Life theory #2

(For life theory #1, click here.)

Last semester was horrible (this one's worse, but that's a story for another time). There was shitloads of work, and the end semester exams were absolute disasters. So to get over the calamity that had been the past six months, me and S decided to do our (by now almost customary) end-semester shenanigans involving contraband, the night after the last exam. We got a nice big fat one rolled and were generally content with ourselves. Unfortunately, the exams had taken a toll on S and she fell asleep. I could not, of course, let a good thing go to waste. So after a few futile attempts to wake her up, I had to pick another partner in crime. Now G does not involve herself in shenanigans of this kind. But she is a nice enough friend to give me company when I do. So we sat out on the terrace while the stick at the end of my mouth burned out. At some point, the conversation tuned to something like this:

Me: X has a very pretty face.
G: Indeed.
Me: And very nice hair.
G: Hm.
Me: That's not really fair.
G: Say what?
Me: I mean, she doesn't deserve it. If I had my way, I'd like to live in a world where people only get what they deserve. And what they deserve should be based on how intelligent they are. And X is not intelligent. She is, in fact, the complete opposite of that. And by intelligent, I don't mean book smart.
G: Hold up. So you're proposing a world where only smart people are good looking?!
Me: Yes, that's how it should be! Attractive people get what they want. That should not happen if they are dumb. Dumb people do not deserve to look good, that's not right. In my ideal world, attractiveness would only be bestowed upon those truly deserving of it, and those truly deserving of it would only be those who are intelligent.

I remember G laughing a lot, so I gather it would've been a funnier conversation than I can presently recall. That might also be because a lot of it hinged on me using X as an example, and G happens to think that my disdain for X is rather comical.

Now I realize this is a very flawed model. Although I think that for a person not fully in her senses, I did rather well. Its inherent failings however were pointed out to me by a couple of friends much later. A world like that would mean a certain section of population hogging all the resources, the resources here being intelligence and good looks. That part which had neither of these would be left to fend for itself in an environment of adversity, to say the least, since they would have neither of those valued resources to progress in life with.

But the fact that I came up with such a world, and in fact was ardently passionate about its desirability, gave me pause. I've thought about it many times since, in varying states of sobriety. And I've come to realize that I perhaps value intelligence above all else, sometimes too much. Much more so than other people do. After all, the first book I ever saw my Dad read was Edward de Bono's Six Thinking Hats.

A friend recently told me about a phenomenon called sapiosexuality. It had instinctive appeal for me. I can't recall a single instance in my life when I've been attracted to someone purely based on their looks. They have to at least start talking for my mind to assess their appeal. Only when I have some basic impression of their overall level of intelligence can I mentally process any sort of inquiry about their desirability.
MS Word lists "good-looking", "nice-looking", "beautiful", "gorgeous", "striking", "eye-catching", "smart" and "pretty" as synonyms for "attractive". Only one out of those eight relate to the mind, and that itself is debatable. To me, it's extremely unfortunate that societal constructs today make it impossible to divorce something as subjective as attraction from pure physical appearance. But while that may be so, it's not enviable to possess an inherent condescension of people who're not all that smart. For instance, I'm almost physically incapable of carrying on any form of prolonged conversation with people below a certain level of intelligence. It's agonizing to make that effort. It deeply saddens me when I make a witty joke and certain people don't understand it, but as a consequence, I immediately start looking down on those people.

There are many qualities one can possess which make them a "good person", or someone others tend to like. Kindness, helpfulness, generosity, love. The weird thing is, I can forgive the absence of all of them, as long as someone is intelligent. I have no qualms being close friends with a person who doesn't donate to charity or feel for the poor, or even someone who steals an occasional twenty rupee note from my wallet, as long as I can make intelligent conversation with them. This raising of the quality of the human brain to a pedestal worthy almost of worship, even at the cost of, and much above, other values which may be more significant or important, is unhealthy to say the least.

