Summer at our doorstep.
The cold abates, the zephyr mellows, soft like linen it caresses your skin, the fog melts away, summer is at our doorstep, sweaty uncomfortable days and torturous nights plagued with mutant mosquitoes stands up and demands attention.
I hate the mere thought of what lies in store, I cant help but hope time stands still, come March and the great Delhi meltdown shall become, like a pot over an unabated fire, Delhi shall boil over.
Mere mortals like me shall suffer, without air conditioning, and always dressed in a black jacket I like millions shall be a victim of the ruthless summer sun.
Friday, February 15, 2008
Lost..
If I who I am is what I have, and what I have is lost? Then who am I? A conundrum nevertheless, a question without an answer, a thought without a process, a minute without a meaning.
The never ending quest of discovering and re discovering leaves you grappling in the dark searching for the soul that seems to have flown away.
Some times it makes me sad though, just to realize that its gone, I have to remind my self that some birds just need to fly.. Their feathers are just too bright.. and when they fly away... the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice.. but still the place you live in is that much more drab and empty when they are gone..
If I who I am is what I have, and what I have is lost? Then who am I? A conundrum nevertheless, a question without an answer, a thought without a process, a minute without a meaning.
The never ending quest of discovering and re discovering leaves you grappling in the dark searching for the soul that seems to have flown away.
Some times it makes me sad though, just to realize that its gone, I have to remind my self that some birds just need to fly.. Their feathers are just too bright.. and when they fly away... the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up does rejoice.. but still the place you live in is that much more drab and empty when they are gone..
The fountain of life, all confined in a minute…
Most of us spend every minute gone by without as much as giving it a second thought, like a mirage we let it dilute into the oblivion, failing to realize the significance of the minute in question gone by.
For most its just a moment, a moment of utter insignificance never to surface again. However what we do miss in the whole process is the structural value it adds to our lives, every passing minute is like a building block, a moment, that moment which makes us what we are,
Every second, every minute is a stepping stone to what we eventually end up being, a constant changing dynamic structure we call our lives is a result of the minutes we have seen pass us by.
Most of us spend every minute gone by without as much as giving it a second thought, like a mirage we let it dilute into the oblivion, failing to realize the significance of the minute in question gone by.
For most its just a moment, a moment of utter insignificance never to surface again. However what we do miss in the whole process is the structural value it adds to our lives, every passing minute is like a building block, a moment, that moment which makes us what we are,
Every second, every minute is a stepping stone to what we eventually end up being, a constant changing dynamic structure we call our lives is a result of the minutes we have seen pass us by.
Thursday, February 14, 2008
Just another day in paradise...
14th February
My feet were freezing, I lay cuddled on the driver's seat of my car, the day had dawned on me, and I had spent the night sleeping in my car, there was no particular reason for this blatant act of madness, it was sheer exhaustion coupled with nights of no sleep, which lead me to this drastic act of self torture.
The last few days have been as hectic as they come, a short trip to the west coast, hundreds of client meetings, a quasi verbal brawl with the Chief Justice, in all a superlative exciting package, and somewhere along the line it burned me down.
So there I was this morning, fresh from a night in my car, tired as hell, drained, life felt like it had it been run over by a freight train.
Am back at work, drained but alive, trying to get some useless research done, replying to the hundreds of legal opinions the boss needs.
From my vantage point I can see the boss sitting in a meeting with a couple of associates and I am so glad it aint me this time, every meeting with her is like walking barefoot on hot coal. And if it aint the coal it’s the dog, yes the wee dog, who loves snapping at you when the boss is around. Its funny how you have to work around the dog when you are briefing the boss. The dog sits at this vantage point on her desk right around all the files you need, and she just loves biting your fingers off every time you try and touch any of those files, so in all… it can be construed as fun.
This day shall roll on too, though all I can think of is my bed back home which patiently awaits my sorry arse… Evening come fast….
14th February
My feet were freezing, I lay cuddled on the driver's seat of my car, the day had dawned on me, and I had spent the night sleeping in my car, there was no particular reason for this blatant act of madness, it was sheer exhaustion coupled with nights of no sleep, which lead me to this drastic act of self torture.
