Wednesday, May 14, 2008

"We Will Never Be Here Again"

All normal people love meat. If I went to a barbeque and there was no meat, I would say, "Yo Goober! Where's the meat?" I'm trying to impress people here, Lisa. You don't win friends with salad.
-The Simpsons by Matt Groening, spoken by the character Homer Simpson

I received admission confirmations from all the five universities I had applied to. I have received I-20s from two of them till now and third is expected soon. I might not be getting I-20s from the other two university because I am not pursuing the formalities they ask me to complete. I have booked my visa interview slot at the US embassy for University of Texas at Dallas. It is the best of all five universities I had applied to and have received an I-20 from. The average GRE score of international graduate students studying here is well above 1300 and I will find a lot of competition there. They already had a strict cut-off of 1200 which, alhamdulillah, I had cleared with 10 points. Allah, as always, will decide if I should get the visa and go to Richardson or if I should catch up with Infosys in July.

It's always nice to know what I am going to do when sun comes up again. It gives good sleep with a smile on my lips. Though there were small things to be done some day or the other, I hardly found that kind of sleep. I am finishing it taking around 9 hours of rest in every 24 hours. Just that I don't sleep for more than 5 hours at a stretch. It's all fine alhamdulillah. I already have some of the visa documentation papers ready which was completed by my mother. In the coming days I have to pay visits to a bank and a charted accountant who will help me with having necessary proofs of sufficient funds belonging to my parents and evaluate property.

After sleep, it is Facebook that takes the most of my time. I don't do much there - just browse around. Solitaire too seems interesting before something else catches my attention. Then it is music till I get bored again. I am not able to read much - I simply don't get the right energy to move my eyes over printed lines. There is so much to be read and I will regret if I don't finish before I don't find time for it. Somehow, tomorrows come and go and I sit silently not understanding what to think. This at least is better than thinking what was left incomplete. Something seems to be left incomplete but I am not able to conceive it.

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Me As Well

"Well," said Pooh, "what I like best," and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn't know what it was called.
- A.A. Milne
Though I have so many objects right in front of my eyes I see none of them but only what I have running in my mind. I don't see any faces or hear several voices as we see on TV, things are sharply discrete and they point at only one motif - true happiness. It's everywhere yet there are very few takers. I don't know where to start from. And I have no idea what I can write. Things overflow undocumented and my craving to have that touch never recedes. Not everybody is the same. It is not the same thing that gives happiness to everybody. Love for everybody is not the same.

I desire to write long essays directed to only one person with "you" in the paragraphs, but I do not know who that person is. I do not know why that "you" concerns me - a little less than hell of course. "You" is not a personification or perchance not even a human being. It is a craving. Or maybe companionship or perhaps an indignation or just an emotion not everybody acknowledges. Time is not the key. There are no locks. Those who call these patches as abstracts do not see the connection. They are not blind. They have chosen not to agree with the truth. They have decided to call themselves mature. They see authority as truth; not the truth as authority.

I asked myself a question whether I am the kind of person I would like to be a friend of. Apparently all I could see was I was biased and prejudiced. And more apparently I felt lonely. I would have rather called that loneliness as confusion because some times that is how generally it is perceived to be. We see what we intend to see when we are biased. We speak to create some worth for ourselves. I hear and I think. Will I prefer to be a friend to a person who is exactly like me? I tend to pull out solutions from the several things I hold in my mind. It doesn't mean I am confused.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

Castaway

What a strange narrowness of mind now is that, to think the things we have not known are better than the things we have known.
- Samuel Johnson
Last Sunday my aunt came to meet us at home. After me, she congratulated my father. He asked the reason and she said about my admission for MS. My father replied saying it was not a big thing to get an admission but rather the visa is more important. Three days back I spoke to my father about this because I wanted to tell him that admission too was important if not as important as the visa. I told him that there are those still waiting for admits and gave him an example of a friend who has scored 1470 in GRE and still has to wait. My father asked me what the probable reason for his waiting could be. I said "it's Allah's will". He asked nothing else.

I was going back to my school-days I still remember. I can still picture that day when I wrote a short note to my class-teacher on a piece of paper about a boy sitting next to me who used to trouble me a lot. I can still recollect my teacher tearing that slip after reading it and changing my seating in the classroom. The guy was a bully those days but later he went on to become a good friend before I finished my 10th standard. I wasn't confident enough that day to speak to my teacher but the thing was so important that I somehow had to tell him. And I had said it. It was the need. A desperate attempt of a human being to find happiness.