I realize that all this ranting sounds rather presumptuous, especially because of the inherent assumption that I myself possess very high intelligence. While I wouldn't say that that's necessarily true, I do believe I'm smarter than the average 20 year old Indian girl. And I'm open to the possibility that that is mere illusion. Unfortunately, this belief had long ago transcended from an objective, empirical fact about myself open to challenge, to an internalized thought stubbornly etched in my mind. It's like marriage, you suspect that there's something wrong with that construct but it's close to impossible to overturn deeply ingrained beliefs that society holds about it.

In other news, Game of Thrones Season 3 starts on Sunday! Life will regain a smidgenny modicum of the excitement that it used to have, before Seervai, Baxi and Nariman readings took over. And it will be awesome.

Top 5 Things My Brother's Wedding Taught Me

#5 That, surprise surprise, I am capable of looking pretty.

#4 That weddings are fun! I'm already looking forward to the next family wedding. (July, come faster! :D)

#3 That those who find love are truly blessed.

#2 That no matter how much you hate, despise, abhor, absolutely loathe your family in certain moments, at the end of the day, they'll be the only ones sticking by and saying it's alright even if you got a little drunker than expected at your brother's Sangeet. It's important to love them back. You may not be able to control the house you were born in, but because you were, you CAN control the amount the others who live in that very house dance at weddings :)

And last, but most definitely not the least:
#1 That someday, this will happen to me as well. And maybe, just maybe, that's not so bad. 

It's Time to Break the Silence

My silence, that is. I'm not sure if anyone still reads this space anymore, and even if someone does, my opinions can't possibly be a matter of too much significance to them. But I want to do this for me. So even though this is a little belated, for whatever it's worth I'm putting it down in writing.

I first heard the news of the gangrape a few hours after it happened, from a friend. I wasn't angry. I wasn't outraged. I wasn't shocked. I smiled wryly and went on with my life, because you know what? That's India for you. No, not just Delhi, even though it's definitely the worst of the lot. But this is the country we live in. We kill our girl children when they haven't even been born yet, we kill them when they're infants, and if by some stroke of luck they survive, we marry them off early because it's their 'duty' to bear children when they're at their 'reproductive best'. We think it's only natural for husbands to rape their wives because once again, it's womanly 'duty' to provide sex to her husband. We consider it routine, not even worth mentioning, when drunken barely-men pass lewd remarks on women on the road, cop a feel in crowded buses or elevators, stalk or follow girls trying to walk home from work, or "even worse", a pub. And God forbid if anyone ever saw a woman walking with, let alone hugging or kissing a male friend. She had it coming then, she really did.
And if women are not safe on the streets, they're not safe in their homes either. Uncles stare, house guests ogle, and unless you happen to be one of the lucky ones, some day a man from your family, who you've been taught to trust ("because beta, family surpasses everything"), will come into your bedroom, sit on your bed and give you that sick feeling in your stomach. And in the next half hour, things you're not even old enough to understand will happen. Sometimes I'm just glad I live in a house where I know I'm safe, because I certainly don't know it out on the streets, even in broad daylight.

And let's not even get into what we can wear, what we can't, when we can step out of the house and before what time we must be home, who we can go out with, what we can do with them in public, where we can go and the million other restrictions that start with, "beta, I'm saying this for your own good." Do women not have an equal right to go out late at night with their heads held high? Can they not go to pubs without being deemed "loose" and "lacking moral character", while it's okay for men to do the same? Am I asking for rape because I went to watch a movie with my boyfriend? Is it impossible to survive in this country without obeying advice such as "you can't go out late if you haven't fixed up a ride home already. Your brother can though, he's not a girl. But it's not safe for you."? The other day, I caught myself crossing the road after I saw a bunch of young, slightly boisterous-seeming men approaching on the side I was walking on. It was dark and I was alone. I lowered my head and sped up a little bit. And what really bothered me about the whole thing was not that I did it, but that it was a completely subconscious act. THAT's the kind of CONSTANT fear Indian women must, and do, live in.

