postcards carry a lot with them . love, wishes, desire, thoughts, anger, frustration, hope, excitement, separation and the breeze from a distant land touching our lives in a very personal way. 

i am sorry . do i sound from the jane austen era. actually this one has carried it for a pretty long time. so i am shifting the writings into an envelope posted on

http://lifaafein.wordpress.com/ 

 

take care !

 

the last time it rained, i had got up in the middle of the night to get drenched and feel the drops on my face. there are two things that can bring that smile that I had on my face - ‘adrak ki chai’ mummy’s special or ’baarish ki boondein’ and the combo is definitely set for a super hit. its not raining and at 2 in the night i can only dream about tomorrow’s morning tea. the truth of the matter is i do not have much to talk about these days. i feel people ( which actually might be an escapist replacement for ‘me’ ) are running out of thoughts to talk about, they are running out of words to express and seriously speaking they are running out of ideas. Life from my edge of the world seems to need a change and make over. friends and the times gone seem to come back to me on background screen of my mind, time and again. yet i am not fretting about the idea of leaving behind seemingly the best days of my life. now you would ask who does that? its kind of tough to explain. i would have expected myself to react in a different way. a little more excited for the future or sad to leave behind the past. but i seem to have outgrown my childishness. and that combined with my untimely silences have made me frightened about getting close to a stage in life i do not really want to enter. i am simply afraid i might just outgrow myself.and that too untimely.

1:10 a.m by my lappy clock – I feel drowsy at the mention of the time, and then congratulate myself for being up so late and not having done anything I planned for today – the BTP work, Hucca assignment or the viva voce preparation. So just when my eyes were about to drop shut, they fell on my hand watch and saw that after all it was not so late – 10:45 p.m actually and I could not afford to miss the time I thought I had lost, however, which by some miracle was given back to me. Time is not unidirectional, you see.

I have been getting ideas in my head, after taking Sanil’s course that, time is a matrix which works like a spongy pie interwoven with itself and the other three dimensions. Look, if time does not stay and flows along – that is it lives in the smallest unit of time – or to put it simply time exists as a fraction of itself lets say iota time – then iota time has to flow with the other 3 dimensions at that particular iota of time. This would mean that the actions at that particular iota of time vanishes just as it passes. So all the events and experiences in that iota of time have nothing (no fabric of time) to cling to and they vanish with that iota. However, if time happens to be a string of iota or a thread which is woven back and forth or is simply laid out straight in the enormity of the universe – then the happenings of a particular iota of time, my writing this piece, your movement of eyes while reading this sentence or the song i am listening to (fuzon – teray bina ) actually cling to those iota of time and get ingrained in them. Then arises the meaning of past. And it is in this case that past would be the only truth, as it would be the only thing which would have an existence for sure. It would be easier to explain the feelings of ‘deja vu’ and the likes in this case. And also to justify the illogical ending of ‘Kate and Leopold’. I, absolutely, loved the movie, anyways( ya, it was yet again because of Hugh Jackman ) However, if we assume the preceding case to be true  – i.e ‘of time not staying’ – then the present is the only truth  – as there is no physical existence of the past. However, I do not pass any judgements. Both situations do not horrify me . I live in the present at every time – actually i am doomed to, and often give a smile to the past when it waves at me.

Anyhow ! Like right now what I am doing is waving to my present . I have to work . Its already 15 past 11. Catch you a little later.

Btw does anyone know how to use Google reader. At times nothing appears.At others,suddenly, my previous blog entries appear into the list. Anyways, I think I’ll figure it out by the end of this night.

 15 minutes to 12 – this is the fourth time I am starting ‘ rear window’ (1954) . I hope I am able to finish it this time.. anyhow ! 

