Playlist and More

Feeling sad and lonely and generally very low and I'm lying awake thinking of nonsensical things and just wondering where life has brought me? What I am doing with it? What am I going to do with it? I guess that's what they call "growing up"!
Reminiscing, thinking, pondering, analyzing and generally *feeling* was the theme for the day...
The songs that constitute my current playlist:

1. Keith Urban - Stupid Boy
2. The Fray - Over My Head
3. Imogen Heap - Hide and Seek
4. John Legend - Save Room
5. Chris Daughtry - Home
6. Rascal Flatts - Help Me Remember
7. Blue October - Calling You
8. Goo Goo Dolls - Feel the Silence

You lie awake at night
With blue eyes that never cry
And all you remember now
Is what you feel

The truth remains
In midnight conversations
I asked for this moment
But you turned away

Sad like a lonely child
Broken the day you're born
I held the light to you
But I was so vain

And you remain
A promise unfulfilled
I ask you for more
But you push me away

And if we feel the silence
Holding this all inside us
Everything means more now than
Words could explain

And if we feel the silence
Leaving this all behind us
Looking for something more to say
I don't know where I'm going
Only know where I been
And you move through my soul like a hurricane wind
Been so lost for so long
I don't know how to get back again
And we're drowning in the water
That flows under this bridge
When you're fighting the current
You forget how to live
And I wanted to reach but I don't know where to begin

And you remain
A promise unfulfilled until today
And if we feel the silence
Holding this all inside us
Everything means more now than
Words could explain

And if we feel the silence
Leaving this all behind us
When it's gone what will you say
How do we hold on (5)
You lie awake at night
With blue eyes that never cry

...It's my song for the day! Ain't these lyrics just lovely?! :D

Nostalgic! (yet again!)

I miss my kitchen! I miss my katoris wrapped with cling film with my sabzis stored safely for tomorrow. I miss the overflowing refrigerator, the super-heated heater, the walls with colourful collages, the inadequate chairs, the dripping freezer, the whirring of the washing machine providing the background score for the endless conversations highlights and revelations of the day being discussed and debated with a frenzy that would put all Indian netas to shame! over cold lunches, community dinners, hot coffees, bland teas, and the cookie smells from the oven or the burning smell of the toast I forgot to remove from the grill!

"Ah! Those were the days!..."

It's Holiday Time...Tra-la-la-la-la...

Everyone is in the holiday cheer. Eid is just around the corner, which translates for me into 3 days of classes-free existence. Papa Noel has finished packing his goody-bag, so all the naughty kids are hoping they weren't that naughty after-all.
All my students want me to leave classes early, my colleagues disappear before lunch-time. I finally have a vacation planned and booked! I am excited! Yay! Yay!

It's Christmas time! It's snow time! I was looking at these pictures from last year, and nostalgia set in (as always), and I wanted to go back and do it all over again, the christmas lights, the snow-angels, the heavy sweaters, the hot coffee, the German fairs, the marshmallows, the chocolate coated strawberries, everything!

I miss you my snow-angel!

Graduate Applications and Me

It's strange how so many graduate applicants go through similar emotions and actions and yet pretend so well their utter clueless-ness about the existence of "the others".
I am not saying there should be a support group, trust me there are many, I just want to feel that I am the only ONE, that only MY life is unfair, only I have BIG problems, only I have to face these horrible pressures and scrutiny...
All of that just so that I can say "Gah! Life! *sigh*" and move on happily. But they won't even give the pleasure of feeling that!! I'm done with praising myself, done with being overtly polite to strangers, done with asking for favours, done with filling out idiotic forms, done with worrying about the stupid "to be or not to be", the meaning of which I only truly comprehend now, I'm done with being pushed around by dumb-ass nothings and nobodys, I'm just done with it all!
I want to yell, I want to scream, I want to vent all the vex, all the anxiety, all the unwanted tensions. I want to crib! that I am the only one poor little soul on this planet who desperately needs, more than needs, deserves a break! and a BIG BREAK at that, not one of those the Kit-Kat breaks. I can't have those, I'll put on too much weight.