I remember one more occasion where I was made to sit beside a guy I hated talking to. I never wanted to get close to him either. This strong aversion of mine towards him had started when I had come to know that he used to eat pork. It would be like hell sitting next to him in the class those days. I could never bear even getting close him. Then I had myself requested my teacher and my seating was promptly changed. I had not told my teacher about why I wanted the change. I had just requested and it was made. I used to be a good student scoring good marks. It was a favor I had asked for and it was granted. That was an attempt I had made yielding to my preferences and dislikes. Later in my schooldays I got close to many who ate pork. I never had the problem again. I don't know how and why I changed.

Change has never brought any difference to me directly. It became natural for me and not having change always troubles me now. Life has always been smooth with right things coming at the right times with the lessons teaching me what I must learn with time. I hardly had to take any crude means to learn what I was, how I came into being and how life progresses. I never had to rely on those bad guys in the school to tell me half-baked things. I was the one to read them from the right places and ask the right people. I never relied on fun as a means to learn what is serious.

I am inexplicably weak at times with my heart and emotions. I cannot tell how hard it is to have so many things in mind and to live along with what all I keep in my heart. But it's all about only one thing. And for the rest, it hardly matters. I go down stairs in my house at 3:30 am and close the door. I hear some new noise in the kitchen at 2 am and I go there and check. I hear some movement in the balcony at 2:30 am and I check it ready to see that thief there and scare him away. It never effects me mentally. I don't even get moved when I see dead bodies lying on the street after being crushed by moving vehicles. It barely hits me to hear how brutally a man was murdered when I read it in the newspaper. But when it comes to matters of loneliness and companionship I don't understand how people bear it.

I remember some years back when I couldn't sleep for a few days after hearing a dog howling in the night. Since then, I have heard many such howls and I have myself gone out to scare the dogs aways. I am not afraid of meeting a thief there. I am not scared if some ghost would pop in from some corner. I am not afraid of the darkness as I used to when I was a kid. These days I only think of my fear I had as a kid and I call it human behavior. I used to be so afraid of even sheep. And then one day I started slaughtering them.

I wonder how strong people are when things are about heart and people. I simply cannot understand how they can be so sullen so easily. I don't get the point behind being bold enough to stand loneliness without complaining. But when I look back at my life, I have been there several times. I have spent tens of days at home with nothing to do and nobody around for hours. I have seen the day my aunt died and saw my closed ones crying and yet I didn't shed a tear because it looked naive to me. My aunt's death was just to take her to a step closer to heaven. She was a very good person. My grandfather's death didn't make me cry. I only miss him only to realize that he is always there with me in my heart. But then, there is this thing that I can't stand, and my heart weeps.

I have taken too many lessons. I have seen my mother not having money to buy me a snack worth a Rupee. And now I see her letting me have money ready to be spent in hundreds and thousands. Change was always welcome. There was guidance always. Never in my life was my brother or I scolded for skipping prayers. We were told that it was mandatory for us and we kept skipping them. Then a time came when we realized what we have been doing and what we are. We changed ourselves. Our parents gave the guidance. Never forced us.

I remember the days we used to have yellow bulbs. The low voltage of electricity never used to allow us have any other kind of lighting in home. I was perhaps around 8 years in age. That day I had woken up from sleep and I was crying. My father had taken me in his arms and was walking in the house with me still crying and was trying to calm me down. I remember the yellow lights. I remember being carried in my father's arms. I don't remember why I was crying. I don't remember when I stopped crying.

I don't cry much these days. These days precisely. I watch myself telling how weak I am, how bad things can be and how much more I need to learn. Then I say "typical human behavior" and I let it go. I always find this option and use it with ease. I see that there is absolutely no friction in my life, the future is brighter than ever, things are so easy and nice for me, and yet I search for problems with me and I make them to seem larger than the life I live. I make my own life difficult and then I realize I am doing it. And then again, like a serious man, I say "human behavior".

I see people around - many of my elders. I see them doing mistakes, creating problems for others, solving some, aggravating some, being pointless, having big ego and not being righteous. I see that these are the so called mature people. It doesn't confuse me to call them mature and see them be so illogical. I just say "human behavior". That seems to be an easy answer to so many of my questions of why people have irrational and at times unruly behavior. It is never a shock for me not to see them behaving unbelievable. It's fine and if it's creating problems for me, I let them go. I forgive. I forgive myself. I just make it a point to remember that so and so person has so and so weakness and so and so thing irritates him.

But what about my problem? It is insufficient to call it human behavior. I don't see it much around. It's getting typical only of me. Others understand it, listen to me, help me, I just don't help myself. It seems impossible most of the times. And then I realize the options. I can be numb. I can be indifferent. But I have tried it before and have been termed as a sullen son by my mother. She has called me emotionally hard many times. Perhaps I am not able to have emotions expressed in the right proportions in front of the right people.

