knots.

Sometimes you just have that feeling. The weird feeling in your stomach. It's not the sinking feeling and it's not just knots of nervousness or excitement. It's a mix of the two. Maybe it's a new feeling all together, one that I still haven't been able to label.
I have it right now.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Nothing. It's still there.

The weirdest part is, that there is no reason for it.
Okay, that's a lie.
There are more than one reasons for it, but I won't list them all. Mainly because those people whom it concerns read the blog too (at least I hope they do).

Some of the reasons:
My friends aren't here. They'll be back in a few days. Some of them are here but they're busy with something or the other.
I found out last night that I got 1 on 60 in a test. That's 20 less than the average and that's 20 less than what I thought I'd get.
I've just come back to Pilani after a week long stay at home. Home, is something playing on my mind.
Yesterday I got nostalgic and had a long over due heart to heart with old friends. That's playing on my mind too.
There is another reason which I'm not going to talk about.

There are so many reasons. Yet, I'm not convinced that any one of them could cause physical symptoms. But then all of them together causing my stomach to curl makes no sense either. All of them are independent incidents that bear no correlation with one another at all. And none of them create any chaos in my life at all (well other than the 1/60 which holds the potential to wreck my future and see me selling sperm to earn some money, which also wouldn't get me a lot of money as no one would want a kid with a potato for a nose and a brain that gets ones on 60; you get the point).

Let's try drawing analogies here.
Imagine a kid who got a report card that has an F, expects to get back his favourite comic (read Playboy) tomorrow, expects his friends to come and have a party tomorrow, has an exam day after, and his younger brother just told him that he was adopted. Imagine the kid's state of mind. He's going to be a drug dealer. You can see it, can't you?

Let's try another one.
Imagine a teenage girl. Now now, don't get carried away. Imagine the clothes too. Now now, the clothes should be on her and not on the floor. Better.
So imagine a teenage girl WITH her clothes on. She was told her jaw line is too strong, she expects to get a new designer bag tomorrow, has been invited to a cooler set of people's party tomorrow, has her beauty pageant try outs day after, and her mom just told her that she'll bloom only at 19 cause that's how it runs in the family (Guys, I really spoiled her for you now, didn't I?)

Anyhow, I guess you have an idea. There are things to look forward to, there are things to dread and there is a lot to be done to not have to dread those things you have assumed you will have to dread anyway.

There is the fear of rejection, of failure, of the unknown. There is the happiness of... well happiness. And there is the general anxiety cause you think too much.

I guess it's just hormones. Oh wait, I'm not a girl... I guess it's just the shit that fucks things up in the bitch that's life. Oh wait, I'm not 15 any more either. Damn!

I guess it's just a lot of nothings given too much importance cause nothing really happens around me.

Yeah, I guess that's it.

The knots are still there by the way. But I must stop my ramblings cause I have to bathe, shave, clean my room, study, watch a movie, study some more and...


stop writing.

we got played.

What I have come to learn with my little experience of the world which is actually, 'my entire lifetime', is that 'the future' is just a big marketing strategy. It's a ploy to make us work.

When we were tiny little kids, we were told to study so that we can get a toffee or so that we can go out to play. So we studied that day so that we may wonder, "Melody itni chocolaty kyun hai?" and life was good.

When we grew a little older, we were told to study so that we may do well in our exams. If we did well in our exams we would get a new bicycle. So we studied the whole year and some of us actually got a new bicycle. Those who didn't knew that even though they didn't the bike, they couldn't let their grades fall, cause if that happened, some privilege would be taken away, and we continued to study. Then one day, when your bike was too small for you, you got a new bigger cycle and were told that this was the cycle you were promised, and even though it was a couple of years late, you were more than happy to accept it.

In senior secondary school, you were told that if you study, you'd get into a good college and some new liberties would be given to you. But by then we had learnt that all these 'rewards' that we had been getting for studying were bound to come our way as life went on and were not things you had earned by studying.

So, some of us chose to study, while some didn't. The case is the same in college.

How was a future a marketing ploy then?

What people in marketing do is that they launch a product with an irresistible offer like buy one get three free or something of that sort. In our cases, the toffee.

We use their product a few times thanks to their scheme, by then we get used to the product, or we reject it. But no kid can reject a toffee, so we get used to it.

What the marketing people do next is that they gradually withdraw the offer and offer schemes just like their competitors, but they now have some of the market captured. In our cases, the toffee was given as an incentive only on those days where we absolutely refused to study, on most days we would cause we had realized that other than being boring, studying wasn't really that bad.

The main principle behind marketing is to convince people that they would be happy to have a certain product. They might not need it, all you have to do is make them believe they would be happy to possess it. Everyone needs to be happy, so the customer believes that he needs the product. The money he has to spend for it is the only consideration. In our cases, it was time and in some cases popularity in social groups that would have to be sacrificed to study and excel in academics. There was something else - joy.

Some of us got fooled (myself included), that if we keep spending our time and energy into studying, we would get some product that would make us very happy. Unlike buying a product, in which case the product is delivered to you in your hands and you feel satisfaction or joy immediately, our product never quiet gets delivered.