Now that my GradApplications are *almost* over, I want to do something crazy; colour my hair pink, may be run-away to an exotic island all by myself, jump off a cliff and then realize I can fly, or may be I'll just get a tattoo. Nah! I'm scared at the sight of the needle. Everytime I watch "Miami Ink", I feel like getting a funky tattoo, you know, one on the back of my shoulder, a bar-code with the Fibonacci sequence, wouldn't that be just cool!?! I wish I had that thing that you need to have to get a tattoo, or for that matter get anything that has even the remotest hint of being permanent. For now, the only thing that has a permanent mark on it, is my PhD *plan*. I guess, everything else can wait, or not, or whatever!

P H D

Piled Higher Deeper...

? Money V/s Satisfaction ?

I had a misconception about myself, which was dispelled recently.
I always had a question when "adults" spoke about their jobs. I used to wonder how many of them really like what they do? Do they do it because they like it? Or do they do it for the money?
And then I used to question myself, hypothetically of course, given a choice between money and job satisfaction, who would I go with? And my answer almost always was MONEY, without a doubt. The argument went, if I don't have enough money, I was bound to crib, which again entailed dissatisfaction, so money was a definite choice for me.
Recently, very early on professionally, I actually had to choose between two job options, one that gave me money and the other, immense job satisfaction. To my very great surprise, I chose job satisfaction; I did not stick around the other job for the money! I did not care for the money!
Again I asked myself, if I were to earn my bread, earn my livelihood doing this, would I still choose satisfaction over money? And this time around the question has left me in the 'don't-know/can't-say' zone!
Why is this question so important? I have no idea, but I wanted it out with it, so there!

I started writing "Of things I left behind" series because I was missing everything and anything that reminded me of UK. I don't know if it was telepathy or coincidence, but PG wrote a blogpost recently which says all the things I wanted to say, only more articulately.

"

Perhaps I'm just in a very nostalgic sentimental phase of life, but the kitchen brings back such fond memories. Mornings and afternoons and evenings and nights spent gossipping over boiling pasta, analysing love lives over mugs of hot chocolate, talking about friends and fun from back home over community dinners - D takes care of aloo, P takes care of rice, R handles the veggies, J does the parathas, P does the dal - singing along with James Blunt over a mop and vaccuum cleaner, stuffing an overstuffed fridge with labelled green peppers, screaming noisy crass meaningless hindi filmi numbers in chorus on a tipsy freezing cold night. Making brownies from scratch, making pizza from scratch, making oatmeal cookies from scratch, making 5 kinds of stuffed parathas from scratch, making Aunty Daisy's lemon pudding from scratch, pancakes and honey, rolling puris with a coke can, tossing spagetti on a wall to check if it's done, poking around in the cake and then wondering why it isn't rising, visiting mums and feasts, birthday parties, late night movies on laptops that weren't loud enough, photography sessions that went on for hours, last minute essay submissions, makeover sessions, kitchen wall collages, christmas lights, diwali diyas. I do the cooking, you do the dishes; I do the clearing, you do the wiping; I do the mopping, you take out the garbage; and then we sit together and look at holiday pictures and tell stories and exchange gifts. Or we gush about clearance sales and parade our exploits. Then there's the cute guy at the bank, and the tutor with a smile to die for, or the very hot lab partner, or the fellow who gave you the look in the computer cluster, or a cheating boyfriend, or a long distance relationship gone sour, or a story of unrequited love, or an all-the-way-from-middle-school-to- now crush that went her own way. And you dream. Of a Harvard PhD, a world-tour, a cafe-cum-library, living happily-ever-after.

"

Miss you guys SO much! (MUAH! HUGS!)
I want to go back! I want to do it all over again!

I've been perplexed and living in a constant state of anxiety for the whole of this month, what with the grad applications (yes, I'm still not done with them; 5 gone, 5 more to go), severe sleep deprivation, a bout of cold-flu-cough and the feeling of being utterly useless which has come about by the flash realization that teaching business = monkey business. And as if that was not enough, now my tiny brain has to cope with these bloody scientists who go and publish "Chimps Exhibit Superior Memory, Outshining Humans"!!!