A thing that makes me blush and go pink in front of my friends barely makes me even smile in front of my parents. Only my heart does the work. A thing that makes me spend hours doing nothing can so easily be ran over whenever I want to yet I prefer staying with it. It's all just how I select my option to be happy. The so called problem too makes me happy. It's not about immaturity, it's not about what is right or what can be wrong. It is mostly about what I have chosen and decided as good for me and think of that good as a means to keep me happy. It is nothing wrong but it is not completely right with those who don't understand. If somebody today calls what all I am writing here as crap I would call it human behavior. It's perfectly alright. We are a different people. I don't like curds!

I remember watching this movie "Cast Away". The actor in lead role is Tom Hanks and he is marooned on a lonely island. There he makes a face out of a coconut shell and makes that face his friend. He relies on the shell for companionship. He begins to love that shell for it is his only friend there on that lonely island. And one day he gets frustrated with its lifelessness and throws it away. The next moment sense comes to him and he runs to pick that shell back. He cries for being rude towards that shell. He apologizes. He weeps and places that shell back to a safer place - in his heart and also on a clean stone in the rocks.

I fell in love with the idea of owning an island after watching this movie. But this shell and Tom's love for it goes great with my emotions. Many times I create such shells in my mind. Just for the sake of happiness. I never throw them away. I give them a lot of importance with respect. I try to explain that importance to others. Some understand. Some refuse its very existence. I enjoy, I hurt myself and I live past the fears and grief attached to it. All along I remember that it is just a shell. And I tell myself "typical human behavior" not knowing how many people do that.

It's only in the luxury of the company of friends that I can be indescribably illogical and keep on blabbering staying only on one side of the story realizing only later that there has been another side too which I had been ignoring because my love for the friend I was talking to was too much for me to have any logic being discussed and though about. Later when I recollect what all I had spoken, I see so much not being coherent and consistent. Yet my friend remains my friend - I don't know if that can remain forever. I find it easier to give in to the intellect of that friend letting that friend decide what is right and teach me. That is luxury and a blessing.

Having no problems and creating some for ourselves is luxury. "My" human behavior is just to bring me out of my comfort zone and show me more things I can probably have with me - as a luxury. To satisfy my emotions is probably not my need. I am perhaps strong enough to keep them tamed. But why do I do it when I have the chance to let them grow and satisfy them? I might as well be weaker than others in this part of life. But that's how we grow - strengthening ourself with knowledge and wisdom. What if I remain satisfied with what is coming to me and never ask Allah for more and never try for anything? My life would be boring and there won't be any change. We have this human tendency. We need to move further up in our levels of endurance and achievements. Corrections are always welcome.

My Tea Has Gone Cold

My whole life is waiting for the questions to which I have prepared answers.
- Tom Stoppard
Three days this week I went to bed at Fajar. I don't know how time passes by when I am awake at nights but what I do know is that it won't be easy to forget these days I have living through. I woke up at 9:45 am today and slept after an hour again. It was on and off till very late when I left for my grandmother's house. I am not worried about the varied pieces of times in the day I am sleeping. It is sleep I am worried about.

Yesterday afternoon I was waiting for some of my friends to come home. It was a kind of trying not having any around. I was missing a few of them a lot, so sat in front of my computer looking at some pics when I realized that I need to have more of them. I wanted to call them all and speak but couldn't make the right judgement before sending a few messages through phone. Later in the evening I had four of them at my home and we went on to watch three movies in the night - Crazy Chick, Grudge 2 and Hitman. It was morning when I slept hoping and praying. Not to forget the full hour I stood outside my house with a friend around 3 am talking.

A couple of days back I went through some old posts I have written on my other blog. It makes me wonder after reading them how much I used to write, how easy it was to to throw everything on the screen and how difficult it is these days to imagine others reading it. I couldn't believe I could write those views, I couldn't believe I had written them apparently, and of course there were some points I wish were made to sound a little different. Some words appeared naive and the rest was fine. Writing can be so unbelievable.

The book I am reading these days is "Trump: The Art of the Deal". I had been waiting to get hold of this one and when I finally found it I had to wait before I could finish the one I was reading for more than a couple of months then. This book is fast and gripping but I have my exams on so I have to go slow. It's not that I am studying always and I can't take time for the book, it's just that I find so many things around that I feel deserve some attention and the book just waits there. "Atlas Shrugged" with its more than 1000 pages still to be read is a commitment I will make after I finish this one once I am done with my semester.

Since the day I spoke to my father over a cup of tea at a nearby hotel in the night, I have been waiting for him to tell my mother about it. She has opened that topic several times and spoke a great deal on it and asked my opinion too. My only answer was listening to her and keeping numb. I always had a chance to tell her what I think of but I find it more appropriate that it is spoken with a fair bit of seriousness and that it gave a favorable result. I am afraid of hearing a "no" here. I know my parents would be with me but I can't make any guesses about other parents! I might go nuts as well. I will stay on the better side nevertheless.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Grow old with me!

