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Tag: Unique

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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Visual vestiges of a cherished obsession!

An endless journey through the seamless rails..

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Towards the horizon, vanishing and uniting with the ultimate..

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A delayed arrival @Trivandrum Central. An evening blend of colours above the rails..

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Ahoey! I reserved this for you, my invisible companion! The vacant face..
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Barred and unbarred!

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Aqua power – captured and un-captured!

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MEMU days – The scary double doors.

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MEMU days – Share the window – Single Window System!

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The bridge to traverse – unfinished as ever!

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What I never got bored of – the curves and the bends – drawing spirals in my head!

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This is not all about my train journeys. But this definitely is an indispensable part of my rail-days!

Show off!

“Oh yeah you’re overdoing it. Yes ofcourse that much of it was not necessary. Show off! It was so uncalled for. You really needn’t be that sincere to it. Ah come on, don’t be so nice lest they use next time too.”

A bunch of euphemistic ways of putting it right on your face, that you are showing it off a bit too much and its high time you shut it! Sometimes, people don’t understand when should they be stopping to try and stop the fruitless efforts. And also, at times, people just don’t understand when to stop the pointless comments on others’ sincere efforts. All of us, take our own turns, at both sides of the desk. You go perform, just too much, that judgement itself turns indefinite. Or you always sit back, never performing, never realising the worth of performing, discouraging every source of usefulness!

However at this particular moment of my life, I’d rather choose to believe I belong to the second class now. Iget criticised, often penalised, and overly commented upon, for things that I do out of my willful sense of virtue and morality. “Ninte karyam aalochikkumbo chiri varunnu. Nee enthina ithra involved aavunne?”!! [Its funny thinking about you. Why are you even getting so involved?] That was a senior’s comment on my over – anxiety about certain stuff from college. More and more of it is what I keep getting, from teachers, classmates, friends, loved ones! Why am I being so overly commented upon, if all that I do is over-react and over-do things!

I think here’s my point. The subtlity of mind is what we often lack, when thinking on a broader perspective of things! But the expression of the mind and its inifinite complexity demands to walk over every other hurdle.

P.S. Anyone inspired may stop the accusation episodes of ‘Enthoru showedei!’ [Show off!’]

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!!

Viswaroopam!

I go for movies with expectations. Some reviews. Some comments. Some story line. With some idea and knowing what to expect in there. But this time, I had none. I didn’t even want to go for a movie. But surprisingly, dad showed interest and no one wants to back off! So we went for Viswaroopam, the latest Kamal Haasan’s controversial Tamil endeavour. Even waiting for the ticket at the theatre, I hadn’t any thoughts about movies running in mind. May be that’s all the reason I was so mesmerised by what was in store for me, as in the movie.

The story line is pretty famous, now that the movie’s contributing to a lot of controversies. The Al-Qaeda Jihadis. The American vengence. Tit for tat. Terrorism. Osama and Bush. And all stories that get entailed with these references. The movie was unique, even when the theme is so overly filmed, exploiting patriotic sentiments. The movie stands out in the very detailing of the plot, filming things that most of might have only read in books, or not even books! The judging of the movie, its morale, and the idea it conveyed, are all serious topics to be discussed seriously. Not entering into the details, the movie offers a fantastic movie experience, exclusively by the quality in the making and rendering of it. The Sankar-Ehasan-Loy music score made two and half hours all the more pleasing. Every frame was shot so perfect, and each dialogue timed so effortless. It was totally worth being the first movie of 2013 to me!

Mom said I am abnormal for commenting that the movie was awesome. Little sister was nudging me all the while, until I finally promised to explain the plot once we get the out of the cinema. Dad couldn’t hear half the dialogues. Thanks to the theatre’s stupid sound system. I don’t think much of the viewers understood the movie as a whole. The language,and the style of filming are all contributors to the lack of reach. For someone who doesn’t get a bit of Tamil, English and situtional interpretation of dialogues, the movie would pretty much be lot of violence and stunt and incomprehensible humor. But trust me, there’s much more to the movie and the whole experience of it. Howsoever may it be to the generalia, the opening Kathak piece gotta make you spellbound, gripped to your seat! Unnai kaanathu naaningu naanillaye… Viswaroopathin ‘viswaroopam’ is to be acknowledged with an enlightened sense of acceptance to goodness and marvels in things!

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. 😛

Nostalgia!

The first thing that I think of at the sound of the word ‘Nostalgia’ is the ‘mail a song’ programme telecasted in Kairali channel. The anchor’s sober looks and melancholic tone made the programme nostalgic enough. The genre of songs played also had such discretion. Even the beautiful Malayalam font that read ‘nostalgia’ had a style of long lost elegance and simplicity. The background score, the dimly lit studio. Everything about the show had an element of nostalgia in it, except the unavoidable shriek of advertisements.