What followed reading that article was funnier. I went and switched on TV. And what it was playing was this:



To hell with the population explosion, all you intelligent people out there, PROCREATE!!

Madhuri is Back...

...And How?!

Just back from 'Aaja Nachle'.

And I'm saying it for the nth time since I left the cinema-halls, Madhuri is just brilliant. I never thought I had missed Madhuri's presence in tinseltown until today...! Honestly, the only two things that worked for me in the film were the dances and the dancer. I felt like going "haye" after every song.
Hats off to Vaibhavi Merchant! 'Aaja Nachle' actually felt like a Vaibhavi Merchant film rather than an Anil Mehta's!
It was such a treat watching good choreography! And! And! And! Madhuri was in it!

Anyhoo, I've had enough of me getting all excited over Madhuri's come-back, dancing abilities, etc. It's bedtime and 'they' say that sleep deprivation is detrimental to health, actually anyone's health, but I care more about mine. So, ...

Good Night!

Of Things I Left Behind. #2 (Memories of Food)

Basic Requirement #1: Food.

I was having coffee with a friend back from Leeds at "Mocha-Coffee and Conversations" and guess what we did there; we had coffee and conversations. I had a great time catching up for an entire year lost without Leeds' gossip! Can you imagine how much there was to talk about?! Well, and despite that, I could not get images from Kada's Cafe out of my head. I never actually figured the way to that place and I went there a minimum of 4 times (definitely), but then I guess I was always with 'DP', so I never bothered remembering it. Anyways getting back to Kada's, I loved the Cafe Mocha they served, oh! and the carrot cake *mouth-watering* It had a very Moroccan look to it. Nice dim lights (not the stumble-and-find-your-way types), cozy sitting areas (lots of pillows), low, ornate tables and windows and most importantly a genial owner. Perfect for an intimate rendezvous. AND this was the only place open till 3am!!! That was the USP really; what with Starbucks and Cafe Nero shut by 6pm sharp!

'La Cafeteria'!! Anytime anyone felt they were in a festive mood or just wanted to randomly celebrate, this was the place for us! Outdoor seating like Cafes in Paris, indoors there were replicas of Van Gogh hanging on the walls, music instruments waiting for anyone who cared to play them. A set of games kept near the door,very welcoming ambience and a brilliant cook. Specialities of this place: Arabic pizza, Potato wedges with the most perfect salsa I've ever tried, the chocolatiest chocolate cake with ice-cream/whipped cream (Only I preferred whipped cream...oh, well!), the fruity drink (served in big, coloured glasses with coloured straws, you have to trust me on this one, it looked beautiful) and the chocolate drink with whipped cream and marshmallows (Yuummmmmmmmmmmmm...I'm hungry now).

And the last on my favourites list, "Jino's Thai". I guess the name says it all. The most authentic and tasty thai food ever! Very friendly people (who allowed outside booze and luckily for us Sommerfield was on the way, so picking up a wine was always more than convienient). The only other thing, after the long distance, that bothered us was "By Reservations Only" and on a weekend, imagine what a pain it used to be!

Of course, there were other places we frequented, some more than any of the above hang-outs, for example there was the 'Refectory' where we went for all our lunches as long as we were in Labs, there were pizzas from 'Papa's', 'Romeez', sandwiches from 'Bakery 164', Veggie Pittas at 'Nandos', coffees and sandwiches at all the 'La Dolce Vitas', danishes, tarts, cookies from Ainsleys, and then the usual Pizza Huts and Burger Kings and McDonalds... But well, the time I spent at my 3 favourites has been awesome, the conversations, memorable and all the people I went there with, very special.

"Ah! Those were the days..."

*Twitch* *twitch* *twitch*...

It's midnight. I am tired. I'm supposed to be writing my "Statement of Purpose". And it doesn't help that I have to try real hard to make myself *sound* interesting to a bunch of old professors who I (for some reason) find extraordinarily interesting.

Neil is not replying to email. I am thinking... Is he pissed with me? Is he annoyed? Or is it just me?

Classes have started. I still have to prepare for tomorrow's class. I haven't prepared for any of the classes I'm supposed to take this semester.