We have worked to get into whatever college we are in, looking to be happy. We are now working to land a job, hoping that it will lead to joy.

We will work hard in our jobs hoping for more money, which would bring happiness.

We would continue to work and work and work till we get that happiness.

One day, we will die hoping to find it in heaven.

What I have come to realize is that now I know the marketing strategy. I am not going to invest forever, waiting for a product that will never be delivered. I will just invest enough to get a decent house, a decent car, a decent wife and enough money to raise a decent family. Other than that, I will do things which bring me joy right now cause there is no bank account that is keeping track of the amount of happiness you deserve. There is just one in your head that keeps track of how much you have received. And I'm gonna make sure that the counter on that account is always ticking.


NOTE: This post started out as a comment to my friend's post (Dreams. Future; near and far) but became a full fledged post.

judgement.

Judgement: The final conclusion in the court of law after examining all available evidence and considering all testimony.

Testimony: A form of evidence that is obtained from a witness who makes a solemn statement or declaration of fact.

Fact: Verified information about past or present circumstances or events which are presented as objective reality.

Circumstance: The existing conditions or state of affairs surrounding and affecting an event.

The problem with all these terms, as you may have noticed, is that they are used in each others' definitions. That means all of them are inter-related. And this also means that if you mess with one of them, you mess with them all. Mess with circumstances and the error finds its way to the top.

Sometimes in life, you can't give the complete testimony to the jury to clear your own name. Because that testimony would require the details of the circumstances around you at the time in question, so you mess with the facts. You don't fuck them over entirely, you just condense them to protect someone (not yourself, but someone). In doing so, you add your perspective and that changes objective reality into perceived reality and that changes judgement.

And when your friends start judging you after the chain of events just explained, things start to go wrong in your head.

It is especially tragic when you live your life on the very simple principle of "I don't give a fuck about what he thinks, cause he doesn't know me."
When the people who you do know, and who know you start judging you, some shit goes down.
You start to wonder whether you are what you think you are, or if you're just trying to fool yourself, as you have fooled the others, into believing you are a genuine kid.

And hey, what if you've actually changed? Consider that. What if you are losing your innocence over time and are actually becoming a shrewd, thick skinned, UP gunda-type motherfucker who knows only three emotions: greed, anger and lust.
You always thought you had it in you. It was just a matter of how well you could suppress it. What if you can't anymore? What if that beast is out and on the prowl for new prey. What then? What do you do? It's not like you can hit Ctrl+Z and everything goes back to normal. I guess you write about it on a blog that you maintain to make yourself feel important and which you use like your very public confessional box.

Maybe what you do is forget about it. Maybe you just become what you always knew was the best way to be; you become comfortably numb.

cowboys, space.

Yesterday I was watching Brokeback Mountain. It's one of those movies you keep for a time when you can watch it all at once, without any interruptions. Sadly, all the movies I watch are of that kind, hence I haven't been able to watch as many as I'd like.
Anyway, I was watching the movie. You know, the one with the gay cowboys, yeah, that one. And what caught my attention, other than the gay cowboys, was the skyline and the tranquility of the place where all the 'action' took place (the silence being broken occasionally by the squeals of the cowboy on all fours. This role was being played alternatively by the 'corrupted' Prince of Persia and a coke snorting, face painting clown).
Watching the movie, I felt a lump rising in my throat, (one reason was that the most masculine form of man, the cowboy, was going at it with another cowboy. A cowboy for Pete's sake!), the hustle bustle of everyday life had left too many emotions to dead with in a hostel room, I wanted some isolation. Some peace. A river, mountains around me, not a soul in sight. I want that.
I'm one of those people who needs his own space from time to time. If I don't get that space for a year, I would crack. In spite of all the space they had, I wonder at made those cowboys need someone's crack.
They both had hot wives, the Prince of Persia obviously had the hotter, sluttier wife, while Mr. I Snort Too Much Coke had a nice country girl in a small room. The problem was that they got these wives of theirs after their workouts on the mountain. I guess we all need some practice before we can do it right. Maybe the cowboys were just trying to get some practice. Yeah, it's that for sure. Cowboys aren't gay, are they mommy?
This is too much for me to process, I need some space. Some air. Funny I can't find anywhere to go in a bloody dessert.
Whatever it is, cowboys aren't gay. If they are, the only symbol of manliness had been corrupted. At least I have Toy Story. Oh wait,Woody's a cowboy and Buzz Lightyear is a... what did they call him? Astronaut - na, space warrior -na, space hero - na, I guess it was... space-cowboy.

No.

Nooo!

the good boy.

Outsiders' inside:
The good boy. The mama's boy. The boy who does things right. The nice guy. The decent fellow, who was raised right. The apple of the eye.

Insider's inside:
A compulsion. A need to do right. The need to be the light in someone's dawn; to be the cotton candy in a fair on fire; to be the meth in a junkie's drawer; to be the right in all that wrong.

Outsiders' need:

Something to look at and feel hopeful. Someone to talk to and feel nice. Something to remind them of morality and make them think it's okay to be bad, there is some good in the world to take care of the rest.

