Return of blogging intention

While being completely subdued by the current state of affairs, it was probably the small talk about my future intentions that made me find out this option. It seems to be easy to blog from the smart phone. If not this can surely enable me to jot down some ideas which i can expand on later.

Chaos , and a question within.....

"Introduce a little anarchy, upset the established order, and everything becomes chaos, I’m an agent of chaos , and you know the thing about chaos? It’s fair."

I was thinking for a brief moment today on the sequence of events taking place across the world. Even as I write , there are nations , now multiples of them at war or "war" . It may look political , diplomatic or economic , but we are probably looking towards more serious developments in human lives , all across the world. And how incredibly do these get chained. Think for example the fate of a journalist convicted . If one is aware about the happenings at the UN meeting on racism and the developments in Israel , and the take of the largeness of the "war" while commenting on the developments near Pakistan by Britain's PM , we can see how chaos builds up, and guess what , its not fair. So is chaos ultimately going to control changes in all spheres ?
Note that by chaos I do not mean war , violence or criminal activities. I probably mean the loss of predictability of human life and emotions. One really does not know whats going to happen the next moment ...one hell of a roller coaster for life. Chaos , however sources from deterministic
actions. So question lies that if one action can cause the start of chain of events leading to randomness , why is there not another deterministic act which causes it to normalize. ?

Losing my train of thought , will probably update sometime

Morning Thoughts

A cold numb feeling woke me up this morning. My arm was under my head in a bad position and outside the cozy warmth of my comforter. I have been sleeping for 8 hrs now , a thought that got me immediately out of the bed.

It was dark and cold outside. Relativeness is a serious mind-stopper , so could not decide it was cold enough for my loved ones were at far colder regions. Nevertheless , decided to go out for a cup of coffee at the K-circle . Hot coffee in the cold morning wind was a reasonable invitation to attempt shed the unending back-to-bed desire.

Having finished giving a quick glance at my mailbox I put on my heavy hooded jacket and trousers and ventured out into the fading darkness. It was misty and windy outside . The store keeper remarked "that would help opening your eyes" as I finished my transaction. Outside the store the roads were empty and occasionally noisy with cars drifting by. I have always liked this feeling of cars going by . It gives me a reason to believe in direction in life even when sometimes when I think macro , I lose track of direction. People fighting people in all possible actions , for something better , a feeling rising out of the mind . Every possible human action is mind driven with the urge for a better feeling. A thought that sometimes make me think about the vulnerability of the human mind n kind and if we are prisoners of ourselves.

Nobody gives a dam about the vastness of the universe , about the fact that if a small change of thermodynamics occurs in the universe , nothing remains ...all our laws, emotions , knowledge , wealth. Yet we still are led or made to fight for things we would not probably use effectively in our whole lifetime ...by our own mind ...by mind that affect our minds by various forms of communications

I guess I am not making sense in this rambling . Lets get back to work, it will make me feel better !!

Be Mean ....and be liked

This blog starts at a very rough moment , I am trying to get my grip on this excellent typesetting tool and don't guess , its La - Tex . Every other friend of mine seems to be all praises for this and I never seemed to get it , so I decided to bite the bullet and see for myself. There's few things I've already discovered which confirms my belief that this is nothing but a HPIA but here I go again ......being myself.

People get credited for being themselves , more often , they get crucified. Well , being yourself doesn't help for its easier to accept the warm fuzzy feeling down ones spine . " The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another" , remarks James Matthew Barrie and indeed , its true . What matters is the community , the socialization of the "being yourself " part. Every rebels story is one who has been himself , often for bad , sometimes good came out of it and ( lets coin a term here ) normalizers called them heroes . So in every action you do from the moment your butt sees another morning you are contesting against normalizers. Digressing I am ?, but thats a cats way of putting the fur together.

Most friendly incidents have made my eyes open at the central thoughts . I wonder why does a society have a central thought , guess what perhaps "central tendency" fits better and thats the mean. No, the society is not mean unless you are far from the mean , thats when you are not normal. If you say the same things it believes , if you don't break false warm feelings , if you accept a duplicate identity . "The great majority of us are required to live a life of constant duplicity. Your health is bound to be affected if, day after day, you say the opposite of what you feel, if you grovel before what you dislike, and rejoice at what brings you nothing but misfortune " ~Boris Pasternak observes and theres no tomorrow to this feeling.

