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The Last Straw Posts

The inside story

Was down with a fever and cough for a week. And that was such a wonderful timing that I missed five of my internal exams. Frankly, I was glad I’ve more time to study. But yeah, nothing of that sort happened and I screwed them up as usual. No big deal. The retests were postponed and dragged, long enough that I was itched to face them and get over them. But then, it’s the teachers’ mercy playing. And that’s such a rare commodity! Well, whatever. Glad that I’m finally done with it today. Almost. Yeah. Just almost. One more to go.

Well. This aint about my retests or academic crap. I was actually talking about the inside story. The plot and the dialogues inside a staff room. That was funny. Rather surprising. Teachers are
unpredictable beings outside the classroom, or more precisely, inside the staffroom. They talk. Gossip. Prick. Laugh. Confess. Seek help. Seeking help is the most common actually. 🙂

Okay. Everybody does that. So can teachers. They are also common people like you and I. But that’s not the point at all. They do all the very common things in a peculiar way. ‘Appo eli kadichittalle elippani pakarunnathathu??’ I laughed at that question. Laughed really hard. Not thinking about the scientific aspect of it. But seeing my ‘Digital System Design’ teacher stare so stupid and blank, I just couldn’t stop! (The subject name says how bright she should be!) And adding to my surprise, all the teachers in the staffroom fell silent as I broke into laughter. They looked at eachother and I could sense me screwing up. But to my shock, they started laughing with me. They find me mocking at a teacher so hilarious! Seriously! Lol. And another teacher. She says how she’d scare them, coming back as ghost if they dont get her a wreath of rose if she dies of elippani!

I loved the irony. The teacher next to me was shit scared and tensed. I was rotflmao (in my mind) when I learnt the reason for her worry. She was worried of screwing up coz the Inspector from the university had caught her using mobile phone during class hours! I still cant stop laughing. Rotfl.

The never ending complaints about how under paid they are. How the evaluation camp exhausts them. What are the procedures for applying for a Phd. When on earth will they finally get a change in
designation!

It was fun. And revealing. (cant be relieving when the teacher stares at your answer sheet!) What they actually thought about students is what actually we think about ourselves. That was mews to me! I’d love to write more of retests! If only they wouldn’t postpone it. 🙂

The life of a problem

How long can a problem live? Rather, what’s the average life span of the thing that squeezes your brain and crushes your peace of mind and normal course of life? Somebody told me that answer is different for both the genders. For a man, a problem lives till he finds a solution or something close to a solution. But for women, problems are just a night long. After one good sleep, it seems that a woman forgets the previous day’s problems and worries. She’d have had her new set of problems and concerns for the next morning. Just another set of short living woes!

But my thoughts dont seem to concur with it. May be coz my womanhood felt insulted. Or may be just coz I kinda know better! A problem lives in your puny little head until you are done with it. Being done with doesn’t necessarily mean finding a solution to it. It just means being done. Getting over it. Push yourself hard. Till you reach your threshold. Of letting go. Getting over. Freeing yourself, just to fall into newer pathos. Finding closure in your problems. That’s how it works. Focussing onto the issue at hand, encompassing life around it. Some find closure that way. For some others, its slightly different. They leave one issue half way and go in search of another. Dont ask why. Its just their way of finding closure with themselves! 🙂

Problems dont live as long as it lives for you, as for me, as for someone else. Different problems. Different scopes. Different thresholds. But one thing is same. They all take you off your course and rupture your brain. As you, as me, as someone else.

Change!

Change is inevitable. Everything around us change. Everything around me change. Change proclaims the future. Change shows us the way. We do different things everyday. We get up, pee, poop, eat, travel, work, walk, sleep, and many other things which we might not want to say out in public. Like fucking your wife if you are a married guy or jacking off if you aint. Sorry, didnt mention about girls. Like getting fucked or masturbating [the good word]. Hmm, so you people might be thinking this post is about sex, since I am very keen into the taboo words. Lol. It aint.

I started talking about change. Even the title says change with a bold exclamation mark. !. We are all afraid of change. When we changed from Typewriters to Computers, we feared change. Change terrifies us. Now they say Einstein was a dumbo. All what we studied, E=MC^2. All has changed [Though not officially, but still to say]. Everything is constantly going through changes, as if, everything exists in a reality of its own. Reality is tough. What we want is only reality. Though we claim otherwise. What we want is rationality. Though we claim otherwise. But then you may ask. How many of us go for a realistic movie? I dont. I want my action hero to fight a hundred all by himself. I want my porn star to fuck a woman for an hour. I want unrealistic things in a movie. Hoping that I’ll have a surrealism turned realism in my life. And it aint a shit rational. But I am. Rational enough to understand movies’ rationalism lies only in feeding the producer’s kids. See, we are opposing change. Drastic and sarcastic change. Things ought to be more transparent. More legible. More put to face. But its difficult. We hint. We suggest. And we do all the shit talk. You see Mr. Perera…. Cut the crap. What the heck am I talking here? Yeah, forgot. Change. So, since we are very much into opposing change, what we must be doing is simple. Change the change. Is it very simple? Nay. It aint. Because then thats a change too. We have changed from shit to crap. We are dumbasses who dont know a thing.

Wisdom is something that pops up in some wise one’s head. And we obey. Without questions. We dont have the right to question. Just obey. Plain obligation to walk the way shown to us. I have shown many such ways to many such people. And now I know. I understand. How much difficult it is. To walk through someone else’s way. To strode on someone else’s path. To wear someone else’s shoe/ chappal/methiyadi. Lol. That’s where the change should begin. Break the chains. Move out of obligations. Coz there’s no such thing as ‘obliged to change’. Change the change and trash the wisdom. Coz once you change, everything around you also change. What sounds wise before the change might sound as crap. And your life is not to be somebody’s shit hole. So call it now. Time of change.

