Choices, mistakes and life....

All of us make mistakes. It is quite impossible for anyone to go through life without committing mistakes. What matters, is not what mistakes we make, or what it reflects about us/our nature,
what matters, is what those mistakes cost us. Sometimes, learning from a mistake is the only consolation one can get, but it continues to remain what it is meant to be; a consolation, just a feel-good factor, and then life moves on.
Each of us, have been faced with making difficult choices, at some point of time in our lives. What makes them difficult to choose from, is not what these choices represent, but the uncertainty that tags along with both of them. As we walk down the road we chose, we learn that it becomes impossible to retrace our steps, not due to any lack of opportunities, but because, each road leads on to something new, by the time we look back , we realise that too many paths have crossed. To undo them, would take more from us, than proceeding down the road we chose, once upon a time.
And eventually, it is these choices, that determine, who we are and what we are looked upon as. Which is a pity, considering the gamble that we were forced to play initially.
Fortunately for me, I am, happy with the journey so far. Problems have cropped in here and there, but looking at the larger picture, what matters is i am content with how far i have come.
But what i fear now, is not having to make these choices, but being thrust with accepting what the plate has to offer. And none of these sides is greener than the other. the biggest lesson i have learnt from life so far, is that life is fair to all. We all lose and we all win. unfortunately, its our expectations that eventually categorizes our victory and loss. And having said that, I have my own fair share of aspirations. I fear that the delicate thread that connects my present, and the future I have always dreamt off, will be cut off, in a span of few minutes. Unfortunately, working for the future, and living my dream has inter-twined so much with my identity, that I fear I would be shattered. I know that life would move on, but in most cases the past catches up.
Reconciliation is not a way out, somewhere down the line, I must acknowledge, under what terms I have lost and under what terms I have emerged the winner. these terms donot juxtapose under any circumstances. So i will never know, winning under which one of these terms, would have made me happier.
In any case, I alone lose and I alone win, everyone else, even those who genuinely love us, remain mere spectators. But what hurts the most, is that no one, absolutely no one, can understand this fear. Eventually, life has a way of showing you, what singular can mean in the real context. Those who love you, dream along with you, but it started with you, and you alone will endure the loss. Shoulders are always offered to cry upon, but no amount of tears can erase what has been written on the score card.
Eventually those who love you, are reduced to witnesses of what you go through, and you remain the sole recipient of life's blows (and ofcourse kisses!). What I mean to say, is that your experiences, remain your own, sharing does not lessen its impact on you. No two people, travel the same path, even if they travel together. Individuality always prevails. And the why's and the how's of this is something I have no answer to.

