Ode to my alter ego...

I didn’t ask you for you even in my darkest hour

The length of my days and the rhythm of its nights

Stayed static and still like a never ending adagio

The symphony though nocturne was an uncomplicated andante

Everything I am and have done seems now gauche and desperate

The words I’ve written were empty barges

Looking for a secure shore to drop anchor

While all this while it’s been the grapnel that skimmed and kissed the quicksand

Maybe you’re a figment of my overactive imagination

That seems more desperate than the vulture at a banquet

Is hungrier than can be sated

And wants to devour till it’s depleted

I am so many people

And yet I am no one

I’m the white horse you ride surfboards on

I’m the Dead Sea you hover desultorily over

I didn’t ask for you even in my bleakest hours

Even those spent wandering aimlessly in the barrenness of my soul

Or the darkness of the stalactite caverns of the mind

Waiting for that icicle to skiver eyes that have no right to behold

Yet here you are, blight on my peace

Nemesis of the fiendish kind

Spurring the beast to surpass the superlative

To rise above the sinuous ellipse

It's akin to a bloodied war, it's spoils cheated of a decent interment

No time to mourn the grim scrimmage 

A cleansing after the ashes settle

As I seek to prove my unyielding mettle

The rites of celebration play rampant in the spirit

My wolf call loud and unabashedly brash

I'm the hunter and the hunted, the tormentor and her delight

I didn't ask for you and you came, so stay... until I annihilate myself

Ode to my alter ego...

I didn’t ask you for you even in my darkest hour

The length of my days and the rhythm of its nights

Stayed static and still like a never ending adagio

The symphony though nocturne was an uncomplicated andante

Everything I am and have done seems now gauche and desperate

The words I’ve written were empty barges

Looking for a secure shore to drop anchor

While all this while it’s been the grapnel that skimmed and kissed the quicksand

Maybe you’re a figment of my overactive imagination

That seems more desperate than the vulture at a banquet

Is hungrier than can be sated

And wants to devour till it’s depleted

I am so many people

And yet I am no one

I’m the white horse you ride surfboards on

I’m the Dead Sea you hover desultorily over

I didn’t ask for you even in my bleakest hours

Even those spent wandering aimlessly in the barrenness of my soul

Or the darkness of the stalactite caverns of the mind

Waiting for that icicle to skiver eyes that have no right to behold

Yet here you are, blight on my peace

Nemesis of the fiendish kind

Spurring the beast to surpass the superlative

To rise above the sinuous ellipse

It's akin to a bloodied war, it's spoils cheated of a decent interment

No time to mourn the grim scrimmage 

A cleansing after the ashes settle

As I seek to prove my unyielding mettle

The rites of celebration play rampant in the spirit

My wolf call loud and unabashedly brash

I'm the hunter and the hunted, the tormentor and his delight

I didn't ask for you and you came, so stay... until I annihilate myself

Me... idiocracy

Mediocrity seems to be a recurring theme today, from a conversation this morning to, Monsters University; a movie I'm watching as I type this.
Pride prevents me from thinking I am a run of the mill pedestrian type, you see I don't want to admit that since I believe that I'm special and above the ordinary.
Besides, I have a secret disdain for this undistinguished quality and have trained myself to dither from what I thought was an unappealing trait, especially for my own self.
One does need reality check whether it comes as an experience or even a blight on your peace alter ego who can steer your reflections toward an au courant angle.
So I was told that most people are mediocre and it's fine really, nothing out of the ordinary in that... but to be happy in that knowledge and not wanting to trans-mutate, now that is a crime.
Complacency is a deep rooted malady and needs a vigorous discipline to shake off.
Let's face it then, most of us are wannabe's but let's not stay that way. What's life without a challenge and what is growth if it isn't of one's own intellect and competence.
Learning has to be a credo, a faith and compulsion and yes, hanker for more and then some.
Whatever it may take, an academic course, a practical instruction, an instrument you've been hankering to learn to play, carpentry, tailoring, or even learning to be a handy man, Nike!
As always... this blog is a place I spit and spew, interestingly I'm learning to swallow.
Me idiocracy... for now.

