Skip to main content

The observer - I

It would seem as if diversification is the key to relative happiness; when you got nothing to lose then baby you’ve got it all? Why is it then, that we are constantly driven by vertical goals, every now and then at least?

There comes a point in your life (every now and then at least) when you’ve expended yourself sufficiently to be reasonably reluctant of playing out the remainder of your cards too, if there are any left.

Solitude helps, but not explicitly. Solitude kills, but comfortably. Maybe you rise after that, maybe you fall deeper. Hopefully, you reach a point when it doesn’t matter, and either outcome leads to the same singularity. That is the dream. But they say dreamers are very impractical. Time will not tell. Dreamers will continue to dream by the nature of their circumloquacious ontology. That’s their flaw… and their merit. It’s the same. 

A sage is not a doctor – the ability to see your own misery guarantees no solution, it might even insulate you from a potential one.

As they say, zero-sum must be preserved. The re-emergence of an old friend necessitates the departure of the present one; actually the latter heralds the former on its way out.

I propounded this once, in youthful naivety, but I say it now, the same words but maybe a different framework: beauty and pain are inseparably and inevitably tied. The capacity to appreciate beauty comes (maybe) from the capacity to feel pain. The adjudicator of good has to graduate through the test of the not so good, the bad, the ugly, and the horrible. What’s more, the adjudicator needs to be constantly subjected to all The Others, and often spend more time researching the horrible, to still be competent enough to tell one apart from the other. It’s a nightmare for us mortals, but to him, it’s the joy of alchemy.

Comments

  1. somehow keep liking ur posts more and more. strong stuff. keep posting! and bdw wat happened to that cognitive blog of urs?

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

An eventful Independence Day!

First of all, I’d like to wish Happy Independence Day to all my readers. Today was a day of a national reconciliation for me (like many other of my compatriots). Yet, the national experience of today has been different than previous ones, towards the worse. Although I am more aware about my country today than I was yesterday, I feel no prouder of my country. The feeling I have today is of disappointment (and not disillusionment, mind you). I still believe in my country and its potential to be the world’s finest, but today, I must criticize it for the state of affairs that pervade it. Incidentally, I watched the movie Peepli Live today, and it left me disappointed and depressed. I already know the current state of India, how it is soiled in corruption, red tape and dirty politics – what I didn’t learn is how can I make a difference… what I, the Common Man of India can do today to ensure a more prosperous tomorrow. The movie had plenty of Masala , its fair share of Profanities (were th...

The Coronation of Wazza

Caution: The f ollowing discussion is wrought for football (soccer?) fans, especially those in favor of a club by the name Manchester United. Viewer discretion recommended. A long ball was launched up to Rooney and he took it down with a great touch, turned, and with the Arsenal defense backing off, hit an unbeatable curling shot into the top corner to send Goodison wild. Everton had won, Arsenal’s unbeaten run was over, and Rooney had arrived. Always searching for the sound bite, commentator Clive Tyldesley exclaimed “ Remember the name: Wayne R ooney ! ” That was October2002 – he was only 16 then. Wayne Rooney signed for the Reds two seasons later after a staggering £27m tra nsfer. In September 2004 , he scored a hat trick on his United debut. He was only 18 then. Since then, he has scored some truly memorable goals for united including the scorcher volley against Newcastle , the chip against Portsmouth , the late, late winner against Milan . Besides, he has gone through thr...

The Mall

…..And there's nothing wrong with me This is how I'm supposed to be In a land of make believe That don't believe in me….. “Malls: Where people make believe, where escape from reality is cool, where individual identities are conveniently camouflaged in social swarms” – this is what I texted a dear friend last evening. I was at a mall with my family. It was a Sunday evening. I wondered whether the place was reminiscent more of a Virar local at peak rush or a toddler fancy dress competition. There seemed to be an odd, unspoken mutual need for all those people to be there – maybe to reassure each other of their existence. By themselves, they felt like lost strangers, but together they represented the majority of purposeful rationalism. We went to the furniture and lifestyle store(y), then to the apparels outlet – a shame-inducing collection of what the definition of fashion (and hence society) is today, inspired of course by our own dons and divas of the film “industry”, ...