My stupid computer is acting weird. Runtime error, it seems! Gah!

I haven't exercised in the last 3 days. It's driving me up the wall.

It has been confirmed today (by two *nice* people) that I am impossible.

Mumma isn't home. I miss my Mumma. I want my Mummmaaa! *waaaaaahhh* I want my Mumma now!

Blah. Life!

I am tired. I want to sleep. But my eyes are WIDE OPEN. I am twitching like a bloody junkie, and all I had was dosa-sambar.

My brain refuses to go to sleep. It wants to keep thinking. (I wish I knew what it wants to think.)

Did I say this before? I am tired.

Blaaarrrrrgghhh. Life!

*Sigh*

*Sigh*

*Sigh*

Why am I writing this post? I honestly don't know. You tell me.

Of Things I Left Behind. #1

Anytime is a good time for nostalgia and all this application work keeps transporting me to a time when I handled and manhandled quite a few "matters"! ... "Ah! those were the days..."

Running around doing errands, requesting Profs for references, collecting, photocopying a million and a half documents, short-listing Universities, the actual applications and then wondering if the ones that have managed to make the list are really worth something in the long run. Then there were other issues that I had to figure; funding. I did not want to be one of those(read pampered and spoilt) kids whose only qualification for getting admits to the British Universities is parents with good-looking bank accounts! Thankfully, luckily, I did not have to be one of 'them'...
I've since left all the worries of funding far behind. My theory (and I hope as hell it works for me) is that: If I did not pay for my Masters why on this Earth would I pay for a PhD?! Besides NO ONE sane enough would consider coughing up $30,000/year for 4-5 years!?! So, most Universities give stipends which help cover for most of the costs.
(Anyhoo, the funding worries have now been replaced by other worries; if I have enough research experience, etc. But I'm not going to talk about it here, because I still have to leave it behind. When I do leave it behind, I will delve further on the "matter".)

Arrrgh! How did I start about my applications?!
I had initially decided I will write a post about my life in UK and generally reminisce about the good ol' days, but main yahan kahan aa gayi?! khair thik hai...this *was* how it ALL began!

I'll blog about it later.

Roosikins.

You're my Honeybunch, Sugarplum
Pumpy-umpy-umpkin, You're my Sweetie Pie
You're my Cuppycake, Gumdrop
Snoogums-Boogums, You're the Apple of my Eye
And I love you so and I want you to know
That I'll always be right here
And I love to sing sweet songs to you
Because you are so dear

Love you 'R'. Muah!

Why I Can't Be Funny and More.

(My randomness at its best(if I may say so myself)!)...

Why I can't be funny and why is it always that my sense of humor needs to do a HOO-HA!?!

#1: Because I laugh at bad jokes.
(Eg.:Have you heard this one?
"Why is 6 afraid of 7?"
"Because 7 8 9!!"
-HAHAHAHAHA! (Haanji, read as one of my silent fits of laughter!))

#2: My waking hours are spent in the "analysis mode". It's hard to crack jokes in that mode, man!
(Remark for self: I really need to turn it off sometimes.)

#3: I fall into the category of nerds, and nerds, according to me have a weird, whacky sense of humor which the non-nerds fail to understand. (No offence meant! (to anyone))

...Er, I have my funny moments (sometimes)...I am just not mentally equipped to deal with funny most of the time. Simply put, I am not comically inclined.
Don't get me wrong here, I like a good laugh. I enjoy a good laugh! ... It's just that it's so hard to come by! :(

Anyhoo musing on...the stuff that *I* think makes me *think* *I* am funny:

#1: High dose of Caffeine and/or Sugar and pulling off an all-nighter!
#2: My definition of moderate amounts of alcohol (which is not a lot if you ask me. It can't really be quantified; it's the amount that leaves me... *happy*, blissfully happy :) )
#3: Spending endless hours with my sister.
#4: And something I only recently found out, spending some more endless hours (yes, I have too much time on my hands! Ah! don't give me that look! Gah! not everyone is as lucky! ok?! :P ) with the FA gang! (Haye! I miss you guys!)
#5: When the mean streak in me comes alive.