Me... idiocracy

Mediocrity seems to be a recurring theme today, from a conversation this morning to, Monsters University; a movie I'm watching as I type this.
Pride prevents me from thinking I am a run of the mill pedestrian type, you see I don't want to admit that since I believe that I'm special and above the ordinary.
Besides, I have a secret disdain for this undistinguished quality and have trained myself to dither from what I thought was an unappealing quality, especially for my own self.
One does need reality check whether it comes as an experience or even a blight on your peace alter ego who can steer your reflections toward an au courant angle.
So I was told that most people are mediocre and it's fine really, nothing out of the ordinary in that... but to be happy in that knowledge and not wanting to trans-mutate, now that is a crime.
Complacency is a deep rooted malady and needs a vigorous discipline to shake off.
Let's face it then, most of us are wannabe's but let's not stay that way. What's life without a challenge and what is growth if it isn't of one's own intellect and competence.
Learning has to be a credo, a faith and compulsion and yes, hanker for more and then some.
Whatever it may take, an academic course, a practical instruction, an instrument you've been hankering to learn to play, carpentry, tailoring, or even learning to be a handy man, Nike!
As always... this blog is a place I spit and spew, interestingly I'm learning to swallow.
Me idiocracy... for now.

Flawlessly squinted...

The first time I was told that my eyes are slightly squint, I was offended to put it mildly. Having only received éclat for my saucer eyes all my growing years, the suggestion of a deformity gave me dysphagia.
But like always, when the cow ruminates, the cud is easier to chew and I did give myself an unhurried glance in the mirror to confirm that I was indeed cross eyed and of course Anjali came to mind as she kept warning me that I would end up this way since I have this terrible habit of mimicking the squinch.
Fact is then, I look at you and the person next to you thinks I'm doing a peekabo with them.
Sigh!
Very briefly the cogitation of a medical correction flirted coyly in mind, but like most coquetry, it was squelched rather easily, oh and I'm lazy! Seemed too much trouble anyway. And if I could kill two birds with stone or affect two people with one glance, why would I upset the dual birds in the bush.
Which brings me to the meat and potatoes of this post.
Isn't it better that your vision is off centre at times? When you're fastidiously cautious and single mindedly judicious maybe you miss the magic of the moment or the fragrance in the air (sic!) or the sounds of laughter that could manifest into a healing harmony.
Those who know me well enough will figure out that this is a disclaimer for my scatter brained indolent self, but honestly, I do commend that life should be viewed cockeyed so as to see beyond the evident and obvious.
If you could look at everything from people to relationships and actions to shennanigans with an assymetrical glance, I guess it would be far lighter than a twenty twenty vision. Extreme focus can be terribly tiresome and weigh you down.
A blurred around the edges picture sometimes gives it a charm that a straight shoot may not possess.

So there I go, looking askance, not just with my eyes but with my mind too and honestly... McDonald's!!!

When Autumn leaves gently fall...

Today, Sept 22nd is the day of the Winter Equinox, to put it simply, it's the beginning of winter in the northern hemisphere and the beginning of spring in the southern. Well, to us who have only two seasons of summer and winter it doesn't mean much but for me it's a good time to do a recce on the seasons of the mind and soul.

While we are aware of the changing seasons in the environment we live in, how attuned are we to the transmutations of the self and do we need to.

I've noticed that sometimes if you just let things be, not really delve into the why's and how's... they have a tendency to fade into the sunset without a whimper. But then it's only to the dullard that enough is as good as a feast or so it is said (and if vanity isn't my second name, the Pope is Saraswat Brahmin! as Anjali would say...)

Autumn is the season for the deciduous trees to shed leaves... maybe the season for me to shed archaic notions that I have, this trait bordering on arrogance and even complacence. Irrespective of how hard I try, the specter of pride looms large and plays heavily on my psyche. A job well done, some flattery and the sense of accomplishment I have, seemingly innocent, turns into a massive chip on the shoulder and I become difficult to live with, even for myself.

Been listening to and gently humming Autumn Leaves and here's a personal version.

The falling leaves drift by my window

The flailing wind on my brow

I see myself in the summer of old

The many notions I used to hold

Since its time for the days to grow long

And soon I'll hear old winter's song

I must then surely take this call

When autumn leaves start to fall

Keep me grounded and ever so humble

Hold my hand lest I tumble

Make me laugh when I'm pissed and grumpy

Prep me up when I'm feeling frumpy

And most of all... help me be... when autumn leaves gently fall...

Set yourself... free...

