Category: Rhetoric

Enchanted!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

I dont mind if you didn’t trust anyother post of mine. But this you must trust. I beg you trust this. Without the sparkle of my imaginations, without the innate exaggerations. Trust me when I say I had the most enchanted (in)sight of life just now. Two hours before typing this, I was enchanted!

Train and rain together isn’t rare but still beautiful. I just discovered the scary part of it today. Rain wasn’t calm and gentle and soothing. It was penetrating into me like needles. The wind was violent. In the lightening background, I could see criss cross lines of rain. Each drop visibly travelling at a different speed than the others. Hitting the moving train and scattering into a tremendous splash of freedom. Amazing was their dispersal, redefining all the discipline and pattern, beautified by a poet’s imagination. But it was just today that I saw the reality. Without order. Chaotic. Unpoetic. That’s what rain is all about.

The most scary thing about rain, and or or, train is the lightening. The silhouette of the dark river beneath the shaky bridge. The eerily and sparsely glowing structures in the patternless lightening. The abyss that shimmers below your feet as you lean into the gushing air. Scared to death. But I want the sight back again. Like the godly raindrops in my hand and wind that stroked my hair.

Relieved!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

Feels like something heavy has been lifted off my shoulders. Or may be off my heart. I find the lightness at my head though. Light headed! A sudden revelation that could relieve my entire body and mind. Manoeuvring through the life entanglements,
I’ve finally found space for myself. Time for myself. And a life for myself.

I’m in a hurry. I dont have time to rest and relax. I’ve just found a way not to rust and perish. I am yet to walk it’s length. One fine moment, I feel like Vivekananda. “Awake! Arise! Stop not till the goal is reached!” And in some other undefined moment, I feel like Murphy. “Spend sufficient time in confirming the need and the need will disappear.” And then I’m dropped into limbo. Abandoned and lost. In the company of cast aside existence. Into the oblivion. Without decisions. Without reasons. Held into an indefinite confinement.

Where do I go? What do I do? Why would I do? How do I do? When do I do? Back again, What! Dont answer me. I’m not expecting answers. I’d even strangle you to death if you hint on answering any of my questions. I’m in constrained privacy. And over that, I find it cumbersome to carry a pen and a paper wherever I go. That’s the reason why things that should have been cosy in a hardbind diary have ended up here on wordpress hosting. But that doesn’t let anybody to walk in and judge. This is public. Come. Read. Enjoy. Criticise. Appreciate. Judge. That’s it. That’s where I draw the line. Dont step across.

P. S. To all my readers of sound discretion, I’m sorry if I appear like I’m building fortresses across my ramblings. I really am upto it. Intelligence reports say that an internal insecurity attack is around the corner! Confessing my insecurity.

Stop me if you can!

~ Soumya ~ 2 Comments

Constant tendency to puke is a disease or physical uneasiness. Same with constant urge to use the toilet. Even unsatiable hunger and sleep are seen as disorders. How is uncontrollable desire to blog considered then? Must be something like crazy! I am likely to be suffering from that crazy streak. I just cant stop blogging despite running short of words! Nothing can quite quench my thirst. My exams or a sprained palm do not stop me from my mission. Perhaps, I should just sit back and knit or something. Or may be just read and dream. I should just somehow stop this writing business and feel light headed. Could somebody buy me a crochet or an engrossing fiction and save the world from this misery!

Koothara!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

So what’s koothara? For a very long time, koothara was a malayalam slang which could simply imply anything from naughty to nasty. I could never bring myself to bother much around the implications, coz there were too many more such incomprehensible words in my expanding colloquial vocab! But suddenly, koothara makes sense to me. Very much enlightened kinda sense. May be it was always meant so only. But just occurred to me that, may be, it is something like “koodiya thara” – Very cheap.

Did you just think that somebody called me “koothara” or very cheap? Or did you even think that I am so cheap to be even writing about this? Seriously. I dont care what you think. But ultimately, its thoughts that matter. So I would like to clarify thoughts here. I may or may not be addressed so..(Yeah, I have no intention of disclosing such info!). The point is…well do you see any point here? Guess not. I can hardly make sense, let alone any point! Why are you still reading? There ain’t any point here. Nothing at all. Its just one of my usual blabbering. Would that have been a better title than “koothara’? I don’t think so. This is absolutely about the ‘koothara’ that I am, or anybody else is. You think otherwise? Like hell it matters!

