Tag: Symbolism

English Vinglish!

~ Soumya ~ 1 Comment

Why do I do this? I so much dislike this practice of mine, where I use movie names as my blog titles! Why do I do this then? To increase the blog hit over search engine redirections? I don’t think I even knew of such a thing, until recently. May be it’s my simple liking for the movie? What about this particular one then? I’ve not seen ‘English Vinglish’! So may be, my affinity to movie titles may simply be as they somehow can be viewed associated to the actual things that happen around.

I am a Tamilian by birth. Brought up as a Malayali, often. Educated in English medium. Obviously, suggesting that I am pretty fluent in the three languages. Of course, there’s Hindi. And Sanskrit. And Kannada. Languages that I was exposed to, at various points of life, but could never gain enough fluency in. Language is just a medium to communicate. Conveying your thoughts to someone else, who might be interested, is the whole point. And the choice on the medium of communication,i.e. language, is often made based on the comfort levels of the involved parties, unless there’s a situational specification to it. But in the current scenario ‘here’, what we see is a totally stupid and twisted English drama! Like English is the most wonderful thing that ever happened to humanity! English is a good language. Awesome I must say, considering the ease of conveying intense emotions in simple words. Most of us would find it too much better and relieving to yell and shout at somebody in English, than in our own mothertongue. Coz it feels less intense and rude.You’d want to propose to someone in English, coz that takes away a good portion of the embarrassment. You’d want to dial up a Home Delivery service or go to a Customer Care Centre and talk in English, coz that’d keep the conversation shorter and crispier. And trust me, things get done easier and sooner, when you accentuate your tone!

But beyond all this, at some point all you wanna hear and cherish is your own language, in which you uttered your first words to the world. And definitely, from some people, you can’t even think of hearing any other tongue! That mishap was today! When someone screamed at the top of their voice, But is it lighting??”. For the record, that was a concern about the tube light. I didn’t want to laugh. It was not as funny as it was pitiful. Why do people put so much effort in mastering a language like it’s the end of the world! English Vinglish bina kya life! Indeed.

In the going!

~ Soumya ~ 4 Comments

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. 😛

Poornathrayeesa!

~ Soumya ~ 3 Comments

I’m no atheist. I dont say I’m not a theist. Does that make me a believer of God or a non-believer? That’s tough question, though it basically is simple. I dont want to prostrate myself in front of the Almighty and show my submissiveness. (Looks more like I’m never so!) But that doesn’t mean I dont appreciate the wonders in life and marvel of this world. I’m grateful for my life. And I am spellbound by the nature’s bounty and the universe’s vastness and on and on. All appreciated and acknowledged. But those aren’t enough reasons I bow to someone everyday and let them know how huge a fan of them am I!

But somehow, there’s this one person, Poornathrayeesan, who totally gets me bowled over that I wouldn’t mind always bending low before him. (Not that I’m a regular visitor, but he knows.) The temple, the shrine, the very premise of the temple and my Poornathrayeesan. Everything feels so warm and soothing that I always imagine coming down till here and catch up with him once in a while. I so much love him. But I dont carry around his photo. Nor do I cry out his name in peril. I dont expect him to solve my problems. Now does all these make me an atheist? Looks like it!

