Sometimes I wonder what I would look like in a world of alternative realities – an uncountable set of possible outcomes born of a tired mind looking for a refreshing change from the uneventful reality of mundane existence. I see people around - people I have known for donkey’s years, constantly walk paths that increasingly digress from my own and develop distinctly different identities - identities that entice, excite, invite and enchant. The mere fact that they look different from afar adds glamour to their reality and creates a desire within that constantly nags with the question – what if?
What if my undergrad was not as uneventful? What if I had found courage to propose to that girl? What if I knew how to swim, or had played tennis or spent time in the gym more often? What if I had travelled the world a bit more to savor the varied tastes of vast lands, infinite seas and ineffable cultures? What if I had experimented with hard rock and drugs and every other conceivable contraband substance for that matter during undergrad just to prove that I was on a glorious path to discovering self and thereby find acceptance with the hip-hop and happening? What if I had rode a bike to ladakh and scaled inconceivable mountain tops to showcase my love for unbridled adventure? What if I had mugged up every conceivable trivia in order to dazzle people around with my superior knowledge of the evolution of mankind? What if I hadn’t become and engineer and chosen to be a journalist instead? What if I had continued as a softie for the rest of my life? What if I had found eternal love in discovering and adopting virgin technologies and writing indecipherable chunks of computer code that did nothing more than churn out volumes of unidentifiable green symbols on a jet black screen to paint me as a super-geek?
But here I am, on the verge of starting out as an investment banker in the financial capital of the world – London. Caught in the web of these unending what ifs, I struggle to seek balance and make peace with my self today. What if I was to accept my condition now as is and begin to feel happy and content? Yes, that sounds right. Hackneyed? Maybe. True? Most certainly!!
August 05, 2007
Back! and the Front of It!!
Yes, I haven’t blogged for over a year now. No, I am not going to cook up a reason. Just state that I am back, for now, with a changed name, a different perspective, and lots of stories to tell – some personal, others not so much!
March 19, 2006
The Typology of Ordinariness
Continuing with the amnesia theme I touched upon in one of my earlier posts, I sometimes feel that there are either so many things that I didn’t know of earlier or so many things that I have come to realize only now. How it has come to be this way, I know not!!
Not so long ago, I was typing a report into my computer when I realized that I was not looking at the screen at all. I sat up amazed, and said, “Whoa! This is cool.”
The other day, this phenomenon reached its grand finale. What had started roughly 12 years ago with my typing on the computer for the first time, culminated in my being able to type by just looking at the screen and my fingers converting my stream of thoughts into appropriate array of words deftly and effortlessly. This surely was a wow moment.
The next couple of days, I spent bragging about my new-found talent. However, much to my chagrin, nobody around seemed visibly impressed. Apparently, this was no unique achievement. But that didn’t take away its uniqueness for me. I still felt on top of the world and wore a smile of satisfaction for a couple of more days.
Later I realized an interesting truth about life. Not that I hadn’t known it since the time I was a kid, but the context I found myself in, gave it a new meaning, or put more artistically, a new rendition.
The most ordinary things can acquire inexplicable extraordinariness in your otherwise uninteresting lives by virtue of they being borne out of circumstances that are unique to you, and vice-versa.
It is much like learning how to ride a bicycle, falling in love, experiencing parenthood, and savoring the joy of giving – all emotions experienced a gazillion times before by several different people. But the fact that they are happening to you, make them oh-so-special!!
It's like the world rediscovering itself over and over again, and the very process of this constant rediscovery making the ordinary seem truly extraordinary!!
Not so long ago, I was typing a report into my computer when I realized that I was not looking at the screen at all. I sat up amazed, and said, “Whoa! This is cool.”
The other day, this phenomenon reached its grand finale. What had started roughly 12 years ago with my typing on the computer for the first time, culminated in my being able to type by just looking at the screen and my fingers converting my stream of thoughts into appropriate array of words deftly and effortlessly. This surely was a wow moment.