Hmmn, I never thought I could be 5 point funny!

Looking for the light.

 

I want something else...


The heaviness of the meaningless whims,
Becomes hard to pass on to anyone else,
Alone is how I have to carry this it seems;
Through the tunnel, Until I see hope’s rays and beams...

...I feel I’m cracking under pressure,
Still feeling my way around, very unsure,
Trying to be strong at this point of censure.
The end of the tunnel is somewhere close, I’m sure...

...The cracks deepen, and I sit and stare,
Into nothingness as if this is all I care.
Rescuing reality from fantasy’s claws,
Looking at the times to come cause,
The end of the tunnel is somewhere close...

...At the end of the tunnel there will be light
And through these cracks it will reach inside me
And enlighten me to bear the lightness of being.

Little Birdie, Fly Away

Little birdie in your nest,
Little birdie it's time to rest,
When the sun comes out to play,
Little birdie, fly away!

--Nursery Rhyme.

 

(I took this picture, and might I add, by being painstakingly patient. It's not stolen from any website!)
...

I wanted to fly. I flew away. Far away. I explored. I landed. Sometimes I crash-landed. There was pain. I overcame it. I learned. I improved. I moved on.

...

I want to fly again, but I don't want to be scared. I can't take the pain anymore, I want to be safe.

...

Somewhere along the way, between then and now, things have gone awry. And I can't put a finger on it, or maybe I'm afraid I might point my finger instead...

...

Thinking In Sound.

‘M’ emailed me a couple of articles she read about famous people who ‘think in sound’. That got me thinking if it was actually possible. Actually possible for me.

Language would be an imitation of sound to help better communication between living beings. It is a means of expression. Now, language, when it follows a tradition, brings with it certain barriers in it's universal appeal in expression. (That is why, there are SO many languages and to add to it, every region has a dialect of it’s own.)
That is not the case with sound. Sounds sound the same the world over; the sound of pouring rain, the billowing wind, a bark, a sneeze; you can travel anywhere on this planet and they are still going to sound just the same.

So, what I’m inferring here is that sound, probably, will make a universal statement in comparision to language, and if used appropriately with language, will be a very powerful means of expression. (?!) And that makes thinking in sound important for people who are in the audio-visuals business.

I’ve been speaking in sounds, but there, the sound is for the effect. I wasn’t sure if I could think in sound. Sound says a lot without actually having to spell out everything.

Attempt to think and write in sound:

Early morning sounds in the life of ‘P’:

BRRRIIINNNNGGGGG! BRRRIIINNNNGGGGG! BRRRIIINNNNGGGGG! BRRRIIINNNNGGGGG! BRRRIIINNNNGGGGG!
Click.

Rustle. Yawn. Swoosh.

Plod, plod, plod, plod, plod, plod… drip, drip, drip in the background becoming louder.

(oh! well! I have to use other words, I’m too used to thinking in language to be able to give up on it completely)

Pppppppfffffffffrrrrr, pffffrr----pffffrrr, brushing sound, pthoooo, gargle, phtooo
Splash, splash

Plod, plod,plod, plod
Clack, click, click
Bubbling/boiling sound.
Click, click, clack

Clink, clink.
Pour.
Phooo, phooo...
Gulp...

---

Arrrgh! This is so darned tiring! and I don't even know if this is actually making any sense with simply the sounds?!

Overdose of Onomatopoeia?! I hope not!

Ah! C'est La Vie!

By the end of the semester, I had begun to hate teaching at FC. This comic strip just restored my hope; I'm not alone in this TA-ing world... I can survive another semester here!

C'est ça la FC! C'est la vie!

Bah!

Life seems so predictable; sometimes it gets hard to differentiate one day from the next. There is the frenzied, hyperbolic beginning and then there is the inevitability of the routine. NOTHING exciting seems to happen, life drags; things seem to be moving at a pace that would put a snail to shame, the inanity of every darned thing gets unbearable. And then one day!...everything changes (just like you always wanted) but then you realise that "the nothing" that you had was important, that the mundane life that you once had is what you really wanted. ... What then?
Everything just goes around in circles.


