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Originally uploaded by prerona.
its a state of being i almost permanently live in. not sad, but not happy. not listless, but close. not bored, but could be soon. wanting something, which either i cant identify, or i know i cant have. its when u cant muster up the desire, or energy, or will or life to either stay or go, run or rest, laugh or cry or stare blankly into the blue summer skies
i was driving home from work last night, very late. near empty roads. a wet slice of rain floating on the surface of the world, the clouds, the lightning, the grinning demons of the red, green, yellow lights distorted into the mirrors all around, that were made by the rain, & the gentle giants grumbling above intermittently, and the pictures that flashed through my head, crystal clear and with no apparent meaning or purpose, could have been a psychadelic dream.
another dream comes to a close, mid reach. now ill stop looking. the tape in the car starts singing my favourite song, a PJ. Helplessly, I sing along. Aloud. So I'm driving down Broad St singing out loud with Pearl Jam and Ben Harper. Probably, a good thing that it was too late for too many people to be out.
later, after dinner, i lie on my back on the terrace. the moon is full and fat. its a night for the wolf and the crow. as the clouds stroke the moons face, and the wind mine, i think about what i think about. i wonder how come i am almost always lost in thought, yet never think about anything constructive. i think a lot of us know v little about ourselves. i less than most. lot of times i see people who have these very strong ideas abt themselves, who they are, what they want, where they are headed ... but more often than not. they are so obviously wrong. and they will never see it till the time is right. noone ever see's anything till the time is right. thats why I find arguing such a waste of time. and 'resolving issues' ... whats thepoint? what r u going to resolve anyway.
also, i wonder about the most basic question again and again: what do I want out of life? somehow everyday finding the answers seems more and mroe important. and everyday the answer slips further away. i am slipping into my worst nightmare: to be born, exist & die ... like a cockroach. and maybe its only right. maybe thats just the law of nature that our recent generations with their swollen sense of self dont comprehend. there is, perhaps, no meaning to fathom, no purpose to strive for, no gods to worship nor 'The 1' to dream about. everything is biology and chemistry and fate or chance. whichever. who'd care, then. even as the words form in my brain, a childish bitterness and anger rise like bile in my throat. a mute, insane desire to kick out at life, hit back, throw away, reject it. i dont want to be a cockroach. but halfsmiling, a pan-like shadow lurks in the background. a more "mature" self, and it says, 'are you sure'?
i saw omkara. I really loved it. Spent all of Monday reading miscellaneous reviews. I think the one i liked best was this one by b.rangan. I have downloaded all the songs but can't stop listening to "O Saathi Re". I wonder why its so hypnotic to me? The words, the tune, the music are all great, but not that spectacular. I think what is haunting is the mood, of the song, of the romance, of the movie. the song, that sequence, those scenes ... for me, thats the perfect love story. isnt Othello the most romantic of all stories? even better than the beauty and the beast! wouldnt not any woman rather be love and be loved so deeply, completely and purely, for a brief period of time, find a giant of a man, a hero, a god ... even if you had to die at his hands ... than live forever with lukewarm feelings and half-people who will be sweet and loving forever, in their lukewarm way. personal point of view. maybe most women would.
coming back to the movie, i really thought always abt shakespear that though his plays were the equivalent of trashy novels and soap operas at some level, his character sketches were brilliant. some even made you hunger for more, like i still wonder what cassius would have been like if he had paid more attn to him in jc. but i think omkara dug even deeper in to the character and painted every shade even more brilliantly. my favourite 2 shots: kareena swinging at the door of her house laughing and teasing kesu and kareena swinging above ajay devgans body on the floor.
only thing i didnt like about the movie was konkona saying 'hasi bahut mehengi ho rakhi hai ...' 2ce too many (3'ce total). do people really have catch phrases in real life. dunno. dont care. it clashed, for me.
other favourite scenes, tyagi and the xgroom at the bridge and vivek oberoi with the man in thecar with the phone. yes. that the kind of sudden burst of helpless anger and simmering burning branding jealousy - like a summer storm - here one sec gone the next - that i know about
another ghostly scene was the one where ajay devgan confesses, jab dolly ke akho me dekhta hun (hauntingly familiar). but the best of all was when she sings him the song. the look on her face. the way she smiles. the trust. the innocence. the pride. the purity. like a kitten playing in the jaw of a tiger, blissful, bcz it cant comprehend a reason for anyone to hurt anything ... is what it reminded me off
memories and ghosts, is what the movie stirred. memories & snapshots stacked away in dusty back rooms of the mind. disturbing lazy and fat moths and sway cobwebs. is it some strange co incidence or is there some deeper significance, that so many memories have been stirring lately?
there's a certain type of book that i avoid. they dont all techincally fall in that category, but i do lump them together as 'self help books'. maybe they are all just books that try to tell you what to do. or maybe not. recently someone gave me one of these books to read and as usual i couldnt say no. it seemed to me at that time that it would be disrespectful to the feelings which prompted his wanting to share something he enjoyed with me. so i said yes and thought wtf, ill just try to force myself thru it just this once. as usual, i was wrong. it was a huge mistake. not only am i hating the book, i feel like its poisoning my mind and filling it with the weirdest of thoughts.i could just stop reading it and give it back, but i cant bring myself to do that for the same reasons i said yes in the first place. besides, i hate having haf read books in my read-list. yet whenever i pick up the book i am filled with loathing and disgust. disproportionate? yes. helpless? yes. indicative? yes. I know that if I had summoned up the courage to face the confrontation and said right in the beginning, when it was offered, or even soon after, that I dont want to read it, much trouble would have been saved all round. The Art of Saying No ... is something I need to learn. and fast! that and to avoid or run away from discussion bcz they look 'ugly'; bcz we cant change our basic natures, and there is a kind of tolerance for 'differentness' which comes from i know not where in some people, with some people ... which cant be cultivated, faked or forced
after a long time, i fell asleep alone in my room, on the mattress next to the window. i woke up, half afraid, half bored with sleeping, at about 3. the rain and the wind outside swirled around the house, around my room. it was a full moon night and there was a crow screeching on the terrace. drenched. its still raining, though its dropped down to a drizzle. even the rains are capricious here.
when i finally woke up it was 8. with wakefulness dawning realised the gnawing sense of
my horoscope for the day says "love is all around, if you can only see it. You may or may not have a romantic prospect in your life, but more importantly, you're surrounded by affection. Friends, family, coworkers -- they adore you". right ...
Originally Posted at Prerona.
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