Insider's need:

To do wrong. To be mean. To be an ass-hole. To be the motherfucking jackass he tries to despise. To be the one who doesn't give a shit about anything. The guy who wants to bang a redhead and go break something in the parking lot.

Outsiders' and insider's reality:
I'm working on it.

closure.

This is not another emo post on emotional closure... in a way it is.
This blog existed mainly for catharsis. The lack of complete mind fuck has led to a state where I can not be creative. No sarcasm, no angst and no humour.

Hence, I declare this blog temporarily closed.

I am out of topics to write about. I ask you (those of you who manage to wander onto this page after so long) to give me topics you would like to read my thoughts on. Leave them as comments and elaborate a little just to let me know if you think about it in a positive or negative sense.

I promise I will write about a few of them by the end of next week.

In case no one reads this, it was fun trying to blog.

That's all folks.

Adulthood.

I’m up on my water tank again (I wonder what gives me the right to use the possessive pronoun here. I don’t care. I still call it my water tank.) I've been up here whenever I’ve been low. Okay, not every time I’ve been low, but every time I've was low and no bored hot girl was online, willing to chat. This has been going on for three years. College made it a long distance relationship but it’s still strong. Also not when I’m low and it’s raining, other than that one time when I was so low that in spite of the rain I was up here. It was an error in judgment of course. Given the fact that I was so low, I could have drowned in the rain. Bad joke. I agree. I don’t joke well when I’m low. Actually I’m on the top of a water tank on the terrace of my apartment building, that’s pretty high. So I’m pretty high. Hope mom doesn't find out.

See, I told you I don’t joke well when I’m emotionally low.

Enough of the nervous, vulnerable blabbering, lets talk some sense here.
I named this post adulthood. I turned 18 320 days back. In another 45 days I’ll be 19. Finally I’ve figured out what being an adult is all about.

So here's the secret.

You remember how we used to dream when we were kids.
Till the age of 3 heaven knows what we dreamt of.
3-7 we dreamt of flying into a land of infinite candy floss and a huge sofa we can jump on all we want.
8-14 we dreamt of becoming pilots or sailors.
15-18 we dreamt of an awesome college and an awesomely hot girlfriend. We thought we'd learn how to play the guitar. We all though that we could somehow, suddenly become cool; that out of no where, we would be able to address public gatherings with confidence and grace. Basically we thought we would drip awesomeness.

Well, that didn't happen, did it?
Did you notice the difference in the way we dreamt as we grew older? The dreams become less outlandish. To put it in another way, more possible, more realistic. We forgot what dreams meant, we started setting goals. Gradually, goals that were difficult to achieve become our dreams. And we all know dreams don't come true. So we lost that one thing that keeps us going. No, I'm not talking about hope, I'm talking about ambition. We lost our ambition.

Sounds cynical? It's not. Think about it. The dreams we dreamt could be achieved with some work. Well most of them could. And it wasn't as if our goals occupied our minds so much that they became our dreams, no. The dreams we dreamt seemed so realistic that we thought they were our goals. But when things didn't work out the way you dreamt they would, you weren't that disappointed, were you?

Now, sometimes, we exaggerate our goals a little and dream of them.

Do you see what's happening here? You are growing up. We've progressed to or deteriorated into what is called 'adulthood'. Some might say you are becoming cynical or becoming a pessimist. What I'm saying is that you are learning to protect yourself.

We've all had our share of bad experiences. Some have seen worse than the others, but at this age, we'll all seen that life isn't fair.

"Life isn't fair, deal with it."

And that's what we are doing. The lack of ambition, the fear of change, the fear of commitment, the fear of being open, the fear of sharing, the fear of failure, all of these are an attempt made by us to save ourselves from what life mostly gives you: a rough deal.

We've worked hard, been a good person and done the right thing hoping for something good. And many a times all we get is a big pile shit, right between the eyes. Graphic? Deal with it.

You get pissed off when your old man says things that make you think to yourself, "Those were the days of Bhagat Singh! Grow up old man." That last statement seems ironic, eh? What you don't realize there is that he has grown up. He's learnt that if you do this, this might happen and make you feel this way but if you don't do this, this will never happen and you'll never feel that way again.

Which is better? To touch fire each time it looks funky red, get a blister and deal with it OR to not touch it and grow up?

I'm growing up. If that means I become less fun to be with, or too mature to hang out with people of my age, or become the oh-I-can-tell-him-about-the-guy-I-like-cause-he-is-way-too-serious-anyway guy, so be it. (Actually I do mind the last one a little.)

The point is, start being cynical. Start being pessimistic. Start being perennially pissed off. Start thinking that everyone around you is only trying to use you. Start thinking only money.

Stop being yourself. Start being (How should I put this mildly? Hmm... Fuck it..) an adult.

NOTE: I have stuck to my trademark melodramatic style. I like it.
NOTE: I didn't feel like writing this after the first three lines casue I didn't think it would be ay good. But today I found out that the laptop is being taken away from me for a week, so just to keep the blog active. It hasn't been updated in a long time. Sorry folks.