Sometimes life blossoms in the most unlikely places. Sometimes, actually in most cases, life does not originate with the birth of the person. I think it comes and goes in spurts, in the form of those fleeting moments that pass as quickly as they come by. And then you are just left with those memories.
And so, as i said, my rendevouz with life occured in a cemetry, with no witnesses but myself and ofcourse, the dead. She was there, right beside the huge banyan tree, small, but noticeable; well atleast to my eyes. For me, the banyan tree was like a refuge, with its open, ever-embracing arms - its cool soothing shade, with just a few streaks of warm sunlight, that were permitted to penetrate through the thick foliage of leaves. I often sat beneath it, to collect my thoughts, and let them wander, to some place far and distant, with no constraints of time, nothing to care for...
And that was when my gaze fell upon her, new to this world and her ways, inexperienced, unassuming, and ofcourse, a very subtle shade of pink. She was not very conspicuous, but that was because she blended so well in the surroudings, another traveller like me, just sitting down for a bit, to see the world and all her people rushing by, afraid to stop, not because they would be left behind, but afraid of their loneliness, of all those thoughts that tend to furtively seep in, when you have nothing to do, yet you know that by moving on, you would not accomplish anymore than you already have, as long as you keep the why's and how's submerged beneath the confident surface.
As i looked down at her, i knew, we would be travelling together from now on, and in the gentle breeze, she gradually bent towards me, as if hesitantly offering her hand of friendship, and in that instant, I knew we understood each other. As i look back on this moment, I realise there was no witness to this special bond, and yet, there was the banyan tree. Its over-bearing long trunks peering right over us, its very presence infusing reality into the commencement of this relationship, and for once, the silence that surrounded us, bridged us, strengthening, rather than mitigating the lapse of communication.
We would meet every sunday, under the watchful gaze of the banyan tree, and time froze in her presence and yet, it felt like i was leading two different lives; constantly waging a war with time, on all those sundays, trying to grab as much time as possible from its clutches. The second time I had gone to meet her, I took a single rose with me. I obviously had not bought it. Of what use was a rose for our non-verbal relationship. I had found it lying along the road side. Somehow it caught my attention due to the strong smell and i decided to take it to the banyan.
And one fine day, all of a sudden, the roots of our relation were shaken up; the banyan tree was struck down, leaving me the entire responsibility of taking care of her. Actually, that was not my foremost concern. The banyan tree was more than just a witness, it was like a place of solace, there was something about its comforting cool ground, a comfort that couldnot be afforded by any emollient. It was as if the roots would reach out to me, and absorb all my problems, and the shade would somehow cleanse me, it was refreshing and rejuvenating. I would then stand up to leave after a few hours, ready to start the next week.
With the loss of the banyan tree, I was afraid, the essence of our relationship would be uprooted too. There was a huge void left, where those long arms bound us together, we were wrapped in oblivion then.
As if this were not enough, the scorching sunlight, began to burn her, it was symbolic of the harsh reality lashing out at us, and thats when i noticed, how far we had come. Somehow i never noticed how quickly she had blossomed, and grown out of it too. Now her youth was a thing of the past, leaving behind its shadows. Her beauty now came across to me as serene and yet there was a certain impish touch to it, that gleam which shun from her, as we thought of this relationship and how it began, hidden from society's eyes.
Gradually I became aware of the impending fork in the road. I knew i had to let her go, to where ever it was she was going. I would eventually go there too, but somehow the journey seemed so long without her, that I didn't think I could make it. Was this love? I didn't know. I didn't want to know. So at the end of it, I too had to move on with memories, like all others. Why do all good things feel ephemeral? I knew the answers, but somehow, in the absence of the banyan tree, these very answers failed to soothe me. And the silence now ,only wedged between us, i implored her to say something, but i knew that words would only tarnish the beauty of our relationship, reducing it to something that could only be seen and heard, never felt. So I retreated back into silence. When I could not bear the silence anymore, I stopped meeting her, though I knew she would always be waiting for me, no matter how much time i took to understand. I too began to move ahead like the rest of them. But life was never the same. and i did not want to accept this. Some where along the way, i had started making demands, started to expect that what i dreamt would definitely take form, turning a blind eye to the fact that my life lay in each of those moments i spent with her.
As time took its toll on me as well, i decided to go back there, one last time. I think i needed to reassure myself that she was no longer there, but there was this small nagging hope that she would still be there, waiting for me, with no questions, as always. And this time, I bought a single rose. I donot know why i did it. But it was on an impulse.
As i reached the cemetry, i saw that things had not changed a bit, atleast the things that didnot matter. There was still that empty disconcerting spot, reminiscent of the fact that I felt the same. nothing could possibly fill the void. There was no point in even trying. I held the rose tightly, as if that was the only thread of connection between the present and the past. The same thread, began to pull me towards the vacant spot. I decided that the longer I spent, the harder it would be leave the place with its memories. I left the rose on the ground and quickly left without a second glance.
On the way back, I decided to take a different route this time, after all, there were no longer any shackles now, I was my own master and servant. I sat down by the river side and splashed some water on my face. As i did this, the fragarance of the rose i had just left behind, emanated from my hands. Irrespective of the number of ablutions, the fragrance still clung to my hands.
And it was then that the realisation dawned on me that, i had no control over certain things in life, i may not even have control over where i eventually end up, our paths may not have converged, our final destinations may never coincide, but what i did have a control over, was what i felt for her. i still did not know what love was, but my feelings for her were eternal, love is just a name we give, may be for convinience sake. But those feelings only deepened with the passage of time, they gradually made me return to where life actually came into being (for me). I have lost the rose, may be for ever, she could be picked up by someone else now, and thereby get passed on from one to another, but the fragrance still clung to my hands. My feelings did arise with her, the banyan, the breeze and the silence, bearing witness to this, but it was not something that was given to me, it was something that arose within and will remain a part of me till i perish. She is a memory, but what i feel for her, continues to grow with me. I have stopped searching for her, have stopped yearning for her.
I have learnt to live those moments again, though the intermittent gaps between them keeps growing, i know that what is within me, may continue to exist after i have gone....somewhere a banyan still breathes, with its protective arms still awaiting my visit, the gentle breeze slowly causes her to bend, slight, ever so slight, that i must rush, rush to her offer of friendship.....