The next couple of days, I spent bragging about my new-found talent. However, much to my chagrin, nobody around seemed visibly impressed. Apparently, this was no unique achievement. But that didn’t take away its uniqueness for me. I still felt on top of the world and wore a smile of satisfaction for a couple of more days.
Later I realized an interesting truth about life. Not that I hadn’t known it since the time I was a kid, but the context I found myself in, gave it a new meaning, or put more artistically, a new rendition.
The most ordinary things can acquire inexplicable extraordinariness in your otherwise uninteresting lives by virtue of they being borne out of circumstances that are unique to you, and vice-versa.
It is much like learning how to ride a bicycle, falling in love, experiencing parenthood, and savoring the joy of giving – all emotions experienced a gazillion times before by several different people. But the fact that they are happening to you, make them oh-so-special!!
It's like the world rediscovering itself over and over again, and the very process of this constant rediscovery making the ordinary seem truly extraordinary!!
January 14, 2006
Evil, Within and Without!!
What is evil? Or rather, I should ask, who is evil? Before we sit down to analyze snapshots from hell for evidence of evil and put them under the moral microscope to understand scientifically what constitutes hell, we need to understand the perspective that breeds and subsequently, defines evil through its relentless pursuit to put an end to its own phantasmagoric creation.
Well, if you ask people to define evil, they may come up with adjectives like greed, pride, power, money and even love. I am obviously not a believer in restricting the lot of evils to the seven cardinal sins, and am not willing to add onto the list either, even though I might accidentally have let some stray adjectives fall into the lot of the despicable evils. All I am saying is that there exists a difference of perspectives when it comes to the definition of evil. Evil for me might not be evil for someone else. And consequently, my hell will not be your hell. If this is so, then why this whole unfounded fuss about morality and what does it actually mean to say, “Go to hell!!”
What is the theory of the birth of evil, then? Well, honestly, there is not much theorizing involved here. Evil has existed since the birth of time and consciousness. What is more intriguing is to know when a man turns over to the other side and truly becomes evil. Let me tell you where I am coming from – I have just finished watching Lord of War and I was wondering when did Orlov actually become evil? My take, after he is disowned by his family. Or is it? Don’t we all remember the legendary Skywalker with an iota of goodness, if there is such a concept, still left in him that compels him to restore the balance of the force yet again?
Ok, let us complicate this further. Is it even to our advantage to deal with such absolutes? Can we not be just content with knowing that the person in question has, forever, blocked the nerve centers that lead to an unwanted repository of memories that reek of goodness? Well, here’s a thought. Maybe, just maybe, if we can decipher the process of turning evil, and track changes in neural pathways that lead to an eternally captured and impenetrably fortified alternate identity, we will be able to brand the condition as a disease and find a cure for it.
Scary, for the thought probably is the unearthing of a blueprint of the vicious life-cycle of evil.
Well, if you ask people to define evil, they may come up with adjectives like greed, pride, power, money and even love. I am obviously not a believer in restricting the lot of evils to the seven cardinal sins, and am not willing to add onto the list either, even though I might accidentally have let some stray adjectives fall into the lot of the despicable evils. All I am saying is that there exists a difference of perspectives when it comes to the definition of evil. Evil for me might not be evil for someone else. And consequently, my hell will not be your hell. If this is so, then why this whole unfounded fuss about morality and what does it actually mean to say, “Go to hell!!”
What is the theory of the birth of evil, then? Well, honestly, there is not much theorizing involved here. Evil has existed since the birth of time and consciousness. What is more intriguing is to know when a man turns over to the other side and truly becomes evil. Let me tell you where I am coming from – I have just finished watching Lord of War and I was wondering when did Orlov actually become evil? My take, after he is disowned by his family. Or is it? Don’t we all remember the legendary Skywalker with an iota of goodness, if there is such a concept, still left in him that compels him to restore the balance of the force yet again?