No, it's not about the law. No, it's not about punishment, or even police enforcement (although let's face it, those things aren't helping either). It's about the mindset. Capital punishment or chemical castration is not the solution. India has some of the strictest laws against rape. Their implementation may be flawed, to say the least, but it's not about that either, which is where I take issue with the people who say the problem is the ineffectiveness of legislation and police action. In India, rape and...associated acts, for want of a more concise phrase, are about establishing your dominance over the woman. Humiliating her, degrading her. It's a power play. Certainly surer and swifter punishment can only better the situation, but these are short-term solutions. Rape and violence against women might decrease because of them, but it'll be due to fear. Not out of any sense of genuine respect for women, which is what's truly lacking in our nation. Women are to BE suppressed. Women are to BE the weaker sex, and if they are not, they are to be made so. How else can one explain people WATCHING, as women get raped?! They make videos on their cellphones! No one calls the police. Men FUCKING WATCH.
That doesn't happen anywhere else.

And the mindset doesn't just manifest itself in such acts. Frankly I've made my peace with the fact that rape and molestation happen every twenty minutes. When you read something or hear of it again and again in the news, it stops shocking you or making an impact. What really bothers me is that if I stay in this country, the one day I get raped, it'll be MY fault. MY fault for wearing a skirt that was two inches above my knees, MY fault for staying in the bar until 11 pm, MY fault for going out with friends who happen to be males. And I'm basically ASKING to get raped if someone sees me drinking or if I happen to approach a random person on the street asking for a light or a cigarette, when I'm wearing JEANS no less! ("How can woman wear jeans?! Do they not want to be 'good traditional wives'? Raam raam!!"). 

I'm not saying rape doesn't happen in other countries. Just not with such fucking frequency, intensity and impunity.

Sometimes I think we're lucky that things like female foeticide and infanticide are so rampant in our country. At least those girls would never have to live in a world like this.

Misery loves company

The walls are closing in. Your sun is going down, turning your horizon from a fiery red into a bleak grey. The crushing sense of defeat weighs down on you, asphyxiating you, closing off your avenues. The future doesn't look so good anymore.

You were never good for anything, you realize. It was all lies, what they’d said. All of them. Big ol’ liars.

You've ruined everything. It was your fault. Every single time. Nothing else seems to matter anymore.

Failure is second nature to you. But you've just realized it.

Your world is crashing down around your ears. And all you can do is look on with a wry smile.

Change

About a couple of months back, a close friend told me I had changed a lot. He told me I used to be very different when I had just entered law school, which was a little over 2 years ago. It got me thinking.
Basically, I think the gist of what he was trying to get at was that I used to be much more uninhibited, more unstructured, more fearless. Care less. Do whatever the fuck I wanted. And now it's all about memo submissions, good grades and good placements. Law school's most vulnerable victims, unfortunately, turn out to be those who develop an inherent fear of project deadlines (and the like, you know what I mean) and are constantly looking for things to do, to put it in a very simplistic manner, to increase their value in terms of potential recruitment. Sad, but true. Life becomes a dreary path towards one sole aim, the attainment of what our (let's face it) still-regressive Indian society calls a 'stable job and a settled life'.
Yes, maybe I'm exaggerating. But I have a feeling he's right about me. I was watching a typical teenage music video the other day and it struck me that I think I've forgotten how to have fun entirely.
On the other hand, there's always the nagging fear that if I let myself loose too much I'll never get a decent lifestyle after college. I suppose this kind of mentality is exactly what he was hinting at. And the worst part is, I don't think most law school kids would have the balls to admit it, but this is exactly what law school makes of you. Balancing a life and good academics isn't easy.
I must add having fun to my to-do list.

In other news, it is Benedict Cumberbatch's birthday today. He is so lovely he makes me weak in the knees.

