A Writer's Life

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Friday, September 23, 2011

Thoughtlessness Inscribed

I thought that a blog would require a lot of thought...which sure, it does. But, today I want to write about my thoughtlessness.
Like usual, I boarded a bus and started my travel towards my office.
Unlike usual, I slept off, feeling dizzy with thoughts that were wierd and disconnected, disturbing the peace of my mind.
Like usual, my stop arrived
Unlike usual, I never did realize it and continued with my struggle to sleep peacefully amidst all the noise - no! not the noise of the yelling people, boarding and unboarding the bus, in their local Chennai Tamil, blabbering endlessly, in an unrhythmic pattern, or the honking of the bus at every irregular interval, or the harsh turnings of the bus, or the hawkers and the passersby or the stuntmen performing jaw-dropping ways to board the bus, running and holding the bars, or just swinging away, while humming some tollywood tune
it was actually the noise in my head that was to be blamed for all the thoughts actually signifying thoughtlessness.
The bus sped away and by the time I woke, I had reached some unknown place in this new city. Totally lost, I crossed the road and waited for a bus to drop me at the nearest bus stop to my office.
Soon, it arrived but was crowded like hell. With no place to place my foot, I put my foot down, hoping some space would welcome my princess feet. An annoyed woman, with a big red bindi on her forehead, turned to look at me, and I smiled in return. I soon learnt that the aisle-like space below my foot, was this Madam's foot actually. No sooner did I realize this that I lifted it promptly and my tongue led its way out in horror. She looked away and I heaved a sigh of relief. Unable to figure out the stops, I leaned to get a better look at the nearby places, in hope of familiar surroundings. When trying to peep out the window, I noticed a guy noticing me. Staring at me, like he never saw a beauty before, huh! these road-side boys i tell you, are such a pain to witness witnessing you. Anyways, I briefly nodded my head and looked sideways, only to see an old man staring back at me. Oh ho! so this roadside guy, I assume is this oldie's chashmo chirag (his son, the light of his house - literal translation)...a group of galz standing ahead of me, grinned and giggled. I was puzzled. Trying to locate a mirror-like reflection on the window glass of the bus, I bent further to view myself carefully. But to no avail. My image was refused by the light-colored bus window glass and I was left to think whatever I wished to, presuming it to be a reason for all those unwelcome glares. My stop arrived and I was glad I found my way back to office. Having got down the crowded bus, I heaved a sigh of relief...huh! phew! Aha! I can see a pair of eyes here and a pair of eyes there, eyeing on me. Or maybe I have started getting a superiority feeling about my looks...could that be? well, not certain though but there are high chances.

I walked past a car, when what I saw through the dark window panes of the four-wheeler was indeed something that left me dumbstruck. I was wearing my dress inside out. Gosh! I was all red..and pale at the same time. I took to my heels and ran towards the office gates, jumped up on the floor, hysterically finding my way to the washroom..hid my face with my palms, and nodded my head horizontally at a rapid speed. "Hah, nothing like that ever happened, OK", I assured myself. And forced my mind to erase the memory...Gulp! and my throat was all dehydrated and I just submerged this episode in my sub-conscious mind. Only to come back to meet my colleagues with a cheerful chirpy HI...and back to my desk..everything's normal apart from this blog. Wait! If my keyboard was alive, was it mocking at me...thud! thud! thud! my fingers are beating it up rapidly, when typing this. Anybody else who wants to have a hearty laugh at this...my fists are closed and I am still heated up with rage on mockers and shockers! phoo! shoo! all of you there, who wanna laugh at my misery! Shoo! I say!

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Pigeon or Soldier - Whats the Right Approach to Life?

It's been really long since I wrote something. I am currently going through a state, wherein, I can see something unpleasant coming up but can't control the happenings.
Should I be more like a pigeon like in the olden days, that used to send letters to the intended recipients, unknown about the reaction it could evoke in the reader. Still flying merrily in the open sky, holding the letter in his meek beak, soaring higher midst nature, blinking eyelids watching the whole, timid, worldly people with even timid understanding or knowledge of the blissful nature, submissive to air, allowing the cool breeze to fondle its feathers carelessly yet lovingly, while the pigeon never cares about the mishap that is going to befall with that message it carries
Should I be more like a soldier, who would never let anything or anybody evil to trespass the borders? Someone so inclined in protecting the family of country people, that is even ready to take the poisonous shots that could take away the soldier's breath and life and blood. But??? but the soldier is honored for his sacrifice. What if I be a soldier and protect but am labelled as a traitor for my sacrifices and good intention that could be regarded as a way to display some invisible enmity?

I ain't sure of the name, but there was some character in Mahabharata, the great Indian epic, who could foresee the future...wanted to stop his own people from approaching it and continued to persuade his beings about the terrible foresight...
but the fate had it!
the disaster did happen and that particular person, who could foresee, was left with a heavy heart.

Are situations really in control?
Can we change things on our own?
I am sure there are answers everywhere around me
Maybe I need to pick up the right clues
...interpret it correctly and...

No! am just gasping enough air and sighing coz I dont know how to lead myself as a winner, in this situation