Fernweh...

"If you cage a bird for too long, it will forget how to fly."

To begin with I have a few confessions.

1)Confession 1:I am a food addict. Not just the type that hogs at a particular dish. I like to taste and try varieties. I even enjoy experimenting with my cooking style. Sometimes it is delicious but then sometimes it is .......Arrghhh! Don't have a word to describe it.

2) Confession 2: I love reading. Not the academic stuff or the scholarly literature. Any random book I feel like reading. Reading about different places, different people and different customs and beliefs fascinates me. Honestly there is so much to read and learn that one lifetime is not enough.

3) Confession 3: As a kid I wanted to learn many languages. Unfortunately I did not have enough passion for learning languages. In fact I can only manage passable Hindi and English. But I have picked up many words and phrases from different languages and I use them a lot in my daily life. Mostly it is Bengali, Kannada, Bhojpuri, Maithili, Telugu and Arabic. Some I learnt from books about those places some I picked up from my stay in those places. Certainly not enough, but sufficient to irritate others.

It naturally follows that I love travelling as it combines all the three things I just confessed my love for. Almost every other person will immediately respond "hell I love travelling too!"

Let me give you a reality check.

Signs that you really love travelling:

1) You just have to go out on a Weekend. A weekend spent at home is a weekend wasted

2) You have your dream destinations listed out. And you keep ticking them one by one.

3) If you are going out for a long trip, you find out all about that place. The major tourist attractions, the historical importance of the place, best local food joint and their specialty dish, the languages spoken there, the common greeting words, the local folk lore or any other interesting thing.

4) You would rather not sleep and waste money on lodging if it cuts into your budget for sightseeing. In fact all you need is a rucksack or a backpack and enjoy all attractions. Even a night time stroll.

5) You will take pictures of sights that mesmerize you. It is not absolutely necessary for you to be in the snap yo make it memorable.

6) You will interact with the local people and find out more about each place you visit.

7) When you are travelling food may not be the most important thing at some places. You will skip a meal in order to try out the one local dish that was a bit expensive.

8) You don't always need company to visit a place. Sometimes alone trips turn out to be more fun.

9) Budget is hardly ever an issue.

10) Spontaneous trips are something you love

Signs that travelling is not your thing

1) You like to relax at home on weekends and only go out for a movie or food.

2) You travel with a heavy baggage of your best clothes and accessories to ensure that you look good in all pictures.

3) Any picture taken of anything must have your face somewhere in the frame.

4) You decide your budget beforehand and more than half of it is for lodging.

5) Nothing can interfere with your meal timings even if you are on a trip.

6) You must have good company before you even plan a trip.

7) "Folk lore, history? Not my thing. Is it beautiful?"

8) " What will I do by learning even a word of local language? I have to stay there for like one day. I'll manage."

9) The moment you get back from a trip you just have to share pictures immediately. "Why else did I take all those selfies for?"

10) Alone trips are a strict no no. After all we plan trips with friends so we can relax and gossip.

This is it. I am done with my stereotyping. Most people are going to say "What is this rubbish? This guy is a self proclaimed know-it-all. I love travelling and I am still going to write travelling as my hobby in my resume." Well thank you for the name-calling. You are entitled to live in your fantasy world. I am entitled to my opinion.

PS: This bird had been trapped too long in a cage. Tomorrow it will be released. A few days to strengthen its wings and then time for a reality check. Does it still remember to fly?

Transition.....

Once upon a time I was cool,

Back then I was at school.

My parents called me lazy,

My teachers called me crazy,

Everyone tried to lecture me,

But that did not bother me.

Because back then I was cool!

Moving a little forward in time,

I had my best days in college time,

So many lectures to bunk,

So many subjects to flunk,

Days were spent in hangover,

Before I sobered up college was over,

I had managed to stay cool!

Now I have a salaried job,

And a boss who is a snob,

I work hard round the clock,

Causing serious mental block,

My friends tell me to take it light,

And I think they might be right

Because I no longer feel cool!!

Life is what we make it...

Life is like a novel. You don't know what will happen unless you turn the page. – Sidney Sheldon (The Other Side of Me)

Life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get. -Forest Gump 

Life's a song, you don't get to rehearse and every single verse can make it that much worse. -Buffy the Vampire Slayer

As we begin to realize that every different type of music, everybody's individual music, has its own rhythm, life, language and heritage, you realize how life changes, and we learn how to be more open and adaptive to what is around us.

As we begin to realize that every different chocolate from the box, has a different flavour, a different taste, which may be desirable for one person but very disgusting to another. We begin to realize that life gives everyone the same chances; the same chocolate box. The taste is a personal inclination.