sex

"sex".... not a particularly catchy title for a blog isnt it? atleast not in the positive connotation ;)
its generally looked upon, as something hushed up within the four walls of a bedroom, in most traditional indian families. but, the world changes, people change, what used to be, never is.
and then came something condemnable, something not spoken of in any august occasion, something elders say is a shame to the inherent goodness in any man.....prostitution.

Prostitutes - a living example of the fact that there are two sides to a story, the other side of the "happily ever after"... rather "happily never after". I think prostitutes are one of the few classes of people looked upon differently by different people. To an old man, who after faithfully serving his wife for thirty years is now on his death bed, prostitution is one of those sins, rather the only sin that completely demolishes a soul, denigrates it to such an extent, that no amount of penitence can bring back your dignity. To a middle aged married man, who appears to head a perfectly happy family, the prostitute would be an option, probably the last, but definitely an option, that would fulfil his needs, without asundering his family. It is like a one time down payment, quickly accomplished and forgotten. To the philosophers and writers, prostitutes have always been an enigma, their very presence serves to taint the divinity of sex, and hence, very often their living, has centered many discussions, controversies on what sex really is, if it is solely meant to be purposeful or something more?

Prostitutes unfortunately fall in that grey area no one wants to fray into. Its easier to segregate life and everyone in it, into white and black isnt it? No questions asked and hence none remain unanswered.
All I want to attempt to do right now is to just take a peep into that grey area, not to see the rights and wrongs of it, but the undercurrent of life that prevails in them. I have read a few articles, and heard several debates about the spiritual aspect of sex - the ultimate pleasure that comes out of the unison of two souls. Being a scientist, to me it is awe-inspiring that such a simple physical act, can generate "life", in one of its simplest, yet most amazing forms- a single cell, the zygote! How the zygote turns into one of the most complex organisms in the entire animal kingdom is yet another story. But this generation of life, in as little time as a few milliseconds, continues to intrigue me, as it is the only life-generating natural processes man goes through in his lifecycle. Rather not just man, any animal. The creation of new life, life that is going to persist, prevail and perpetuate. The capabilities of the human mind, never fail to surprise me, they seem to be rising with every passing day, but in my opinion, nothing can equal the creation of new life, cells capable of self-replication, blooming into a fully developed mature individual. And then one day, you look back, and you say.. ahh did i make that?!! whatever be the quality of the final product, a certain amount of pride is always part of the resultant emotion isnt it? And so it is not surprising that, such a physical act, that adds on a new dimension to life, should be made use of as a trade, something that can be bought and sold. It is reduced to a mere commodity, that often comes cheap, depending on the circumstances.
It definitely leaves a bitter feeling isnt it. In fact the mere thought of this invokes such a stinging bitterness, that am convinced, it cannot escape those very much involved in perpetrating the act. Sometimes I think, all of us have it in us to commit mistakes, culpable, severely punishable, and it boils down to just how much each of us are pushed beyond the edge, when we loose all discretion, and just do the things that seem to serve as a vent for our frustrations and depressions. always living to regret it. sometimes the things that push us, are expectations, sometimes its our own dreams, sometimes its the realisation that some else is going to make it faster than you, and sometimes its just the need to live, to get enough money to feed yourself, so that you can wake up the next day, and be a part of the living world, that unfortunately continues to move on, irrespective of whether you move with it or not.
I have seldom heard people mention this, but prostitution isnt a decision, it isnt a choice, well even if it is, its a very unbalanced choice between living and dying, how you choose to earn a living, is obviously secondary to the fact that you actually want to live.
And when buyers exist, the commodity never ceases to perish. What gives rise to these buyers is an entirely different issue, but what matters is they exist and hence the demand. Its like a circle, no beginning and no end. But society is definitely a part of their existence. To most people, sex(apart from the spiritual aspect of it) is a source of a euphoric intoxicating pleasure. But when the same sex, serves to be a reason for some ones existence, it is condemned. I am quite convinced this argument has logical fallacies.
Its so much more easier to condemn the black sheep than accept them as part of the herd and move on, isnt it?
Yes these are people who have fallen between the cracks, they are trampled, their weaknesses made use of, and opportunites that could have been helpful to them, ceased.
i wonder what society has to say?

