Tuesday, December 30, 2008
They come, they go, you remember so liittle...
For the longest time ever, I was so mad at myself because I would have these heart to hearts with people and we'd both spill our life's worth of secrets (more or less) and it would SUCK coz they would remember and I never could... but finally I realized that it didn't really matter... coz even though I may not remember what exactly they said, what I thought of them would strengthen or change in those conversations and.. well, screw the details, I'd remember how I felt... and what they now meant to me... and I'm finally okay with that.
See? Things change... A year ago... I was a child who couldn't get to class unless she had two shots of rum... Moved on to not being able to stand class till I had a smoke... and now, class is only bearable if I've had some green. I dunno, is this progression or degradation?
See... This is exactly why I should not post when I'm high... But it doesn't really matter, does it? I dunno. I guess tomorrow will tell...
Tonight was Jam Night. And it was AWESOME! So much fun... I played the drums. Randomly. Don't know what the heck I was doing! But it was cool! Must learn... If not the guitar, at least the drums. It's a completely different high dude. Couldn't explain even if I could... if you know what I mean... lol... I sure don't!
So here's to another night of completely random fun. ^_^ When you can laugh even though you're probably losing the frikking year!... you know life isn't all that bad...
Umm... anyhow... spoke to dad about The Pilot... and finally realized in the middle of the awkward explanation offered... You keep things from me to protect me, and I do the same... Have no locus anymore dear dad, so chill... Won't ever bother you about the same...
Sunday, December 28, 2008
My memories of him are like little video clips. A few instances that always show up in my head like a google search results page if someone is to say his name...
When we first met, The Pilot was a cocky little boy of 8. He was a year below me in school, but we never met there. I knew him because his dad and mine were part of the same unit and we lived in the same building. We spent every squadron party the same way - convincing our parents to unlock the airplanes so that we could sit inside and then pretend we were out saving the world.
The Pilot knew the ranking system followed by the Navy, Army and Airforce. He was a sharp kid and we'd fight at least once in every single one of those 'parties'. Usually it was over who would be the Pilot and who would be the co-pilot.
I remember this once, we were at the Club and we got into a pretty bad fight. I say pretty bad coz he threw up at the end of it and I was in serious trouble. This other time he and another friend of ours chased me up the stairs with cricket wickets and we all beat each other up quite well. Yep, we were violent 9 year olds. But he was the first person who ever told me I'd "earned" his respect (And of course expected me to be honored).
We lost touch like Naval children always do. Safe in the knowledge that you always meet again. Inevitably. I never did send him a mail, though he did - and does - pop up in memories as people always do when they were from a happier time. I never even looked for him on facebook...
It bothers me that someone who I once knew so well moved away, grew up and died without me even knowing what his favorite band was or whether or not he believed in God.
I can't help it. The videos won't stop. I remember this other time, we were at some fancey hotel for some farewell party. Us kids locked ourselves in the huge bathroom and rolled up tissue paper, dipped them in freezing water and chucked them at each other from opposite sides of the room, pretending we were at war. More trouble. And the two of us were always in the most trouble because we were the oldest. Ah, the number of "setting an example" lectures we've heard is unbelievable. (The same party, to get back at him for something, I poured vinegar and chilli sauces in a glass and told him it was pepsi. He drank it. I will NEVER forget that look on his face.)
I can't help but laugh as I read through everything I've written. It sounds more like we were enemies than any sort of friends. But that's not true. I remember the countless evenings we spent playing 'FBI' in the building. Myself, The Pilot, and this other friend of ours were the FBI and four or five younger children would be the bad guys. The community hall on the tenth floor was where our HeadQuarters were located and the 'terrorists' could go anywhere they pleased. We had to bring them back to the HQ. Any way we could. I remember running down the stairs, floor after floor, making sure it was 'clear'. Summer Holidays have never been so much fun since.
The kid with the unbeatable tazzo collection. Those little flippy things they used to give you with Lays. He was the only guy in the building who crossed 400 without counting sibling tazzos (He was an only child). Well, till the day he woke up and declared he didn't want to collect them anymore and gave them all away.
Thank you for all the fun times and the crazy moments. Thanks for making the summer hols so memorable. I didn't know the man you became. But I am not going to forget the boy I knew. Thank you for all the memories dude.
You were loved Pilot... and you will be missed. Fly high dude...
Saturday, December 27, 2008
The problem being, I'm finally at peace (kind of anyhow) with the madness around, and precedent shows that this means something is going to happen. I know, I know, self-fulfilling prophecies and all that. But what can I say? That's the way it always has been. As soon as you start thinking "Dude. This isn't so bad. I can deal with this", the higher-powers-that-be grin and throw something that's sharp, gooey and sticky right at you.
It's a sort of corollary to the sequence of events following a "What else could go wrong?".
Friday, December 26, 2008
The last few days, I've been thinking. Or rather, I've been reflecting... and the conclusion I finally came to was... Dude, Life may be fucked up sometimes, it may be a real mess... but that doesn't mean it isn't good.
