Journal

View from my window

Someday the stack of unread books sitting by my window will grow big enough to cover it completely and then, only then I will realize the grave situation I’m in. Until then I will keep hoarding books I like (or the ones which score above 4 on ‘Goodreads’, because hey! I’m too part of the herd). I’ve never been this aimless. The sense of urgency has left me since… I really don’t remember when. But on the other side, evening sunlight is grazing slowly away from my room, just like a satin sheet slipping off the bed, and it feels good to have enough time to appreciate it.

amber spotlight
stirs up winds
shaking lime plant
by my window
pouring warmth
in and over
lending songs to birds
from the other side
And as it leaves
silent and stoic
I open my palm
and I open my windows too
hoping to fill in some hope.

Advertisements
Standard
Journal, Pen

Why can’t I finish a book?

I am not an avid reader. I’ve never been one. Last thing I was keen to read was my comic collection when I was 7 or 8. Then my high school came along. Also, comics in India were not a profitable business. They lost their popularity as digital gadgets started replacing them. I struggled to find even a single copy at the news-stand. And one day, the retailer stopped selling comics at all. Continue reading

Standard
Journal

The Default Settings

1So after deciding to break your personality down, the next thing you need to start soon is looking at the blueprint of the ideal one which though very far fetched, seems very approachable. Some simple sets of changes in your default settings and voila! Your future is in your hand. But if it was so easy, we wouldn’t call them ‘the default settings’.

David Foster Wallace said in his commencement speech called ‘This is Water’, :

It’s extremely difficult to stay alert and attentive, instead of getting hypnotized by the constant monologue inside your own head, maybe happening right now!

To stay attentive and in control of your own thoughts. These default thought habits/mechanisms are like involuntary muscle movements, mostly we don’t think about them. But to truly change your personality, one has to begin from right there. Every time one brings about a big change in life, first one has to win a battle of mind.

So this is it for today. Gonna end with lines of DFW,

The only thing that’s capital-T True is that you get to decide how you are gonna try to see it. This, I submit, is the freedom of real education, of learning how to be well-adjusted. You get to consciously decide what has meaning and what doesn’t.

Standard
Healing, Journal

Breaking the Mould : Daily blog of a Procrastinator

break

I guess, this is the time. The critical stage I was waiting for, a portal to adulthood. I always thought that the transition would be smooth. But maybe, not for me. Because I am a procrastinator.

I am in the final year of my physics masters and most probably gonna screw up my chances for a Ph.D. enrollment. I have stopped all my productive habits. I haven’t read a good book for a year or so. I am not running regularly. I can’t even wake up early these days. I have no probable reason for all these setbacks. I am not having any physical or mental issue. I haven’t had any family problems or terrible breakups. I had a normal childhood. I got good grades and I am doing what I always wanted to do.

What happened in the process which turned me into this spiritless piece of crap?

Seriously, I am tired of finding reasons. I have tried to overcome this problem almost a dozen of times. Every time I make some progress and then, after I feel like I have done a good job, I think of taking a break. This is when I get sucked back in my procrastinator mode. My mind goes into this trance of doing stupid worthless things, and I only wake up again when I have already wasted a precious amount of time. This loop seems endless.

The thing is, I know I have plans and I have potential to execute them. I have great parents and friends. The professors at the school are amazing. They are people of very high intellect and have achieved a place of respect in physics community. Some of them, whom I worked with, showed a great amount of faith in me. The fact that I am a big time screw-up, makes me more upset.

So, this is my final and biggest attempt to break out of the cage of my own mind. Some guy said,”The only thing standing in your way is You.”

Only thing I don’t want is to utter “I could’ve…” years from now when there is nothing I can do other than to face the ugly truth.

Standard
Journal

Déjà Vu

image

The old painting in the glass frame reflected her curious face. I tried not to turn around as she came closer to look at the painting, just behind me.

It was an oil painting of Himalayan evening. The snowy blue peaks were gleaming with swaying pale yellow sunset. Thick strokes showed the painter didn’t care for little details but its very essence.

She waited for me to move to the next painting. I could see her reflection, anxious and restless. She didn’t want to skip to the next painting. She likes routine. She works out daily, I guess. Maybe wakes up early, everyday. How long can she wait for me to finish?

The signature were initials of the painter. He moved from Russia to India around 80 years ago. He settled in a small Himalayan village. Why would he do that? To give up the comforts? Why did Thoreau do it? Why can’t I do it?

She gave a big sigh and moved to the next painting. As she stood to my left, gazing at the other painting – a monk with a yak – she kept giving sneak peaks at the painting I occupied. So obsessed with the habit of discipline, she is too far from her comfort zone.

I stepped back and looked at the girl. She was looking at the painting. I looked at her eyes in the reflection and they were looking at me. I passed by her and looked at other paintings in the room. She quickly moved to that painting. She didn’t smile or cried out of happiness, but she was content. Her house of cards was intact.

The painter died a long time back. And here I am, borrowing his eyes or at least, his vision.

The girl is examining the painting with her right hand rubbing her chin and left hand cracking its fingers. It’s drizzling outside. I must go or I will lose my bus. Before I leave should I tell her that she is beautiful, just like the painting she is looking at?

Standard
Journal

Way Out

Why do we yearn perishables?
Shiny glass statues
Soft petals
Gossamer dreams
And naked heart.

And why do we grieve
And cry and feel pain?
Even after knowing
Their finite existence!

Is it about
Falling again and again?
Do we like to be fooled
By ourselves?
Walking in circles
Reaching nowhere?

Can you show me the way out?

Standard