2:15 a.m – yeppppieeeeeeeeeee !!! I am almost an hour through it. Its a nice movie. But I seem to have exhausted all my energy of watching and criticizing movies and ‘being criticized’ through out the sem that I somehow do not seem to cross the border line. I just woke up , after having dozed off in between. whatever ! I seem to be utilizing more time blogging than concentrating on my work . But that has been the way it is. Many of my favourite times on this campus have been the times I have been hooked on to writing about stuff that nobody, in most probability, cares about.

Somehow the ink of the pen seems to be running out. There is just one more thing in my life, which I want to fall in place. That would make a little more sense of my life . Wish me luck !

 3:00 a.m – The works I started with to begin with this post still remain. I am tempted to name this post ‘ an understanding into the working of procrastination’. But, I would rather, procrastinate. :)

Sweet dreams !

0 or 1

I forbid you to digitalize me into the good or the bad, the truth or the lie, the child or the experienced thinker, the angel or the evil, the unknown or the explored, the respected or the ridiculed. for, the colors mock your senses when you recognize only the seven of them in the spectrum. so do I .

sondhi si khusbhu is pal ki

mere saath potli mai hai tune baandh di 

kuch nimbu si khatti ladaai

kuch gudd ki si hai tere bolo ki mithai

is rumaali roti mai teri baaton ki narmaaye

pyaaz se aayi yaad un aakhon ki rulaaye

is pal ki khusbhu se, bas itni guzaarish hai meri

keval in lamho hi ki to milkiyat hai

kabhi khamoshi ho, to khilkhilaate hue hotho pe aa jaaye

 

 

  

 

” If desire leads to desiring a person for what he is not, I would rather be abhorred than be adored. “

 

On specs, poltu, crushes and bollywood

Specs compliment the personality of some people. I mean people just look perfect with them on. I personally like this hero (whose name i seem to have forgotten ), but is the one who sings songs(one after another – in different movies, of-course)  in fast moving traffic and pulsating lights in background , and this sweet hero has to stand right in the middle of the traffic.(i think he should include an insurance policy in his contract with his director – in case one of the cars runs over …)  now, i have never had the talent of remembering names, quite often i forget the names of my crushes (many of whom, have had a campus absence of a few years ), but, this man looks very cute + smart (a typical combo of the guys of his type ) in specs.

I do not claim the adjectives that this hero and one of my seniors share , people don’t seem to care to check if specs look good on one of the flock {i.e , me } , (i live on with a singular distinguished memory of a class mate who cared to complement me on my new frame [thank you ] ). But all i demand is the basic right to normal human vision. I lost my specs last night. I do not seem to remember where or how. I also seem to have a faint feeling that I saw them in my dreams drifting away . My logic today, however, reasoned that it might be an act of vengeance by the opposite alliance. People, I declare here and hence, everything I have said or done in the past few days or few hours (or few years ) , nothing was ever meant to be personal ,it was all political. So please do not get offended by anything that you might have taken an offence to. But for God sake, I beg you to follow the same principle. Please sent me back my specs . Though they were a bit distorted in their form, I loved the comfortable feel of them sitting on my nose. They seem to better know the structure and shape of it . And waise bhi , I got them repaired abhi abhi, (that too for free ). Since then, I liked them even more. Lenses are a different genre . They seem to get close too quickly [eye contact ,bhai ]   but specs serve your vision from a distance. I like both of them , but, as i have now lost my specs and the reasons i started with (my crushes in bollywood and iitwood ) i love them more .(atleast for the time being)

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Breaking News !!!!!!

My friend has just informed me, that while i was quenching my addiction of ‘apprentice‘ on her lappy, last night, i seemed to have sandwiched my specs just like an aaloo tikki in between . it really is a ‘breaking’ news. redemption, i owe to this world, for all my sins – political and personal.

P.S - notice the changes that a movie like RACE can generate in a person who had made up her mind not to write for a loooong time . Cheers Bollywood ! Sometimes you make more- much more sense to me with all your nonsense.(Specially if you have managed to nail the last moments of the movie Death in Venice on the same day -i must warn you, it in normal circumstances needs a week to be completed )

and it feels good to be back !