Ek Baar Waqt Se Lamha Gira Kahin
Wahaan Dastan Mili Lamha Kahin Nahin
Thoda Sa Hasaake Thoda Sa Rulaake Pal Ye Bhi Jaanewala Hai
With the song playing in the background I just stopped what I was doing....(pretending to work). One look at the window and I was forced to get up and stand besides it. It's raining cats and dogs outside here in Ahmedabad. And the scene outside is extremely beautiful. I have this habit of messaging my friends whenever I notice something beautiful about nature so that even they can feel the beauty. I took my cell out only to realise that my friends sittign 1000 kms away cannot really enjoy this rain (though I believe it has been raining there as well). And there I go back into my "i-am-sad-being-away-from-my-friends" mode.
hmmmmm but sipping a hot cup of coffee and studying the nature and watching people passing by, life ain't that sad....
Thoda Sa Hasaake Thoda Sa Rulaake Pal Ye Bhi Jaanewala Hai
I don't want to.....
I don't wanna sit
I don't wanna stand
I don't wanna walk
I don't wanna stop
I don't wanna laugh
I don't wanna cry
I don't wanna live
but I don't wanna die..
May be this doesn't make much sense but I just wanted to write this. As this is what I am actually feeling. Has it ever happened to you? Have you felt moments when you do not want to do anything but cannot sit idle? You want to talk your heart out but do not feel like using these things called 'words'....you want to be a part of the hustle and bustle in a crowd but are reluctant to compromise your space. There are thousands of such contradictory things running on my mind. But I think this much is enough.
Perhaps this is beacuse I am away from home for the first time. Sitting approximately 1000kms from home (in Ahmedabad), may be this is how one feels. I am missing home but do not really want to return. I am certain this feeling would go as things settle and then I shall share with you the beauty of the Gujju land. (I hope I am able to steal some more moments like these when I can blog....missing my PC without any contradictions)
I don't wanna stand
I don't wanna walk
I don't wanna stop
I don't wanna laugh
I don't wanna cry
I don't wanna live
but I don't wanna die..
May be this doesn't make much sense but I just wanted to write this. As this is what I am actually feeling. Has it ever happened to you? Have you felt moments when you do not want to do anything but cannot sit idle? You want to talk your heart out but do not feel like using these things called 'words'....you want to be a part of the hustle and bustle in a crowd but are reluctant to compromise your space. There are thousands of such contradictory things running on my mind. But I think this much is enough.
Perhaps this is beacuse I am away from home for the first time. Sitting approximately 1000kms from home (in Ahmedabad), may be this is how one feels. I am missing home but do not really want to return. I am certain this feeling would go as things settle and then I shall share with you the beauty of the Gujju land. (I hope I am able to steal some more moments like these when I can blog....missing my PC without any contradictions)
Why do all good things come to an end?
Traveling I only stop at exits
Wondering if I'll stay
Young and restless
Living this way I stress less
I want to pull away when the dream dies
The pain sets in and I don't cry
I only feel gravity and I wonder why
Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end.......
~Says Nelly Furtado~
Says me too! I am getting senti as one of the best phases in my life has reached the dusk stage...The sun that rose on January 4, 2007 had set on July 4, 2007 but myriad colours had still managed to keep the sky beautiful. The colours too have faded now..... It seems to be the darkest hour of the.....
(Okay let me come to the point before it gets too dramatic and abstract)
Times School of Journalism (The Times of India) welcomed its fourth batch on 4 January, 2007. It was a scary day. On the very first day we were loaded with four fat books and assignments(now that I am writing I noticed there are too many fours involved....could that possibly signify anything??).
Anyways, as days passed earth seemed to be spinning faster on its axis. Hours passed in the blink of an eye. Day turned into night in no time. Number of assignments seemed to be having competition with the rising sensex. Sleeping hours reduc....wait a minute what??? sleeping....it is sheer wastage of time. Being insomniac is such a bliss....gives you a lot more time to plan the assignments and crib about them.....yeah cribbing about the work load soon becomes enjoyable. Isn't it? There was a phase when we had forgotten the days of the week. The only form of answer to "Kal kya hai?" was Radio journalism assignment, Suparna mam's presentation, book presentation etc etc
We soon learnt to laugh at it. Faces that had the grace of a royal palace now looked as inelegant as the slums in Dharavi. But we (including all the girls) learnt to live with it. The joy of dressing up gracefully was replaced with the gratification of stealing a few moments from the oh-so-busy-routine.
In those stolen moments we tried to catch up with the scraps waiting for us on orkut. Those moments were reserved for absolutely unimportant mails in our inbox, for the calls unattended as we were busy sleeping...no no..attending lectures, for sitting and gossiping at the RDB spot, for going down for a cup of coffee, for going to the canteen only to hear there is nothing left for us, for preparing for channel presentations and play, for active and passive smoking, for preparing for the next lecture, for planning to bunk the lecture, surviving some harmless pranks, and laughing.......
