why write?-An old post

(Originally written in 06 on another blog,this post quite obviously displays my fetish with full stops..retained taking a cue from Ambassedor vitage we might see soon on roads)

it is difficult to keep remembering....that you exist...you become an eye, an ear, a summation of senses on either side of a hood.. and you forget to feel how you feel...the realisation somehow seeps away from sensation...things happen and it does not matter...they do not and that does not matter either... i do not know how it happened to me..how my life became a story...just another of so many stories i write...about my life...about how i feel... it's difficult to know actually! and it is no surprise that i fail to realise just when i transmutate from one character in a story...to other in another one..sometime masks and makeup cling...sometimes i do not need then ; just changing color of my skin is sufficient... it is meaningless to change from one anonymity to another... sometimes i have to just twist my lips a little...and i become another person...i am my Jeanie then....why this seems so meaningless then? what makes me sad when in the middle of the play i remember that i cannot fly...i cannot disappear coz I'm not a Jeanie in this story?..... do i like my characters? do i know them?....or is it a pretence...of knowing it all...understanding the incomprehensible....? i do not know...they say that ignorance is a bliss...and i do not want to know sometimes...coz with wings i can fly...it makes sense if i ignore the incongruities of my stories...that they never end.... how do i feel between the characters?...i do not know as i am busy weaving new ones to fill in my emptiness did god create us?...worthless beings just like this?...to run away from senses...not to realise?... i do not know coz i am on to a new story...another part of me...another part that will not fit, never, to make the complete me...its corners will not be ground-they will remain-.sharp edges,incongruous, they remind me of myself.When i hurt my fingers on one of these, i know that they are part of me,that my quest is still unfinished,that there is a face besides the mask.i have never seen it, but i know its presence when i hurt myself over me....

Xyloed

We are Xyloed. Fresh from the much awaited product launch yesterday, the classic ' to buy or not to buy' is the constant buzz I hear around me.Many were directly involved in the project, many by association, the excitement is certainly in the air. In a way it's a breather from the hottest commodity around-the bad news. Sinking economy, sinking automotive industry in particular, terror strike, transport strike, you name it and we have everything on platter.

It's amazing how people have gotten so involved emotionally with what is meant to be essentially a commercial offering.

People who made it, people like us who examined and did the nit-picking down to almost every nut and bolt and wire,people entirely unconnected in theory, everyone has some strong sense of passion about Xylo, be it the general effusiveness or the rare brickbats; Xylo is our version of Indo-Pak cricket match where everyone is an expert, everyone has seen some facet that others did not..

Another interesting thing i sensed was the amazement so many of felt when we got hold of the finished product even though in bits and pieces they where who made it. call it success of information management, maybe a reflection on how little we look around our immediate task at hand, or maybe some element of what Arjuna felt when he was targeting the bird's eye- the world is beautiful, but, all that mattered for the moment was the best he could give to his job at hand..

As they say, all is well that ends well, despite the inevitable rejoicing and heart burns that go into making as complex product as a car

..Nothing has captured our imaginations more through this century then these metallo-mechanical beast with so much sweat and grime inside and style and grace and charisma for all the world to see..

To the beast go the honours for the day!

revisit

Second posts are important as they re-affirm the commitment for the next one, not unlike what second life does- nine lives are the upper limit says my cat, already in its third life. why third? the cat has been mourned over twice by a over-afflicted cousin of mine, only to reappear again to every one's delight, turned out that the cat was merely taking the usual catty nap..
how many lives do we want to have till we say that's enough? not too bad a question for we. the believers in re-incarnations,some stories are special though. there is one about a great king in pre- mahabarata period who kept evading death for thousand years, each time sacrificing a son to extend his life by a hundred years, the older he grew, the stronger the pull of life became for him just as you want to win desperately the more you lose in a card game.
this lasted until he managed to ask his last son, just out of his teens why he didn't flinch when death was coming any moment.
His son could see the absurdity of life & of death, what interested him was if the king could escape the inevitable, live to die 100 years hence, could achieve anything that he could not in his 1000 years. if he could, we might have created some sense out of the farce we live in.
Life isn't a transferable asset, but what if it was. the young prince chose to take the offer, what would others do?
interesting experiments to explore, only that we have no multiple choice questions here and none of these is not a valid answer..

musings of infidel

Have been planning to have a new place exclusively for random writings, musings, blabbering etc. it's essentially an urge to write as myself, unlike fiction (or fiction of fiction) where the character becomes another little being.
Interesting thought- did god create us just as we create all these words and stories and verses and the so-called non fiction? never realising where this new being will end up, how will this play out.
Einstein thought god didn't play dice, Stephen Hawkins thinks he does, so did Heisenberg, not that the speculation matters in the end, we all end up at same place- some have better idea on why, some don't or maybe the latter are humble enough to admit, does he play dice with no rules decided beforehand, a game to be established when it's already over? not much unlike our lives i guess..
Many think god does not exist, many more know that he (or she, to be politically correct) exists and speaks to chosen few, and for so long that they write books out of it. why were the chosen few the chosen few? this becomes really baffling when chosen few tell us that everything is predestined...maybe these were chosen as they had the patience to listen to millions of verses and the ability to remember all of it after the ordeal, correction- revelation.
or maybe ability to remember that others didn't have either of it and they are more likely to believe him/her than listening to it for themselves.( another question-the mode is like a radio or a phone call, what are the chances of getting on the wrong line? many questions in fact)
in any case, if one remembers this, and it's very likely given their enormous power in this regard, it's easy to see what will happen next, some will believe, some would not, some will resist, most will not be bothered until such time that the story becomes a legend, people start believing just because they've heard it ever so often, and because its novelty..
one such a leader has enough people, he can start saying we are better, and eventually that others are worse, they don't deserve their place in society, their money, their life indeed..
if the leader says it often enough, forcefully enough, we will have people on the sidelines joining in, thus starts a cult..not necessarily on same principles as what the god told the preacher..
the religion in individual capacity is very different in it's nature from the religion we profess en-masse..
did god want this? did he not? maybe i leave it to another day coz it's time to catch grub, watch TV, read a book, wait till a brand new day comes with all its banality and nothingness..
runnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn...