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Tag: Psychic

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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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.

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 Β 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! πŸ˜› 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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My scratchpad!

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When you’re bored outta your wits, and have absolutely nothing running in your mind…Yay! Scratchpad!

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Anger management!

I am freaking out. 24*7. So if you talked to me for more than 5 quality minutes, and if I still haven’t yelled at you or abused you, guess you turned out lucky. Or I was off then. I am freaking away. For every single thing. At every single person. It is not the usual surge of anger or sorrow or frustration. It is this new feeling that I-just-cant-take-another-bit-of-crap-from-you! So shut up. And go far away. Have any clue about the gravity of my thing that I am possibly (not) exaggerating? Have this person who I am so annoyed and irritated by. But out of respect for age, relation, and finally mocking a bit morality and courtesy, I have tried my maximum to not express my anger. What happens yesterday, this person shows up in my dream and I abuse and yell and scream and vent all my annoyance to the person, in my dream. And I woke up relatively peacefully that I finally did what I should have, atleast in a dream. This misleads me further now. Am I actually not to suppress my emotions but just go crazy and freak out about every simple (and I know, silly) thing and cause havoc in my surrounding! The only suggestive remedy I got till now..count 1 – 10. And so I go, 1…..2…..3…4..5678910 F*** ******! What do you even think of yourself you @#****!$?$?!

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Killing the unborn!

I don’t know if she even existed. Like, I don’t even know if she were born. But I’d just love to see her dead. Rather, with my own hands, strangle her to death. She who personifies all that I am not. She who desires all that I dont. She who destroys all that I would never. She who creates all that I couldn’t ever. She who wants to stop me from writing this. She who puts a leash on me being me. She who claims to be a twin of my soul. She who disrupts my life. She who destabilizes my hold on life. She who kicks in when no one’s around, and makes me unreasonable. She who wouldn’t just let go of me until I sneeze her away. She who hunts me down, day in and day out. She who scares me. She who I despise to be with. She who I hates to have known. She who wrecks my inner peace.

“Hey, its high time we broke up. I am so tired of you hanging on to my neck. You want a parasite? Go find someone else. I am so done with you. Just so you know, you’ve done enough. To wreck me and my life.” “I am sorry but I didn’t know. Like , I always thought you liked things this way. Weren’t we perfect this way? Life was getting much..” “Duh! Look at who’s talking about life. What do you know about life? When have you gotten outta your little fantasy world, to even acknowledge there’s a real world and life going on out here!” I tell you I am breaking up with you. But you know what’s it I am gonna really do? I am gonna kill you. Finish you off and wipe you off the surface this world. I wanna wash my sins away in your blood. May be you’re a total piece of crap. But your intangible blood has such marvelous charm. You won’t see another sun rise. Go to a calm and peaceful sleep tonight, and you’ll never wake up from that eternal peace.

P.S. Lately, I have been contemplating metamorphosis. And this is how I see it in me. Went through some past autographs from school. And the one constant line, in every page, even the ones written by people who don’t know eachother, matched so perfect and identical. They all said just one thing. ‘Never change from what you’re. Your attitude stands unique.’ However fancy may that sound, do people really do this copy-cat thing in autographs as they do in tests? Or is it that they all planned on making a fool outta me, by writing out the same thing to freak me out? Or is it actually that, they all thought the exact same about me? Oh mother of god! Where the fuck is that attitude of mine then! (The one that I too loved! Where am I!)

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Being the wise one!

This is not me boasting about my wisdom. This is plainly about the ‘wise’ aura that I am proud of! I asked someone who knows about the 30 day challenge, for a topic for today’s blog. And this, the title, is what she suggested. Like so many others in this world, I often feel very wise about decision making and problem solving in other people’s lives. And unlike so many others, I find equally sensible and wise about ‘the’ moments about one’s own life too. I am confident about what I do, what I think , how I speak, why I turn away. I know it all, in my life too, as in any another person’s life! I may not be a visibly successful person, considering how promising my wisdom appears to be.

But yet, this is a feeling. That boosts confidence in me. To make another step in my life, as in others’ lives, when situations demand! I am growing beyond my tiny shell of ignorant arrogance and foolish temperaments. I can help people out, as I listen to them. I may have access to a variety of life experiences and may be growing more mature and containing enough, to most adversities that a normal person may have to sit thru. I can talk, coz I listen patient enough to assimilate and walk thru the by-pass! I suddenly feel old. Looking around for newer and sectioned experiences!!

In the going!

So now finally, when 2012 is in the going, what’s more important to me? Welcoming the New Year and stepping into 2013 with grace and certitude are all part of my schedule. But, as I said, what’s the most important thing? Its actually winding up 2012 in as good a note as possible by me, for myself. 2012 was a nightmare. Don’t take me for a person who whines this at every New Year Eve. The past year was that bad. 2012! This is what I want to do. Guess I just did it and I am so much more at peace with myself now. The past year must be wrapped in a box, tight and secure. I don’t want it to ever repeat and seep into the future, that begins in less than an hour.

