Ascension

The above image is courtesy Jason Evans from The Clarity of Night. He held a story writing competition, with stories inspired by the photograph above. The challenging part was, the story had to be limited to 250 words. I came to know of the contest with only a couple of days left for submission. I could not come up with anything within that time-frame, largely, I suspect, due to the self-limiting belief that I haven't done any story-writing before. So I ardently, if passively, followed the contest and I must say, it was an absolute pleasure.

Weeks later, after the winners have been chosen and applauded, my meandering mind has finally generated something, so here is my take. The first story I've ever written. Try not to be brutal with your comments. Here goes :

The Irony of FILE

"Wherever and whenever we are together, always hold me to your left" she said. “So I wouldn’t interfere with the purpose of your life.”
Did she know that she was contradicting herself? I wouldn't ever know.
But I still sleep on the right side of the bed, alone, smiling at the irony.

We bought exactly identical denims on our shared 18th birthday, to mark our metamorphosis from boys to men.

“18 till we die” we decided. Did we really comprehend those words? I'm not sure.
But I still wear those denims on the day only I grow older every year, alone, smiling at the irony.

One of my earliest memories is one of him sitting pillion on my tricycle, facing backwards.
One day, years later, he introduced me to her, bringing her to me on his bike, seated backwards, so that I could not identify my promised "hot date" from afar and backtrack with nervousness.

They both used to say that too often in life we miss what we have and will have, because we are too busy looking at what we have left behind. And then we used to laugh at the irony. They were both veterans at dyslexia. But was their’s the only kind?

Some people fear the slits at the bottom and the top of the elevator. I fear the invisible crack that runs down the middle, causing the two sides to ascend at different speeds.
I still ride the elevator backwards, alone, smiling at the irony.

Av

P.S. - Just for the record, its EXACTLY 250 words. :D

The girl at office..

In the dying hours of another V-day spent alone, I can't help but reminisce about her..

So much for not dipping your pen into the company ink. Here goes..

I see her often at office. I wish I could say I see her everyday. But history bears testimony to the fact that fate has long been the tormentor of love. Sometimes we talk, and sometimes we don't. But I hardly notice that, because she speaks to me beyond words. Her very presence speaks to my soul. When I can see her, I don't just see. I observe. I hear. I smell. I taste. I feel. She makes me understand what John Denver was referring to when he sang "You fill up my senses".

The gal who struck up the conversation with me on the first day, when I was still gathering courage to smile at her.

The gal who used to pretend she didn't notice when I walked in through the door of the training room, only to check me out later when I was busy with my work.

The gal who was unsure of exactly how far I would allow someone while having a personal discussion.

The gal who was genuinely concerned more about me cracking the acceptance test than herself.

The gal who tries to be by my side in a group photo, even if it means me holding a couple of fingers as horns behind her head.

The gal who smiles assuringly at me when someone opposes my opinion over something.

The gal who likes to say "thank you" or "sorry" to me once in a while, for reasons that generally escape me.

The gal who likes to pretend that she didn't really care, when I open a door for her, or walk on the outer side of the street.

The gal who keeps track of how long it has been since we had a photo taken of just the two of us.

The gal who blushes and lowers her gaze when I just look into her eyes without smiling when she wishes me goodmorning.

The gal who pauses outside the music room and listens to me pounding on the drums, or strumming the strings, without coming in because she thinks it would distract me.

The gal who sometimes gives me big, warm smiles for apparently no reason at all.

The gal who reads up on some topics on wikipedia, that she knows I'm currently high on, just so that she can understand what the blabbering is all about.

The gal who assures me that it makes her feel good when I am protective of her, when I express my doubts about how far people should interfere in each other's lives.

The gal who gives me the whole box of traditional sweets sent to her from home, because she knows I love them.

The gal who sends me meaningless messages over chat when she can't think of anything to say to start the conversation.

The gal who calls me names, or pretends to be angry at me, if she feels that I haven't been giving her attention for the last few days.