happiness

I am currently reading paul coelho's eleven minutes. I have just begun, and already, there are questions in my mind, and since its a warm sunday morning, what better way to kick start the day, than sit with a cup of hot coffee, and take a leisurely mental walk :)

And by the way, I would really like to find a better way of making double cream coffee, if its not satisfactorily made, you not only end up having a bad "kaapi day", but your "weight" conscience snaps you out of your senses, to give you an early morning briefing on how much you have grown sideways!.... while if the coffee satiates you, it takes you to a different realm, where you only meet people with a similar taste for kaapi, and u seldom take your conscience with you to this realm!

And so thee sits to pen down thee thoughts :D
happiness... I know what it is, it is this feeling of joy that wells up in you, and you feel carefree, to a certain extent; insouciant, everyone is good (atleast most of them!), in short, the world is beautiful. All your worries and tensions drain out of you, and you feel like a child again, blithely skipping down the road, with the wind hitting your face, no one or nothing can affect you now.
But i must mention, that everyone when feeling happy will definitely have an answer when posed with the reason for their happiness. That is one of the few questions in life that never goes unanswered!. But I was wondering if such a thing as an absolute happiness ever exists? Can I be happy and not have a reason? not assosiate my happiness with any thing living or dead, with any dreams, fulfilled or abandoned? In a nutshell, can I be happy and not have an answer to why I am so? I have never come across such an individual nor have I felt this way. For I feel that this is the kind of happiness that would be everlasting, nothing or noone could snatch it away from you.... its not fettered to anything or anyone in this world, so the question of it being evanescent doesnot arise, for everything connected to this world is evanescent isnt it?

All of us in a way are manacled. some to our dreams, some to our past and some to our future.
in fact, i donot blame this entirely on us, for life is short, unpredictable, so planning for the future is imperative. And no one can move on without having a dream, a purpose. But in that case, as coelho points out, you would be living your future, not the present. infact due to the unpredictability of life in general, all of us are living our future, clinging on to our dreams, they are like the compass that propel the lone ship in the sea, giving it a sense of direction.
And so coming back to our happiness, it is not surprising, that happiness brings along with it, its own baggages.

Coming to think of it, such a simple thing like happiness, is so delusive, it is like the sun, hiding behind the clouds on a very gloomy day. You never know how long the sun is going to shine down on you, and when it is going to back into hiding! This doesnt mean to say that I exhaust all my happiness pondering over how long it is going to exist..

But sometimes I feel that there is no such thing as happiness, it is just a feeling that pervades us, like a mirage in the vast expanse of a desert, to a fatigued traveller, the mirage is a new hope, in fact the mere sight of a mirage a few kilometers away resuscitates him, he moves on with a new pace, but alas!, he realises he can never close down on the pool of water, it remains a vision, the distance to which remains constant with time, but even though the realisation dawns on him, he pushes it back, realising that "knowing" would not keep him alive at this stage. The vision howevevr uncanonical it is, now becomes a part of him, it moves ahead when he moves, and stops when he stops.

pedagogy

In life I am fortunate to have been taught by a variety of teachers thereby exposing myself to variegated forms of teaching. This is self-explanatory of the fact that it would be unfair to rank these various forms of teaching without being unjust to either of them.