I have a lot to say about 2012. I can list out the points, where I failed, how I lost, what I lacked. But I am sure that won’t help improve my New Year. They were tough days. And tough lessons. And tougher punishments, everytime I failed to assimilate them. I’d rather not take such a rigid course! There’s nothing I carry over from the past, into my future. There are no big anticipations. No ceremonious beginning of the year. No hopes attached anywhere. Its just another night. To wake into another morning. Nothing changes with the sun rise. Change is a matter of more substance than dawn and the light. I am not pessimistic here. I am not expecting the worst out of tomorrow, or the days that follow, making 2013. I am being the realist once again. The one that I was, before the onset of the mishap called 2012. I can deal with life, without fancy dates associating to it.

This year. This day. This moment is what I feared I’d never survive. I am thru with ’em all! What more to stop me! I survived. I stood thru today. And that inspires me to live thru tomorrow. Today is the day I feared yesterday! And today turns out to be just another, and over before I even knew it. With a handful of decisions (resolutions sound silly beyond tolerance) to revamp LIFE, I stil claim, ‘No hopes attached’! Hoping to stay detached from hopes. πŸ˜›

Drunk!

Drunk and drive is dangerous. Nobody ever mentioned anything about drunk and write. Perhaps, it’s not as dangerous as the other. Or may be, people never get drunk to write but to stop worrying about such crap in life. So may be, nobody actually mix drinking and writing. W not equal to D. T not equal to V. Implies, writing is never equal to driving. Does these imply that I’m drunk? May be I’m drunk. May be I’m not. Does my intoxication matter anymore? I’ve already lectured on it anyway.

You feel light headed. You dont find answers when you drink. But you forget the questions. (quoting you know who! I know too. Dont think I’m trying to hide my ignorance. I know Vijay Malya said that. You didnt know, did you? I’d still use “you know who” coz that sounds cool to me!) Your tongue gives you away first. You might end up puking. (vaal vekkukka) You might even lose control over your emotions and break down and confide in someone. This is what I usually hear as an aftermath of drinking. Drinking alcohol, to make it specific. Drinking milk or water doesn’t do it. My first hand experience!

I dont feel intoxicated. I dont feel high. But at 0230 IST, I’m supposed to be all that. I’m just normal. But I’m feeling ecstatic. Doesn’t that mean something? Yeah, it means I’m normal. My questions aren’t vanishing. I dont forget anything. I dont feel any difference in the weight of my head. I certainly dont think I’m on an emotional break. I feel pleased. Relaxed. Like, there’s no more to worry about. No more to cry upon. No more to yearn for. I feel like… Ah I feel sleep now. Kissing on my eyes. Coaxing me, to make out with me. I should just sleep. Calm and quite. Yet abysmal and chaotic. The perfect sleep!

Intoxication!

The just before sleep time. That’s an awesomely risky timing for communication with people. The beginning of disorientation. The twist in thoughts and world view. The guts to sing aloud. The will to ring up someone and proclaim the love. The desperation to slap someone with the ugly truth and punch them right on their face. The inch to confess all your live’s mistakes. The urge to talk someone into crazy stuff, and ending up in ridiculous states all by oneself. Think out the most impractical way to solve the most pressing issue in head. And later discover that the whole relief of solution before sleep was just so fake. The imagination to foresee a possible dream and wake up from the daze to shun the thought away. Everything just comes your way naturally. Everything just seems so practical to me. The height of intoxication, if you ask me. You feel drunk and high, and light enough to go to any heights of life, and yet land so smooth.

I’ve been through it. Multiple times. With multiple people. With multiple incidents. And everything turned so disasterous but I just never learn. I’ve managed more fiascos than what anyone can imagine, with my intoxicated communications. I blurt out stuff. I sing aloud. I abuse. I cry. I laugh. I just bring out the broken loose me, from the inside and create mess. The mess just turned out so risky as I have become so thoughtless and indiscreet with my words and thoughts. I ended up talking totally impossible stuff to a friend recently. I abused another with all my heart. I talked someone out of misery. And the last thing I did was something like, just rewind some important life events with my cousin. And guess what I got! (Or rather caught!) I caught her attempting to record my intoxicated ramblings! She was ‘just’ attempting, thank god! πŸ˜€ (below is an image of her stupid phone which got stuck as she tried to record my words. Even the phone couldn’t handle it. Lol.)

But then. I’m not yet planning to stop this. The night communication might be risky. But it feels genuine. The next morning, what I feel is not my exposed fragility. I feel good. Just plainly good that I was true and real. A genuine lightness settles down with it’s weight on my head. Most my blog posts are the just-before-sleep type. Now you know! πŸ™‚