I also went to Nainital on holiday for about 3-4 days. Really nice place. We went to the nearby lakes and stuff too. There was this one particular one which I liked way more than the others. It was huge and nice and clean, mostly because barely any people lived nearby. I think if I could have just one perfect day in my life, it would be to go and find a place to sit on the banks of something like that and spend the whole day there with a good book and some music, all alone. That, for me, would be the definition of absolute contentment. If I could have that, it doesn't matter whether I'm in Nainital or Switzerland.
I also developed the habit of sitting on a little rocky ledge right outside my hotel (which was at a height from the main city) for a short while with my iPod every night after dinner. The weather was absolutely brilliant and the ledge offered a nice view of the Nainital lake. I love the way water turns black in the night. I remember walking along Havelock beach at night when I had gone to Goa. It was pitch dark. You could see the black water only for a short distance in front of you, and then, nothingness.
I have also realized that the perfect music for places like these is the In Bruges soundtrack.
All in all, a brilliant trip.

I haven't done any other traveling this summer so I badly needed this. Travel is something I don't think I could live without. I think I will always love it more than I could possibly ever love any human being, with the exception of my parents.
I am currently reading The Salmon of Doubt by Douglas Adams. People like him give me an immense inferiority complex. I always feel so small and unaccomplished-in-life in front of his comic genius. A long time ago, I had read someone's interview where they were asked that if they could choose one era or time other than the present to be reborn in, which would they choose. I remember thinking then that if I ever grow up to be rich and famous (*snort*...fat chance), and someone interviewing me asked me the same question, I would have answered the time of P.G. Wodehouse without even thinking about it. For one thing, he existed. For the other, it really seems like a brilliant time period to be living in. And people like Adams and Wodehouse, well, reading them is simply...orgasmic.

I'm also almost done with Season 2 of Game of Thrones. It is an E-P-I-C series. And I have officially fallen in love with Tyrion Lannister.

2 of my friends are mucking about in Europe and I'm INSANELY jealous. I know I've seen most of the continent before and it's only their first time, but it almost physically hurts, the thought of them being there and me being stuck here. I would give an arm and a leg to travel to Europe with friends. Hopefully someday I won't have to.
I'm going to stop ranting now. I haven't written so much without editing since...ever, possibly. Now I will dive back into the world of Douglas Adams to assuage my pain. And it will be awesome.

Of Babies (and my somewhat tumultuous relationship with them)

At the outset, I would like to make it very clear that I do not hate babies. No, I do not think they are evil aliens (let's face it: sloppy, messy, icky, have their own language. Just because they're not a sickly green in color doesn't mean we have to give them the benefit of doubt) put on Earth to foil humanity's plans of progress with their own cunning schemes. What I hate is the almost-universal assumption that if you have a vagina, you must love babies. Unlike some of my friends, I like babies. However much I always come down to referring to them by 'it' instead of 'he' or 'she' (just so much more convenient). As long as they're being nice to me.

Think about it. Would you tolerate a grown up person who has suddenly taken to rather hurtfully pulling your hair and stealing your glasses all the time? No, right? (If your answer to that was yes, please get yourself tested for insanity. Or (yay!) start reproducing immediately!) Then why must we extend the same courtesy to persons who are simply a little smaller in size?

I just think kids can be annoying sometimes. I fail to understand how their mothers handle them. For the life of me, I cannot figure out a goal for babies other than to destroy everything they see about them and irritate the fuck out of rational, sane people like me.

Having said that, I must also stress that the following events were NOT INTENTIONAL.

Going in chronological order, when I was 8, I dropped a baby out of a window. . It was a ground floor window so no major damage done (no trips to the hospital and the like, but that was perhaps simply because I went outside, picked him right back up, came in and acted like nothing had happened). And yes, it has been drilled into me time and again by people to whom I can feel sufficiently unashamed telling this story, that any mental retardation that this kid might suffer once he grows up, however slight, will be my fault. However I assuage my guilt by telling myself that on the other hand, he may just turn out to be another Stephen Hawking. But then I remember how Stephen Hawking probably hasn't gotten laid in a long, LONG time.
Again, I emphasize that this was NOT deliberate. Here's how it happened. I was simply sitting on the window ledge with the window open because it was such a nice summer day. For some unfathomable reason, all the rest of my family were busy and had given responsibility of the baby to me. If you think about it, it's their fault really. I'm the real victim here. I mean, who the fuck gives responsibility of a tiny baby to an irresponsible 8 year old?! And the little thing was so tiny, I was simply trying to shift his position in my arms and before I knew it, I heard a loud splat on the pavement outside. This has given rise to one of my rather infamous nicknames, aka 'window-popper'.