Had gone to the temple. After something like very long. Not willingly, but had to join the family. And as ever I dont regret going to the temple. Nothing was the same, with respect to my lack of attention to the temple premise, though I cross it multiple times every weekend. The temple had two new entrances, by both sides of the main entrance, which, as a matter of fact, looked very awkward. But yeah, they had it for some purpose, may be for the elephants during the festival. The banyan branches were brutally chopped and made the tree look like some dry lifeless structure. Again, for some technical reason of convenience, may be. The inside of the temple remained more or less the same. But the first few minutes were strange as I couldn’t spot a single familiar face. (I usually walk into some of my old schoolmates or teachers.) Soon enough, I gave up that exercise and things were better. Familiar faces popped up alone and in groups. And it is only then that I realised that I really didn’t want to meet anybody at all. Sitting down on the sand, by the ‘pradakshina vazhi’, (the outer path circling the shrine), I felt like I’m at Shangumugham. Instead of waves kissing my feet, it was eyes locking with mine. Too many of them. Familiar faces. New faces. Strange faces. One after the other. It wasn’t soothing. But I got accustomed to the situation, almost started loving it. Playing the game that filled my childhood temple days, I was wondering how I’d forgotten it all these days and how I instantly remembered it as I sat down there. I wasn’t playing it as good as I used to. I couldn’t even consider the idea of running behind my sister, chasing her down, like those days. (She wasn’t there anyway. She was in search of her friends. So was dad.) Nothing was the way it was. The ambience is changed. The comfort has been damaged. The sense of possession is lost. It’s not ‘my’ temple. It’s not ‘my’ shrine. I see things I dont wish to see. Hear things I dont want hear. But still, the lord is mine. Or may be, within every mind, there’s a fence of possessiveness that doesn’t let anyone see what’s inside. May be the lord has split himself into pieces, and be present in every mind. But as long as I dont see that, I’m obsessed on my possessiveness. And claim my divine right!

I dont know of miracles that God does. I dont even know the wonderful sagas praising Poornathrayeesan. But I believe in his unquestionable power in making me write again. I never thought I could write so blissfully again, this soon. It’s indeed his charm that I write endlessly about miracles and theism and faith and fate. I’m a believer. No matter I go overboard expressing it or not. I’m definitely bound to my Lord. Taking a last glimpse of him, through the Pancharimelam, only to see him again and again, a million times.

Defeat!

~ Soumya ~ 4 Comments

Ever since I got down to this city, I’ve been travelling. On and on. On a two wheeler (many actually), by car, by bus, by walk. Long long distances. Hours turned minutes. Confusions turned solutions. Emptiness filled. Silence echoed. Walking around like a crazy woman was so relaxing. Well, it still is. But for some unknown reason, I feel like closing myself up in this room and just stay exactly like this. Like I totally hate going out.

But that aint true. Not true at all. Coz I love going out. Just anywhere out of enclosed spaces. I just feel so defeated today. So lost that I’d rather keep myself to myself. Had this stupid encounter in a bus. Was on my way back home from somewhere and I got into this crowded bus. With too many ladies standing in the front, and relatively too few men. And then I see this guy sitting in the seat reserved for ladies. He’s not a handicap. He’s not old. Pretty much in late twenties. And I wanted him to offer the seat to somebody there, who’s old and was practically saying out she’s tired, if not to me. And when I ask him, he wants the conductor’s recommendation to look into my plea. And now when I requested the conductor, he offered me the pleasure of kicking him out all by myself. I stopped looking at him. I got the next immediate seat I got and tried to push away his victorious grimace. But I was so defeated. So lost deep down. Not to that smart ass. Not that irresponsible conductor. But to myself. I was lost if I should ask for the seat or not. Demanding my rights was never a tough thing. So it was not about asking him to get up. All that it might have taken is a bit of yelling. But it was actually about my want. Did I really want that seat? Everybody wanted to sit but nobody cared to support me. And for a moment, it all felt so futile and lost. And I stopped. Defeated. It’s just that one moment that you need to pass. The judgment. The decision making. Whether or whether not. A life long of such crucial points is nothing less than excruciating. I couldn’t stand just one such moment. So defeated indeed!

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.

Nothing else matters!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

I dont know if I could actually call myself a Metallica fan. I’m not a hardcore fanatic who goes behind everything about Metallica. I hardly know their band or the songs they made wonderful. But then, I still assume I could be considered a Metallica maniac for my inexplicable liking for their masterpiece, “Nothing else matters.” I dont know how long has it been since I developed a liking to English songs. But ever since I liked them, I’ve loved “nothing else matters”. It rings in my soul as though its MY theme music that plays in the background, everytime something substantial happens in my life. It kinda sounds funny, but true yet that I think so much about the song that I can keep essaying about the wonders this particular track does to me. To all you people who had anything at all to do with this song and me, just know I owe you a lot!

