Blogging my way back in

Blogging has never been more fun. Why? Because I am writing from a place where there was no reliable internet available till a week back. My blog was on the verge of becoming defunct when suddenly the wordpress app started working here. I am writing these few lines to express my delight as well as to check whether the connection will actually work.

More words to follow soon…

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Let me walk in peace

‘Hello!’ A booming voice shattered my reverie. I looked around to see where it came from and found a bush some twenty feet up the mountain quivering. Beside it was squatting a scrawny little man. He was scratching his white beard vigorously, and staring at me with his brows furrowed.

‘Yes,’ I shouted back, ‘what happened?’

‘Who are you? Where are you going?’ He demanded.

‘Just going for an evening stroll. Why?’

‘Nothing,’ he relaxed, and continued, ‘Where’re you from?’

‘Somewhere nearby,’ I said rather irritated, and resumed my journey uphill.

I was an outsider here. Local people would stop me on the way like this to complete their inquiries. It felt like they took me for a potential danger to their farms, or livestock. That’s why I would never eye a wandering goat or sheep, lest somebody should hit me with a stick.

I stopped after a while and went to the side of the road and glanced at the valley below. I had reached a substantial height. I inhaled the purity of the air in a long and deep breath, and checked my watch. It had been an hour since I left home.

It was a soothing sight below. A river was smoothly flowing across the farms. I traced the river to find its source on the mountain behind it, and lost it midway around some thick vegetation and rocks. My eyes glided up to the top of the hill, noticing the dense forest on the way.

The clouds were resting comfortably just above the peak, swollen bright white with pride that no one else could reach them. In the greenery below, I could see a speck of white – probably a building, a home. But who would live at that height and how? I need to buy binoculars. I took a mental note.

Must be some kind of temple, I decided, and moved on.

I had made it a point to complete this daily ritual of evening contemplative walks. Besides being very healthy, they gave me food for thought. And I love thinking deep.

I smiled at the thought of reaching ‘my spot’. My spot, was a huge rock positioned beside a road higher up the mountain, shaped like a ledge.

I reached the place and sat on the rock, eyes closed, breathing deep. The air here has a restorative quality to it. Every breath would work like an energy drink.

Generally, this place remained devoid of human existence – it was high and cold and desolate and may be slightly dangerous here – but that day I could hear some noise coming from a distance. A kind of procession – may be religious – I thought. Then I saw people emerging from the far end of the road. I turned and focused back on nature, disconnected with what was happening around.

The sky far away was displaying magic with colours. Turning in all the known and unknown shades of yellow, orange and red. Sometimes I could see the clouds shimmering in gold as well. The Sun was nowhere to be seen, having already set behind a high hill far away. But its rays were still not ready to call it a day, it seemed.

This beauty quietened every voice in my brain, every activity in my body. It brought out best of my memories to the fore. The most beautiful of them were invading my mind, leaving me in a state of trance.

And suddenly, I was pulled back with cruel force. Back from the deepest corners of my soul. And I heard it said again:

‘Who are you?’

I assume it’s their compulsive need to know every single soul around them. It irritated me a lot in the beginning. But I have accepted it now. I know they will come and talk. I have started answering peacefully. In fact, I know a lot many people around now, just because of their persistent intrusions into my privacy.

I have had evening tea with some of them by now, played volleyball, and football with some others. Knowing that the people around know me has made my walks even more pleasurable. I am one of them now.

Drunk on my love for writing. Are you too?

I had a first after many days today. I had a bottle of beer with my father. I mean not exactly with my father truly; I kind of snatched one away from his kitty, and went into my own room on a date with solitude. I had these two episodes of Game of Thrones season 6 downloaded, and begging to be watched, but something was missing. And bang, my father enters my room asking for something to eat with beer. Up till now, he wasn’t even completely sure that I allow myself having alcohol; “occasionally”, I promised him with the most innocent look I could bring my features to conjure. It has taken me years of hard work to make my parents believe that I still am the good boy they raised. Now a couple of bottles of beer may sound routine to some; for me, having it under the same roof as my father’s was nothing short of magic. Chilled beer in this hot weather plus my favourite show. I couldn’t have asked for more.