Something similar happened when I was 10. Clearly I hadn't learned my lesson. I was very fond of picking up my nephew under the arms and flinging him round and round in circles until we were both dizzy. Dangerous, you say? Fun, I say. After all, Mom used to do the same thing to me. Soon enough, I realized that that was probably because she was more responsible. One of those times a-flingin', he slipped out from under my small hands and fell. Thankfully again, no real damage. But this time I resolved to get my act together.

Cut to 2010, when I slapped a random baby at a metro station. Again, I must stress that this was not intentional. It was simply one of those busy intersections at Rajiv Chowk when I was in a hurry to get to college. It was a rather chilly Monday morning. Now in order to get to college I must put in a good 1.5 hours of commute, which means I must wake up at an ungodly hour in the middle of the night when it is still dark. And I cannot stress this enough, but I am NOT a morning person. Pissed off, cranky and barely keeping my eyes open, I managed to hear the announcement for my next train which was to arrive in a minute, while I was more than a minute away from the platform. So I made a run for it, with some five bags of luggage in my hands. Now under such circumstances, a certain amount of random baby-slapping becomes inevitable. I rue the woman in the burkha who had her son in her arms and was walking calmly in the opposite direction across the bridge which connects the two platforms. She probably used to think the world was a good and happy place. After her young son's head had finished lolling from my impact, her beliefs would have been shattered. My friends seem to find this highly amusing and in such circumstances, I am ashamed to admit, it is a little difficult to be as contrite as I probably should be.

More recently, I have been frowned upon for simply airing my opinions about kids in a metro. We were talking about how annoying babies are and how we might prefer puppies instead. Now there is good reason for this. Right next to us were a couple of kids who were reaching new levels of irksome I did not know existed, fidgeting relentlessly, wiping off their boogers on our sleeves and generally creating a completely unnecessary fuss. Next to them was their mother who was clearly incapable of controlling these two tiny creatures from Hell. Just as we were about to get off, she berated us for our views and told us that it was not her fault, kids are 'like that only'. She even scolded the only one of us who was talking pro-baby. And on the station we saw her pointing us out to who undoubtedly seemed to be her husband, in a rather contemptuous manner. My compatriots seemed to be all up in arms, ready to fight to the death about their right to freely express their opinion in a public place (a sad occupational hazard that law students suffer form), but I managed to calm them down and dissuade them from their death wish, for in a public place like this, the public would surely take the mother's side. In fact my own mother did so when I narrated to her the incident later in the night.

And today all this seemed to be a source of much entertainment for some gentleman eavesdropping on our conversation in the metro while pretending to read his newspaper. Moreover, this has led to many unfortunate nicknames that I've been christened by some of my friends. I repeat, I am not against babies per se. I simply doubt I'd ever like to have one. I just think I would be the kind of mother who forgets that she's left her kid at Walmart or on the changing table, or tells her young child to fuck off because Mommy and Daddy need to get it on.

Unfinished Sentences

Feelings. Emotions. Too much in head.

Uneasiness. Queasiness. Simple boredom? Maybe. I think not.

Same old routine. Meet a new person. Get too attached. World does NOT revolve around ANY single person. Reminders to no effect. The heart wants what the heart wants. The mind thinks what the mind thinks. Obsession. Infatuation. Every action. Commanded by him. Always, at the back of my mind.

Shiny new object of affection. Unexplored, untouched. Boundless possibilities.

Time. Boredom. Nonchalance. Indifference. Too much effort for sustenance. Who gives a shit anymore? Unrequited love. Sour grapes. Commitment issues. Phobia. Of the future. Of the present. Of the fucking past.

Tapped personalities. Untapped personalities. Remaining untapped because I couldn’t care less. Fading away.

