My life story.

"Unable to excel, I tried to affect a kind of louche, bohemian indifference to "the system"; but I was never cut out to be a decadent either, and only succeeded in making the leap from quietly anonymous to ostentatiously pitiable.  " - anon user about his life experiences on Quora.

My life story. Except that from being  ostentatiously pitiable i slouched myself in to being quietly anonymous... and then in to a nobody without interests or ambition..

democracy-kleptocracy

I read somewhere long back that the society cycles in a chain of systems from monarchy to oligarchy to democracy to autocracy (not in any order). It cycles not because of the deficiencies of the system, but deficiency of humans. We fuck the system up. Like a child running for the toys, we run from one system to other through ages and then at the end fuck the system we adopt and we keep goin round n round, without improving us! (I beleive that's one of the reasons scriptures and all the wisdom of the world highlights to the importance of morality)

To get to the point, i often find myself in this mental quagmire, this hopelessness of living in this kleptocratic, this corrupt, this sick system, where everyone loots.From MP's to MLA's to corporators to office bosses.. just everyone. Every other day, the news of these neta's looting by the thousand of crores just makes me wonder, am i the biggest loser trying to save up on those 100 rupee notes here and there, justifying to myself to use of money as a utility and not as an enabler of easy. Neta's building palaces, corrupt colluding corporate's and their loser progeny enjoying the silver spoon. These reservationist babu kids living an insured-overprotected life from birth to pension of their sarkari job's in their accounts till their last breath. And i just feel sick thinking about those maoists, fighting these crooked neta's day light banditry on their land, their resources.  And i see just how, there's no escape. No transition to communism or oligarchy or autocracy could ever save us. Without morals, nothing works. And hopelessness pushes in to depression, on my own lack of morality. What about my own discipline? my own righteousness? Who am i accusing? 

I don't know what to make of it. I kind of cycle in emotions of chauvinistic-love and despondent-hate. I read of army and ideals and morals only to discover how corrupt army is. How hollow ideals become in face of human depravity. And weakness of morality, something that is just so easy to transcend in to the doom of hubris. Something we (i) do for a fickle! 

Slick

I have never pulled off somethin so slick.. like ever in my life. Ever.


It was stupid. It was foolish. It burned my hard earned money.
Yet through a slick move, i just recovered whatever i could, from a near lost investment.
Bloddy hell! i feel confident every living hour since ive pulled it off.

If ever something positive come out of it... i will make the post public of what it was, which is not at this point of time.

May the prayers be answered. Amen.

orchard road

So there i was, in Singapore, on Orchard road. The prim and proper, uber cool, ulta expensive, high end road of the rich. Mall after Malls selling ONLY designer labels. No place for even a decent high end brand. No Nike shoes. No Louis Philippe shirts. No Giordano. No sir.Nothing to shop (well i did want to buy some watches, lest i had a few hundred thousand $'s to spare :P ). I was alone. Bored. and pretty much out of ideas. I dont do this often (okay, sometimes i do), but i ended up following people here and there.


Saw a lot of things today. An arab man of 50's may be 60's walking around (flauting?) his wife of 20's. Followed him(her?) around for some time as they hopped from one designer label to another. Then i stalked a Punjabi family. Aunty ji , Uncle ji and Bahu rani (:P). I know she was the bahu, for i had seen the entire family of five last evening at the skypark, Marina Bay Sands. That time they were wondering how they could go up to the pool area (reserved only for bay sands guests), with their 20$ tickets.


Aunty ji: "Assi udhar kyun ji jande.. kaafi vadiya dikh rya sii~"


They were probably the proverbial delhi/punjabi rich, but i guess, owing up some designer labels was proving too much for them. They ended up in some coffee store, sipping. I left em.
Discovered then, this amazing amazing CD shop. So kitsch, so upmarket and yet so accessible and open. "That CD shop". Loved the music, whateve they were playing. Found a swiss chocolate store. Bought some Swiss chocolates, the only thing affordable i could find.


Legs were tired, yet i wandered on. Following this awesome looking chink aunty. That aunty was rich! i tell you. I could literally smell the brands. Miu-miu clutch. Some awesome perfume. And a man, who did NOT look like her frnd/relative carrying all the bags. She reached the door and there came the chauffeur with her Jaguar (nice choice). She left. So did i.
Little India i went. Hopping at little India and shopping at Mustafa. A delectable north Indian dinner ensued.

serendipity

Truth be told... I have an elephant in the room.

Well, actually its a lady miss. And she is in the other room. She is here cause she has run out of an abode to live, this (un)fine evening. And will be staying on for a few days.
Its actually a little weird. I have shared my pigeon hole of a studio apartment with my mom for 20 days. Dodo was here too.
But this is weird. I barely know her. And while she sleeps, i am feeling weird every second. I have tried to make her comfortable, and i hope she ain't feeling weird.