Right now, I don't really have much going for me. Not in the emo way. In the very practical daily life way. You know acads, home, those things... But, every day you just keep finding reasons to go on - not just existing - but actually living. Sure, it's still all bloody complicated. Enough to make me think I'm living in a poorly directed K-serial. But all those profound, crazy, spaz and even completely random moments... well, they make it all worth it.
Spent the day at Nesthead's place. We had Karaoke night today. I also missed a viva in a subject where the teacher and I are not exactly on the best of terms, for which I will be in LOTS of trouble tomorrow. My attendance is going into negative levels. My parents are breathing down my neck trying to convince me to intern in some hospital. I am now completely unsure of the equation I was trying to solve. AND my phone refuses to send messages.
But... I played poker for the first time today (the cell phone does not count), I had an amazing lunch. I have a bottle of warm comfort on my table. We sang "Wish you were here", "Strawberry Fields Forever", "Hey Jude" and "Yellow Submarine" at the karaoke thing. I played Age of Empires - Asian Dynasties - where I was Japan. Moreover, I just found out 30th is Jam night, I have a plan for New Year's eve and soon I will be home...
Life isn't all that bad... you know?
Thursday, December 25, 2008
Drank wine, Learned to play Table Tennis, spent a few hours after midnight sitting on a road and then waited for dawn on a roof. Oh, and also went walking in a botanical garden at 7 in the morning...
It was the most random evening ever. We spent most of the night in the gym of Rubix building playing pool and table tennis.
Maybe I should back up a little. The original plan for Christmas involved 4 of us, 5 liters of beer and an empty house. But then Rubix messaged in the middle of my Crim viva asking about Christmas plans. Thus, a little before 7 pm, Miss Sunshine, Resoluter, Harry Potter and I landed up at Pecos to meet Rubix.
Resoluter was making the wall sketches on tissue papers and Anthony, the waiter, kept coming over and showing us neat tricks. And if that wasn't enough, they played Bob Dylan's "Blowing in the Wind"! They even played "High Hopes". My day was made. ^_^
Then Rubix, Resoluter and Miss Sunshine decided we should go to Rubix' place and play pool. A few of us went and bought wine, while the others set out to buy food, and then we walked all the way to Rubix' home.
The next few hours were madness. Harry Potter was teaching me how to play Table Tennis, Resoluter and Rubix were playing Pool and Miss Sunshine was the "Wine-Girl". We played for hours! Then the table broke and we spent the next many minutes trying to put it back together.
At some point in the evening, I was convinced that I had just returned from a concert where Aldemen and I had argued about Janis Joplin's real age while she sang on stage. Don't ask. I also wanted to hit Resoluter on his head with a bottle of vodka because I was sure it was made of plastic. Hmmm. So maybe I wasn't as sober as I first thought. -_-
After a few hours of sitting on the road, smoking and arguing about different perspectives on trust and friends, we made our way to Rubix' roof, where some random guy yelled at us from across the street. Considering it wasn't even dawn and we were all singing at the top of our voices, I guess it was kinda our fault... Anyhow, Harry Potter yelled right back at him and then we decided it would be warmer - not to mention safer - if we sat on the lower roof.
We waited for dawn there. Huddled up together against the cold. Since it was too early for breakfast in town, we decided to go to MTR... where we were told we would have to wait for forty five minutes! To kill time, we went walking in the Botanical Garden. It was trippy. Early morning walkers and joggers were giving us the strangest looks and it didn't help matters that we were running around imitating the strange things people do in these morning walks. You know... like hold out your arms and walk around as if you were a plane, hop on one leg, spin while moving forward... That kinda thing.
After an hour of sunbathing (those three boys are very lazy) and a brief account of what I'd told Miss Sunshine the night before (like the Janis Joplin code of truth - once again... don't ask), we decided India Coffee House would be ready for us by now. Here, I spent a lot of time sandwiched between Resolution Boy and Rubix. We ate moving only our wrists!!! Not very comfortable. But it was fun.
After saying goodbye to Rubix and a long auto ride back 'home' - throughout which Res Boy kept sleeping - there was nothing to do but sleep. And sleep we did. 7 straight hours, followed by dinner, ice cream and 6 more hours of sleep. I had the merriest Christmas I have ever had!
And we didn't even need a tree!
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
Anyhow, what I realized today, was that though I've been blogging for quite a while, this is different. Completely so. Coz for the first time there are people I have met in the flesh who are reading what I post online. So half of me says I should watch what I write out here... and the other just repeats what it says for every single decision I want to make: "Eh... Doesn't matter". So well, lets just see how long this cautious guarded phase lasts.
Anyway, what I really wanted to write about was Woodstock. Dude... If someone was to come up to me and give me an option of going back to any point in the past on the condition that I die in three days... I would just go back to 69 dude... And my only regret would be not having that fourth day to sit back and, like, replay events in my head!
I remember, this Strawberry Fields, - I think it was the last night - one of the people sitting there looked up at all of us in turn and then said, "Dude... SF is like our very own Woodstock." And through that haze of beautifully lit up smoke, all that the voice in my head had to say was... I could not agree more...