I know I am repeating myself here, but I can't get over it! It's there and I can't handle it anymore.

(Sorry for being so obscure)

Them and Me

They are everywhere.
They make me feel important.
They want me to do things.
They tell me what I want.
They want me to be happy.
They give me advice.
They ask nothing in return.
They say that is best for me.

...BUT...

I don't want them here.
I don't want to feel important.
I don't want to do things.
I know what I want.
I am happy.
I can think.
I want to be alone.
I am young, not foolish!

Why can't they understand?
Or is it me who doesn't really understand?

Is it them, or is it just me?

Ermm...

Paul Engle - "Wisdom is knowing when you can't be wise."

My Gmail Feed does the strangest things; the 'quote of the day' is almost always apt for the day that was...I WISH I COULD'VE READ THIS DARNED QUOTE EARLIER ON IN THE (YESTER)DAY!

Now, I feel all stupid and not-so-wise after-all! :(

Why does it always rain on me?

Conversations.

I said, I love the quote.

"I wanna live with a musician. She'd write songs at home and ask me
what I thought of them, and maybe even include one of our little
private jokes in the liner notes."

Then 'S' said:

"i love that quote, but doesn't the film suggest in the end that this
is just an empty dream, just wishful thinking? that you can't CHOOSE
the person you love in this clinical, scientific way?

one of my pet peeves in life (as i've mentioned so many times) is the
apparent gap between who you want and who you need - - a person you
*fall* in love v/s a person you *want* to fall in love with.

because as far as i remember, the musician fling doesn't work out for
rob gordon!
:'( "

Then I said:

"i love the quote independent of the outcome in the film, i love it just by itself. i don't really know if i would really love to live a musician, i just find the idea very romantic.
you know, a lot of things in life are about wishful thinking. and it's fun because it's wishful thinking. it gives you something to look forward to. If something is already perfect, there is always a catch somewhere, you know, maybe you just did not see the *conditions apply written in fine print, because you were so overwhelmed by its perfection. You know, you make things perfect for yourself...there are always compromises, it's whether you choose to make them or you have no choice but to make them...that's where all the difference lies.

another train of thought,
i believe you consciously make a decision of falling in love, it doesn't happen of its own accord. choosing a person in a clinical, scientific way, sounds cold, but you minimize your errors that way.
If you choose to fall in love without thinking, you have chosen to be blind in love. which means you have to compromise a lot more to account for your blind decision (I'm not saying it's wrong, i'm saying you always have an option to do otherwise, you simply choose to ignore it).
With wanting to fall in love, you are still falling in love, but with your eyes wide open...you know exactly what you are getting into, the parameters are already set, therefore the compromises, much less. i feel its a lot safer that way.

and the gap you speak of, in the first case you are already in love so it doesn't matter anyways, with the *want* to fall in love, you are willing to fall in love, so you are almost there, the rest is taking another step forward."

And the conversation ends.

Why did I make the conversation public, you ask?
Coz these things have predominantly been on my mind, last couple of days.

hmmn...

I fully justify my stand to me, then, why does my heart still feel heavy?

One Thing...

Is EVERYTHING redundant?!

I wonder if anything original really exists?!...Life is much too redundant. I mean every-fucking-one lives it! Everyone is born; everyone dies! I fail to understand how anything that happens in between could be anything but inconsequential mutations in the repeats. It just seems that everything that one has done is a repetition, only there is this remote possibility that you don't know about it YET.

And then there was...

"This is your one opportunity to do something that no one has ever done before and that no one will copy throughout human existence. And if nothing else, you will be remembered as the one guy who ever did this. This one thing."

--Sam in Garden State

And then I wondered all over again...

What is my one thing? Does everyone have their one thing?

Rhyming and Poetry.

I was watching a series on television where they ridiculed a pansy, pathetic, wanna-be poet!
Watching it I wondered if poetry/rhyming was actually that hard? and I decided to try my hand at it...and guess what I figured?!

Not only that it's difficult! but it's draining as well!

Well, so, here is my Vogon attempt at poetry!