But there are two main teachers well-etched in my memory - Professor Nagaraj of Vivekananda College and my music teacher Mrs.Jaya Kalidas. Nagarajan Sir introduced me to chemistry, and since then there has been no looking back, while Jaya aunty brought music into my life, it was like a breath of fresh air, that was eternally rejuvenating and replenishing. But both of these two highly influential individuals had two very contrasting ways of going about their teachings.

I clearly remember, my first rendevouz with Sir. It was a sunday evening at 7 pm when myself and my parents went over to his place, to express my desire of coming under his tutelage for a period of 2 yrs. The first question he asked me was why i liked chemistry followed by why i thought i need his guidance. I dont think I sounded very convincing in my answers as i said something cliched like, my chemistry fundamentals werent cleared etc. But nevertheless, my first lesson was to be held on the succeding day. Unlike most teachers who start off with their first lessons, Sir just gave two problems to solve and sat down next to me with his "times of India" crossword. I was wondering if this was one of those trick tests to assess my depth of understanding, and this thought didnot do anything to alleviate my nervousness. Furthermore, while I was figuring out the methodology, Sir would quietly steal a glance into my rough work. I managed to figure out the answers, and to my surprise, the first question put to me by Sir was not "what is the answer" but why did I choose to solve the question the way I did, and if there was any other way i could think off. We had a brain storming session and most of the classes were a two way discussion rather than the usual didactic lectures. I think this is a perfect example of learning blended with fun. But what really appealed to me was that , even though most questions had one correct answer, what sir looked for, was the undercurrent of thought that went into solving those problems, each problem could be done in several ways, and this inturn provided an insight into each student and his reasons for choosing one method over the other. Sir never led us by the hand if you get what i mean. In a way we taught ourselves, with sir constantly watching over us. To sir, learning was a process where in he just served as a catalyst, never as the judge. Rights and Wrongs were not laid emphasis on, rather, the focus was on learning something new each day. Each student had a different approach, a different way of trying to understand the same concept or theorem, and it was these perspectives that were given importance to. We would be given a problem underlyin a theorem we had never heard of, and at the end of the session, the theorem would be presented to us. The teaching was not only application oriented, I think it was tweaked to suit every individual. Intellectual freedom was abundant in his classes, and that is what still keeps me in awe of Sir.

Jaya aunty was a complete contrast. In all her classes, we would always be first taught the correct and appropriate way to sing a particular note, the method that has always been followed conventionally. We were only occasionally allowed to improvise. The emphasis was laid on learning music the way it has always been sung. Ofcourse this is also subject to the fact that, in order to improvise on the notes, we needed to have learnt enough and mastered the original peice. We were given detailed explanations about the history of each peice and why it has got to be sung in that particular manner. We were, in other words, led by the hand. And by saying this, I donot mean to degrade this particular method of pedagogy, for as I said before, what I have picked up from Jaya aunty, I could have picked up from no other. She was undoubtedly as special and gifted teacher and I am proud to have learnt music from her.

But having said that, I must add that good teachers are very hard to find, for teaching is an art, more than a skill, it may arise out of practise, experience definitely has a role to play, but without a flair for teaching, the teacher will simply serve to be a knowledge provider. nothing else.

at times, i am amazed by the speed with which life passes by without you even catching a hint of its passing. The death of a relative, india's victory in a match, the dreaded exam results, one of the quickest - holidays ! no one can explain how the night before the exam just ambles by, clinging to your shadow, while the summer vacation just zooms past you.
when i look back at some moments, moments which i would not say i took for granted, but which i just lived by, quite unaware of how quickly they would leave me, i wonder if i could bring them back. Would i want them back, given another chance? At the first instance, i would jump at such a choice, but them, i may after all want to move on, may want to know wats coming across the bend in the road, and not go back the same way i came. As the same moments, a second time, may pass even more quickly.
What I would want to carry with me, are those memories, good or bad, the anxiety at its peak just before my eyes find my roll no. in the exam results, the relief that there is someone to open the door for you at home, so you could rest your worn out feet on the table while hot coffee is being served.
Now i come back to an empty house, actually home, :)... i look at the gas stove, the one that was being stretched to its max limit possible due to all the rigorous cookin the last two months, i look back at the time when I went to the airport, to pick up...
and then, i look at my empty coffee cup at the window sill, realise, i am going to have to wash it..
life moves on.. doesnt it?

