The irrelevant void

Voids. Those tiny little empty spaces between life and its monotony. There are way too many voids in each person’s life. Some get filled. Some may not. And some others, may even go unnoticed as they get filled without our knowledge or appreciation. I have been thinking of such ‘irrelevant’ voids in my life, say, for past two weeks. Now, two weeks is fairly a fair amount of time to spare on ‘irrelevant’ things!

I walk a decent distance of half a kilometer every morning, towards my bus stop. And one my way, I have quite a lot of ‘irrelevant’ details to look at and often smile at. The ‘petti-kada’ auntie, the ‘chechi’ by the corporation water supply, the repeated questions about my college and morning greetings from a acquaintance, and the occasional black dog and the dark faced man. And there are (scary) dogs and cats and scary hussle of bikes and cars. And there’s the occasional glimpse of the black dog and the dark faced man. Nothing specifically that I look forward to, but all the more a part of my mornings.

And then one fine day, I walk along and see a black flag by the black dog’s and dark faced man’s house. There’s death in the air, but no matter what, I get my daily bus. So I walk past the house, not looking out for anybody in specific. And so passed a week, and I wonder where the dark faced guy disappered, along with the dog! A death at his home and all I see are stangers around, and kids performing the final rituals. Funnily now, the obvious still hadn’t struck me. And on the seventh day ritual, ‘sanjayanam’, I walk by the place again. Dramatically, through the gathered crowd, I see the dark face photographed and framed, with a garland around it. The obvious finally occured to me. And for the first time, I gazed at the board that bore the dark face’s name and occupation. He was an LIC agent. The irony didnt stop me, but something else did. I was tansfixed for a breif moment, for an awkward amount of seconds.

It is irrelevant, isnt it? Someone I haven’t talked to, have had no association with, whose name I didn’t even know while he was alive! It was just a ‘someone’ who died. But suddenly, it gave in for a large void and deep flow of thoughts. Thoughts that took me in for two weeks or more, and I have been thinking of the dark face and the black dog that suddenly vanished. I wanted to ask around. Did he have cancer? Did he die of a tragic accident? Did he commit suicide? I wanted to ask a lot of things. Almost a month, and I have been still thinking on it. And finally today, I got the answer. He just fell in the bathroom, hit somewhere and just simply died! A plain simple death!

It’s not the death. But the absence. The sudden void that shook me. I am not even sad for him. Come on! I didnt know him at all! But I miss some presence in that road, in my mornings. A haunting feel that makes me realise how many such irrelevant voids make up our lives! Or my life atleast. I missed my acquaintance’s queries and greetings. He too passed away, but the absence wasnt felt this intense.

It’s often not how much you talk or how much you know, but simply if the absence is noticed. I choose to believe my presence may go unnoticed but not my absence. For me, I have always mourned upon absences even when I missed to relish the presence! To go back and look at someone else’s life, and see if your absence is felt, may be a crazy thought. Dare not to do it, anyway. It hurts like hell when the realisation strikes hard! Most presences in life are unacknowledged. Even more, most absences are unnoticed. Voids are, after all, irrelevant by nature!

Yet another year..

All those optimistic ********, stay away. This is so not for you. This is not happy new year. It is just another year. Just another night giving in, and a morning taking it over, in an overly repeated boring cycle of ‘life’! Aw! That’s just dusk and dawn! Not life or anything! Well, my bad I guess.

So people! What’s the whole hungama? I just wanted to cuddle into my shell for one single day without disturbance. And the whole world was out celebrating! Ah come on! It was just another night. Okay, pathetic self realisation. This is not about the world. This is just me. Haven’t you quite heard of ‘denial’? Even the brightest of the world’s minds are found to be intimidated and victimized by denial! So it’s not surprising that a humble soul as mine gives up too! (If you haven’t, you must quite give a read on denial!)

I have been having a rough patch in life. And this is what I do these days. Read about ‘denial’ and Doom’s day! Talk about ‘Inferno’! And in this mindset, when I think about new year, ah chuck that! I dont even think about it! (Denial again? Perhaps!)

One major thing about 2014 – I no longer have a classic phone. My last C5 died of a heart attack on 31st December, 2013. Now that the company has stopped production of the model, I guess, I am left with 2 choices. Either, enter the ‘touch’ era! Or, step back to the ‘classy’ 1100 days! Ah denial!

