Back(B)log

January 21, 2009

For Bob, Wherever You May Be...

Bob is dead! He just died. Peacefully and in his sleep. It happened three days ago. Bob was feeling a bit low (low battery). So I plugged him in and went about my day. I come back in the evening and prod him to wake him up and I get no reaction. Not even a beep or a tiny blue light that says he's awake but doesn't want to open his eyes. He just lay there on my table. Cold. Unfeeling. Unresponsive. I knew something was wrong. "Bob?", I asked quietly. Just as I expected, there was no reply. The enormity of Bob's reaction ( or lack of it) came crashing down on me. I went "Nonononono!" . I nonoed some more. Then, like I always do in times of crises, I called up friends. I had to talk to someone. Piggy didn't answer the phone. I messaged La instead. She sympathised. Wasn't enough. This looks like a job for Dad, I decided. So, I called him up. Poured my heart out to him (No. You aren't getting to read what transpired during that conversation. No way!). Told him Bob was gone. Again. (Bob's already died on me thrice before. I swear. That guy has more lives than a cat!). Dad was all calm and collected like he always is (Grandpa tells me the only times he totally lost it were the times when he was about to become a father. Seems he was a bundle of nerves those two times). We discussed Bob's options. Bob's life insurance had just expired. We couldn't do anything to bring Bob back from Hades until the Dell people had processed my application for warranty extension (which they should. Considering the fact that I have sent them a demand draft for eight thousand bucks.). Then there's the fact that I'm leaving for a holiday and then home. Meaning I won't be back here in the big city till this month end. So, Bob stays in his canvas coffin till then. I hope Bob forgives me for the wait. I miss you, Bob! I would like the reader to maintain a minute's silence as homage to Bob's spirit. Thank you!

January 16, 2009

The Indulgent Ascetic

      Holidays make a totally different person out of me. Every single time. Vacations are, well, different. Sometimes, I'm over the moon with joy during the holidays. Other times, I can't wait for college to reopen. But, this is the first time, I've had no time to do the things I wanted. Either I don't have time, or my friends can't seem to make the time. We have not managed to find a date when all of us are free so we can meet up. Which is why, we've been forced to find a day when most of us can make it. We recently went to the Zoo (That's where Hippobottomus resides). The Zoo, under normal circumstances would be a nice place. Somehow, it reminded me of one of those toadstool houses that Enid Blyton puts her fairy characters in. Only, when we visited the Zoo, it was half demolished (Apparently, Hippo is getting too big for her room. She'll kill me if she reads this post. I fervently hope Sparks has forgiven me for all my sins and she won't bring this to Hippo's attention) (Actually, we all know that's exactly what I want and I'm only writing it so that Sparks won't forget to bring it to Hippo's notice).
   Hehehe! I just imagined a hippopotamus standing at attention. Picture this: A really fat hippo with a whiskery chin and tiny, beady eyes; a belly that would put the good Frair Tuck to shame; thick flabby limbs and great yellow tusks that look like oversized rabbit teeth. Picture this character standing at a stiff attention. Hehe!
   Hippo's mom is one cool lady! I wish She was my friend. Her bro's okay too. Nice guy. The way she went on about him, I was expecting a real bucket of cold water.
     There you go! See where I started this post and see where I am now! Back to where I was.... Where was I? ... Oh yeah, holidays! This holidays has been relaxed at the best. Boring at the worst. I feel like a convalescent. Recuperating after a long bout of...I don't know, some strange disease (like the exams. If that isn't an epidemic, I'll change my name. Just for the record, my name at present is Rookie) ? Empty corridors remind me of sterile hospital wings. I feel like I've been quarantined. Contained. Like a dog that's been told to sit and stay.
     Holidays like this one bring out the ascetic in me. All I need are my basic necessities. Food, water, clothes, room, laptop. These, I keep to a bare minimum (Not the clothes!). My mind runs on a one track railway. That too narrow gauge. All I do is wonder when my next meal is, what songs to listen to, how boring it is to walk down the corridor to the filter and fill up my water bottle, when to sleep, and so on. Of course, there are other things I'm supposed to be doing during these holidays- like studying for the CAT exam, losing weight, visiting relatives and stuff like that. It really helps a lot that my conscience doesn't bother me much. Life is so simple. Who needs drugs to clear out things? All we need are more holidays!

January 15, 2009

A Lot to Write Home

   Here I am again. Writing away. To what end I don't know. Seems to me I have a lot to post here these days. Do I have a lot to tell? Maybe. Depends on whether you get what I'm saying or not. Before I go further, let me warn you. I'm in one of my philosophical moods. Its one of those times when I keep typing. Without making sense to most people, but making a lot of sense to myself and a few who are of a similar mindframe when they read this. If they read this (See what I mean? I'll keep doing things like this. At times, I'll be contradicting myself too. Actually, I won't do something like that).
   Now I'm stuck. I just lost all those thoughts I was holding in my head. My train of thoughts got derailed, so to speak. I've been thinking a lot. About a lot of topics. About a single topic.....I don't know what to write anymore....I give up. This post started out so well (though I say so myself). Damn!