Pain. Hurt. Anguish. Don’t want this. Can’t help it. Wish I could.

Boredom.

Void. Filling? Substances. Contraband. Can’t get out. Of my head. Of this place. Stuck inside, knocking against the edges. Hurting. Need to take mind off. Sufficient distraction. Seemingly impossible. Contraband. Contraband. Revert to contraband. Houston, we have a problem.

Emergency. Trouble. Parents. Fuck it. High. Happy. Sway. Live. Peace.

Contented. After all this time.

Finally.

Need. Alcohol. Now.

It all comes sweeping back. The memories. The visions. The words that were said. And those that weren't. The feelings in my head.

All together now. All in that one single moment. A plethora of emotions, recollections. Like a giant wave suddenly rushing into the sides of my brain, crashing and churning. Like a surge of liquid insistently calling attention to itself. Wanting, trying, to envelop me...to drown me.

And the bottle holds it all.

Guilt. Guilt. Guilt.

'Guilt alone, like brain-sick frenzy in its feverish mood, fills the light air with visionary terrors, and shapeless forms of fear.'

P.S. I've recently learnt that I suck at writing pornography. Another alternative career gone out the window. Ah well.

Questions

They say you should never trust anyone. They say you walk the path of life alone. They say no one is truly your well wisher. But then they say you should always have a confidante, a best friend. They say you should share your feelings and not be bottled up inside.

How is one supposed to reconcile the two? People blame me for being cagey, for not spitting out what I’m thinking, for not talking about my “feelings”. But how am I supposed to do that when every time I do, someone lets me down? That’s the thing about people isn’t it? People. They will always let you down.

Let’s be logical here. Once you have something called a best friend, you start having certain expectations of them. And then, inevitably, a time comes, when they’re tested. Tested on the threshold of friendship. And they let you down. Always.

And once that happens, people say you should have known. They say you acted foolishly. They say you’re naive, and immature, and have no knowledge of how the world works.

So is this what the world has come down to? Really, is it?

People. They will always let you down.

Because

Because the imprint of her lips stayed in his head.

Because he loved pushing back her curtain of hair while talking to her.

Because she could roll a joint more perfect than any of the guys.

Because of that look on her face when she inhaled.

Because he couldn’t get the smell of her out of his senses.

Because she could lose herself so completely in the music.

Because she looked to the darkness to cover her tears.

Because of how her kohl always smudged below her eyes.

Because he always wanted her head on HIS shoulder.

Because behind that smile, there was a broken girl he was itching to mend.

I Really Don't Know What to Title This

Remember how the zodiac signs changed recently? I found a document on my laptop which I had written around that time. Just ratted out whatever was on my mind, no editing, no revising. I found it again while randomly going through my laptop when I was getting bored, and it made for...an interesting read. I'm reproducing it here, with no changes whatsoever. Here goes.

Apparently due to some shift in the Earth’s position shit, a thirteenth sign called Ophiuchus or some such has been added and every sign’s dates have been changed. I’ve turned from a Gemini to a Taurus overnight. It just feels a little weird but apart from that I don’t really get affected by these things. I don’t think I believe in these things. Apparently the only reason that the number of signs initially was 12 was because Ptolemy was a very geometrical man and didn’t think 13 was a very symmetrical number. And according to Hindu astrology, we are all unique and cannot be clubbed together into any “signs.” We’re all free agents and because there are an infinite number of variations of the Earth’s position with respect to the Sun and the moon, we’re unique. Each and every one of us. I read Swami Vivekananda’s Chicago addresses, I found his speeches at the World Parliament of Religions in 1893 on WikiSource and read them all. It was actually pretty nice. He was talking about religious tolerance and universality and Buddhism and other religions. His main thing though was a long paper he presented on Hinduism there, like the seminars that happen at our college through which most of us sleep. It was amazing though, in the sense that it didn’t talk about Gods or Godesses, barely took any names. It was so philosophical. It enmeshed religion, science and philosophy all at the same time. It talked about how as opposed to Christianity where people are sinners, Hindus believe that each being is divine and has the God within him. And how the ultimate goal is to realise this God and stop tying down your soul to matter. How the soul is eternal, simply jumping from centre to centre or body to body when one dies. How God was eternal and creation was eternal, even providing a scientific explanation for it. How idolatry was simply the common man’s effort to reach this ultimate goal, his path to higher knowledge and wisdom. It was pretty interesting actually. Who knew I would ever be interested in spirituality and God?!

