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Thursday, May 20, 2010

What IF??

A few days back I was sitting in the back of a car when the car stopped in front of a red light. Looking outside the window I saw a beggar approach the car, begging for alms. He was about the same age as I was. The difference : He was a beggar on the streets and I was a college student who went by car to college everyday. And then came the doubt-“ If I had been born into harder circumstances, would I still be able to shine like I had?”

Until then I had had a rather perfect life. I grew up in a good household . I had a loving brother,amazing parents and grandparents who doted on me and did almost everything for my happiness. I had had a good education. I had been one of the top students in school.I had excelled in debating, swimming and table tennis.I had joined one of the best colleges in the country and was very happy there.

The nagging thought persisted. Could I? What if? I begun to secretly fantasize about myself being born in an underprivileged home and succeeding at school through sheer grit. The thought was constantly present at the back of my mind, ”Like familiar weights in my hand” , just waiting to be pulled out and thrown around the edge of my conscious. However, it remained unassailable and unmoved. And it gently taunted me. There was no way I would ever know the answer to my question.

And it is this unanswerable question that fils me with rage .And it is this rage that endeavors me to push harder. To prove to people that I have achieved this success by MY effort and determination. That I am where I am today due to my own merit.

Could I have made it if I was born into harder circumstances? I’d never find out, and spending each day trying to prove that I could doesn’t help. But some questions can be answered. What do you want to achieve in this life? Are you ready to work hard for it?

I do not know if that beggar has asked himself this as yet.I do not know if he could achieve more in life but is just so disillusioned by the world that he refuses to work any more.

It’s been said that you only have one life, so you should try to live it. I don’t know about him…. But I intend to do so.

Monday, May 10, 2010

A Day In The Life

Monday

When I woke this morning and began to go about my normal routine I slowly became aware that I was different. I had, in short, become a rock.(Sorry Alok!!)

"I am a rock; I am an island”…..I loved the concept when Simon and Garfunkel sang about it. Now however, it seemed a little strange.

Feeling a little unsettled I decided I wasn’t hungry and anyway I had never heard of a rock eating breakfast. So instead I set off to the LTC(late for class as usual) with my simple rock thoughts. The journey to the LTC was uneventful and no one seemed to take any notice of my ‘rockishness’. When I arrived I felt it was only fair to discreetly tell a few of the key people around me what had happened.

“Err, Sir, I thought I’d better tell you. I may not be functioning quite to my best potential today. You see I’ve become a rock. I think I should skip classes for a week or so.”

He laughed and walked off. ‘Well’, I thought in that laid back way that only rocks can, that was a success, he doesn’t seem to mind.

I was filled with confidence. “Hey dude, Look I can’t really make the DEPP meeting today. You can probably tell by now that I’m a rock”

He told me to get stuffed in a playful manner. Telling me he would see me at one-o’clock. “No, you see I won’t be any use to you. I’m a Rock”. He looked at me strangely and told me to get to the meeting regardless.

Well what work do you do in my condition? So I sat still, as you do when your well, you know. I simply sat and felt…well great. About an hour later I was called into the dean’s office. He asked me what was going on. I explained of course. He asked me what I was trying to pull. I felt the urge to explain that rocks do little pulling, but that there are many great rocks in history that have been pulled, and for quite spectacular purposes, Stonehenge for one. He rubbed his temples. He began to explain, in strange tones that suggested disbelief, that rocks do not travel to work on the bus, do not walk around talking to people, and quite definitely would not struggle to survive once they had been kicked out of college, if I get the picture.

I laughed. “Well obviously” I said, “obviously I’m not an ordinary rock” I shook my head in dismay. “You could say I’m an exceptional rock, a very special unique piece of ‘stoneishness’(coming up with new words can be so much fun!!!). There are many things that in my superior state that I can do that no other rock can achieve. Isn’t that great. I feel great. I am without doubt the greatest rock you will ever have the honor of having in this college. He rubbed his temples some more and told me to leave the building and be back ready to study the following Monday. For some reason he told me to see a Doctor.

So I left, still feeling special and pleased he had acknowledged all those things that I could do that no other of my kind could. Walk, talk, breathe, special things. I spent some time that afternoon rolling down the slope, staring at the huge rocks in the lawns. Those majestic beings who could never move like me!! I felt I needed to do something more traditional to my kind. I didn’t want to be totally alien. I could sit and roll, just like every other rock, but also so much more. It was going to be Legend(wait for it…) dary!!

Tuesday
I
woke up on the sofa. I had spent the evening sat so totally still, appreciating my new self, but this morning things were different again. I suddenly realised that I was less rockish than before, considerably so, and soon managed to work out that I was now a toaster.

It came as a bit of a shock at first because I quickly found out that I had no bread in my room. Fortunately my dismay was short lived as I rejoiced in the fact that no other toaster in history could nip down the shops and buy its own ingredients. I was still special. I ran to the mess with speed that belied my “toasterishness” .