Hola! Happy New Year pal, for reading thru and not frowning yet.

Randomness!

Scene # 1

“Onnume sonna purinjukka mattengaradi. Thookathila kanavu kandu bhayappedaralam. Thoongave mudiyarathillai. Enna seyyanam theriya maatengarathu.” She talked on and on. What is to be said now? I turned around to him. He is not smiling. Why isn’t he? He always used to. Didn’t he appear healthier in the hospital? He even cracked a joke or two. And we laughed all afternoon. Yeah, laughed. But now, he is not even smiling. Is this what’s like being unstable? Shuttling between extremes! I inched forward,and slid a finger into his palm. He held tight on to it for a second and then let it go. He wouldn’t hold it anymore, no matter how long I waited. Like a baby who plays with your finger, only till its fascination. “Antha hanumanoda manthram sollindu padutha porum. Appo pinne swapnam onnume varathu. Illatalum, enna swapnam kandu bhayappeda! Ellarum irukkomillaya inga.” Did he hear that? Yes, he did. He’s thinking now. Even trying to say something. He’s trying hard to recollect the stanzas, uttering the first line. Did he seek help? Perhaps not. He was trying to revive it back, and fill in the voids between the lines. And I was trying hard too. I couldn’t recollect it either! Was it a bad thing to remind him now, about the better times of life? He was visibly struggling to get words out of the brain, and sound out of the throat. One stopped cooperaying when the other gave in. It’s like, his thoughts and voice won’t ever give up for eachother. Could he ever say what he really meant, ever in life? I couldntjust stand there anymore. Others had left already. I told her and got up to leave, went upto him and held his hand for one brief moment and turned away to leave. And there he took it over from, “Budhir balam, yashodhairyam, nirbhayathvam arogatha. Ajadyam, vakpaduthvamcha, hanumath smaranath bhaveth!” Did he not smile now? I smiled.

Scene # 2

To be continued…

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Echoes of the silence!

Can silence echo? Does silence take a form of sound? I am wondering. How do mute people think? I mean, I think in English when I communicate in English, or Malayalam or Tamil, or whatever is relevant. How does a mute person think? Aren’t thoughts associated to words? And words to language? And language to syllables? And syllables to sound? Don’t we all need sound to think?! Obviously, no. I know. It’s not the knowledge. It’s the amazement. It’s the sheer marvel of life around you. I see a lot of mute people here. In bus. In the road. Mostly, coz there’s some school/institute for them nearby, which I haven’t come across with yet. So my awe is not totally out of place. I always see them communicate with each other in those crowded buses. They want a seat to sit down so that their hands are free to communicate thru their gesture. I used to feel bad. But then thinking about what might they do in the dark, I often let the thought just pass by and close my eyes in silence.

Ganesh chathurthy. Grand procession was on its way from the heart of the city, to the beach nearby for the auspicious ritual. Huge statues of Lord Ganesh would be thrown into the sea in reverence. The festive mood had stricken the city and the crowd hustled in the backdrop of deafening audio systems. Devotion was at its peak, with the blaring woofers. And I was to get a phone call exactly then, as I maneuvered myself out of the chaos, of noisy people and shrieking sound systems. I could do nothing but to put the caller on hold until I was out of the vicinity. On the way, I spotted two people. Probably, somebody whom I have already met but hard to recollect. The one thing I could connect, however, was that they were mute. They were talking. Calm and uninterrupted. The deluge of the sound systems hardly made any impact on their conversation. Life stood still. As the moment passed, I walked away, turning back at them once more. They were still talking. Unaware of the deafening sound. Unaware of the marvel. Unaware of the admiration.

Dreams in Prussian Blue!

So I hear, the book “Dreams in Prussian Blue” by Paritosh Uttam is filmed as the latest Malayalam release, “Artist”. The book was a pleasure to read – very intense emotions conveyed in simple terms. Filming it was out of the question, from a reader’s perspective. But considering it was Shyamaprasad behind the screen, the same man from “Rithu”, (Forget the commercial success, the movie had a natural flow of life!), it is imaginable to see the book illustrated on the big screen. And lately did I notice that I have turned into a Fahad Fasil fan, owing to all of his movies’ impact! What’s so special about his movies? And there comes the obvious! Every single movie of his, that I have seen, speaks about nothing but betrayal. “Chappa Kurishu”, “22fk”, “Diamond Necklace”, “Friday”, “Red Wine” and on and on and now “Artist”! Even in cameo appearances, he has always been associated with ‘betraying’ story lines, as in “Cocktail” or “Indian Rupee”!