There come moments in life, when all you are left with, are questions. Questions that cannot be answered, those kind of questions that snap you out of reality, questions that not only make you think, but also look at life as an outsider. You see yourself walking, rather hurrying to the lab, worrying about your experiment, hoping against hope that it has atleast gone to a 40 % yield (atleast the 5 th time you set it up).... Sometimes, there is no emotion or feeling to describe what I feel, the undercurrent of thoughts flowing in my head, its not dejection, nor boredom, I would not even call it one of those philo moods. I am sure all of us have these moments, that pass by as suddenly as they come, and we are left wondering what we are doing whiling away time, and quickly put these moments behind us and get to "work".
I too have these moments, they generally come when i stand gazing at dusk, outside my window at the highway lights a few miles away, just when the contours of Leeds fade into the dimming light.
Sumtimes I wonder how it would have been if I were at the other side of those lights, the dark side of life. I wonder what people who are at the other side actually feel like, the so called outcasts, out-laws. What is life for them? Sumtimes, society pushes a person to such an extent that he's forced to retaliate, against the rising tide, and ceases to "belong". The picture is painted in even darker shades when he openly declares his indifference to society and her ways. But there are also cases where in the person is just born in the other side, for no fault of his/her. In fact it takes them a while to realise that they are meant to be the benchwarmers, like the watery trail of milk thats left behind, constantly reminding us, of what could happen if we are left behind in the race. These people then, either passively accept there "fate", some even go to the extent of using it to evoke sympathy, while some, fight back. There is also a lot that just fades away; unnoticed. Sometimes I donot know to which of these I belong.
At this point I must mention a particular instance I read in the book " a thousand suns" by dominique lapierre. The jailer is leading the criminal to the electric chair. He clamps the criminal to the chair and is just about to turn his back, when he catches a glimpse of the person's eyes. What he sees forces his to stop and ponder for a moment, questions his faith in his job, the entire judicial system. In those eyes, he doesnot see a confession, nor a refusal of the commited crime, no guilt nor a resignation. He sees eyes that smile back at him, not laugh, just a subtle smile, a smile that tells him, that beyond a certain point, none of us care. In fact, he would have confessed the crime, had it made you feel happier, he may even do the contrary, to satisfy his attorney. The point is, he doesnot care. To him it is immaterial which side he belongs, whether he belongs or not. A small doubt creeps into the jailer's mind. The system definitely has loop holes. But what it has done, is to take away a person's life, forcefully place him in a role he may or may not be worthy of (punishment), making a caricature out of him, pushing him through the cracks, and blaming him of having fallen between them.

Unfortunately, the moment has passed. I no longer know what i mean, so donot ask me! but......
am sure there are more to come....

the courage to accept things we cannot control, the courage to fight the things we can control, and the wisdom to distinguish between the two!........ - welcome to the "rabbi" me!

this question has always been there in my mind, sumtimes not at the top of my mind, but hidden sumwhere deep down beneath its conscious workings.
Does the means to acheive an end matter at all? When something good is being done by adopting the wrong means , does it leave any doubts about the intentions? Do the ends always justify the means? The gandhian principles may not apply in today's contenxt, so to correct the twisted, we may have to distort ours ways to a certain extent. But what is this extent? This justifies our means in a highly self-centered and short-sighted society. But I am somehow not convinced by this line of reasoning. Where does the difference between the right and the wrong lie then, if both follow the same/similar means to acheive their ends? After all, the ends being good and bad is only relative, there is nothing right or wrong in this world in the absolute sense.
I have no answers to this intriguing question. For now, am just going to take off from this world while listening to "you don't see" by pussy cat dolls!

I hate having things unanswered, leaving things incomplete, especially in the lab and ofcourse in retrosynthetic analysis. Today I dissected a mechanism for annulation of a dicyanide penta ring, in the presence of a tertiary butoxide preceeding the addition of phosphoric acid. But there are still questions in my mind. I wonder why the reaction as deslongchamps points out, goes via an enamino-nitrile intermediate. Ofcourse I have managed to convince myself of the possibility of this happening. But I wonder if this happens every time, or just this once due to the presence of the tertiary butoxide....