Saturdays were the best days. Did not have assignments on saturdays. Few moments of the afternoon were dedicated to 'relaxation dancing' by two great dancers. Then a movie in Film, Art & Theatre class. After a heavily hectic week, we considered it our right to enjoy saturday evenings....those were spent mostly in CP or deciding where to go and ultimately landing in CP......Ah those evenings in Central Park, in pubs n discs, on footpath, in Mac Donalds, in Janpath, in and outside American Center......And every evening when did not mind walking an extra mile to eat or at least get the aroma of Pao Bhaji, have ice cream full of fruits n nuts (just for Rs 10, bhuttas and quick bites at the bakery...
Sundays passed by in pending assignments and with wikipedia preparing for book presentation the next day.
Six months passed with such a routine. The routine gifted us the stamina to remain awake almost all night (and catch up with sleep in clas..shhhh); meet deadlines; think of excuses for entering late in classes; ability to --deal with biasness and prejudices (only TSJ students will understand this), make presentations without preparation and live an unpredictable life.
It gave us some invaluable friends and time we'd cherish forever...
Internship is putting us all in different locations. It's hard even to imagine to be living without seeing other 19 faces.... Sheesh...why do all good things come to an end?
Wondering if I'll stay
Young and restless
Living this way I stress less
I want to pull away when the dream dies
The pain sets in and I don't cry
I only feel gravity and I wonder why
Flames to dust
Lovers to friends
Why do all good things come to an end.......
~Says Nelly Furtado~
Says me too! I am getting senti as one of the best phases in my life has reached the dusk stage...The sun that rose on January 4, 2007 had set on July 4, 2007 but myriad colours had still managed to keep the sky beautiful. The colours too have faded now..... It seems to be the darkest hour of the.....
(Okay let me come to the point before it gets too dramatic and abstract)
Times School of Journalism (The Times of India) welcomed its fourth batch on 4 January, 2007. It was a scary day. On the very first day we were loaded with four fat books and assignments(now that I am writing I noticed there are too many fours involved....could that possibly signify anything??).
Anyways, as days passed earth seemed to be spinning faster on its axis. Hours passed in the blink of an eye. Day turned into night in no time. Number of assignments seemed to be having competition with the rising sensex. Sleeping hours reduc....wait a minute what??? sleeping....it is sheer wastage of time. Being insomniac is such a bliss....gives you a lot more time to plan the assignments and crib about them.....yeah cribbing about the work load soon becomes enjoyable. Isn't it? There was a phase when we had forgotten the days of the week. The only form of answer to "Kal kya hai?" was Radio journalism assignment, Suparna mam's presentation, book presentation etc etc
We soon learnt to laugh at it. Faces that had the grace of a royal palace now looked as inelegant as the slums in Dharavi. But we (including all the girls) learnt to live with it. The joy of dressing up gracefully was replaced with the gratification of stealing a few moments from the oh-so-busy-routine.
In those stolen moments we tried to catch up with the scraps waiting for us on orkut. Those moments were reserved for absolutely unimportant mails in our inbox, for the calls unattended as we were busy sleeping...no no..attending lectures, for sitting and gossiping at the RDB spot, for going down for a cup of coffee, for going to the canteen only to hear there is nothing left for us, for preparing for channel presentations and play, for active and passive smoking, for preparing for the next lecture, for planning to bunk the lecture, surviving some harmless pranks, and laughing.......
Saturdays were the best days. Did not have assignments on saturdays. Few moments of the afternoon were dedicated to 'relaxation dancing' by two great dancers. Then a movie in Film, Art & Theatre class. After a heavily hectic week, we considered it our right to enjoy saturday evenings....those were spent mostly in CP or deciding where to go and ultimately landing in CP......Ah those evenings in Central Park, in pubs n discs, on footpath, in Mac Donalds, in Janpath, in and outside American Center......And every evening when did not mind walking an extra mile to eat or at least get the aroma of Pao Bhaji, have ice cream full of fruits n nuts (just for Rs 10, bhuttas and quick bites at the bakery...
Sundays passed by in pending assignments and with wikipedia preparing for book presentation the next day.
Six months passed with such a routine. The routine gifted us the stamina to remain awake almost all night (and catch up with sleep in clas..shhhh); meet deadlines; think of excuses for entering late in classes; ability to --deal with biasness and prejudices (only TSJ students will understand this), make presentations without preparation and live an unpredictable life.
It gave us some invaluable friends and time we'd cherish forever...
Internship is putting us all in different locations. It's hard even to imagine to be living without seeing other 19 faces.... Sheesh...why do all good things come to an end?
Yeh Jo hai Zindagi....
This is the first time I am posting a poem in hindi...The essence was getting lost in English.
Coffee ke cup si mehakti hui
Baarish ki bundon si tapakti hui
Aur un bundon pe naachti patto si
Zindagi mili....acha laga
Ek bachche ke hoton pe baithi thi
Chhup rahi thi....
Maine dhyaan se dekha tab dikhi
Acha laga
So rahi thi chandni raat mein
Ek ped ke neeche
Us aasmaan mein chupte chand me nazar aayi
Acha laga
Beh rahi thi ek nadi si
Chupkar kai lehron mein
Un laheron ke beech
Jhaankti nazar aayi....
