Thursday, September 30, 2004

The Man Who Lived

I was sitting at the coffee shop the other day when I realized that I enjoy talking to people a lot. They have myriad things to teach you. It’s all about the human experience. The way they think, the perspectives from which they view things and even the sorts of music that they like or the magazines they read, all these things offer a chance to learn. All these attributes of the men and women I meet coupled with the so called “flaws” are what make them truly interesting.

The best part about people is that even though they’re so different, they co-exist, they have a common ground, a plateau on which they can communicate with their fellow humans. This art of communication is what totally intrigues me. All of us have experienced that moment when you make direct eye contact with another person and you just “know” what he’s thinking. This sort of or rather level of communication that two humans share is something that even the most analytical branches of science can’t justify or comprehend.

The universal language of a laugh, a tear, a frown or a nod. The way you somehow convey to a vegetable vendor in Beijing that you would like some carrots at a particular rate even though you’re bloody lost in the market, the way you tell the woman you love that she’s the one that lights up your day and adds color to your world just by a gentle caress and a deep look into her eyes, the way you tell your son that your proud of him just by giving him that look with you chin high. All these gestures are so innately human, so exquisite that they are in essence what add that delicate and intricate touch to the beautiful trip that is our mortal lives.

I had a great tendency to be an individualist. A stand alone rebel, a man who kept saying, one man is enough to change the world and the others are completely irrelevant. But over the course of time I’ve matured enough to admit a couple of things… other people matter. Why? Simply because they exist. Yes, a man, one man and his will can change the whole world; he can work miracles, build industries and create marvels in art or music. But life isn’t complete without other people. Be it the love of a woman, the protectiveness of a father, the nurturing sentiment of a mother or even the respect of a fellow producer, a brother in arms so to speak. All these emotions, these gestures of love, respect and brotherhood are what truly convey to us why we are social animals.

I agree with Ayn Rand when she said “I swear by my life and my love for it, that I shall never live for the sake of another man nor ask another man to live for the sake of mine.”
But most people have a great tendency to misinterpret this line as something where you completely alienate yourself from society in general and become some crazed ego-maniac who thinks others are immaterial.

I am a man. I love my life, and I live it for no one else. I have an aim, a purpose, and a direction. I wish to be able to afford the price of admission to heaven… my heaven. The heaven where the corridors are lined with the great men that I admired, a hall of fame of victory and of triumph. A place where all the men of ability, logic and reason reside and my heaven to walk amongst these men, these creators of life and beauty and get a pat on the back from them. I want to hear the words “well done sahil” at the end of it. From the men I respect and no one else and then I wish to take my place among those corridors and await then next generation… the men of the mind. My dream is to be respected by those I respect. My dream to earn the earth, live my life and own both. My aim is to prove that the goal of existence on this beautiful planet is happiness itself.

Here on earth, I live for my work, my principles, my love, myself. My life will be a beacon, a light, not to be misinterpreted as some fanatical individualist propaganda, but to be seen as a man, in the real sense of the word. Not some parasite who bought and lived on the ideas, thoughts, labors of others and not as an elitist who ignored the existence of a world around him and fellow men fighting with him, but as someone who knew what the real relationship between two true humans must be like, who knew where the threshold for one human being began and where it ended and how it demarcated an individual from a brother in arms.

In my heaven I have stated the essence of how an army is built by a soldier, an economy by an industrialist and a hall of fame by a man. I don’t want to say that one man alone is the end, for he wants approval, he wants appreciation, he wants a sense of belonging, but all this only with the people he has the respect for. I’m certainly not promoting any sort of collectivism here… every man is an isle but the ocean is dotted with them.

Saturday, September 11, 2004

Confessions Of A Dangerous Mind

This is one really honest piece i wrote when i was studying for the JEE. the context in which was written was one of great uncertainty, vascillating between too many doubts and a future that was very unclear. NITK was a time when i didn't know where i was going and was fighting too many battles at once, trying to do decently in a new college, study for jee and manage relationships that i probably wasnt mature enough to handle. but there always was this small sense of hope in me.. it's a beautiful thought in retrospect that some part of me (even if it was the over confident side) didnt give up.. i held on.. it was worth it!:D here's the piece people.

"And then I collapsed with a dull thud, like that when someone dies without knowing, without meaning, but at the same time without protest and without thought. Shallow breaths, taken not in panic, but out of a state of exhaustion, out of lazy disgust for the state of things around me and within me, my eyelids droop out of too much sleep out of a feeling of redundance so repulsive that my release would be the gift of nothing.

