven’t left anything behind. It’s there with us. It’s there with me. And I am not going to let go of it.


(err.. pardon me for my midnight blues. sleepiness must have made me do it. )

Saturday, 27 December 2008

Change of Season

My eternally over-wintered brain is seeing spring for some time now. Though it should have been ideally operational for the sake of my upcoming examinations, the Mumbai carnage plus the festive spirit did the honours instead of the thoughts of the Impending Doom of March. My mother is always at her freaky best- she was sure that I was going to get blown up if I visited Park Street on Christmas. (That’s going to happen on the day my result comes out anyway. And no it’s not about eat-and-get-bloated blown up thing. She has given up hoping for that, ages ago. She has now accepted the fact that she has given birth to a toothy skeleton.)

Footfall at the malls always increases during any festive season, mostly thanks to us shopaholic femmes. And since majority of the women in this planet have side-bags almost like Pandora’s Box, the security guards at each malls are supposedly at their hyper-best. The television media has also wakened up from the quiescent state. 26/11 has given them a decent Breaking News at last. So it’s continuing even now. A certain bong channel has also started keeping unattended bags in crowded areas to check the citizen’s and police’s alertness. Both the targeted victims failed miserably to identify and complain about the suspicious thing. Though such acts test the alertness level and pre-warn about potential dangers, I found such hoaxes rather funny.

26/11 has changed life for many quite a bit. It even changed the spelling of the Bong- Didi’s name. For some nothing much has changed- their food for life is the primary concern. The Great- Social- Divide is all the more glaring. I don’t remember being so concerned about the Malegaon case, Assam Blasts or the perpetual mayhem in Kashmir. Attack on the Parliament became an ‘attack against Democracy’ while other attacks were sidelined as sporadic cases not worth all the media hullabaloos. Attack on Taj made a certain renowned reporter write about his memories there that coincided with the birth of his son while the 56 dead at CST was not given much footage in comparison. Certain things never change.

As for me, I’ll now wait to watch Shrek.

Monday, 1 December 2008

Where's The Party...

Terrorism in India has almost become a K-serial saga. The intensity, the casualty and of course the melodrama the good old 'party' folks is ever increasing. With all the blast in one single year, I really wonder how the country shall sustain few more that are inevitable since I can’t perceive any change in the system that shall effectively combat the menace.

Things are taking an even worse turn with Ram Gopal Verma trying to deliver his Mumbai ki Aag. All the congress can do is to go on a resignation spree. With the number of people leaving the hapless Union Government, I wonder how much it will be left with in the end. The BJP is actually no better and has smartly avoided starting a blame game match. (We have been saved. All the blame and the counter blame would have been an insult to the cause) Their Sadhvi-bachao-andolan is all hushed up. (Also the Thakeray sena) The Congress has had to bear the brunt of high profile terrorism while the BJP has gifted us citizens with Babri Masjid demolitions and Godhra riots. The only alternative is the Prakash Karat sect but then bang- on! Winning votes to them and you see the UP queen as PM.

With no ostensible alternatives, we the citizens are being compelled to lose hope, and to carry on with our lives crouching down in our own land to save ourselves from the communal demagogues and anti- national forces. Unfortunately we all aren’t made of brave CafĂ© Leopold stuff. (Hats off to them, for defeating the cause of the aggressors.) A friend told me that by being afraid we are amplifying our own defeat. But then the question that obviously arises is that what we can do. If the reservation bill could conceive a Youth for Equality, then can’t a heinous act of terror give way to better governance? Its show time for the aam aadmi. And we just need to make full use of it.