January 12, 2009

Wearing Your Mood

      "Right now, I feel like my stubble.", I said to The Nut Case today.
   I don't feel like growing a stubble or something. I just feel like the short, prickly carpet of hair adorning my lower jaw. Like my entire being - soul and all - is confined in it.
    Weirdo - You might label me. Let me explain. In my own abstract way. Using disconnected thoughts that spring up in my head. Each firing separate neurons with tiny sparks of electricity. Right now, its a veritable electrical storm in my brain. Poor thing's getting fried.
     Have you ever thought about it? How your clothes and your physical appearance, in general is an unconscious reflection of your mental state. Your mood is what you wear. If you're all happy and jumpy, you're looking properly groomed. Laundered clothes. Maybe even an occasional ironed shirt. If you're down in the dumps, you're clothes are just the opposite. You neglect to check your appearance. If you're feeling sunny, you dress like one. Maybe even accesorise with a wide smile. Confidence shows when you're in bright clothes or in the more subtle power dressing mode. Certain people even reach a stage I call - The Nothing Can Go Wrong Stage. I'm in this stage when I'm wearing the most outrageous combinations. My favourite happens to be a pair of jeans I bought when I was in the 7th standard. These jeans have been washed and sun-dried so many times that they are faded to a point where they can't fade anymore. I outgrew them a long time ago. So I improvised and chopped them at what used to shin-level back then. Today, they look like a pair of weird shorts that reach about 3 inches below knee-level with frayed ends that provide a fringe benefit for improving the whole look (Most would not agree with me. Don't believe them. If you've seen me in them, don't believe your eyes. Repeat after me - V, you look good in them!).
    Nowadays, I really don't like my mood. I'm mostly feeling empty and listless. Nothing seems really enjoyable. Not even friends. Thing is, if I sit down and think hard enough, I may be able to find out why. But, I'm in no mood for that too. That isn't how I do things. I prefer letting the answer come to me. That way, it won't strike me until I'm ready for it. I guess I'm stuck with being like this for sometime. These days, I go for the unkempt look with a scary regularity. Hair combed, but arranged so that it gives a complete wind-blown disarrayed look. Clothes are invariably jeans and t-shirts (both don't need any ironing). My face has a stubble. I usually am cleanshaven. But right now, I feel like keeping the stubble. It reflects exactly how I feel on the inside. A slump of the shoulders accentuates my mood.
    Time for dinner. I'm hungry. That doesn't change whatever my mood. I'm me again.

January 10, 2009

In Stasis.

    It's been quite some time since I last made an effort over a post. One thing happened after another. Life, it seems, has a very personal grudge on me. It has been throwing everything at me (yesterday, I got hit by a genuine ceramic kitchen sink!). It all started off with the Trial of Fire. That Ring of Death they call the semester exams. Semester exams sounds so unassuming. You might think, "What's the big deal? Study for a week before the exam. Go to the exam hall, find your seat, answer the paper for 3 hours and come out all happy.". If this is what you were thinking... You poor delusional fool!  Come to think of it, the exams went better than I expected. Except for the very last paper (on New Year's Eve, that too!), which I'm pretty sure I'm on the borderline (I'm making a big deal out of this because this happens to be my first time at the Nailbiters Arena). 
  Well, since then, actually since a week or so before the exams began, things have been going steadily downhill. I know how Nero felt. I feel compelled to play the fiddle too while my empire burns. It's a weird sensation, you know? One moment, your whole life as you know it is completely in your control. And the next moment. The very next second, you lose equilibrium. The house of playing cards that you so carefully built up has been blown away by just a tiny draft of air blowing from between the door and the floor. Its rather like watching a satire from the balcony. You have the best seat in the theatre but you already know the story of the play.
   It's the holidays now and I'm still stuck in a half-empty hostel because I have CAT classes (twice a week. Right now, 4 times a week. To make up for the classes we missed while we studied for our disastrous semester exams). It gets pretty boring out here where Loneliness is your only friend. If not for Bob and my music collection, I'd be questioning my own sanity (it has been under a microscope before. But always has been examined by others).
   The root cause for my frustration happens to stem from the fact that I can no longer open blogs anywhere in the campus (thanks to the moral policing of our Hostel Trust Secretary, who has installed a very efficient, make that exasperatingly efficient, netguard that blocks any website it deems uneducational). Result - I've been gaining a lot of general knowledge as wikipedia is effectively the only website I can open leaving out google.com and gmail. I feel cut off from the outside world. Stranded. Marooned in a seven floor island.
    Thanks to Piggy and Puppy and PerfectMelange and The NutCase and Dog-Killer who have been absolutely solid these last few days. Thanks guys. I needed you.
    This is my apparently strong facade crumbling. Watch it. It won't last long. Wallowing in self pity (or anyone else's pity for that matter) isn't something I do well.
 
   Here I go, turn the page.

January 07, 2009

Hurt

I hurt myself today,
To see if I still feel,
I focus on the pain,
The only thing that's real,
The needle tears a hole,
The old familiar sting,
Try to kill it all away,
But I remember everything.
What have I become?
My sweetest friend,
Everyone I know,
Goes away in the end,
And you could have it all,
My empire of dirt,
I will let you down,
I will make you hurt.
I wear this crown of thorns,
Upon my liar's chair,
Full of broken thoughts,
I cannot repair,
Beneath the stains of time,
The feelings disappear,
You are someone else,
I am still right here.
What have I become?
My sweetest friend,
Everyone I know,
Goes away in the end,
And you could have it all,
My empire of dirt,
I will let you down,
I will make you hurt.
If I could start again,
A million miles away,
I would keep myself,
I would find a way.
--- Johnny Cash