The feeling of drowning in quicksand engulfs me. Slowly, deliberately like the fingers of a paralysis that I never really had. But the horror lies not in the fear of being paralyzed but in the dull knowledge that the quicksand that’s eating me, my thoughts, my happiness (if I ever knew it), is not that of the beautiful nothing that I desire, but that of senseless chaos that seems to seep through every pore of my skin. I want to feel panic... I cant, I want to feel pain.... I cant, I want to feel nothing.... I cant! I cant because of the muffled paralyzing feeling bordering on the claustrophobic.

Why doesn’t it just cross over to full-fledged claustrophobia? It would be so much easier then! So much easier to feel nothing, so much easier to detach myself from it all and laugh, like a child, carelessly like I haven’t laughed in years. I would smile in peace knowing the pain would be complete then. Because completion comes finality, a terminus I so desire, an escape. An escape that I want, not desperately, not with a sense of panic and urgency.

All these adjectives would detract from the sanctity of release, but a completion i desire with a sense of slow conviction, a patience that I thought would wilt but to my delight only seems to grow stranger only in silent opposition to the insecure side of me. that my release will come, it doesn’t matter when it comes…it only matters that it will!"

Monday, September 06, 2004


This one's really, really cryptic. Personal thoughts, I guess.

There are friends... and there're Calvin and Hobbes. If you get it, good. If you don't, better. :)

They call me Phoenix.

To quote from Varun's blog:

"We may be through with the past, but the past is never through with us"

Sunday, September 05, 2004

Down The Rabbit Hole

The tunnel has ended… the running hasn’t stopped. Its kind of strange it almost feels like the inertia is too great… but then again I guess there always is a purpose and once you realize that you have to run to get there, you never slow down… but then I ask, what happens when a man is tired, when he wants a break, when he’s weak?

Why does being worn out have to debilitate you completely? In a way, I guess it’s fair. Logic and reality don’t allow for any sort of vulnerability, but on the other hand, everybody’s allowed a break right? The frustrating thing though is that people start thinking of a break as times when you have nothing to do. I consider this line of thought profane, for I have felt such moments and all you feel is this horrible emptiness, this void that seems to eat away at your thoughts and your ability like nothing else…

A break should and does imply something that relaxes your mind and body…doesn’t leave it idle but rejuvenates it, prepares it for another round of battle. Reality is harsh at times and escaping from it isn’t necessarily running away from reality but probably looking at it from a new perspective and finding time to gather your thoughts, ability and self into a refocused beam…I’m probably being very clichéd here but that’s rather irrelevant. The most clichéd of statements aren’t always the most obvious. Its only when they hit you real hard that you realize why people have been saying them all this time.

“Run, rabbit, run…
Dig that hole,
Forget the sun…
And when at last the work is done
Don’t stop… its time to dig another one”
- Pink Floyd

Friday, September 03, 2004


Hello people...
i realise its been quite a while since i've posted anything. but i guess this poem will pretty much encapsulate my thoughts for now. inspired by floyd and written at two in the morning, this probably has a very different flavour from the rest of my work.. guess i was scared of showing my fears in my literature, but its about time i showed that every human (even an over-confident nimrod like me) has an achilles heel. this ones called autumn and its dedicated to someone who showed me not to be afraid to feel.. she knows i'm talking about her. angel thanks.

Thoughts constricted, chest drawn,
Mind numb, happiness gone,
You thought you were headed for the green grass
But the raw deal you got is a senseless mass.

Run, little one, run
Crawl into bed
Doesn't matter that there are things left to be done..

Reality, preception and belief,
Things that were important..
But you've turned over a new leaf..
You've turned over a new leaf..

What an irony that the leaf is new!
The effect is the same,
The suffocation still reaches your nerve and sinew.

You thought you'd reached home..
But the grotesque jokes continue;
Life's about irony,
Something you thought you knew!

Escape seems impossible,
What do you escape from?

Reality, perception and belief,
Things that were important,
But you've turned over a new leaf..
You've turned over a new leaf..

The tunnel has ended,
But there is no light.
You walk into the darkness
And there aint no moon in sight.

Life's a bitch
And she's got an affinity for mirth;
You don't get her jokes,
The greatest one probably was your birth.

You've turned over a new leaf..
Yeah, you've turned over a new leaf..
Things are still left undone,
But guess what? Autumn's come...

- Kini

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