I try very hard to write
Something I hope wouldn't be too trite
Of things unsaid
Of things beyond the staid
Why am I writing in rhymes
Because they sound like chimes
OMG! All of this has gone over-board
Ok, I'll stop before you get bored.
Oh! you say, I should go on?
I won't be fooled, I see you've put your ear-muffs on!


I honestly hope that you did not require the use of the "imagery intensifiers, rhythmic modulators, alliterative residulators, or the simple dumpers" to help you heighten the experience of reading my poetry!


If you've read this far, your patience is gratefully appreciated! :)

Philosophy of the D in my PhD.

I plan to apply for a PhD soon (read,in a couple of months), and I took up teaching so that I don't sit at home listlessly, uselessly, and basically to avoid making my life pointless. You get the idea, right?!
(the pittance of a pay-check is responsible for such negativity towards teaching!)

I'm between my M Sc and my PhD,
I am in the transition state, let's call it 'D'
'D' is the high-energy state where all the excess energies are being resourced towards attaining a stable state PhD.
*nerd alert blaring at top volume!*

Yes, the point of all the rambling is something I read written on the black-board when I entered my classroom.

"Experience is something you get when you are looking for something else."
--Anonymous

How perfectly it defined my transition state for me!

*sigh* *sigh* *sigh*

My Teaching 'Experience'...so far...

As time passed by, I realized that sitting at home made me progressively dumber, stupider (I know it's not a word!), it was driving me insane everyday. My mind had become so empty; I saw myself becoming the DEVIL!! Sitting at home reading, listening to music all day, watching all the films that I always wanted to watch, etc., it was all fun at first, but the realization that things in my life stayed where they were annoyed me immensely. Exciting things had ceased to happen in my life...the ennui seemed to have no end. That was when I decided, I had to set in motion all my blasted brain-cells and do something constructive with my time...I had to start working part-time somewhere, to keep myself occupied at any rate with something 'technical'...I was done with the non-technicalities of life! The artistic urges wanted to go to sleep while the practical, more scientific ones took over and took charge of my life! [spicing it up for me while they were at it! :)]

I started teaching. Something I always dreamed of doing!...but in my head, I always thought I would teach the grad-students (I've always considered them to be more committed to learning, and education, and have a wider knowledge base to work upon, etc.). NOW, here I was teaching first and second year under-grads! I mean, I was one of them so recently! I knew so well their never-ending need to be nasty to the new TA's! How I dreaded doing it!

Fortunately my first class with the first year B Sc kids was fabulous! *phew* I liked my students and they liked me! (atleast that is what I would sincerely like to believe). It was hard for me to accept how much I was enjoying teaching a bunch eighteen-nineteen year olds!...and thinking about it, for the first time, I realized what I was enjoying, I was loving the process of making better grad-students out of them! I was thrilled when they looked up to me for answers, I was elated when they asked me logical questions. It was fun leading them to answer their own questions, by deducing from the knowledge they already had, from their experiences and observations in day-to-day matters and then building upon it to finally teach them what I intended to do in the first place!

"The whole art of teaching is only the art of awakening the natural curiosity of young minds for the purpose of satisfying it afterwards."
--Anatole France (1844 - 1924), The Crime of Sylvestre Bonnard

So far, according to me, it has been an enriching and educating experience for me (definitely) and my kids (hopefully). To sum it all up...

"When one teaches, two learn."
--Robert Half.

GOD knows how much I love teaching! God bless my kids!



P.S.: The, er, inspiration for typing this post was the Robert Half quote on my Gmail. "Fucking coincidence" was what 'S' called it when he randomly emailed me same the quote just as I began punching in my thoughts in this space, I loosely refer to as 'my blog'! :D

Song Beneath The Song.

I absolutely love things that are beneath other things; the things unsaid, the subtle, obscure, hidden meanings that usually go unnoticed by "them". (for future references, "them" is the general, insignificant lot! bah!) I guess, no, I think, it makes a piece of work/art a lot closer to the creator's/artist's self. (I want to give this thought a little more thought, maybe another blog-post, some other day!)

I was listening to 'Song Beneath The Song' by Maria Taylor. I was moved more than I considered myself capable.