As we begin to realize that every different genre of novel, each and every chapter of the novel, tells a different story, has a different twist, and perhaps a different ending we begin to realize how everyone's life is different from each other, and we start writing a whole new chapter for ourselves.

Life is a gift which is the same for everyone. It is how we use the gift that really matters. I am neither a preacher nor a philosopher. In fact I do not belong to any breed of the self-proclaimed scholars, who claim to know the purpose of life. All I claim to be is a wanderer.

Yet again  "Not all who wander are lost"  -Tolkein. 

Life is full of unexpected happenings and many crossroads. We have to be lost to find something. We have to wander, We have to believe but above all we have to live. The only way to understand life is to live it and accept it no matter what is in store. Read every page, taste every flavour and listen to every tune. 

A Simple Answer..

"Do you believe in God?"

A question that each one of us comes across on many occasions. Time and again I've tried to dodge this but it just keeps popping up. This is one question which has no right or wrong answer.

I believe in God. But I don't believe in religion, or anything that man says about God. I don't believe in idols, I don't believe in superstitions or any other religious dogma. Being in a society one is sometimes forced to follow some codes but it is entirely a personal choice to believe in it.

To me, God is not omnipresent, he is not omniscient, he is not almighty, and certainly not a supreme power residing in heaven aloof of all our day to day problem, capable of performing miracles. Its not God who performs miracles, its us. What is a miracle? An unexpected, extraordinary performance or occurrence, which can be performed by an individual in a moment of brilliance. 

"God is the life that exists within us, the inspiration, the motivation, the self which makes us who we are..... "

This is the simplest answer which I can think of.

I am the exception that proves the rule

I am the artist performing on the stage,
I am the tiny bird trapped in a cage,
I am the firefly that isn't very bright,
I am the spirit of a moonless night,
I am the song that was never sung,
I am the bell that was never rung,
I am the athlete who lost the race,
I am the stranger without a face,
I am the book that was never published,
I am the lamp whose light has diminished,
I am the oddity, I am the fool,
I am the exception that proves the rule.

Happiness

 Happiness is an elusive treasure,
Hidden beneath a sea of tears,
It can be found within minutes,
Or elude you for many years.
Even when it is finally found,
It is not very easy to keep,
And once it is lost again,
You'll never be able to sleep.
Spending your time searching,
For the unattainable treasure,
Foregoing all sense of time,
And enduring pain beyond measure.
What you need to understand is,
That happiness is a state of mind,
It can be found in small things,
Happiness of a different kind...

Lost...

I don't want to become,
Another book on the shelf,
I want to be  lost,
In a quest to find myself.

I want to be lost,
So that I can be found,
And reach a destination,
Not just wander around.

I want to redefine myself,
I want to recreate the world,
And not just sit listlessly,
Thinking about a dream world.

Bring down the Curtain.

"All the world's a stage,
And all the men and women merely players:
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts. "

William Shakespeare. 

Once in a while someone disagrees with something that Shakespeare says.
But I neither have strength nor the desire to disagree in this case.

If the world is a stage, then life is a play. A play that has more irony 
than anything Shakespeare has ever written. 

One ACT of the play is now over. 

Its time for another ACT to begin.

Time to say "Bring down the curtain!" 

This is the last post on my blog.

For those who liked it: All good things come to an end.
For those who didn't : Thank me for sparing you :)

Farewell! 

Zendagi Migzara

"Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of a joy you must have somebody to divide it with." 

Mark Twain

Nothing can be worse than the feeling of being all alone. The feeling of being lonely. This feeling originates from being in an idle state for long. As they say an idle mind is the devil's abode. This state of idleness creates a vacuum, a strange emptiness. Its like falling in an abyss, trapped inside your own mind.

So many words are left unspoken,

And a loving heart gets broken,

The eyes  shed rivers  of tears,

The rational mind gives in to fears.

Left all alone without a friend,

Waiting for the suffering to end.

The  worst nightmare: A picture of your best friends, with no place for you in the picture. The fear of being abandoned takes over.  It controls you, and distorts your perception. It magnifies your problems. As you watch the moments slipping away, others moving ahead, you feel jealous.

A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out.  No man is useless as long as he has one friend standing beside him. He'll believe in you even if you have stopped believing in yourself.

Life goes on. "ZENDAGI MIGZARA". The fragments of life are very semantic. You never know what to expect. If nothing is going your way you just have to wait. The wheels of fortune may turn anytime.

If

If you have the courage,

To dream and desire,

If you have the will,

And the strength to aspire,

If you have enough faith,

In your capabilities,

You'll achieve your goal,

Despite all difficulties.