Adieu! To all koothara-ism that was entertained till moment. I am so fucked by this and that and the umpteen implications.

The growth!

~ Soumya ~ 2 Comments

I’ve grown. I dont know how big. But I do have grown. May be a bit. Or a bit more. Or a bit less. It doesn’t count as long as I actually have grown. Growth is gradual. Biological, mental, psychological. Whatever may growth be relative of, growth is slow but irreversible.

How to define growth here? Sleeping in between parents and then moving on to sleeping alone is growth to me. Moving on from us to me. From home to ‘my’ room. From tv to computers. From mail to chat. From friends to ‘a’ friend. Dosas to pizza. ‘Boost’ to coffee. Salwar to jeans. From reading to writing. Crying to yelling. Truth to lies. Trust to betrayal. Living to existing. Memories to reality. Orkut to Facebook.It’s all growth to me. Moving on is growth.

Did I get confused between change and growth? This was all about change. So much about growth too. May be it suggests growth and change coincide. May be. May be not. Growing to change and changing to grow. From what you are to what you should be. From what you want to what you deserve. That defines it. I’ve grown. And changed. From a calm docile creature to a woman who can reap comments like, “Ee penkutti entha ee cheyyunne!”. (What the heck is this girl doing!)
Growth from sleep to sleeplessness.

Writing on..

~ Soumya ~ 7 Comments

Why am I not sticking to my new year revolution? I should be posting something everyday. But I am not. Not alternative days. Not even once a week. This is absurd. I should be writing often. I have readers. And I have things to write. Why not then! Recently, I’ve been pushing my friends into blogging as well. And what they keep telling me is something like, writing always demands a drive. Something like a strong and extreme emotion or mental state that stirs the uneventful existence. They tell me nothing of that sort happens in their lives and hence they cant write. In a nutshell, they tell me they aren’t as sorrowful and as pathetic as I’m right now.

Is my depression mode the drive to my writing spree? I dont assume so. I always wrote. And I always will write. The past was successful and the future is promising. It’s the present that I’m uncertain of. I dont know if I actually want to write this. I dont even know if I’m actually writing this or just imagining that I’m typing this. Was I not just discussing about file pointers and object oriented programming a while before? But now am I writing? Or typing? I’m confused. It cant be me writing. I am not supposed to be writing. Writing needs a drive and at the moment, I’ve none. I’m not crying my heart out. Not laughing my heart out either. I’m not particularly at the height of my emotions. Practically feeling nothing other than the stink and damp in the room.

Looks like I can still write. Feeling ecstatic about the idea of not feeling anything, I can still narrate a million stories and sing a million verses. I’d never grow enough to grow tired of them. I may go blank. But never emptied. I may be out of my mind. But never out of words. I’m on with writing. Writing on..

Seasoned!

~ Soumya ~ 2 Comments

I may not be a seasoned writer. Ah! That’s never the point here. That was so randomly stated just to go along with the title.Seasons are just so praised and so visualised as if they were the nature’s most true essence. Truly though, they indeed are something so. Poetry and literature, as I’ve always seen dearly embraced seasons and the change they symbolise. From summer to monsoon. To spring. And to winter. (I bet I got the order wrong!) The transition has been ever so slow and steady. The blunt curves of temperature and drooping scale of humidity. Seasons always mesmerise, with the awesome relativity we tend to establish with human lives. So much so, I’ve fallen in love with the word ‘rithu’ (In Malayalam, meaning season). Seasons are long. And take large radius curves to never let us feel the abrupt change. Truly a process of gradual transition. And hence it feels awkward human lives are compared to seasons.

People dont change so gradual. The sharp edges of moving on with things pierce everything around us. People are like weather. Short lived, miniature of seasons. The transience is so much similar to people and their contrasting thoughts, that change over an year, a month, even over a single night. Ah! That’s why you have fair weather friends and not fair seasoned ones!