The last few days have been as hectic as they come, a short trip to the west coast, hundreds of client meetings, a quasi verbal brawl with the Chief Justice, in all a superlative exciting package, and somewhere along the line it burned me down.
So there I was this morning, fresh from a night in my car, tired as hell, drained, life felt like it had it been run over by a freight train.
Am back at work, drained but alive, trying to get some useless research done, replying to the hundreds of legal opinions the boss needs.
From my vantage point I can see the boss sitting in a meeting with a couple of associates and I am so glad it aint me this time, every meeting with her is like walking barefoot on hot coal. And if it aint the coal it’s the dog, yes the wee dog, who loves snapping at you when the boss is around. Its funny how you have to work around the dog when you are briefing the boss. The dog sits at this vantage point on her desk right around all the files you need, and she just loves biting your fingers off every time you try and touch any of those files, so in all… it can be construed as fun.
This day shall roll on too, though all I can think of is my bed back home which patiently awaits my sorry arse… Evening come fast….
Monday, February 11, 2008
This is my Jehad….
This is my Jehad, this is my (un) holy war, this is my life, where I wake up to reality and wonder, why the world spins the way it does, riddled by hate, blood and deceit the world around me is tearing at its seams.
The nest I hide in, is my safe haven, but the minute I step out I can sense the rage, the anger, I can smell the pain, the poor suffering, children starving, begging, being forced into labor, everywhere I go, everywhere I look, I find emptiness, I find the essence of humanity being trampled by the reality of our existence.
It is sad that my Jehad is a selfish battle where I cant give anyone but my self happiness, I am alone yet surrounded by those who rubbish my claims and those who stand by me.
I cant stand and watch these blatant acts of self destruction, Kidney kingpins, overtly sensitive lawyers who cant watch to people share something as beautiful as a kiss, a leader who aims to tear the secular seam of this country, who threatens to treat humans from a different part of the same country as dust and dirt, I cant face to stand my fellow countrymen re- electing leaders who washed their hands in the blood of thousands of innocent Muslims.
This is my life, this is our reality, we are all surrounded by this filth, this is my Jehad.
This is my Jehad, this is my (un) holy war, this is my life, where I wake up to reality and wonder, why the world spins the way it does, riddled by hate, blood and deceit the world around me is tearing at its seams.
The nest I hide in, is my safe haven, but the minute I step out I can sense the rage, the anger, I can smell the pain, the poor suffering, children starving, begging, being forced into labor, everywhere I go, everywhere I look, I find emptiness, I find the essence of humanity being trampled by the reality of our existence.
It is sad that my Jehad is a selfish battle where I cant give anyone but my self happiness, I am alone yet surrounded by those who rubbish my claims and those who stand by me.
I cant stand and watch these blatant acts of self destruction, Kidney kingpins, overtly sensitive lawyers who cant watch to people share something as beautiful as a kiss, a leader who aims to tear the secular seam of this country, who threatens to treat humans from a different part of the same country as dust and dirt, I cant face to stand my fellow countrymen re- electing leaders who washed their hands in the blood of thousands of innocent Muslims.
This is my life, this is our reality, we are all surrounded by this filth, this is my Jehad.
Wednesday, February 06, 2008
The World Spins Madly On.
Every now and then I wake up and realize the world I knew, had moved on, it had changed, not sure about the good bit.. but it had changed aright, friends were either dead or married, not sure which one’s worse though.
I, on the other hand, still sit at my study, trying hard to appease the savior within.
It aint helping, frankly everything is moving too fast for my own good, am I losing touch with reality? I wouldn’t know, an answer I might not have.
Every now and then I wake up and realize the world I knew, had moved on, it had changed, not sure about the good bit.. but it had changed aright, friends were either dead or married, not sure which one’s worse though.
I, on the other hand, still sit at my study, trying hard to appease the savior within.
It aint helping, frankly everything is moving too fast for my own good, am I losing touch with reality? I wouldn’t know, an answer I might not have.
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