Ok, let us complicate this further. Is it even to our advantage to deal with such absolutes? Can we not be just content with knowing that the person in question has, forever, blocked the nerve centers that lead to an unwanted repository of memories that reek of goodness? Well, here’s a thought. Maybe, just maybe, if we can decipher the process of turning evil, and track changes in neural pathways that lead to an eternally captured and impenetrably fortified alternate identity, we will be able to brand the condition as a disease and find a cure for it.
Scary, for the thought probably is the unearthing of a blueprint of the vicious life-cycle of evil.
January 06, 2006
Clash of the Titans
Ok, the self-imposed ban on writing is over. It’s time to let the creative juices flow, yet again; time to pour, rather liberally, into the steady stream of life, my few drops, or shall I call them pearls, of wisdom!
I have occupied myself lately with watching movies at a rate that would put many a movie buffs to shame. If I may, I have watched not less than 50 movies in the past one month. And that is indeed saying much considering I am a veritable student in a certain Well-known Institute of Management in Western India that is known for its academic rigor. The objective, you ask. C’est très simple. Strike out movies from the list of Top 250 Movies of All-Time on IMDB as soon as possible and claim the status of the undisputable king of movie buffs at WIMWI. Sounds weird, doesn’t it? But it seems this is the best possible raison d’être I could possess to enliven my stay in an otherwise insanely competitive and radically absurd educational institute that is a consummate exemplification of the pretentious and boisterous big bad world of business out there. Hmm… so I am back to being my old cynical self. Bon!!
Lately, I have been occupied by a thought. Who is the greatest actor to have graced the screen ever? Is it Sir Lawrence Olivier or Marlon Brando? It is said of the comparison, “Mr. Brando formed characterizations within himself, but Olivier built them from bits and pieces of others he found outside.” Now, I don’t particularly understand the whole Method Acting debate and all that talk about the Konstantin Stanislavski System and its American derivative, the Lee Strasberg System. And quite frankly, I am the last person to answer the question that if Coppola had decided on Sir Lawrence instead of Mr. Brando, how the world would have known Don Corleone. It is like asking what would have happened if Nazi Germany had won the Battle of Stalingrad. Ok, the analogy sucked. But who cares!
All said and done, Brando rocked in On the Waterfront, The Godfather and Last Tango in Paris. He truly weaved magic into his characterizations on screen. I couldn't help but live the character by proxy - a perfect willing suspension of disbelief. Now I just need to lay my hands on some of Olivier’s classics and A Streetcar Named Desire by Elia Kazan to complete the picture of the debate. Wish me luck.
I have occupied myself lately with watching movies at a rate that would put many a movie buffs to shame. If I may, I have watched not less than 50 movies in the past one month. And that is indeed saying much considering I am a veritable student in a certain Well-known Institute of Management in Western India that is known for its academic rigor. The objective, you ask. C’est très simple. Strike out movies from the list of Top 250 Movies of All-Time on IMDB as soon as possible and claim the status of the undisputable king of movie buffs at WIMWI. Sounds weird, doesn’t it? But it seems this is the best possible raison d’être I could possess to enliven my stay in an otherwise insanely competitive and radically absurd educational institute that is a consummate exemplification of the pretentious and boisterous big bad world of business out there. Hmm… so I am back to being my old cynical self. Bon!!
Lately, I have been occupied by a thought. Who is the greatest actor to have graced the screen ever? Is it Sir Lawrence Olivier or Marlon Brando? It is said of the comparison, “Mr. Brando formed characterizations within himself, but Olivier built them from bits and pieces of others he found outside.” Now, I don’t particularly understand the whole Method Acting debate and all that talk about the Konstantin Stanislavski System and its American derivative, the Lee Strasberg System. And quite frankly, I am the last person to answer the question that if Coppola had decided on Sir Lawrence instead of Mr. Brando, how the world would have known Don Corleone. It is like asking what would have happened if Nazi Germany had won the Battle of Stalingrad. Ok, the analogy sucked. But who cares!
All said and done, Brando rocked in On the Waterfront, The Godfather and Last Tango in Paris. He truly weaved magic into his characterizations on screen. I couldn't help but live the character by proxy - a perfect willing suspension of disbelief. Now I just need to lay my hands on some of Olivier’s classics and A Streetcar Named Desire by Elia Kazan to complete the picture of the debate. Wish me luck.