The second, third and nth things that I relate to ‘Nostalgia’ are not in the order of their priority. Randomly, it teleports me to my dad’s native and the ancestral home that housed sprawling memories. And with recent reference (and relevance), it reminds me of 48 hours of ‘uninterrupted nostalgia’ that I shared with my little cousin. Everytime he said ‘nostalgia’, it meant a glitch in my brains!

I could keep writing about another ten things atleast, that I’d relate with nostalgia. But for now, the whole idea of nostalgia has shifted focus and now it means a totally different thing to me. You wouldn’t guess it until I say it aloud to be my new mobile ringtone’s name. (as a matter of fact, mine is called something else. But the tone is very similar sounding to the one named ‘nostalgia’). Long back, I had this habit of assigning unique tones for each contact so as to distinguish the caller from the tone itself. But then, it was really discouraging for I never got the rings that I expected to hear more often. Phone most usually went to silent mode too, making the uniqueness of the tones pointless. I used to jump at every vibration and even thought of doing something about getting a unique pattern of vibration for the callers. But then, ultimately, everything killed my hope of being beckoned by the callers that I always looked forward to. It was depressing. Finally, I had a hitch with the ‘nostalgia’. The very loud, most unique and so very nostalgic ring of the old rotary dial telephone. Making you feel like somebody is calling from some decades behind, the ‘tring-tring’ indeed has stolen a lot of hearts. I really fell in love with my ring tone for it seemed so unique and nostalgic and a symbolic victory of getting away from my yearning for specific calls. But then, looks like I am not the only one. There are plenty more with the same idea about nostalgic ring tones!

Ah! That’s perfect. Just as I am typing this, the very same tune is playing in the background. Somebody is being beckoned from their long lost past! My tone is not unique anymore. Yet, very so passionately, I cherish it as a nostalgic piece from my fading memories.

Censored!

There’s this churidar of mine, with red and black stripes. Kinda rustic look and I kinda liked it too. But the tailor ruined the dress and I hardly wear it these days. A single day today, I saw three people in the exact same dress. Saw two yesterday. That’s really really bad. I want to stay unique, everything in me, everyone around me. Glad I’m not wearing it that often these days! Standing out even in what you wear, is something that I have truly cherished in life. Without compromising or taking efforts, things naturally turned out the most unique to me always!

I occasionally walk back home after college. And that I do in a peculiar fashion, jumping across the pavement tiles. Numbering my steps, not crossing the tile joints, placing my leg at the same position in every tile. That’s kinda difficult to describe. I’d rather show you one day than explain it online. Waiting for the bus, I saw this lady with a disfigured face. Probably an aftermath of an accident, it seemed like she burnt half her face. As she crossed me, I had the perfect side view of her other part of the face. Trust me when I say she was elegantly beautiful from that angle. She reminded me of our crippled selves and fake facade that each one of us bear. Symbolism! Lol. I really wanted to let her know how beautiful she was. But yeah, intuitively I swallowed that ‘brilliant’ idea of mine.

Saw a guy today. Have been seeing him quite often and he resembles my long lost uncle a lot. I wish if I could see my uncle just once more and talk to him just once more. I can explain why he walks so brisk all the time. And why he hardly makes eye contact with anybody at all. As if I know this random man and the whole of his life. I wonder how I see the story running through every mind that crosses me. I think what they might have been thinking. Assuming a plot as their life’s story and building upon the vague giveaway of their nature has become my new way of ‘utilising’ time. I meet a hundred people minimum every day. And I have a hundred story lines running through my head every moment of the day. And from those many stories, its my handpicked story that covers my blog post every night.

My point is simple. With so eventful a life, and so much happenings in a single day, I am not running short of things to write. Actually, I have so much to write that I am confused what to choose. I could have written a single post that talked about any of the things that I talked about earlier. I could have just wound it up and moved on to the next. But then, this is what I chose to write. A random paragraph with so much ramblings! This is how things work with me. Obviously.

Not just recently, but ever since I started writing I’ve been accused of one thing. That I dont know what to write in a blog and what not to write. Back then, I was so offended by that statement and I totally abandoned my blog and swore to resurrect never again. But I came back. With more vigour to express and more experiences to vent. Even the last time somebody read my blog and immediately reached me to warn and advise on what to and what not to write. But seriously, I dont bother anymore. You think I shouldn’t have said this is in open? Tell me that on my face in public. Only then am I even gonna consider doing something about it. Back then, it was the censoring of a teenager’s crazy ramblings. But if you think you can still do it with me, you’re gonna regret thinking so. I’m a person. I know what I’m writing, sensibly and sensitively. Having a lot to write and limited time to spend on it, I’m already filtering a lot of things that’s running on my mind. Filtering it again makes it drab. Nothing more remains in the essence of my passion to write.