If you have the heart,

And the desire to try,

If you can face defeat,

And yet not cry,

If you have the belief,

In the power of actions

You'll achieve success,

Even in adverse conditions

The 4-lettered word.

Every human life is controlled by a 4 lettered word. A hopeless romantic would say this word is LOVE. A sexually frustrated youth would say its F**K. An optimist would say its HOPE. A self proclaimed genius would say its MIND. A foolhardy person would say its WILL. If you come under any of the above said embodiments, please do not take offence in what I'm about to say. Anyone who believes his life is controlled by anything other than FATE, is a fool living in a fantasy world. FATE is not just any other 4-lettered word. It is "the 4-lettered word".

FATE is the ultimate agency that predetermines the course of events, the successes and failures, and even the smallest turns in our lives. It is the quintessential of the concept of divinity. Fate can make your life or screw it completely within a blink of an eye. Fate is an "acclaimed" sadist and a "renowned" misanthrope. It crawls surreptitiously behind us and the best-laid plans of mice and men often go astray.

As a kid, I sincerely believed in the old saying "Men are makers of their destiny.". In my experience I have never been able to choose my destiny nor have I seen anyone else do so. Many are deluded into believing Fate's choices to be their own. Not even the smartest and the strongest of mortals can defy Fate. We can either resign ourselves to our fate and face it like a coward. Or we can choose our own path. No matter what path we take the end will be the same. Fate will have its say. But at least we'll have no regrets. There will be no lingering doubts about "what might have happened." The extent of our courage is limited not only by our ability to defy Fate in adverse circumstances, but also to embrace whatever Fate has in store for us. We may not control what happens in our life, but we can control how we live our life.

Part of "The Story"

Success, failure, friendship, love, heartbreak, misery despair, sudden happiness and hope; these are all part of the story. The story of life. Every life, no matter how long or how short, how big or how small has its own story, There is a beginning and an end. Each beginning and end have their own story to tell. A story of how it all begun.. or how the end came. Its a story of continuity...the story of life. Each one of us is tangled in one's own stories of beginning or end. Its a bunch of stories meshed together to form a vast net in which one is caught.

Every night ushers in a beautiful morning and promises us a new story, every night also narrates the tale of a day lived. And life is lived between these two extremities...the beginning and the end. Two sides of the same coin. They always go together but they never meet. In the early hours of the morning the sun seeks over the horizon creating an aura about itself. The bringer of light and hope, the promise of a new beginning. The moon portrays a picture of calmness and serenity. It tells us how peaceful and quiet the end can be. It's a never ending cycle; this cycle of day and night, beginning and end, the cycle of life.

The beginning is generally promising and the end is mostly quiet. It is what comes in between that creates the most fascinating of all tales. The Best Story among the multitude. Just like the beginning and the end, it has a story of its own to narrate.

Stories of the joys shared, of the laughter that echoed through the tunnel of time, of the sorrows forgotten and the pain erased by love. Tales of the million unfulfilled dreams, of the unspoken desires, of the friendships formed, of the enemies made, and of so much more. From a broken toy to a crashed car, from the lullabies to the dance numbers, from mom's scoldings to employer's reprimands, every minute of life has infinite possibilities. What could have happened? What actually happened? And what may happen? These questions are immaterial, for whatever happens its all predestined. Its all written by the maker's skilled hand. Its all part of the story. A story which we cannot change.

The Face

"God has given you one face, and you make yourself another."

William Shakespeare

I never agreed with Shakespeare more than I do now. God sculptured an "innocent face" for all homo sapiens. Just take a look at an infant's face and you'll know what I mean. The face of an infant is always innocent. That is because he trusts everyone and loves everyone. He is yet to come across deceit, hatred, jealousy , ego and the many other darker vices of life. As he grows older and learns from his experiences his face changes. 

I am not talking about the changes brought about by age. I am talking about the "quality" of the face. I described the infant's face as an "innocent one". Innocence is his quality. We humans have far more keener senses and sound instinct than most of us credit ourselves with. The moment we look someone in the face we form an opinion about the person in our subconscious. This opinion is free from any bias due to the person's attire or any knowledge about his history. I am not saying that Sherlock Holmes lies dormant inside all of us. We all know that looks can be deceptive. A murderer may have a cherub-like face and an altruist may have a very repulsive face. After all its what we do that defines us and not our face.