Hmmm, so why does my heart feel so heavy?

"Song Beneath The Song"

Cryptic words meander
Now there is a song beneath the song
One day you'll learn
You'll soon discern its true meaning
An interesting detachment
A listless poem of love sincere
Desire, despair
Overlapping melodies

And it's not a love, it's not a love
It's not a love, it's not a love song

And now the loops are reminiscing
Recurring dreams of minor chords
Metered time
Muted chimes find the beat

And in the pulse there lies conviction
A steady push and pull routine
Till cymbals swelled
High notes fell into reach

And it's not a love, it's not a love
It's not a love, it's not a love song.

--Maria Taylor.

There is so much undefined pain, so much undefined hurt and yet through all the undefined-ness (?!)I could still, strangely identify with it! it's not the simple sadness, there is something about this song that intrigued me immensely, and without knowing what that was, I still felt that I had experienced it somewhere... at some lost locus within the length of my lifetime...am I making any sense?! anyways, I hope I am, it's so hard to articulate such complex thoughts and emotions).
No-no, don't get any wrong notions about my life, it has been almost perfect (touch-wood!), no complaints there, but the song struck a chord somewhere, stirred something within me which I had forgotten existed; somethings I had shut in a closet to be forgotten is more like it.

In 'High Fidelity', says Rob Gordon, "I wanna live with a musician. She'd write songs at home and ask me what I thought of them, and maybe even include one of our little private jokes in the liner notes."
Listening to that... all I wanted to scream out was...."Me tooo!!" (just replace the 'she' with 'he', of course! :D)

Sorry, I digress. So, coming back to this song, it sort-of, seems to belong to the category of such private songs written especially, with personal liner by the poet somewhere. *sigh* [I dunno why I sighed, just felt like a sigh would sum up all the things that I'm leaving unsaid! :)]

Someday. Someday, someone is going to write a beautiful song about me, a song for me. Someday.

On that thought, I will sign off.

P.S.: I just want to add, rather urge you to listen to this song...'Song Beneath The Song', it's lovely!

Love's labour lost (?!)

"There is something incredibly ridiculous about the feelings of people who you've ceased to love, and, who have in turn ceased to love you."
--Oscar Wilde in 'The Picture of Dorian Gray'.

Why?

It almost feels like a mockery to try and understand, to sympathize with the ones you've "gotten over" (not necessarily the falling-in-love kind of love, it's the same with all the relationships where there was any kind of love involved, be it close friends, family, etc.), it all seems put on, seems fake, cheap and artificial.
What is lost from the bond? All that went into making it work in the first place, does it reduce to nothing? Or does one go into denial that they have not "gotten over" in the true sense of the word? What happens? Is it just that one's priorities change? Is it that there are other relations (in want of a better word here) that now demand the labouring over?
The same things that would've kept one awake through nights... trying to figure a solution for the loved-one, suddenly seems trivial to the point that one even forgets that their previously loved one needs them, and needs them desperately?!
Do all the times they've let you down, when you needed them and they conveniently overlooked your problems become a source of this indifference?
Now that it's all over, does this indifference make one a bad person? Does it make one heartless? Does it matter at all?

Why does my heart feel so heavy?!

The Beginning...

'Tis tough to begin at the beginning; what came first, the egg or the hen?

Yeah, I don't know the answer, but I'm sure Mr Darwin would've been able to answer it. 'The Origin of Species' is what it all boils down to isn't it? (Disclaimer: I don't conform to this in totality, but mostly, I do!) Since this post isn't about the evolution of mankind/womankind (don't want the feminists to come knocking at my door wanting to give me a piece of their mind :P), I don't mind letting out a little more... this post isn't about the 'Big Bang Theory' either! (Aren't ya just happy to know that?!)
Well, without further a-do, without testing my lovely reader's patience, I will reveal the true intentions of my re-entry into the blogging world, well, it's not really a re-entry, it's more like a re-start (Coz I have officially deleted all the previous blogs!)...so, basically, the point I'm trying to get at is that, this is a new beginning of a hopefully longer affair with the blogging world!

Here's to uninterrupted blogging!
Cheers!