The soul that sees beauty may sometimes walk alone.
-Johann von Goethe
It's disappointing when I take time away from the computer or books to watch the home-team playing and they give a terrible show. A team that was rated as the best at the start of the tournament having some of the best batsmen in the world is expected to be better than the mediocre if not exceptional. There is something I tell myself whenever I sit in front of the TV: "never get carried away by it". It's good to have a line for everything.

I woke up at 3 pm today. It could have been much later if my father had not knocked the door. I still had a short nap after that and things kept looking dull until I took a bath. The other night I had slept for hardly a couple of hours which had made my head terribly heavy while I was writing the exam. Later in the day I went to check out some offer at Pizza Hut with my friends so had not taken any tryst with sleep till 3:30 am in the morning. Today's sleep gave me the much required respite from staying awake! The offer at the pizza's store was good but it fell heavy on my wallet.

It's not easy to pull out three paragraphs out of a day when nothing much has been done. And more difficult especially when writing all that's in the mind seems to be dangerous and sensitive for those who have a tendency to misunderstand it. It's almost an hour since I started writing for today and I have waited for a big part of it after finishing the first two paragraphs. Things don't seem to come to a finish - some things that are supposed to find an end, not all of the things! And there are those ideas that instill worry - once bitten twice shy, don't want to loose it again, it's never too early or never too late, why not?

Monday, April 21, 2008

Season New

I am not bothered by the fact that I am unknown. I am bothered when I do not know others.
- Confucius, The Analects
Among all the posts on blogs I have read till now and the ones I have written I have never come across a one like I saw on my friend's blog just a few days back. There were pictures in it and I can't explain enough how deep they could penetrate into my heart and spread happiness there. Though writing the old Chinese saying which was something similar to "a picture is worth more than thousand words" would sound dull and appear like a cliche, I was flattered by how my friend managed to give that much appreciated human touch. Never the memories of these moments will be forgotten by me.

It is always desirable to write sweet words in praise of friends, appreciate their companionship, write how we feel for them and when we are with them, write some refreshingly new quotes by young writers, present a few old adages on life, love and friendship and give gleam and perfume to our feelings in text. But they never suffice. To have the people right beside us, to be able to see them, to be able to hear them whenever we want to, to hear them when we don't know what we are looking for in our lives, and to hear them telling us that they love us, will always be by our side regardless of what we turn ourselves into...

Lines of similar kinds can go on for the reason that we all feel nice reading what touches our hearts. It is difficult to take the facts, accept them and live with them wholeheartedly. I salute all those who have stayed this way, never allowed their emotions to interfere with their intellect and never showed any signs of biased behaviour. I could never become that. I always had preferences and priorities. Some of these betrayed me, some became a lot more important than I had earlier thought of them as and some just remained as mere priorities. I didn't think much when I saw my friend's blog-post. The thinking had already been done and the result was there. There was no realization either - it wasn't required. There was a smile, extended gloss in the eyes and there were words "it's unfair that it has to end". Allah decides.

Friday, April 18, 2008

I Could Give Up Chocolate But I'm Not A Quitter

Perhaps it is good to have a beautiful mind, but an even greater gift is to discover a beautiful heart.
- John Nash, A Beautiful Mind
I had a wonderful time in conversation with my mother for about 15 minutes. I could have asked her for anything told or her anything. But I preferred letting her enjoy teasing me and my brother as she went on talking about my friends, then my brother getting married and then about I getting married. She asked me what would I would give my wife to eat. I didn't think of answering but she continued "pizza, burger and shawarma". I replied with "chocolate". But I didn't let that word come out of my mouth. It's too sacred and must be mentioned at the right times. But I asked her if there was any chocolate in the fridge right then. She said "no". I had been missing it for sometime now.

She had previously asked me why I didn't do the final project by myself and why I needed two people with me. Fortunately I had a friend there who explained her that it's not possible for a person to do a project alone and everybody has two people with them for it. After my friend left and took took time with me, she also asked why I had to do that project with only girls. She was laughing and so I took the freedom to give any illogical answer. I see that my parents and my brother leave no chance of creating fun of me. The only thing I don't like about them teasing me is when they use the words "Govinda" and "Himesh Reshamiya". I could have as well put today's title as 'A Beautiful Chocolate' but I don't want the movie to take any glory more than chocolate herself!

I finished watching 'A Beautiful Mind'. I liked it to recommend others to watch it. But it's I feel a matter of taste that one would like watching such movies. It's not always nice to see the hero impaired or helpless. I have a few more movies yet to be watched on my computer and a lot more with friends. It at times looks like a commitment to sit and watch even when it entertains and I like what it does to me. I am reluctant with almost everything but that's how it must be - we need to take time before we show any form of commitment. It's better that I don't get much into 'commitments' in this post.