Acha laga
Natkhat hai...chalaak hai
Masoom hai par shaitan hai
Nikal jaati hai aksar yuhi
Zindagi......
Coffee ke cup si mehakti hui
Baarish ki bundon si tapakti hui
Aur un bundon pe naachti patto si
Zindagi mili....acha laga
Ek bachche ke hoton pe baithi thi
Chhup rahi thi....
Maine dhyaan se dekha tab dikhi
Acha laga
So rahi thi chandni raat mein
Ek ped ke neeche
Us aasmaan mein chupte chand me nazar aayi
Acha laga
Beh rahi thi ek nadi si
Chupkar kai lehron mein
Un laheron ke beech
Jhaankti nazar aayi....
Acha laga
Natkhat hai...chalaak hai
Masoom hai par shaitan hai
Nikal jaati hai aksar yuhi
Zindagi......
The Fountainhead
"Man’s ego is the fountainhead of human progress."
I gave two months of my life to this book and I know what I have gained for life.
Howard Roark, Peter Keating, Gail Wynand, Dominique Francon, Henry Cameron, and Ellsworth Toohey—have taught me what years of experience couldn’t have; in all probability my survival would not have the meaning it has today.
For those who have no clue what I am talking of please rush to your nearest bookstore and grab a copy of The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand!!
The book, in these two months, saw various emotions on my face—of sorrow, of joy, of pain, of revelation, and of fear… In the process of discovering the “I” in me I found Peter Keating in me. I noticed myself quivering with fear then. It was too much for my self-obsessed soul.
"Never ask anyone what you should do when it comes to your career, how can you be so ignorant, how can you ask what you should be doing?"
Within the complexities of the book I understood a lot of complexities of life. You cannot decipher anything external unless you interpret your own self…your ego….your esteem…your worth. Once you do that ‘others’ do not matter. Their opinion does not leave you in doubt. You do not wait for the approval of others. You become independent. You realize you are an individual. And then you will discover the strength of that individual.
The most poignant message comes at Roark’s trial when he tells the world:
"I came here to say that I do not recognize anyone’s right to one minute of my life. Nor to any part of my energy. Nor to any achievement of mine. I wished to come here and say that I am a man who does not exist for others."
Love is selfish.
"Before one can say 'I love you', one must first learn to say the word 'I'."
Would you torture the one you love? Would you do everything possible to make your lover suffer? Would you love the one who raped you? Dominique did. And for not one moment did I doubt the chastity of their relationship. Read about Dominique and Roark’s complex affair and you’ll understand this.
So are we…
"Man—every man—is an end in himself…" We must live for our own sake. For our happiness. Morality does not consist in living for others or for society. It consists in living for your self.
"The pursuit of his own rational self-interest and of his own happiness is the highest moral purpose of his life."
Reason is the only absolute
Reason is man’s only means of knowledge. Life is not about accepting things and blindly following them. It’s about questioning the beliefs, understanding them and if need be negating them. Absence of reasoning has made this a world of “second-handers.” A world which Ellsworth Toohey talked about:
“A world of obedience and of unity. A world where the thought of each man will not be his own, but an attempt to guess the thought of the next neighbour who’ll have no thought – and so on, Peter, around the globe. Since all must agree with all. A world where no man will hold a desire for himself, but will direct all his efforts to satisfy the desires of his neighbour who’ll have no desires except to satisfy the desires of the next neighbour, who’ll have no desires – around the globe, Peter. Since all must serve all. A world in which man will not work for so innocent an incentive as money, but for that headless monster--prestige. The approval of his fellows – their good opinion – the opinion of men who’ll be allowed to hold no opinion. An octopus, all tentacles and no brain.”
You live a life when you read a book. A good book makes you feel the emotions of the characters and you feel the presence of characters around you. Catch-22 (by Joseph Heller) made me laugh. The Kite Runner (by Khaled Hosseini) made me cry. The Fountainhead made me think.
The book is so intense that I took several minutes to come to reality every time I read a few pages of the book. The philosophy is quite subtle and you need some time to take it in completely. Besides, it is full of literary fireworks, incredible word pictures, and the power to make the reader read 10 pages when the intention was to read just 2 at that time.
My only problem with Ayn Rand is that in certain portions the philosophy is so dragged that it seems she doubts the aptitude of the reader in understanding what she wished to convey. Nevertheless, do not miss out on this book. Rest assured, it shall enter your list of favourite books when you are not even half way through it.
My favourite quotes:
“I’ll never remind you afterward that you’re crying, Dominique.” [Roark when Dominique calls the press.]
"She thought how strange it would be if she ever said 'Hello' to him; one did not greet oneself each morning."
"Being with Howard is like being alone with myself, only more at peace."
"Don't allow men to be happy. Happiness is self-contained and self-sufficient. Happy men have no time and no use for you. Happy men are free men. So kill their joy in living."
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