Sunday, 19 February 2012


Growing up is such an ordeal, that with each year it throws in obscure realisations about life, future and all that mess. I've often felt many moments as crucial junctures, accommodating present happenings into the larger idealised picture of the future that the mind creates for recreation. It's often a comfortable happy task, and often one mingled with hope and a tinge of fear that my tendency to see things positively tries to stifle, often with grand success. 

 Honesty is not always my forte, I succumb to exaggerations because I love to be the good talker. But my skewed sense of honesty often pricks in positions of discomfiture. I see this time of my life as a critical juncture. There's the hovering idea of where I might land up for further studies, compiled with a distaste for the thought that critical beings are going to make, well, critical remarks if I don't land up in a place that is not ostensibly good. it makes me feel scared of judgements. But then, to think of it, of all the judgemental people I know, I'm probably one of the most prudish of them. 

 That brings me to judgements in the first place. Of course, there is an evaluation body everywhere. If not in the glares and appreciations of other people, then your own degree of conscience which is not adjustable because it in itself starts to judge the adjustments. Quite the Big Brother. But like all those big preachy words that fall flat when confronted with a reality check, I'd like to believe that keeping our own conscience and humility in place, we can only succeed if we learn to evaluate judgements dispassionately.

Wednesday, 1 February 2012

On Perfection

We run our tiny rat races to achieve little perfections of our own. The right job where your bank balance is cool and your colleagues and bosses love you, the right school where the friends have just the right quotient of fun and sincerity, and the right relationship where you have all the love in the world, and the least fights to go with it.

There are I think two perfections we come across in every sphere of life. One that's the idea and one which is the reality. The mind has the liberty to create perfections from various strands of experiences. We all want a bit of this and a bit of that; combine them and the mind has the perfection ready in a jiffy. I think this mind's perfection often makes one overlook the little real ones that life offers us time and again. While waiting for the ideal picture to take shape, we might forget to acknowledge what we really have. But then, that's how we all are.