***
So that brings me to child abusers. :P

Well, not exactly again, but its kinda related. Lemme explain how. Ive always felt this thing to return the favor. Its kind of innate... you know.. it just feels natural to feel like it. Its like, if ive been treated in a certain way, good or bad, i try to return back the same, to people, and to society in general.
(Btw, this is something of a very common patter that child abusers also seem to have. Usually they themselves are unfortunate to have been mistreated in their childhood.. weird correlation, i know.)

I was given a second chance in life, once by my dad. To drop and year and pursue my dream. It probably changed my life. And now that second chance is very part of me. I often try to correlate situations and circumstances, with other people, which call for a second chance. I am more than willing to give people, related or unrelated that chance. Its just the way i feel. I got my second chance. And i want noone else to be left out.

A few months back, i was out of shelter myself. Ditched by flatmates, i was about to be flatless and homeless. And out of blues, friends (Rohit & Harish) welcome with open arms and doors, at their place. I move in, stay with em for some time. Probably the greatest help at the time, i can think of. And when the lady miss, had this place problem, i was kinda confused. I absolutely dint knew about her. (seriously!.. you know.. thoughts of landlord... and rape allegations :P... what not...). But this thing of being shelter-less. I had been in that situation. Its uncomfortable and a damn pain. I am glad to be of help. A favor that frnds did to me. I am giving back. Kind of my lil way to keep the balance of universe.

DO NOT SPIRIT BOMB

Shit hits the fan, for absolutely no reasons. Stupidity i can say, this time.

There are these microbial termites or some bug that's on the underside of my wooden table. Its kinda eating it up and powdery stuff keeps falling off. And am so sick of it. And that fateful thought... i thought, must do something!

So off  i went and bought half liter of paint thinner (i guess it kinda kill those wood bugs, read somewhere) .
And on my quixotic attempt to rid the table of bugs, i poured the entire contents of the bottle on table wood... only to realize that ITS WAS THEN that shit hit the fan...

Table was in my living room and... The entire house has acquired this thinner smell... and the more i inhale it... it make me drowsy and nauseated and funny!

My house is transformed in to a chemical factory in a matter of minutes... its been 6 hours, the smell aint gone!!!!

F*88!

A train of thoughts..

Gawd, i love train journeys. Long train journeys. Ive grown up in train journeys. Hyderabad to patna. Delhi to patna. Delhi to tinsukia. Delhi to Chennai.
General, sleeper, first class(these are ones where it isnt AC but a comparmenet has gates AC 1st class style, i think then dont have em now on trains), 3rd AC, 2nd AC, Rajdhani, Shatabdi.. ive done it all.Travelling back from Bangalore to Delhi, in a train, after more than an year, it feels like home coming. Just feels so great.
Been there, done that.

The train journey's are awesome. The best part is the night. It gets friggin absolutely pitch black. Cherry on the cake...what i see out of the window right now, is straight out some movie scene... It gets occasionally illuminated by thunders, tearing through the sky. Cant hear em, but see the landscape, i can.
Passed an empty fucking station, a few minutes back.. and it was so awesome. Not a soul. No station name. Not even a dog. Just illuminated empty station. Haunted? :-O
Feilds... mountains.... plateau.. ravines... towns... hutments.. chai... if once craves to go out.. see India... travel trains. You get every thing wholesale.

I regret the taste of luxury, naah, this dependency on luxuries, i seem to have depend on.. AC kind of seprates you from what awesomness trains
actually are. The sealed windows are like prisons. Sleeper class.. night time... your head resting on the window grills.... I dunno, i cant describe a more
liberating feeling. I cant decribe in words the way you can see the world sitting on the coach gates of a speeding train.. crossing a river bridge.
The sight of river waters, beneath your feet... seperated by the rails and towers of the bridge.

Adios... its getting late.. and i wonder, what mobile bill am going to blow up, for this internet on train..

alive

Its been so long since i wrote something. Mostly cause the fountain of words just stopped. Tried last few times, but the words wont just come out. And the other times, it just felt stupid writing it all up. Personal. Stupid. Open.
Even now its really hard. I dunno what the purpose of this blog is and why i just don't delete it. Is it about specifics, or the bigger picture or a personal diary. The posts that i wrote sound so stupid and senseless and boring. Any-case i don't read them. And i cant even if i try to.
May be its the memories. May be the sacrosanct college-life connection, when even stupid was innocent and acceptable.

Life has changed. And so has its meaning. The dawn of college ending has given way to the sunshine of professional life. Sometimes, warm and a lot of times scorching. Days pass like they used to in college, as purposelessly now, as they were in college, only in a more meaningless and lifeless way. I float around in office, flounder on the weekends and alone in evenings. I cook clean and lay around in a bachelor-pad that ive come to call home.

Life is boring,dull and lifeless. And days just pass. Still alive though.