Imagine two people- Ram and Shyam. Both are in their early twenties, living life like any ordinary person, one moment loving it, another, wondering why the grass is greener on the other side. Lets present them in two different situations. Ram pays a visit to the doctor one day with an unsuspecting stomach ailment that turns into a dreaded stomach cancer. He's left counting days. While lets spare shyam of this deadly curse, rather lets assume we know that shyam doesnt live any longer than Ram, even though he is not given any kind of hint about his impending death. So Ram and Shyam die at the same age, but do their lives remain the same anymore?. Shyam-yes, but what about Ram? Poor Ram is intrinsically dying each day. I donot remember where I read this, but when a man is just about to die, the scene of his entire life passes before his eyes. And this very well describes Ram's thoughts and feelings now.

But why this sudden difference in their perspectives? Just knowing when we are exactly about to stop breathing or how many days we have left, makes so much of a difference... this thought never struck me till now! But ironically speaking, it helps us to live every moment of our life (atleast those remaining days) to the fullest. Yes Ram is miserable, he thinks some kind of injustice has been done to him, he experiences immense pain, but amidst all this, he learns to live, appreciating even the smallest things in life. I donot want to sound like a rabbi, but if any of us were in his shoes, wouldnot we want to make the best of what we have left? Isn't that natural? While Shyam lives each passing day like any other day, not realising that this may be the only chance he gets to live life as "shyam"!
I donot intend to turn tonight's blog into a chapter on why life is precious ( in fact I myself dismiss this with a shrug, if someone tells me the same), but I was just wondering how it would be if we all of us came to know how many days we have left. Would it help? or would life turn into a living hell?

Freedom. It means different things to different people. some prefer not to move out of their circle of comfort, and some cannot, even if they are willing to explore. seldom do we realise the cost we pay for a dearth or an insufficient degree of freedom. And when we do, its either too late or too difficult to make a beginning. When we are suddenly thrust with the choice to do what we want to or the breathing space to commit mistakes with out questions being raised, we feel uncomforable, as if we have been punished, and our usually organised and predictable life has come to a stand still. Freedom comes with responsibilites. When people are not permitted to take responsibility for their actions over a period of time, they begin to slowly cringe from choosing to be responsible for anything small or big. Ofcourse there lines to be drawn for every choice we make, there is a upper limit for every decision we take. As and when we start being responsible for our actions, these limits inherently become a part of our actions. I feel that decision making is one of those few things in life that can never be taught to us. It is only learnt in two ways, one is to become a conscious part of the decision making process, another is by looking around us, learning from others. But there is no better teacher than experience.

As life moves on, we slowly begin to realise that one of our most treasured and handy attributes is the ability to make rational decisions, with out fearing whether they are right or wrong. Having the courage to face the music stems from our confidence as an individual.

A pity lots of people are yet to celebrate their indenpendence day!

sometimes i wonder how relationships work? I have a very cynical attitude towards the inter-personal relationship mumbo-jumbo which most of the relationship experts claim they have understood crystal clear. Sometimes I feel even the strongest will power can not make a relationship click. Ofocurse the fact that you have to try too hard, says a lot of things. On the other hand, nothing is perfect; there are miniature cracks even in the most magnificiently constructed artifacts. Just because they cannot be seen, doesnot mean they donot exist.
I have a fridge door magnet that says "dont try to understand me, just love me". I find that so contradictory. I donot believe in blind love. Yeah i know it does exist, and there is nothing to be judgemental about it. But I would prefer to understand the person whom i love if not completely, atleast a little bit, to ensure that my love is more conscious and driven by my will to love him/her, than just another emotion that i feel for them. sometimes attitudes are not compatible, sometimes outlooks/perspectives aren't and sometimes there is no rhyme or reason. But ultimately, when it becomes impossible to understand another, or the rationality behind their actions or behaviour, loving them becomes difficult. Or ironically, it is still possible to continue loving them, but liking them or sharing yourself with them is impossible. I know a lot of people who love each other, but when it comes to knowing each other, they are as peplexed as the famous hen/egg paradox! There is an ocean of difference between loving and or liking a person, very few are aware of this. Though ideally speaking, when u love each other, you share everything amongst one another, the gaps get bridged. But this seldom happens. Loving and closeness with a person are often mixed. When i love a person and when I am close with one, I mean different things. But ofcourse then the question that automaticaly stems from this is what the origin of love is, or rather what love is. The base line is i have no clue! But I know what it means at a comparitive scale when you love a person and when you like them or may be I don't.
These are things which ui have observed, but obviously everyone has a different story to tell dont they!