I think there’s a clear line of difference between religion and spirituality, and a very distinct one at that. I don’t think I’m a big fan of religion. Someone once told me that temples are filled with pretentious people. Some people go to the temple because they truly want to pray but some go because they want to show that they pray. I think that's true. Anyway I don’t like the idea of different religions with different Gods and different beliefs. I think there is a God, yes. I’m not atheistic or even agnostic, contrary to what my Facebook page says. I should change that actually. But I don’t know what the technical term for it is. S put it very succinctly once when I asked her if she believed in God, “I believe in God but I don’t believe in religion.”

I used to be agnostic, hence the Facebook status. But I think I started believing in God because of my NLUD entrance result. To get me in after 2-3 days of study was a miracle. It may be cheesy, but that is my belief. And I don’t pretend to be deep or spiritual or in touch with that side of me, if there is one, but I have a few measly beliefs and hopefully I will stick to them.

I think there’s someone up there who’s looking at all of us. And I think it’s very simple to be “good” in life. I think there are some basic principles which one must obey to be “good.” Simple things, you know, as long as you’re essentially a good person. Sweet speech, respect for those who deserve it, love to your parents and family and so on. That’s why I honestly don’t see anything wrong in premarital sex or homosexuality. It’s just an alternate life choice; it’s simply an expression of love, whether it be love with the opposite sex, love with the same sex or love with animals. Although with bestiality, the whole animal rights issue comes into play so I’m not very clear on that. But after all, wouldn’t one rather see an expression of love than guns and war? The more the love, the better the world. And I’m proud to believe that, however gay it may sound. =P

I don’t know about the afterlife. I don’t know if you go to heaven if you’re “good” in this life or not, but somehow I think it’s important to be “good.” I’m not “good” by my own standards, what with all the foul language and all. But I like to think that I’m essentially a good person, even if that’s only about 75% true.

I don’t like the idea of different religions because too often it leads to conflict. I think spirituality is different. It’s more like, getting to know yourself and trying to be in touch with your inner true self. Getting to know your soul and trying to rise above the everyday, the routine, the worldly. You know, achieving that higher knowledge. Swami Vivekananda says that each one of us has the capability to get in touch with God. Like, actually, get in touch. Hear his voice et al. Because that is the ultimate end. And we also have the capability to realise what our past life was like. If only we let go of matter, if only our soul stops being tied down to the physical, the worldly. I’d like to believe that. It would be awesome if I could hear what God was saying to me. I think that is spirituality. Trying to realise the divine within you. Maybe that IS the core of religion, in particular, Hinduism. To Swami Vivekananda it certainly seemed to be. But to me religion has always implied stories and Gods and idols and rosaries and material things. Swami Vivekananda says these are simply aids to the ultimate divine realisation. But how can you get in touch with yourself by using these things? Religion somehow has always seemed...crude, to me. Layman. Crass.

P.S. The credit for making me think about such things and put them down in writing goes partially to one very good friend, who doesn't read my blog as far as I know, but I'd like to acknowledge him here nonetheless. I would never have got around to penning this down or reading those speeches if it weren't for him, and now I'm glad I did.

Update: Just in case you're interested, click here for the speeches.

What Went Before

I remember how it started. I had dozed off on my bed, under my all-too-comfortable blanket, surrounded by thick Physics textbooks from which I was supposed to be solving Rotation problems (suckiest Physics topic ever btw). I had slept through the dawn of the year, woken some 40 minutes later, only to realize I had missed the advent of 2010. The arrival of the "most crucial year of my life." The one that would make me or break me. 2010 was to be the proverbial 'it'.