“I have worn my heart on my sleeve because it is too painful to carry it inside my chest.
When I carry it on my sleeve, it has the freedom to exist, to beat in rhythm with the Universe.
I feel like I'm more alive and yes, there are those who out of curiosity will say or do things that can cause its delicate existence to feel pain and sorrow.
I would rather deal with that, than to put it back in its little cage where it knows nothing else but the rhythm of my body and my Ego.
My heart was never meant to be part of my Ego.
My heart was meant to experience the Soul.” 
― C.C. Campbell, The Stolen Light of Women: A Quest for Spiritual Truth Beyond Religion

Now that is what I call freedom, when you allow yourself the luxury of being you, with all your frailties and letting the world see that and creating experiences for self without knowing how it will end,
I had an interesting experience during my travel last week and this has given me a lot of perspective. I had been to Netherlands on official work and since had done a holiday and explored Amsterdam a while ago, thought I'd visit Belgium and specifically Bruge and Gent this time around. Was looking for a place to stay in these places and wanted to try out Airbnb, the popular accomodation provider that I'd heard so much about.
I zeroed in on a place in Eeklo, a little town located between these two places I wanted to visit. I loved the pictures of the house and the description and the host's introduction seemed interesting, so off I go and book the place for a steal, the price was unbelievable.
So I rent a car and drive from Breda in Netherlands, straight to Eeklo in Belgium, whoever invented the GPS system has my undying gratitude! The navigation system takes me to a house with a broken gate in a cobblestoned pathway and I double park my car in the narrow alley and walk through the gate to the door and look for a bell, finding none I push the door and walk in to find it empty! I'm seriously worried now about my car being towed and I call out loudly for my host, an exercise in futility as I discovered.
About 15 minutes later he walks from another side of the house and says, "Oh you're here, cool, that's your room, settle yourself. I'm in the garden behind, join me when you want to" and walks away.
For a couple of minutes I coudn't comprehend what just happened, this stranger lets me into the house and disappears, really??? I run after him and say, " I need to park my car and it's been out in the street for the past twenty minutes!!!" He then shows me which turn in the road to take to enter the garden and walks off.
I bring my car to the other entrance of the property, pull out my bags, settle in my room and walk towards the path he had showed earlier. It was a beautiful peice of land which he had converted into an open picnic area with tables and chairs and a few structures for a circular bar, kitchen and had animals like sheep, hens, a pig and a goat in different pens. He also had a vegetable patch on which his mother and step mother were working together, pulling out weeds in harmony.
I make polite conversation and we all walk back into the house and my host tells me he has a meeting, he's a local politician and will be late and walks away. Which allows me to go into town for a few beers and a meal and I return to an empty house. I pull out my book and settle myself and begin reading and the heavens opened and it began to rain in torrents.
Suddenly a thought struck me, it was 10:30 pm and I was alone in a house I don't know, owned by someone I don't know, in a country I don't know, what the hell was I doing??!!?!? I'm never one to take risks, always try and follow the safe route, where had my brains gone?
Apprehension now slowly began to creep in, all my bravado slowly began to seep out, especially when I remembered that my host said that the house is Never locked, like Ever! And he doesn't have a lock either. I looked around the house and saw it strewn with ipads, records, fancy electronic gizmos, laptops and many expensive gadgets I could walk out easily with. My flights of fearful fancy came to a stand still right then.
This person left the house with everything in it, with complete faith. He didn't know me either but he didn't look like it bothered him. All he knew about me that I was an Indian living and working in the UAE and I was married and have two children. Fullstop. Yet he walked away in faith, never thinking that I would do a Bonnie and Clyde!
I had conversations with him everyday during the three days that I stayed there and his philosophy was so simple. He believed in the goodness of things, in all men and women being equals, in community service, saving the environment, being self sufficient, being free of the trappings of success as defined by society, empowering the young and mostly in giving what you had, the more you give, the more you recieve. Not being worried that your faith will be destroyed, you may have a few unfortunate experiences but that shouldn't cloud your vision.
This to me, this thinking, is freedom. Freedom from what others tell you how to think and behave, freedom to believe in goodness, freedom to allow youself peace with yourself and everyone around you. Freedom truly means one thing and one thing only, Peace.
When you are at peace, irrrespective of your surroundings, even if you lived in a cage or a wide open field, but you were at peace, then you're truly free.
Allow your mind to think positive things... freedom and peace will come uninvited and make their home with you...