Exaggeration is too small a word to describe what I’m doing right now. But I’m liking this. Beyond measure, life attains worth when small things get cherished and valued priceless. Tiny things always fascinate people in general, not specifically me. But the fascination is too short lived that it’d have been too late when you finally accept your fantasies. They’d just never seem like anything more than exaggerations or boasting.

I’m a simple person with complex perspectives and lucid expressions. Transparent imagery and elegant exemplification flow to me peacefully. Symbolisms coexist with me, as in symbiosis. I’m incomplete without every single one of them. Nor is perfection achieved in them without the ‘my’ touch! Comment. Warn. Threaten. Plead. Do whatever in your power to leash my thoughts and seize my existence. Just be known though. Nothing changes anything about me or my ways of life. Plain and simple. Nothing matters at all!

Matrix and the parker

~ Soumya ~ 4 Comments

Gotten close enough to a Matrix Bilt note book? With elegant black cover, and the problem free wiro binding, as they name it, it’s classic and executive. Always had an eye on their 5 subject note book. Considering the price and the number of pages, I reached at the obvious conclusion that’s not worth my ‘lecture’ notes. However, as things always happen, a Matrix three – partition book came to me through a cousin.

Ever since I got it, I was confused what to write in it and hence just kept it aside. Until recently,I assumed nothing worth to be written there. Now though, with my most cherished and chaste Parker, I pen one liners and multiple liners in them. They may be not extra ordinary. But the pen and the book got something of my satisfaction to be engaged with. Upon some ‘elderly’ opinion, those ramblings will also find room in my blog, right here.

More to write. Later.

UPDATE :

What I wanted to write on the book and the pen was simple. I was always intrigued by the ‘pen holder’ they offered with the Matrix. I was wondering what on earth did they actually mean by this amazing offer? It took a long time for me to notice the small hole at the back cover of the book! That was disgusting. They present it as though its some additional effort that they took to make the product more attractive. But what do I see instead! They should have given us something ‘extra’ and what they do is actually take away portion of the back cover which should have been our rightful possession. But you know what? I am stupid. Dumber than dumbu. It was the perfect ‘pen holder’ I ever had. The page size and the spacing of the hole was so perfect that my Parker glided through the hole and peacefully held on to the Matrix. That was one fine thing the book and the pen taught me. Taking away of a portion of the back cover was such a brilliant idea. Sometimes, all we need is that. Take away a bit of those things that needn’t be there in life. It will make room to accommodate all those indispensablities of our existence. Look around and learn. There’s a lot to learn from everything, every moment.

Team India MadE victorious!

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

Team India just won over Aussies by four wickets! And I’m so happy and proud! Obvious question. When did I ever start being a cricket maniac! Let me explain.

Its not about cricket. Its all about my stupid symbolic triumph. My victories always remain rooted in my symbolisms. Was watching the match with my uncle and cousin, the one who always make predictions about how things are impossible. As ever, he declared India lost the match. Twelve runs in six balls was impossible for him! Based on his run rate calculations and whatever other probability that the game of cricket gave, he should have been right! But my point was simple. One ball can give you a maximum of six runs. Six balls naturally can give ya thirty six runs! Yeah, I know I’m talking about the rarest ever and seemingly impossible happening. But yet, its still plausible aint it? And it did happen! Last over’s first ball was a six! Second one was a No-ball and they ran for three runs. And the third ball was another six! Hurray! India just won! Impossible turns possible, in a split second!

I dont know of cricket. I dont know of the match. (Is this the Common Wealth thingy?). I dont know of No-balls. I dont even know the implication of ‘winning by 4 wickets’. But yet, I’m the happiest person that India won today. It feels like my victory. My symbolic triumph of making the impossible, possible! I dont know much cricketers. I dont know of their history and trackrecord. But then, Dhoni is god to me. His last three battings, changes my life! Symbolism rocks. Only with me!

Censored!

~ Soumya ~ 4 Comments

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. Stopwriting forever. And resurrect again if you let me. For you, a thousand times over!

Changing images..

~ Soumya ~ Leave a comment

“Alone in the crowd”.What does it mean to you? A clichd 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.