Monday, December 22, 2008
but someone always has to leave
It's just three days of heaven
That you can hope for, wish for and when over; grieve
You stand there in line
but it's always just the same
No matter how much you loathe crowds
They're the only time you can claim
That everything feels like it's okay
That no matter what happens, you want to stay
And when you see it's the fourth day
You don't know what to say
Coz suddenly the dream is over
and once more you're awake
And no matter how much you tell yourself otherwise
Your dream felt a lot less fake
So you trudge about till next year
pretending to be the same
But you don't feel anything
Till November once again calls your name...
Sunday, December 21, 2008
Law students more depressed than others
Sydney, September 19, 2008
Law students and lawyers suffer twice or even thrice as much psychological distress as medical students and others, according to a representative study conducted in Australia.
The study, conducted by the University of Sydney's Brain and Mind Research Institute (BMRI), included over 2,400 lawyers and 741 law students from 13 law schools.
Law students were found to have much higher rates of depression than medical students or other general students at the university. Significantly, law students were also found to be less knowledgeable about depression, but had greater concerns about alcohol and other substance misuse and greater reluctance to seek professional care.
They were more likely to expect that they would be discriminated against in the work place as a result of being recognised as a person with depression, a Sciencealert report said.
The study extends previous work done by the national depression initiative in 2007, which had demonstrated that lawyers reported higher levels of depression and substance misuse than other professionals.
In his presentation, Ian Hickie of BMRI emphasised that the willingness of the law schools, the Law Society and bar associations to support the study and go on to consider ways to greatly improve the situation was welcome and urgently needed.Hickie presented the findings at the third annual Tristan Jepson Memorial Oration here Thursday.
Saturday, December 20, 2008
Last year was full of first times... Actually, now that I think about it, so was 2008. And in a strange way, both these years were about saying goodbye. To different things, yes. But saying goodbye nevertheless.
Anyhow, this is supposed to be an introduction of sorts. Hence, Incense sticks are brilliant, I'm always late (No matter where I'm going) and I like the colors green and black.
Sunday, December 14, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Pun intended... maybe!
Question: Why don't you just quit then?
Answer : Because taking up law was my decision and mine alone. In fact, it wasn't even a decision my near and 'dear' were very pleased with. Lets face it. I wanted to get to Law School. And unfortunately or fortunately, my father knows it had little to do with the subject and so much more to do with landing up in Bangalore.
Still, How can I tell my parents I don't wanna stay?! And besides, it's not like I have an alternate plan or anything. It's not like I can go up to them and say "Oh, guys. Sorry. Just realized it's not law that I'm interested in, but XXX (Astronomy, Biology, whatever).
Coz there is no XXX.
But the truth still remains that I didn't come here to do law. From the start, It was just about getting away. Well, I'm away from home now... but stupid blissfully ignorant me is just waking up to the fact that the whole world is more or less the same... At least in this dimension. Or society. Whatever you want to call it. The fact remains that I can't just walk up to my parents and tell 'em I'm sick of living like... well, who? People my parents would call respectable? Normal?
What am I doing? I'm studying something I don't care bout, in order to get a job I don't want so that I can make money I won't need to buy things I'm happier without!
I do have an alternate plan actually> Go to Goa/Gokarna/quiet place, open a small cafe like place, earn just enough money to keep a roof over my head and manage basic food and clothing stuff. I want to wake up each morning to the sound of the ocean and the birds... I want to work in a small quiet place where random people will come and go, where my life may not make any significant changes to the world... but it will be mine. Completely. I want to own myself. And I want to go to sleep tired and content. (Stoned would be an added benefit ^_*) Then why don't I just go ahead and go?
Because... because I don't know how to do that to my parents. Not yet. Because even though somewhere deep down I'm sure that it would be the better option, I don't know how to get that across. There's also the fact that it's contingent on other people, but I could work around that. I know I could... It matters, but it's a little bump in the ground compared to the volcano of an issue my parents will be...
So, I stay here. Stuck. reading things that mildly interest me - if I'm lucky, getting wasted ever so often, doing things I shouldn't be doing just because I shouldn't be doing them and so on.
It's like the TV is on, but the only signal I'm catching is mainstream society's... and it's so powerful that every time I try to tune in to any other channel, the societal signal keeps interfering with the new signal... leaving me with nothing but static. I know I'll have to try further frequencies. I know it's definitely out there somewhere.. but a little part of me tells me not to try... coz it's afraid that this is the only signal out there. And if I go too far - out of range - I'll be left with nothing but silence... and I won't be able to come back...
So I choose the known evil. Static. Always just at the edge, but never leaving coz I'm afraid I won't know the way back. And I may need to come back because I'm not sure if there's anything out there. And even if there is I don't know if I'll find it...
Turned on, but can't tune in till she drops out... Can't drop out till she finds where to drop out to. And can't find out where to drop out to till she tunes in.
The cycle continues.
And I stay stuck in the rut.
What now Mr. Leary? What now?