These are a lot more about seasoned. I am really loving those yummy yummy seasoning over my double cheese pizza. I’m planning on making it something like my staple food or so! Rotflol. But idiotically, the primary seasoning that I was referring to, here, was the one that I caught recently in Hindi soap operas. However though, I dont follow the language and yet the ‘season’ was so obvious! Well the season was just about how romance blooms between the protagonists and how that ends up in the usual Indian style dimming of lights and kissing dolls!

Nostalgia!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

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.

Threats!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

People are dumb. I’m dumb enough to accept it as an eternal truth. With my acceptance, let people remain so, with their ever long competition to win the dumbest of all dumbasses crown! Kids with explosives. That’s what people are, with their venomous tongues and out of control mind, all owing to their innate dumbness andsenselessness. Threatening eachother has become a new way of getting things done. Topped by how dumb you are, insanity level shoots up all around!

Right from kindergarten kids, to those with wisdom teeth and to the toothless generation, everybody believes in the abundant power of threats.Surprisingly yet. It works! Works with all. Worked out by all. That’s the sad thing about threats. They are too mean to be used by people whom you look high upon. When unexpected people come up with unorthodox demands and impossible threats to meet them, it is pathetic. As pathetic as to be shot by a toddler with a toy gun! People know eachother’s weakness. Too much knowing makes you weak and vulnerable. Even more, the fragility makes you play cheap tricks and degrade the righteousness of one’s existence.

As always and as everything, there do exist exceptions. Plenty that I’ve seen and a handful that I’ve had first hand experience from. Those with high held virtues and theories as a measure of abundant caution against all threats and trials. What could it be, that shields them from all the exposed tricks of a human mind? Insensitivity or satiety are too far fetched answers. It could just be a sensible mind’s impeccable rationality. Or a subtle ignorance rooted in crude knowledge.

Threats, if ever worked, are always at a cost so indispensable called love and compassion. Triumph fails to replenish. For the cost you pay is never expendable!

Have faith!

~ Soumya ~ 4 Comments

Lately, I have been thinking a lot. And hence, writing a lot less than ever. As always, thinking is tiring. Exhausting and depressing. But yet, thinking never stops. For thoughts are such loyal friends who never leave your side. In sorrow. In bliss. In exhilaration. In solitude. In crowd. They always remain. Staying close, yet distant. Such are thoughts. Those tiny little things of life that give you the abundant clarity that you search for. With the magic of turning loneliness into solitude, anger into spirit, happiness into peace, tears into acceptance. I have been through a lot. A lot of intense thoughts. Intensified occasionally, instinctively simplified as well. And finally, I reach to the same ever relaxing or rather relieving point. Trust. Or faith, as I’ d rather advocate.

Trust sounds too specific. Relativity in trust is too humungous to be hidden by mere attempts of word magic. Trust, is, was and always will be specific, oriented and particular. So lets keep it aside. Coz I am no more particular about things. So would I choose to believe atleast. Broadening my thought spectrum, I call it faith now. A very general idea. Vague, yet so much more powerful and inviting. Unlike trust, faith is never lost. (Never is trust a lost commodity. Its just a general misconception about ‘broken trust’. But I aint gonna talk about trust anyway.) Faith is irrational. Quite obviously and very ironically, I never had faith in faith. Faith is so misleading and confusing. You’d never know when to pause or when to stop. Pausing faith sounds ridiculous. But its very much a neccessity. At times, faith should be held. Withdrawn and reserved for a better decision. With faith, its very difficult to be sensible.

Ah, I deviated a lot from what I should have been writing. I had totally different things in mind. Strangely odd things came out though. But then, I guess it is okay. To be out of your mind once in a while. And blabber a little. And smirk a bit. And poke yourself. And laugh to yourself. You dont call it insanity, do you? You shouldn’t be doing it. Coz you know it for a fact that I am not insane. But yet I do a little of all of them!

Finally, I found an answer. To the million dollar question that always freaked me out. Whether to have faith in something or somebody or just rather live a life as plain and as straight as it can get. Well, I guess I should have faith. Name him God. The Big Bang. The Supreme. The Highest power. The Ultimate. Paramatma. Parashakthi. Whatever it is, (ignoring the gender), I am yearning to find more reasons to have faith. Its a relief atleast. Somethings are beyond your hands or all the other wicked hands around you. Somethings fall into place with a slight magic. A little miracle. Marvelled by life. I am a believer.