I’d want someone to genuinely tell me what they think of the things that I write. Are they things worth anybody’s time? Are they worth any thing at all? Tell me if I shouldn’t have written this. Tell me if this offends you. I’d quit again. Stop writing forever. And resurrect again if you let me. For you, a thousand times over!

Changing images..

“Alone in the crowd”. What does it mean to you? A clichéd sentence? That it sure is. It is a very basic emotionally crappy but mercilessly over used statement. But when at times it really grows beyond the hollowness of the words, the whole weight of the world settles down on your self. No sound would come out. No signs of life would be seen. All in life, you’d wonder why isn’t even death giving you company. It’s as though, everyone and everything is afraid of you. Running away from me, I am not sure if they are safe or get hit in their running spree.

In my initial days of ‘socialising’, (ie getting introduced to orkut and chat), the images with tags amused me. As a matter of fact, I still am  a fan of images with words on them. I was so greatly addicted that I used to switch my display pic every now and then. Back then, I had this image that said, “My presence intimidates you, doesn’t it?”. It was not suggestive of anyone. It rather included everyone then. My world then, comprised of my random group of friends who had ‘immense’ respect and fear towards me, a obsequious sister, a protective brother and parents who’d rather stay aloof from my things. None of them seemed like they shivered in my presence, but evidently, it wasnt difficult for me to make it happen either. However, I never chose to intimidate anyone.

Images changed. Things changed too. Then came the gtalk image collections. The ‘autumn leaf’ and the ‘pen in hand’ were my favourites. Albeit, I switched to the freshness of the ‘green leaf’ or the playfulness of the ‘monkey face’. The ‘red rose’ tempted and lingered. I never budged though! 😛 Out of nowhere, ‘my’ snaps proved the best to me! Made a resolution to myself that all my photo statements would be trademarked, all copyrights to me. All because, ‘somebody’ commented I am good with photography, that my hand aint shaking holding the camera!! Anybody remembers?

Ever since then, it has always been my clicks that spoke. The ‘shadow’ era was then. Nothing but the shadows of everything! I didnt miss a single shadow. The flowing hair can be shot in the shadow, without the flowing tears. The proud stride can be seen, without the frail smiles. A silhouette leaves a lot to the viewer to imagine! That was my lesson number one for myself with photography! But the underlying principal, the zeroth lesson, was given to me by my bro. He never managed a click as good as mine(no offense, lol), but still gave me the best lesson in photography. I should have known it for myself, but he had to tell me the focus of the image is the corners and never the centre!

I took photos. From the 2MP phone camera, I moved on to the 5MP digital camera. Then further, got pushed down to a 3.2MP phone cam since that came in more handy. The railway tracks, the hairpin bents, the endless road, the splashing water.. everything was clicked. Somewhere in between, I lost track of my snap and display pic sync. I moved back to my ‘image with words’ style. On with, “Walking away from everything…”, “Do not dare touch my phone.”, “I have my own rules..”. All those were my phone wall papers, at various points of time. Even now, I’m stuck with something that displays a false message that the phone is locked! I miss those awesome snaps of mine! I need a camera. An awesome one! And I have to win a photography competition! Lol. Never in life have I had such a clear goal. 🙂

All these ramblings are here now coz I went through every single snap of mine from the past today. Was searching for an image to set up as Google+ image.  And what did I get!! LOL. I am badly in need of an awesome collection of pics! Life can be awesome or gruesome. It never bothers enough. For all that it is, life is still picturesque! A photograph yet to be perfected. Waiting for a bold camera. My snap is not done yet.

Valluvar dinam

Heard of such a guy? Thiruvalluvar? Today is supposedly ‘his’ day. Dont know more details. But wanted to share all that I knew about the legend. His masterpiece, the ‘Thirukural’. Its life changing potential. The poetic charm of the verses. The thoughts that’d linger a lifetime. The weight of the language setting in. Tempting for more Tamil. More love. More poems. More passion. More meaning. More to life.

Even thought of choosing a verse for a day and brief about it. Everyday. But as ever. You propose. Somebody else disposes. Ah whatever. I’m done proposing. Let things come the way they know for I’m too dumb, rather lazy, to guide them further. As life has it!

Wish nothing’s disposed again. I wanna start with it. My thirukural days. As long as it stays.