The gal who I can compliment just by smiling at her and nodding my head in silent approval.

The gal whose cute nose wiggles ever so slightly, acting as a give-away sign, when she disapproves of something.

The gal who pretends to be not very hungry and asks me to finish her tiffin, as she knows I crave home-cooked food.

The gal who wears a new accessory to office and then waits patiently for me to take notice.

The gal who puts up with my wierd ideas and numerous offshoots in the course of a discussion.

The gal who sometimes stays back late because my work is not done, just so that we can go back in the same bus.

The gal who then lets me sleep on the bus, even though she wants to talk.

The gal who holds my hand just a jiffy too long when we shake hands.

The gal who learns the crazy handshakes I teach her and agrees to do them everytime we meet.

The gal who pauses a moment before we part everytime, evaluating the possibility of a good-bye hug.

The gal who gently snuggles up to me when I place an arm around her, and sometimes lays her head gently on my shoulder.

The babe with the beautiful hair.

The hot chick with the long legs, AND high heels.

The enchantress with the mesmerizing eyes.

I could go on and on.. But there's just one thing I'd like to say:

I really wish all of these were the one, same gal!

Hahaha! Valentine's fool!!

But on a personal note, a big, warm hug to all my female friends who can relate to something above. You are indeed special to me, and in my own quirky way, I love you more than you'll ever know.

Keep the faith,

Av

A knot in time..

This is a thread of thought that emerged in the course of a very "no-souls-barred" discussion that I had with one of my close friends in Pune. I thought I would like to share it with everyone else. Here goes:

Once in a while, everyone tends to have a really deep, meaningful discussion with a friend, a parent, a spouse or a total stranger. In retrospect, a great conversation feels like a great moment that you share forever with that person. I like to think of it as a little private isle that the two of you discovered in the middle of the ocean, hidden from everyone else.

On the surface, a great conversation seems to be all about two people sharing a moment. But dive underneath the surface of momentary perception into the waters of continually observing consciousness and the paradigm changes. To me, a conversation is like a game of chess. At every point, there are numerous ways in which it could develop, depending on what you say, or how you percieve what the other person has said and what thoughts, feelings or emotions it triggers inside you. And vice-versa.

In this perspective it is quite obvious to conclude that the way one reacts to something is not governed by causes which are ephemeral. Rather it is governed by your whole life. By your perceptions of all the experiences you have had, the subconscious co-relations that you have made, and the inferences you have drawn from them. It is about the fact that when you really speak from the heart to someone whom you trust with your real emotions, you are bringing your whole self, your complete existence to the table, to that ONE moment in time.

Secondly, when you really open up to someone and share with them the very core of your feelings, and the other person does the same, both the persons are in a place where they are quite vulnerable. The beauty of that moment always outlasts the momentary, and the warm fuzzy feeling inside oneself that you take away is most certainly far from evanescent.

I like to think of a two people sharing a great conversation as two long threads in time, intertwining for a brief moment before flowing off in different directions again. It is like a reference point that you can mentally re-visit at will, and it will remind you of all the warmth that you have in your life. Quite contrary to Mr Schopenhauer's theory, eh?

On a lighter note, is that why they say that love is a knotty affair??

Luv-n-Luck,

Av

When Love kills Love

Since today morning, I have been listening to a single song on infinite loop so I thought that I would share it with everyone. The song is called When Love Kills Love and its by the band Scorpions. Scorpions has always been one of my favourite bands for their uncanny ability to strike an amazing balance between intensity and sensitivity. Then, a few weeks ago, I bought a DVD of their concert Acoustica and life hasn't been the same ever since. The concert was performed inside a monastery called Convento do Beato in Lisbon, Portugal. The DVD was shot using 12 cameras and needless to say, is breathtaking. The ensemble included a piano, a cello and an extra percussion section other than the regular band members. They performed a nice mix of their all time hits, a few new songs and even a couple of covers, totalling up to 21 songs. The most amazing part is that the music arrangements for all the songs were completely re-done for the acoustic instruments setup. Absolutely a must-check-out piece of rock music history!