October 10, 2005
The Balancing Act
It is interesting how your life can acquire perspectives overnight and transform the world around when you wake up the next day. It is equally interesting to know how you struggle to come to terms with the new reality that stares you in the face. It is like having lost familiar ground and entered un-chartered territory. It is like the desperate groping of a blind man who has suddenly walked into startling brightness of the naked sun.
When your mind is at peace and in equilibrium, it doesn’t feel the transitory disturbances for the strength comes from an inherent sense of balance. However, the inverse equilibrium state is one that borders on mayhem. The slightest nudge can make you go tumbling down the abyss of emotional turmoil. The struggle to hold on to the equilibrium even by a whisker is what gives rise to the feeling of being out of control. The effort is exhausting to say the least. Sanity is at stake.
The logic is simple – a stable equilibrium is concave whereby thoughts bend and the world transpires to support you, and help you regain lost balance; whereas, an unstable equilibrium is convex. You step out just a little bit, and you lose ground. And to top it, the world conspires to make you fall off. Or is it just paranoia?
When your mind is at peace and in equilibrium, it doesn’t feel the transitory disturbances for the strength comes from an inherent sense of balance. However, the inverse equilibrium state is one that borders on mayhem. The slightest nudge can make you go tumbling down the abyss of emotional turmoil. The struggle to hold on to the equilibrium even by a whisker is what gives rise to the feeling of being out of control. The effort is exhausting to say the least. Sanity is at stake.
The logic is simple – a stable equilibrium is concave whereby thoughts bend and the world transpires to support you, and help you regain lost balance; whereas, an unstable equilibrium is convex. You step out just a little bit, and you lose ground. And to top it, the world conspires to make you fall off. Or is it just paranoia?
October 09, 2005
Out of Control
Yes, I am a control freak. I cannot help but seek total control of myself at all times. I cannot stand the thought of externalities of this probabilistic world carrying out some absurd stochastic determinations on my glorified fate.
What is control, I ask. Is it politically incorrect with reference to an individual – I, me, and myself? If not, then why is there a stigma attached to control freaks like me? I only want to preserve the innermost sanctum sanctorum of my thoughts, desires, passions and motivations. Does this make me a closed individual, shut out from the outside world, hiding away the essence of my existence from prying eyes and poking noses all around? Does this make me incapable of loving and/or being loved, I wonder.
A larger and more pertinent issue is - does the willingness to control my inner self run the risk of spilling over into controlling external entities as well?
What is control, I ask. Is it politically incorrect with reference to an individual – I, me, and myself? If not, then why is there a stigma attached to control freaks like me? I only want to preserve the innermost sanctum sanctorum of my thoughts, desires, passions and motivations. Does this make me a closed individual, shut out from the outside world, hiding away the essence of my existence from prying eyes and poking noses all around? Does this make me incapable of loving and/or being loved, I wonder.
A larger and more pertinent issue is - does the willingness to control my inner self run the risk of spilling over into controlling external entities as well?
July 08, 2005
An appellation? No, a sobriquet!!
…for I am the singularity of orgasmic pleasure; the point of no return of carnal desire; the apex of sexual catharsis; the forbidden fruit of animal virtuosity; the metaphor of ethereal fantasies; the enigma of youthful bliss… for I am the G-Spot!!
For the uninitiated, this is my Dorm Name @ WIMWI. Now, go figure!!
PS: 20 Years down the line, I might be quoted in WIMWI classrooms as ‘G-Spot’ Kansal, just as MS Banga is quoted today as, ‘Windy’ Banga. Interesting proposition, this!!
For the uninitiated, this is my Dorm Name @ WIMWI. Now, go figure!!
PS: 20 Years down the line, I might be quoted in WIMWI classrooms as ‘G-Spot’ Kansal, just as MS Banga is quoted today as, ‘Windy’ Banga. Interesting proposition, this!!
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