Change is inevitable. I am changing. From being the wise kid with the pot of wisdom on my head. Constantly. Please wait till I have changed enough to suit you. Lol.

The pursuit of happiness

Nay. Not a review of the movie. Partially coz I’m not good at judging things. But mostly coz I haven’t seen that movie yet! Now is that bad? Well, never mind.

Not bad that I haven’t seen the movie. But kinda bad I’m not here with a movie review. That’s what I should be better doing. Book reviews, objective writing, versatile poems, short stories, novelas. That’s where my pen (or the stylus or the finger) should be gliding over. Gently moving through the language, its marvels, and charm. But look at me! Lol. What am I doing here? Scribbling incomprehensible never ending boring essays. Exactly. The kinda essays you’d miserably want to skip in those old history texts. Well, doesn’t that kinda mean I should end this with a period? Lol. Not actually. You have a choice here. You can choose to read. Or choose otherwise. Nobody is stuffing it into your brains so that you pass a dreadful board exam! Its as simple as that. This my pursuit of happiness. So I write. No matter what the world says about how ruthlessly am I raping the beauty and lucidity of the language.

Label me Ms. Complicated. Talk behind my back. Mock at me. Does that even matter? I’ll keep writing. More complex. More subtle. More crap. Does that matter either? Lol.

The ‘without’ journey

Journeys. Train journeys. They have been a part of my life.  Traversing lands, of my dreams, of my desire, of my passion.  Shuttling between universes! When in one, the other seems so dreamlike and unrealistic! Well, that sounds like something from the past. Something that I wrote in the past. But how does it matter! The past continues. So do the verses from the past. They echo till eternity. For journeys are eternal.  Immortal. Real. The most realistic, or rather the only realistic experiences of my life are always related to a journey. May be that’s a slight exaggeration from my part. But then, that precisely says my yearning for journeys,  sans exaggeration. Its such a pleasure to travel. Immense and profound. Today was one such day. A day of journey. Smooth and soothing.  Even an untimely alarm is forgiven. The journey was definitely worth it. Less crowded, rather empty compartment. Extravaganza of stretching the limbs. Window seat. Wind caressing my hair. (thanks to mom, for tying up my hair :D) Slow hum of the engine, with occasional startling whistles. Early rising sun. Sweat beads on my forehead. And finally, the dreaded crossing and waiting for signal. One thing I’d love to keep away from is the Ladies’ only travel. The gossips and never ending woes about husbands and in-laws, and all other thinkable and unthinkable versions of every single thing out there! The ladies’ talk was so annoying that I wished if I could hang on to the lingering sleep. But then, had it not been for them, I wouldn’t have written this at all. With all the annoyances and silly talks, they represented a clan, a class apart for a person like me. Their thoughts, their worries, their concerns, their worlds. It seemed so ideally perfect. So straight. So clean. I don’t wish if I were one of them. May be, even without my knowledge, I am already one among them.

The ‘vanity’ bag clad women joined me mid way. They kept getting off and on the train. Different faces. But same ‘vanity’ bags.  Nobody stayed for the whole of the journey. I am glad I traversed the entire path. Without struggle. Just an unsettling ease of having it crossed. Being done with the journey, I am worried about the next.  The journey was short and smooth. I went through it, pleasantly. Will the next be as smooth as this? Will I have to go through the shame and pain of getting down midway? Will I be able to pay for the whole distance? Or should I be traveling ‘without’ ticket? I am worried. Confused.

Stairs to stares

Life’s like stairs okay? Be okay with it, even if you ain’t. Coz its just my example. So now, life is like stairs. Not plain ordinary stairs. They are distinctively styled structures with not so predictable steps that climb up and down. There’s no distinguished tread or rise that you can hardly identify them as steps. Okay. So now life’s not like stairs. Life is like a ramp. A smooth inclined plane inclined at, say 45 degree? Nay, 30 would be better.  So life is this smooth plain inclination, elevated from ground to God knows where. But then, is life that smooth? Life has ups and downs. That’s what wise people say. So, life is not a ramp. What else can life be? Well, I am not expected to be confused already. I know the answer myself. Thinking hard..yeah I just got that. Life is like an elevator. It links you to infinite faces and expressions, strange and bizarre. It forces you to be in an enclosed space connecting to people whom you just cant even relate to. Not that claustrophobics have no life at all. They are just having a tough time with life. Well, most of us already do. Lift if life. Rather, life is lift. How perfect do they exemplify eachother! A lift with a lift operator is a boon. Tell him where, he gets you there. You don’t have to meddle with the buttons and screw up your elevation, rather life. But when lifts come without an operator, its not so wonderful. May be self operated lifts are something like living a ‘grown up’ life? Lol. You’ll have to take decisions and press the buttons yourself. People get in with you, leave you mid way making room for newer people to occupy the enclosed space. With not even the slightest sense of motion, you glide in a lift and conquer lands. Okay, floors. Lol. But then that too ain’t like life right? You glide through life? Nay, no one does. Everybody struggles to traverse across it. Okay, so what’s life then? Time to stare at the question? Nay, not yet. i still have an answer. Life is like an escalator. With distinct rise and tread, with rolling ups and downs, with recursive trails, with visible movement around you, life is perfectly like an escalator. You can choose to move with the course and reach destinies. Or you can choose. You’ll have to let people in hurry to overtake you. But you can still make your move anytime, surpassing everything around you. To climb backward in an escalator that takes you downward, all it takes is the guts to question the guard’s stare. Live past the stairs and the stares. Life is escalating!