i am by nature skeptical about the existence of god as i feel that something that is not based on rational facts and reason can neither be proved nor disproved. But ofcourse there are sects that try to reason this out by using the existence of the clustral series of stones found underwater linking the lanka and kanyakumari, as a proof of Lord Ram's voyage to lanka.
But wasn't history written by man himself?!
But then sometimes i wonder what the whole purpose of religion is? I think its something beyond uniting people, upholding the existence of god or a means to endeavour for the "good" in each one of us. Sometimes i think, its just the underlying faith, that propels the whole notion - amidst the hullabaloo created by various religious sects, this fundamental thread of keeping faith alive in each one of us, gets lost. When there's nothing in life to look forward to , when nothing seems appealing enough to move on, when each step is taken with the utmost pain, its this faith that keeps us alive, because at times, thats the only thing left to cling on to. The faith that hard work always pays, that good always begets good, and finally, its definitely going to rain tomorrow and the exam's going to be postponed..!
The 8 yr old who sits outside her verandah every wednesday waiting for the ice cream vendor to come, the ardent cricket fan who doesnot miss a single over of sachin, afraid he may miss a magnificient four or six, the 25 yr old who believes that she wil definitely earn a phd in another 2 yrs (ok thats not me:P), the 40 yr old who waits every sunday for a bed tea, but finds herself, opening her eyes to a blissfully asleep husband....isnt all this faith?
The belief that there is a supernatural force called God who is the puppet master, is also one such faith. Till now in my life, I have not come across any such person who hasn't had faith in anything. Even those who live life for the moment, "believe" that each moment is countless and hence needs to be lived to the fullest .
And when you look at it this way, it seems ridiculous to fight over one's faith or belief! I donot necessarily like to think the way you think and vice versa, so why should I be hell bent on making you believe in what i believe? When it is so difficult for thoughts to match, is it reasonable to expect faiths or beliefs to be uniform all over?
appalling!!

I have been reading "letters to lily", and saw a movie today. I realise that each of us live life on our own terms and problems arise when we try to set the same standards for others which we set for ourselves. Unfortunately the game all of us play is the same, but the rules we each abide by are different, and this is the root cause of clashes. But how will we live as a society if there are no common standards?, isnt a certain minimal amount of similarity necessary for people to live together? Who sets the rules? Are there always Rights and Wrongs? Again dont they vary with the rules which each one follows? I think, that even the judicial system has its own boundaries, and sometimes the judge's seat remains unoccupied. In some cases it can be replaced by our conscience, but that doesnt that end up being again restricted to an individual? I donot think there are any universal Rights and Wrongs. i think each one of us live in a world of our own. The reason we are living together, is that it so happens, that our worlds actually exist at the same time( I donot say co-exist!). But unfortunately being humans, and having the power to think and feel, we cannot stop ourself from looking at everything and everyone with the same reading frames. And neither does the human mind rest until it has clearly segregated the colors of white and black. Yes grey shades do exist, but does anything actually fall under this category?, do we want to place anything at all under this? Is it wrong to be undecided about things? At any point of time in our lives, can any of us say with conviction that " I am what I am".
I donot think so, for the simple reason, all of us have these little "me's" in us which display themselves at different times, situations and circumstances in our lives. And none of us is aware of this until this "me " actually pops up, that "hey thats actually me!". But there are some of us also who are the same, eternally, who donot find or get a circumstance, situation / opportunity to get away from what we have been all this while. And no one knows this, neither us nor anyone. Some of us may be aware of it, but keep it tethered somewhere deep inside, in abidance to the rules, for some its tethered for so long, that it ceases to exist... isnt that a pity?!