“Hi” I said. “This morning I found out I’m a toaster and I need some bread.” The mess guy was confused, thinking that it was some sort of career move. She was amazed that someone would get paid just to toast bread.And in his predictable style he said “ LIMITED!!” I soon put him straight(with help from our mess in charge of course).But soon they were out of bread.. So I sat in front of the grocery store for a while and twisted the browning knob on the side of my head and smiled at passers by. “Could I toast you some bread” I would call out, “only I don’t have any. Do you?” No one was hungry. The knob on the other side of my head must have been an additional new feature. I couldn’t work out what it did just then but I must have been a very advanced model.

Since I had the week off(medical reasons apparently!), I decided to roam around the city.
I visited an electrical store and looked lovingly but somewhat pitifully at the other toasters they had there. How sad they must feel now that they knew what the competition was like. I gently caressed a few, and playfully teased the sprung levers on their sides.. A shop assistant came over after about 10 minutes and asked if I was going to buy one. I stood and used my hands to direct his gaze to my full superior stature and exclaimed. “Do I look like I need any other toaster” I laughed and walked out feeling fantastic.

Wednesday

I rolled out of bed feeling thirsty and filled a bowl with water. Placing my feet in its refreshing depths I sat and basked in the sun shining through the window. I quickly accepted that this was strange behaviour for a toaster, water and sun and all that. It then dawned on me that I was a tree.

I wriggled my roots in the bowl and felt truly alive. I remembered the Ents from LOTR and how they could move their roots too, and walk. So could I! I looked at the tree’s outside, set rigid and unmoving in the ground. I could breathe too. Then I thought further and realised that all trees breathed in a way. Well, being able to move about was a real advantage. To prove the point, and because there wasn’t much sun left in my room I moved outside and found a really bright patch of grass.

I spent the day hunting out the sunniest places, reveling in my peerless skill. I saw dogs peeing up against many of my kind and felt relieved that any dog trying that trick on me would get one hell of a surprise as I swiftly move away and leave it peeing freely into the air for all to see. It was only a shame that I was such a small tree, diminutive in comparison to those around me in the campus. The trick would be to get plenty of sun and water and I could find as much of both as I wanted. I would catch up in no time. It would be a doodle. I breathed the air deeply.

Eventually night-time came, of course and I began to feel very weak. I retired to my room and turned on all the lights. It felt better I suppose, out of the darkness and wind. The lights weren’t as good as the sun but it must have been better than it was for those poor sad souls outside. I soon slept.


Thursday

I woke feeling starved. I had no food in the room and I needed to get to the bank and my severely depleted current account. I rubbed my brow to ease the headache behind my eyes. I was defiantly human again. I looked outside. My vague reflection in the window fully confirmed my sad transformation. My feet were just feet that moved all of my kind around in a truly mundane fashion. My arm was just sore, and my second arm was just…well, an arm. I crawled back to bed, my stomach churning and my muscles weak. I would stay there and wait, and maybe tomorrow, with a little luck I might be a rock again.

Friday, May 7, 2010

Introduction (finally :D )

After posting 6 articles I noticed that this blog lacked an element that was present in every blog I've read upto now. A friggin introduction. So for all you non existent readers, THIS IS IT!!!! (MJ lines sound so lame now).

This blog is just a place for me to express my views and opinions. Congratulations are always welcome.:D Criticism is also accepted.However, I'm sure you've got better things to do than criticize me and I'm sure we're both happier this way.
The blog has no fixed theme.All the articles just express my outlook towards society and the world in general. Ideas for these articles come to me when I'm trying to sleep,and i drag myself out of bed to write them down.My point being: Ignore the typos and other grammatical errors, I was half asleep.

Roots, bloody roots

It's been said that your roots define you.When your life passes by day by day,your roots are all that stay with you.

What are roots?Are your roots your family history? Your blood relations perhaps?Are they the friends you hang out with? Are your roots defined by the songs you listen to?Your hobbies and interests? Quite frankly, I have absolutely no idea.
A simple google search for 'tracing your roots' reveals over 13 million links. 13 frigging million!!! (for all you non existent delinquents reading this , that's 6 whole zeros). So basically, there could be 13 million people out there each with his/her own views.So in the end,who's right?
At the end of it all, who am I? Are my roots my family? I hope not, because until now I've had no interest whatsoever in meeting most of my relatives. Even remembering their names becomes a herculean task occasionally.
Are my roots my motherland? I may be called a Tamilian because of my parents. Then again, I've never had the desire to learn the language? Does my country qualify as a root? Does nationality really make a difference? Does patriotism define my character and make me the man I'm supposed to be?
Are roots even important? Yes, I'm sure that they can give you stability when you really need it.But don't these same roots prevent you from leaving the ground and soaring towards the 'heavens'. After a point,don't roots just hinder your progress?
So I'm finally back to the same question: Who am I? I've been around 19 years ( No more a kid Sahil!!) and frankly, I'd like to know where my roots lie. Does it matter at all? Does my outlook towards life change when I figure out where my roots lie? More importantly, is it immoral or inhumane of me to even question my own identity? Or in the end, am I just a teenager who ponders about such stuff at 4am just hours before an exam?