The lyrics for the song are also superbly written. Listen closely!
Here's the song:


This is probably the first and only acoustic song yet to which I have head-banged like I did today morning. I just couldn't resist its groovy feel. Also, I thought that it would make an interesting follow-up to the last post, giving the Hedgehog's Dilemma a new, intriguing twist!
In closing, here are my instantaneous thoughts on the topic:

When love kills love
Its just love gone blind
For true love never dies
Lingers on in heart & mind

When love kills love
Its no more than suicide
I thought I had you killed
But it was me who died..

Luv-n-luck,
Av

A picture, a story, a song, a theory, a thought and a poem!

Once upon a time on a very cold winter night (unlike what winter pretends to be, here in Pune), a group of hedgehogs was shivering in their little hole in the ground. Misery written all over their little snouts, they were praying for the first sign of summer and huddling together for some warmth. This was when an interesting situation presented itself. When they were apart, they would feel cold, and when they came closer to share their heat, their spines would hurt each other. So they had to choose either cold over pain or pain over cold.

Kelly Rowland and Nelly collaborated on a totally awesome rap/hip-hop song called DILEMMA, that I absolutely love. It won the 2003 Grammy Award for Best Rap/Sung Collaboration. Its one of the most groovy songs I've ever heard and makes me wanna dance every single time I hear it. Check it out!

But I'm sure you wonder why am I talking about this odd combination of a creature and two crooners?? Well, that needs yet another pic, and here it is!

This (not-so-friendly-looking) gentleman was named Arthur Schopenhauer. His work has influenced people right from the composer Richard Wagner to the psychoanalytic psychiatrist Sigmund Freud. Mr. Schopenhaeur was the first one to refer to a social psychology phenomenon called the Hedgehog's Dilemma, in his book called Parerga und Paralipomena. The theory basically refers to a metaphoric situation described in the story above, with the argument that even with the best interests in mind, intimacy in human relations can not occur without harm to both the persons involved. This leads to over-cautious behavior, which is directly responsible for fragile relationships. A corollary to this, also proposed in the same book is that if one posses enough internal warmth, one can avoid society and subsequently the psychological discomfort (argued to be) inevitable from social interaction.

To me, the paradoxical part of the theory is that such behavior is actually in the interest of both the people involved, because it protects them from the risk of getting hurt. Another funny part is that the behavior occurs inspite of sharing a goodwill and intention of a close relationship.

Secondly, the corollary is used to explain introversion and isolationism. I might be wrong, but somehow I just can't bring myself to believe that most of the people who exhibit these characteristics are really 'internally warm'. To make things complicated, I myself display traces of both the behaviours (though I've managed to tone things down over the past few years). I can surely vouch for the fact that a lot of times, it is not because you are feeling "warm enough' or for self-protection, but just because you are in a brainspace where you don't want your thoughts to be disturbed. Sometimes it might also occur because you dont psychologically percieve the interaction with or the company of a set of people (or society in general) as a high-value proposition. Then again, is that exactly what Mr. Schopenhauer refers to as "warmth"? Am I contradicting myself? Tell me what you think about this. I would love to hear your thoughts.

Just in keeping with the theme of this post, I want to end it with an anonymous poem titled

The Dilemma

To laugh is to risk appearing a fool.
To weep is to risk appearing sentimental.
To reach out for another is to risk involvement.
To expose feelings is to risk rejection.
To place your dreams before the crowd is to risk ridicule.
To love is to risk not being loved in return.
To go forward in the face of overwhelming odds is to risk failure.
But risks must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing.
The person who risks nothing does nothing, has nothing, is nothing.
He may avoid suffering and sorrow, but he cannot learn, feel, change, grow or love.
Chained by his certitudes, he is a slave.
He has forfeited his freedom.
Only a person who takes risks is free.

Luv-n-Luck,
Av