But the face is how we are known. Just look around yourself and you'll find a different quality in each face. An honest face, a dishonest face, a cruel face, an ancient face, an expressionless face, and so on. The look on the face also creates an impression. A smiling face, a sad face, a lonely face and face which give you a cold calculating look ( The one described in almost all thriller novels) Each face creates an impression in your mind. The real person may be much more different than that impression but you'll only find out when you interact. My point is what you are inside is reflected on your face. Some people hide it by wearing a mask. Whatever it is the face we see is not the one that God gave man, but what the man sculptured for himself by becoming what he is through his actions.

Where to draw the line?

In the first sweet sleep of night,

When the stars are shining bright.

When the winds are breathing low,

when the moon emits its glow,

I wake up from a scary dream,

Where I was lost in a stream,

Silently going down below,

Lost in a dark and empty hollow.

I rise like a lion after slumber,

Dancing to a fearless number,

I shake off the chains off me,

Which in my sleep had enslaved me.

I start working with a cheery song,

But I have a feeling its all wrong.

I know something is bothering me,

Even though its precluded by me.

I make a search for the brighter side.

Is it right to fear the unknown and hide?

I think about that dream of mine,

And I wonder "Where to draw the line"?

The Change..

He didn't know what he was doing there. He didn't remember how he had got there.He wanted to get out of here but couldn't find an exit. He was angry but there was no one he could take out his anger on. He was screaming but no one could hear him. He was trapped in that oddly shaped close room. When he no longer had the strength to continue shouting and screaming he got down on his knees. Slowly the anger subsided, and he started to look around and think. The room was filled with a lot of sheets of paper. He picked up one of them and started reading. The surprise was plainly visible on his face. He started picking up sheets after sheets and reading them frantically. There was a restlessness and urgency in his movements. And then he started cursing and swearing.

     The ringing of the alarm clock sounded like a knell. He woke up with a start. He realized that it was just a nightmare and was relieved. He clearly remembered what was written on those sheets. Each and every dream he had ever had, all his unfulfilled desires, all his failures were written on the sheets. He was feeling depressed. Why should he have such a dream? Why couldn't he have happy dreams instead of these nightmares. Then he remembered it hadn't always been the same. As a little boy he had happy dreams, dreams about a future where he'd be a successful person. Hadn't he always been excited to tell everyone about his dreams. Why had it all changed?

He thought about it for a while and then he concluded that it was because of his own mistakes. This ill temper he had,the way he couldn't handle his anger, the outlook he had on life had messed up his life. It had destroyed who he was inside and out.It had made him a wrong person and had caused only grief and sorrow to him and those around him. He remembered how often he had opportunities to make it count and how easily he had blown them all. How many times he had chances to redeem himself and every time he had messed it up. He felt a tinge of remorse but he couldn't change the past. He now understood the meaning of his dream. That oddly shaped room full of sheets was his personal hell, of his own making. He was trapped in his own mind. He knew there was only one way he could avoid it; by setting things right and getting rid of this anger. He made a promise to himself that he would change from hereafter. Change for the good...

The Dancing Princess..

Far from the hustle and bustle of the city,

Lies this calm and serene place.

Crowned with aster and edelweiss,

And decorated by the chestnuts and chanticleers,

Lies this magnificent garden by the brook.

Butterflies race over the white and the blue,

squirrels dance around the tree trunks.

So very pure is the lively breeze,

It seems to be blessed by Aether's grace.

A sole silhouette moves in this place,

The silhouette of a young girl,

As she moves into the warm sunlight,

Her cherub like face shines like an Olympian God.

Across the hedge she dances, free of all worries,

Her spirit...never letting her dreams go,

The skies understand her hearts true calling

They tell her what to do, and she knows it too..

She just wants to  merge in with the beauty of this place,

A place where permission isn't needed to let her body go,

Where not just her silhouette is a dancer, but she is too.

somewhere she can be free, to do as she may please.

Freedom for more than just her heart, her soul and her silhouette,

she wants a shot at freedom, she wants a chance,

Freedom to live as she wishes, the freedom to dance...

The three on one battle..

"They say time is the best teacher. You never forget your lessons."
I, for one, choose to differ. I'd rather say "Life is the best teacher". Or even better, why not blame it on Fate. After all we all blame our miseries, our failures and our disappointments on either Time, Life or Fate. These hubristic villains mar our life with tragedy , misfortune and despair.

The most cruel of these taskmasters is Fate. He is an "acclaimed" sadist and a "renowned" misanthrope. Just when one begins to think that Life is fair and that Time is being good, Fate crawls surreptitiously behind you and the best-laid plans of mice and men often go astray. Fate has his own plans for each and every individual. You can hoodwink the sharpest of mortal men but you cannot deceive or defy Fate.