The second thought that popped into my mind was, "FUCK. How am I ever gonna finish Rotation by 4 am now?"

I still remember.

2010 had found me completely disheveled, not only hair-wise, but also life-wise. There were tests at my Pre-Med coaching center almost everyday, and the Boards were fast approaching. I wasn't doing too well on either count. The Boards I just didn't care about. But the worst part was that for my coaching, I knew I could have done extremely well. If only I had just had the inclination to.

My Pre Boards weren't too great, if I remember correctly. Just about decent. The practicals of course, were nothing but cheating and fraudies, especially when it came to Physics. I remember I had the simplest electricity experiment, something about simple diodes and p-n junctions, but me being me, I had no idea what to connect where and how to differentiate between the connections for the red and black wires. I had hurriedly written down the correct observations that I had memorized beforehand from a friend's file and disconnected the apparatus before the examiner came around to check. "Sir, I was in a hurry to move on to the next experiment," accompanied by an innocent face. Worked wonders.

Of course, close to full marks were guaranteed to almost all the students by our internal teachers as far as the practicals were concerned.

Then came the Boards. I went through them somehow and they didn't go as well as I would have wanted them to. But CBSE people are very lenient markers and I ended up with a percentage much higher than I was expecting (91), and though it wasn't a great one or anything, I was more than satisfied.

The entrance exam period seemed to stretch on forever. I was basically tied down until about the middle of June since for Pre-Med kids there are so many different tests to take. Not to mention the fact that I wasn't at all certain about what I wanted to do in life, all of 18 years old, so I took tests for 5 different fields. Most of them were decent but I got a breakthrough with NLUD. I saw the result around the middle of May and since that day I almost stopped studying, even though the subsequent Pre-Meds were supposed to be my main focus. But I was pretty happy with NLUD.

College has passed by in a whoosh. However much we moan about how much college sucks and how we have no freedom, I for one, am pretty happy where I am. Mainly because of the people. The people were the one reason I was completely against MBBS, and it's really paid off. It gives me supreme satisfaction when now at college I'm talking and people around me actually know and relate to whatever the hell it is I happen to be bullshitting about at that moment. All in all, it's been a great semester and I couldn't have asked for better.

So here's wishing goodbye to 2010. It definitely wasn't one of the best years of my life and I'm glad it's over, but it was probably the one that has brought on the most transition and change for me (yet), and I'm just happy that the change was a good one.

Scratch that. An awesome one.

P.S. Happy New Year everyone.

P.P.S. This one's for you, Nidhi Chikkerur. =D

Reading This Will Not Help You In Any Way

Sometimes I think love is a cheat.

Think about it. They meet, start dating, fall in love, get married. Seems simple enough at the surface. But what if we try and probe a little deeper?
The first date. I can't speak for guys, but I know girls will spend at least an hour obsessing over what to wear, how to do their hair, which shoes, and all that bullcrap. Especially if they think the guy's worth it. And during the date itself, they'll make an effort to be exactly the kind of person he wants so that they can be irresistible, or at least as close to that as is possible within the scope of one date. And I think this is true for the guys as well. In short, both of them will want to come off as the ideal girlfriend/boyfriend.

This will go on for many many dates. Once they're certain that the other is pretty close to falling in love with them, they'll let their true colors show, roaming around in sweatpants and a dirty tee, not bothering about the hair or make-up, and putting their characteristic faults and defects on display for the other to see. The world sees this as 'being comfortable with each other' and 'getting to know one another.' But is it really?

Let's see this from my perspective now. Once this side of their character comes out, the other person in the relationship is in so deep there's no way he can get out now. So he convinces himself that it's 'love.' And that love for another person encompasses love for their defects, their faults. That to love another is to love them as a whole, love the good stuff AND the bad stuff. I guess we can thank popular culture for that one.
And so the poor fool deludes himself into believing that he is falling in love with the other. Some more time later, and he is in too deep, so 'in love' with the other person that he won't end the relationship even if almost everything about the other person irks him to death.

Love has played a game on him. And now he's falling into the abyss.