A very well known writer once said, write drunk, edit sober. I know some of you reading machines have already got the name, but I can’t remember, I am drunk! I will make sure that I forget to edit afterwards. I will lose my flow. Jokes apart. Writing in itself is more immersing than alcohol can ever be (not for all though, you know who I am addressing). Anything that you love is, for that matter. A piece of writing is nothing less than a peek into the soul of the writer. You can’t write about something you don’t believe in. You can always write against something you don’t believe in though.

When I got initiated into the world of writing I so strongly believed that writing should be sacred. I have read too much to believe that now. Writing instead should be honest. You might touch upon some subjects considered to be taboo, but it still will be honest. You are one unique human being, absolutely unmatched in anything. Why should you be forced to see something as ‘some particular thing’? Everyone has his own perspective. That’s what makes us all interesting. Stop brooding about the good things others have. Count your own. It is simple – if it pleases you, it’s good. Believe me. Until of course, it involves hurting others. Everything has boundaries. Don’t be literally drunk! You don’t have to be a hero, but don’t be a villain either.

In the lives of working professionals, a Saturday is perhaps the most loved day. To start with, the word itself has a pleasant ring to it. The fact that it is followed by something as awaited as Sunday, pulls it ahead of all other days in the race – we all agree that something that has a Monday at the end of its tail can’t be all that good. So make the most of it, not by drowning yourself under the weight of alcohol, but by engaging in a real activity, something constructive. Something creative.

Understand that you can’t put a price on something that generates happiness within you. It is a rare commodity. People may come harsh upon you and tell you that such an activity is forbidden. But then, forbidden is pleasurable as well as achievable. Don’t go overboard though. Excess of everything has repercussions we can’t digest. That’s why they are called bad.

Talking about freedom of writing, I come across so many ingenious writers everyday on internet, that I wonder why aren’t they published yet? But then getting published is not everyone’s aim. I read bloggers that are just incredibly talented and thorough. They are so prepared. They are meticulous and impeccable. I bow in front of them. I learn from them. Even though they do the honours of liking what I write, I know where they stand. And I have a lot to learn from them. It is only their humility that they appreciate others. That is what is amazing in the blogging world. We encourage one another. We appreciate novelty of thoughts, and honesty of expression.

Each one of you is my inspiration. People from all walks of life. Committed to writing. Sharing their lives, and ready to read that of others. Words are music to us writers. Keep creating symphonies. We are here to hear you. Be loud and original enough to reach our ears though, as there is so much of noise around. Once you separate yourself, we will catch you and listen to you. However, don’t just be loud for the sake of it. Put your feelings into your words, and rest assured we will hear, as we are all trying to be heard.

What to choose, what not to?

I was reading a book this morning, completely lost in the words when a back-stretch seemed necessary. With that I lost the focus for a split second, and the problems that I had been avoiding thinking about stormed back into my head. These are the real life problems, the ones we all have to face and deal with even if we don’t want to. And each one of them demands resolving. Think about them logically, choose the best solution as you can, and they will at least stop throbbing your head. Try avoiding them, and they will make sure to seep in at the slightest crack of opportunity.

It is true that life is all about making choices. I belong to a part of the world where parents take care of their children for as long as it is possible. In fact, unless the children leave them, they are more than happy to spend their whole lives with them. Though the world even here is moving towards nuclear families, the first choice is to stay together. And to the surprise of many, I still live with mine. My father is still the main guy at home. For these reasons, choosing for my own self came pretty late as per the standards of the developed world. And now when I have to do it on my own, I realise how difficult this is. My father has made some very big decisions in his life, and I can’t help but respect him, even more now that I understand.

