Saturday, March 20, 2004

the horoscope theory

i was talking with a friend about horoscopes. i think there is something very interesting in that. when i started seeing my horoscope initially it never used to match. however, now it does, as i have become more regular. i think thats because now, my life is moulded to my horoscope. atleast, subconsiously. we tend to read it, and then make our lives fit the pattern of the horoscope, thereby making it true which makes us want to believe more and more in it.

so the best thing is to not see them at all. becasue if you are, you are the victim of a control function. an external one influencing your life. a faceless god, in a way.
i guess making patterns for life leads to them ocming true if there is faith. and since there is faith, we believe everything to be true which leads to it becoming true.

isint life just hell?!

hey, i am happy these days!

Sunday, March 14, 2004

pico iyer

his book, cuba and the night has a remarkable line. i dont remember it exactly, but its something like this:

when people are not dependable, the one thing to hold onto are principles.

i think i am like that. i have seen in the last one year, that dependability is something unknown in most parts of the world. principles, can be the only guiding star. a good one, at that.

move on, move on.
dont wait for the stars to fall down.
look below, the earth has gone ahead
you're standing on the vacumm inside your head.

i am at work on a sunday, and its not so bad really. its quiet, simple. not like everyday.

Wednesday, March 10, 2004

the long and winding road

its the end of the road sometimes. this isint one, but sometimes it seems like one.
the abstract nature of my being has become me. life is suddenly without meaning. floating images here and there. without purpose, or thought. everything reminding of the past, or of the future. playing out in my head, sometimes all i can see is myself exactly how i am now, 10 years from here.

thats not good. the same chair, the same wall. just a different place. the same thoughts, and the same eyeball reflecting. the shine which used to be there, i heard had gone out. everytime i try to ressurect it, i am doing something else. till focus snaps in, and reality bites.

the requirements of my life are sometimes things that are so romantic that they appear to be the figment of that romance. somehow, every thought that goes through my head has a theory somewhere about escapism. gradually, all the possibilities appear to be the things that i would like to do but never will get around to. just because they are just those possiblities that people like me try to reach out to. but shouldnt. or so some other theory goes.

a spiral which ends in nothing. one which just comes back to the same place.
what i would like to do, is exit...stage left.

Saturday, March 06, 2004

I want to walk with you
On a cloudy day
In fields where the yellow grass grows knee - high
So won't you try to come

Come away with me and we'll kiss
On a mountaintop
Come away with me
And I'll never stop loving you

to someone who knows this song all too well. i would like to do this.

pirouette in a red red dress
naked feet and open hair
make believe in my head.

step onto my toes
and we will dance all morn
till your daddy comes home
time for me to snap shut

feel loved say nothing
look into those deep eyes
see hope and fear
the future and the past

love is a hard thing
to get into
to trust someone with your independence

time has gone by.
life has thrown surprises
most of the things i loved are gone someplace
the beauty from my past carries me forward.
hope and fear mirror
my eyes close, to a day long ago
when all on my mind was to reach one place
meet you looking through the door

and have you pirouette in your red red dress.
the pleasures of the past

most of what is written or told is firmly based on the past of the person. humans i think are incapapble of recreating in their minds emotions or events in the same manner as they had happened unless they have a similar experience to bank on. infact, if you read most of what is written, a lot of effort goes into description, or decrypting unique experiences into a language which makes it lucid to a larger population (which might have not gone through those emotions or experinces). perhaps in the process, language and writing is the common denominator and in that sense, diluted. the true essence of an experience in the writers own words, which make sense to him, would probably not be understood by most people. and since the objective of writing is to express and to be read, it makes sense i think to produce uniqueness onto a larger canvas.

why am i discussing this? to bring to the point that writing is a blast from the past. the summation of what we have gone through. things inexpressible in the spoken language. poetry comes closer to reality in that sense. and therefore is harder to understand. i have started liking poetry quite a lot these days. keats has started appealing to me these days. especially when i see the type of stuff he used to write. about birds, and things he saw during the day. about emotions, and stuff. it is interesting.

this has become a largish post. sorry.


Thursday, March 04, 2004

back to the future

it is times like yeaterday that make me understand the kind of person i really am.
a lot of moments in the day yesterday were like a jolt. like somethings that i believed i was not capable of enjoying, and then suddenly discovering those emotions which i love.
it is so different from the jungle i am usually in. alomost like that stream you chance upon. knowing however, that you have to move on after a short rest.

but its all worth it. today, movement and careers have probably destroyed so many things, that sometimes; i am unable to even contemplate the possibilities that have been lost. life's movement ends up breaking up people and the chances of a lifetime. not even being able to understand if there were any chances at all. even.

beauty is an uncomplicated person. not all the time, but when that person is with you. unwound and open, because there are no threats and no competition.

the white dress, and the brown eyes (you do have them?)
the bag and the black heeled shoes
walk, talk eat and sleep
enjoy the world you get to keep.
things will change
you will move
but the vision of you will stay glued
hey, baby, dont stop being you
cause there just aint nothing wrong in the way you move.
oh yeah!