The acceptance to the fact that you are not allowed to be yourself comes from talks , discussions and examples. I once had someone telling me " Don't argue with life , give up as fast possible and accept situation " ...it means ..be one of us , trying to make the world a happier place , with the warm fuzzy feeling right down your spine. And often we concede towards being normal , it almost always means having more people to like you and see !!! this loop is closed ...they like you because they see themselves in you , you are no different ...for mean you have become to this huge sample set and guess what ? to be "mean" is to be likable .

The Older Stories : The Wonderful Station

The wonderful station .

No one knows why he came . Expectations from degraded , immoral souls must have ebbed to a cresendo in his mind .

He was actually leaving station . It was his own folly which had brought him here . Perhaps he did not know which train to catch and his naivity saw an utopian world . Jumping into the first train available he had felt secure that since the movement has a direction , it surely has a destination . The train had got him to a place full of hubbub . People shouting , beggars and sellers urging passers by , fault finders and mystical builders arguing and many others toiling under the hard sun . Their faces were pale trying to fit 36 hours in a day . There was no morning and no night and was perpetually a land of aurora borealis . At times people will look up into the sky and see the mixing of colours , "wonderful" they will say . At that moment the life force would spike and feeling alive and immortal the toiling would continue .

Money was the least important thing there . Atleast thats what the workers beleived . Neither was it because they got paid in femto-percentages of the work they were doing . They were like crusaders , like fighters of a holy war whose only intention was to achieve what has been told , and all was fair .When tired , hungry and without money sometimes a poor soul would lift up his shaky hand with
eroded fingernails and like Oliver , ask for more . A sacriledge thus commited would immediately get pardoned as if nothing had happenned , one look at the morning calm and back the workers will be with the same life force . The fat cats would become fatter .

It was too much of good around . He did not like it . But before he could realize he got dazed like navigators in the songs of sirens .Days passed according to some , years according to him . Around this island of irritable work done by smiling zombies there was nowhere he can go. Trains came often , yearly and the rush was too much . Many tried to jump in , failed and got under the tracks , shrievelled , molested and got up smiling , looked up the sky and rejoined the crusade of lies .

The endless wait appeared to dissolve into dews as he got up the train . His hands were bruised , he had aged 10 years in 2 and his eyes had lost the eagerness by which they searched for life , years back when he wished so much he got into an adventure . But all that mattered was he was still reasonably ok , with high chances of rejekeration . Hands reached out to him , in vain he tried to reach out to some . Closing his weary eyes , he tried to dream wide awake in mind .

Dreaming was the first step to his purification .

The Older Stories : The New Beginning

It was 9 in the morning . Misty Chennai air was already becoming warm with the
overflowing Sun . The air smelled of coffee , sweat and something else . I think it was the new beginning.

The odyssey was on from a long time , I dont know since when , worklife , college days , school
toddling , perhaps even earlier , may be from my earlier births for the desire was choked to the point of thirst of decades . But it did not matter , the last battle was over , the war was won .

Things were excellent back at my place . My adopted child was dead , struck by lightening perhaps . My clothes were soaked in barley whiskey somewhere , I did not collect them .
It was a dry season , famine havoced the skies outside and the taps inside , water if at all
was full of iron salts , distasteful . My scrolls and books were long due , warnings were there
everywhere . But it did not matter , the last battle was over , the war was won .

It really took time to seep in that the war was over and I was back on track . That I was
free to run again , boundless and mercurial . In the direction of the open sun , towards
stars and comets . There was this stupid dampness everywhere and water seemed to condense
making my vision hazy . Those were not tears i know . Warriors dont cry .

The Older Stories : The Bonded Labourer

I often wonder what is the difference between bonded labourers and software engineers .
A kid writes an essay about his dream I want to be a software engineer . Parents are happy , if not ..well they'll write it for him.
But I wonder what would have happened if the same kid would have written " i want to be a labourer " , do you think the parents would have been happy or the
teacher would not have given him a strange look . But lo .... the kid wrote the essay ....the kid did his dreams ........... and he is a software engineer
I have seen going away from the kid , slowly ...
health, eagerness to learn , thinking power , basic mathematics , freedom to think ...
and these were the very things which got him here .......
i dont see conversion ratio or bpo's gathering food packets from giants ...
what i see is a kid , who now knows he's nothing more than a labourer ..
and writing an essay is no more an easy act for his words are now jargons , his thoughs are now nebulous ...
with a pain in the neck and strain in the eyes ..
he types .