Dealing with people everyday and saying the right things at the right time is the most difficult part of my job, as I feel. For some it is a cakewalk though. Now that may send out the message that I am a reserved person. Actually I am not. It is just the pretentiousness and formal engagements that I dislike. Give me freedom to talk, and I can compete with the people with three bottles of beer down their throats. But now I have finally chosen to be myself after all, and I talk the way I do, and that seems to be working as well.

People from management often tell me to be a little more strict with the team, a little less open with them, and a lot less considerate. I might not win favours with my supervisor, but my team likes me. And that makes my day at work a little less of an ordeal. I like a frequent laugh, and that keeps me fresh.

Having said that I have almost decided not to continue my job. Putting data into excel sheets, and making sense of the numbers don’t excite me any more. This is a tough decision. Another choice I have to make. And somewhere deep inside I am very very afraid. I wish my father could make that choice for me and tell me what I should do. But his choice is so predictable – the job. So I can’t entrust him with this responsibility. Too bad, life would have been so easy. But the universal truth is that only I know what I like or don’t – no one else does.

But this is a problem, and it has to be resolved quickly. I know what I want but the logic, the bloody logic jumps in the way uninvited, too often for my liking. Thank God I have this blog to transfer my thoughts to.

Uncertainty – Scary yet Exciting

Few people dare venture into the world of uncertainty, especially when their current position is pretty secure – howsoever unsatisfying it may be, but security brings peace of mind. A mere deep rooted desire seems inadequate to stir a man free of the clutches he himself has grown around him. So many people around me, working tirelessly for a livelihood, don’t want to do what they are doing. But they don’t know what they want to do either, so they will continue till the end of their lives. And they are fairly safe. Unsatisfied they may be, they will always have the money to meet their ends. A passionate man, someone who wants to do something else and knows what it is, is a danger to himself. He might ruin himself in his pursuit of happiness. Worse if he only knows what he wants but not how he will achieve that.

There is a very thin line between a practical approach and a negative one. Negative thoughts are much more devastatingly powerful than positive ones. You have to make efforts to push good thoughts in, and more efforts to keep them there. Negative ones will always find their own ways inside through various routes you don’t even know exist. So when you decide to follow something you love, and there is a sacrifice involved – a big one like your current job, you tend to slip in and out of water frequently, drowning one moment and breathing the other. And if there is a family to support, you are bound to fall into the waters again and again.

Yet there are people who forcefully move ahead in the direction of their dreams. Leaving everything aside. Full with hopes and optimism. Keeping no backups. They don’t think backups are required – they believe they have no options. Only a single point to focus on. I often wonder whether they are made that way. Is this doggedness a constituent of their being? Whether acquiring these traits is at all possible if you don’t naturally feel that strong, but want to be.

We come across so many people who are making it big in the fields of their choice everyday. Everyone has his own story. The story of disappointments and triumphs. Many of them started from scratch to reach the tops and were not even known before they hit the height. Yet their lives have gone into reaching that line of vision. That final step brought them to our notice, the thousands before would have gone unnoticed if that one final step had not been taken. And there are many who fall from just below the pinnacle.

Considering the risks involved, is it advisable at all to go for something that uncertain? Why do books all around keep pushing us to try and reach our dreams? There is a certain excitement in doing what you love, I know. The excitement you have long forgotten. It was there when you were a child. You did things only when they excited you. Remember running around in muddy water under heavy rain playing football barefooted, or dancing behind closed doors to you favourite dance number? Cartoon shows, comic books, movies, taking cold showers, lying idle, early morning cricket, late night gossips, unexpected holidays from school, summer vacations. There was so much of action. We lived life. We had good days as well as bad. We reached highs as well as lows. But we never had dearth of excitement.

Monotony does more harm than we can think, unless that is what we love. Uncertainty has a kind of adventurous quality about it. I read it somewhere that we all fail in life at one point or the other; it’s better if we fail while pursuing something we love, we’ll still be a step closer and a notch happier.