I doubt if this is even an interesting piece of information. But if atleast half the movies from my list above were a success in theaters, its solely coz of the relativity that people see in the movie, identifying with their on life. The extramarital affair, the rape, the gluttony, the robbery, the corruption, the lobbying – all forms of betrayal! The life around, the people amongst, the world outside, the soul inside. Until the book, it was a black. Everything about betrayal was black. But now, after the book, after so many movies on ‘betrayal’, I assume betrayal is colourful. As bright and as affluent as the charm of the vicious life around our esse.

Prussian Blue. Because, Blue is the colour of loneliness. Blue is the colour of sorrow. Blue. The colour of betrayal. And standing at that point, from where there’s no turning back. From where, there’s no falling back to things. From where, all we are left with, is to move on and accept things. And from that point, all we see is the rainbow – the brilliant shades of betrayal.

Blog-o-phobia!

Nay, I am not afraid of blogs. But people at my home are. They are worried that I am spy to netizens, leaking news from their privacy. 😛 Lately, at the end of every conversation, my dad makes it a point to add, “Daivame! Sollandamayirinthuthu. Iniyippo ithum blog-la varume.” (God! Need not have said this now. This is also gonna come up in the blog!) While my dad remarks this jokingly, my mom’s is a serious concern. She’s worried I dont know to draw the lines of discretion. She’s of the assumption that I let out my ‘secrets’ out here in public and I am so exploited by my readers! What does she know! Essentially, I am proving their fears genuine, by posting this one too. Thank god my sister aint much bothered!

A part of me seems to be affected by the same fear as well. A hesitation to write, worrying if that one unnecessary line might slip off my mouth (fingers, for that matter!). The whole idea of staying wound up in the irrelevant concern is stupid and I obviously know it. Shedding the cloak off me, I am trying to pitch up. I’d rather ruin my blog with stained words, than spoil my life in strained silence. Back again, hoping to stay.

And it’s time, they say!

How do you know if it’s time yet for something? How do you define being too late or being too early for something? I guess it’s mostly when someone else points it out to you. For instance, I didn’t think it’s time yet to write again. I didn’t notice how long it’s been since I last updated my blog. For me, it always felt complete and unfinished, at the same time. The duality was confusing, and I was dazzled by it. And hence, until someone pointed it out (threatened to write, to be precise), I didn’t realise it’s time yet, to write.

Looking around, it’s this unawareness of time and space is what makes our life. What’s the right time to think of your career goals? When should one join the gym? When is the right time to trim your stubbles? When’s time you get a full-body massage? When’s it time you get up? When are you ready to face life as you must? When’s it appropriate to talk about sex to your kid? When’s it that you jump into the middle of an argument? When do you make the right move on your love? When is it time you start saving and investing? When’s it time you go see a doc? When’s it time you perhaps stop talking? When is time for you to finally sit down and relax?

It’s too many questions to answer in a single go. A person finds answers to all these with life itself. Rather put, life is all about making the right choice of time, more than any other choice in life. Making the right decision is too easy and most of us do it all the time. And that’s where the flaw lies. All right decisions at all wrong times! Time is the parameter that we are too ignorant to notice, when that’s the only we should actually account for!

“Tenth standard already! It’s time you put him in **** coaching centre!” “24 and not married?! How irresponsible parents! It’s high time..” “It’s 6.30 and you haven’t started yet??!”  Time is a simple parameter, that completes the complex equation to life. Making time itself too complex, look at how we’d probably stare at an inequation to life by itself!

And it’s time, they say. For me to shut up and hit the bed.

Keep smiling!

Now that most conversations and relationships are maintained online, and there’s more ‘CAPSLOCK’ than actual yelling, more ttyl, more brb, more dnd, more cya, more whatever. Frankly, I don’t care. I don’t care if the soul in people’s communication is absent, I don’t care if emotions are dead, or if intimacy is lost or if distance builds between people! People are talking (rather blabbering) whatsoever! That’s more than glad! If you want warmth in your relationships, closeness with people of your life, and enliven the spirits, probably one should just go for it. Put your heart to it and do it. Online or offline. It’s not the means, it’s always the place where you make upto! Just wanted to say, to all those intellectual freaks, who lecture about how technology seeped into human relationships and fucked it up. How whiny is that! You don’t even know to guard your own mind and soul, and blame it all on the mind-less soul-less technology! It’s not gonna blame you back afterall!