Life too has a dark sense of humour. You can spend a lifetime trying to understand the wicked and vicious ways of Life but you can never make head or tail of it. Life is not always fair. The book of Life has more irony than a Shakespeare play. Sometimes it's funny but sometimes the joke is on you. Life is simple, it's just not easy.

Men talk of killing Time, while Time quietly kills them. In reality, killing Time is only the name for another of the multifarious ways by which Time kills us. Time is the greatest and longest established schemer of all; his factory is a secret place, his work is noiseless, and his hands are mute. Time is the fire in which we burn.Time is the only thief we can't get justice against. Time makes fool of us again and again and laughs at his own joke.

Against such callous enemies one stands no chance of surviving. But there is one wise counselor who gives us the strength to endure all atrocities, withstand all ordeals and bear all pain. That wise counselor is Hope. It is a "three on one battle" with Hope on one side and Time, Fate and Life on the other.  And the battle continues.....

Boon in Disguise..

I tried to lock my feelings deep inside
The pain and anguish I attempted to hide
But a tormented heart is like art,
It's something with which you cannot part.

Misery and despair have consumed me,
Hope and happiness have abandoned me,
Fate seems to be laughing at me...
Smiling at the joke it has played on me

A wish,wished thousands of times,
that ended so abruptly,with lonely rhymes.
Failure is an experience,say men who are wise,
If it is true, then every failure is a "boon in disguise".

That thing called "Engineering"

"Engineers and Doctors are the foundation of the society."

Doctors healed the ailing and helped the suffering patients. Doctors were deemed as Gods during ancient times.

Engineers made human life easier with the help of machines. Engineers were also held in high esteem.

But now the scenario has changed and much more in case of engineers. It is no longer an exact science which it used to be. In fact, Engineering nowadays is the art of modelling materials we do not wholly understand, into shapes we cannot precisely analyze so as to withstand forces we cannot properly assess, in such a way that the public has no reason to suspect the extent of our ignorance.Engineering problems are under-defined, there are many solutions, good, bad and indifferent. The art is to arrive at a good solution. This is a creative activity, involving imagination, intuition and deliberate choice.

During ancient times if a builder built a house for a man and did not make its construction firm and the house collapsed causing the death of the owner of the house - that builder would be put to death. If it destroyed property, he would restore whatever it destroyed, and because he did not make the house firm he would rebuild the house which collapsed at his own expense. This was known as"The Code of Hammurabi". I read about this code in an article that emphasized on the "accountability" and "responsibility" of the Engineers and that precisely was what inspired me to write this small note.

"Accountability" and "Responsibility", both these have disappeared mysteriously from the dictionary of modern day engineers. Getting an engineering degree is almost as easy as getting bread from the bakery. Earlier engineering was a quest for knowledge, a desire for innovation and a charm for application, but now its all about money. Engineering standards have taken a big dip in the last decade and is rapidly going down. Considering the current trend it is only a matter of time when "that thing called engineering" will become extinct. It will remain as a word but will lose its meaning.

Sometimes the only thing you’re looking for, is the one thing you can’t see....

After a long interval I pick up my pen again (I should say keyboard) to write something. But I don't know why my thoughts are blocked and I'm unable to concentrate. What shall I write about? Surely there is no scarcity of topics. Friendship, life, books, the ongoing cricket world cup bla bla bla... And of course there is that evergreen 4 lettered word LOVE. I think I've written a lot along these lines and I don't want to be monotonous. So after thinking for only about 5-10 secs I've come to the conclusion that I will write whatever comes to my mind. Writing is my only stress buster.
Enough! I guess I've been beating about the bush. Half an hour ago I was standing on the terrace of my hostel and only one thought was bugging me. Am I satisfied with where my life is leading me to? I know I am the only person who can answer that but I honestly cannot answer that one question. I am nearing the end of my engineering career. I have a job. I know what I'll be doing in the next 3-4 years. Working, preparing for MBA, and once I complete my post grad again working. The same monotony, from which I now try to keep my blog free, will creep up again and this time in my life. Is that what I'm going to be doing all my life? Breaking my back to earn money. Sure enough money doesn't bring happiness though its something which can never be in abundance. I know anyone who reads this will recommend my name to a mental facility.
It's true that I appear to be very confused. I know I am searching for something. Something that brings meaning to my life. Some reason to break free from all shackles of sanity and self consciousness, to shun all rational thinking and becomes self-aware of my own existence. I had one such reason 2 years ago, but now I have none. There is a ray of light but it is very far from where I stand now.I've been looking all around for it but sometimes the only thing you’re looking for, is the one thing you can’t see. I seek refuge among books, I spend my time with friends, I enjoy myself to the brink, but the light eludes me. Lets see if can reach the end of the tunnel while the light lasts.