Anonymity Gives You Freedom

Does anonymity give you more freedom in expressing your true thoughts? The thoughts you actually hear tapping the insides of your scull. I think yes. For long I have been wanting to write about a few subjects that stir me inside, but since they are either too bold or too personal to reveal, I don’t go ahead. Which means I have consciously put a filter right at the place where creativity originates. In the end, it only leaves out the ideas that are safe to share, and non-controversial. But that is not how imagination prospers. Things offend others all the time, so if there is something you truly believe in, don’t worry, give it words. If you have trouble doing that, going anonymous will help immensely.

I have seen people judging others after reading a piece of their writing. Now that happens a lot if  your readers are the people you know in real life, and you write a lot about your personal life. Unless you put a lot of checks in place, you run the risk of divulging something that you ought not to. And I am especially referring to the people new in the world of blogging. This breed of writers is always cautious of their image, and thus produces a work less than their true potential promises because of so many fear-filters.

I am not promoting anonymity if you can write without being troubled by what others would think of you. If you can do that the debate is over. People not afraid of anything while bringing forth the ideas they think are the best, irrespective of their social worth, are doing justice to the art of writing. But if you have to hide some and show some to be able to come up with something – best go anonymous and show it all. And original ideas take courage to be brought out in the open. They are often first met with resistance and loathing. So be courageous and write your heart out. Choose any of the ways but don’t hold anything inside. If it makes a good work of writing, it will be liked, howsoever bold it might be.

Worry Not..how?

I had quite a few topics on which I wanted to expand today, but then came in the way the most destructive mental activity – “worry”. I have always liked to stay out of worry’s way throughout my life. Now you would say everyone does. But, I beg to differ. I have seen people jumping directly into the puddle of tensions, fights, arguments, and just about anything noisy and violent, when they could have just be within themselves and enjoyed the music flowing through the earphones they were wearing. Some people handle bad situations in their lives well, so they don’t mind stepping into them every now and then. Though I have just read in a book that situations are what they are, neither bad, nor good – just situations. It’s your reaction to them that makes them good or bad for you or others.

I, on the other hand, tend to, so easily, get caught into the web of mental agony if something is worrying me. I just can’t throw it out. A heaviness clasps the back of my head, and it refuses to leave. That has been the primary reason I keep all my money invested in the most liquid assets, like bank deposits, mutual funds, bonds. Ask me to buy a piece of land, and I will freak out. I simply can’t bear the pain a big loan inflicts on a person’s mind, or the up-keeping of the land brings about. Likewise, if I have a task to be completed in the office the next day, I find it hard to enjoy ‘today’.

What should be done to pick the worry glands out of your brain? I know most of the times, the solution is right there, available, maybe just an hour away, possibly after the meeting, or the call, but the wait, the very wait kills me. Just for example I had this very beautiful poem all prepared and almost ready to be posted, but then came a phone call, and now I can’t look at the poem at all. I can’t even feel it let alone finalize it. The romance, the poetic thought process is all flushed out.

I have even tried finding a solution to the problem but it involves: first forgetting about it all tonight, and going to sleep (impossible!). Then, getting up early and setting off to a two-hour long journey, and meeting the cause (need to attend the office afterwards too). Behaving mature and all grown-up, when I actually want to slap the person (the cause of course is a human-being). But anger will only escalate the issue further, and again I’ll be left with an issue unresolved. And, that precisely is something I can’t tolerate. Unresolved issues. I have got to finish all of them to be able to relax. And there are too many of them everyday. And the bloody life is too long. Why can’t I simply write and read, sitting comfortably at home? Too much to wish.

Don’t you guys feel tensed about things? How do you tackle the pain worry causes to the head? How should one enjoy while a big, a humongous issue lies open somewhere, a place you can’t reach now – maybe tomorrow – but not now? It would help if I know there are people like me out there, or am I the only one so perturbed?