But certainly, there’s one thing I greatly despise or find upsetting about the turn of events as such. These emoticons! Truly annoying! I’d rather say, misunderstood, misused and that’s such a mishap! Nobody ever fully gets what the other person tries to convey with a combination of colon, semi-colon, paranthesis and p’s and d’s and o’s! It’s been of such extensive use that it no longer means anytging. Well, use them anyway. I do too. They are the ice-breakers and once in a while, funny too. But I am sad how my smiles don’t pass by this. I put a : followed by a ) coz I actually really genuinely love to smile. And when I say keep smiling, I totally mean that. In the havoc of millions of colourful and disgusting smileys, I wish 🙂 could win the throne back and be the master of all smileys! Bring the pioneer back, I say! Back then, with the smiling face, was the only time we could actually communicate ’emoticons’ without confusion! A sad face, once in a while, was fine too!

Now thinking of it, ‘Keep smiling!’ was the motto of my school. The school that laid that basic blocks of my morale and principles. Wonder why it took me so long to assimilate the thought! Everytime, I saw that writing on the black board, I was wondering what’s up with the grown ups! Why would they even teach us to be escapists, run away from life, and ignore problems and just keep smiling? But now, at 21 years of age, I feel like Buddha! Like, the meaning just revealed to me. Like, all that I ever wanted was just buried so deep in my mind, next to a school girl’s confused thoughts! The answer reveals itself and it’s all in the smile. Putting it short, the whole deal here is that, when I tell you (you being my online conversation partner) ‘Keep smiling’, I most genuinely mean it. More than words.

Smile away!

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Zero zone!

That’s where I often am, these days. A zero zone. Zero emotions. Zero problems. Zero dramas. Zero people. Zero activity. Zero time. Zero place. Zero change. Zero thoughts. Zero. Like division by zero. So meaningless and futile. What can possibly come out of it after all! Being at the zeroth zone, the one thing I can’t help is falling out of it. Now and then. Whether or not I want it. The trouble is, why do I even have to fall out of it. It’s become more like my comfort zone these days. Its just so easy and light, to float in there, like zero gravity. It’s not even a compulsion from anything that I do get out of it, but more like an unmistakable cycle of things, as they are. It feels like a chain, all wound up around my entire self, dragging me in and out of it, not out of compulsion, but more as a chain of cyclic process. It just feels normal to be this way. Zero explanations coz there’s zero demand for it! As the better half once remarked..zero cause, infinite reasons! (Or the other way round?!)

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Escalation..

Escalation instead of rising above. Seriously! What’s even wrong with me! Why don’t I just use simple words and be in simpler terms with people and things. I guess it’s my passion towards big words, or the show off attitude! Should I even consider the possibility that, may be, its actually that I have a complex stream of thoughts, and the crudeness in it, is just reflected in the choice of words of expression. I believe its ‘I assume’ than ‘believe’ in my brain. ‘Elevated’ instead of ‘high’. ‘Crude’ for complex. ‘Indispensable’ for ‘essential’. ‘Survival’ for living. ‘Beseech’ for …what..I don’t even know a simpler word for that! That’s how  wound up I feel. Never letting go of my ways. Never understood. Never fought for. Never won over. Never acknowledged. But not to forget mentioning, I totally don’t regret being misunderstood or not being understood at all. What hurts is the lethargy between doing something, and not doing that something. I don’t even know how those polar opposites things could have been connected in my brain. Perhaps. that is what my cousin read out of the health magazine and diagnosed me as a typical case of Bipolar Disorder!

Recently, every psychological write up on mental health and stability is kinda held against me, as I exhibit most of the symptoms, or so claim the people of my life! Whatever may that part be, I am assuming myself to be a sensible person. Sensible enough that I could write a book that generations ahead may find useful! But what should it be about is what confuses me! 😛 May be on how to gloat more euphemistically?!?

P.S. I suck! So much in writing. And so much more in other things. I am so confused about my own writing and lately I have totally stopped making sense. Did anybody even get any tinge of the sarcasm I intended at the last line of the crap above? If yes, a comment would be greatly appreciated. Only if you got the sarcasm. Just a self evaluation process for me.

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