Late Night Disjointed Thoughts

Posted on 01 Feb 2017 under Random

The toll of midnight is but a few minutes away. The song loops on repeat. That stuttering, rhythmic beat goes well with the mood. We are barely out of winter, and already I feel summer creeping up, uninvited, sneaking in through the sweat I wake up in in the morning, in the warmth my thigh feels against my foot as I sit cross-legged in this bed, waiting for nothing to happen.

I look forward to the few hours of sleep.

Sleep … it’s like a lover with a  roofie. I look forward to the night, but the night goes by too soon, and when the morning arrives, I barely remember that I slept through the night, because it’s time to wake up, to get up and go to work, drive to the client’s office, take an interview or two, wishing I was somewhere else.

How nice it’d be to get away from everything. If I could find the courage to pack up and go, without telling anyone, to some place I’ve never been, find adventure or let it find me, find an answer (or a question), would I do it?

Maybe I’m not meant for it.

I used to think I’m insignificant and that the world will go existing after I’m done. With the events that have transpired globally, I wonder if I’ll outlive the world.

 

Expectations

Posted on 27 Jan 2017 under Journal/Life Updates

Quite some time back, I was told (or I read somewhere) that the best way to live your life is to have no expectations from life. Because the world owes you nothing. You did something nice for someone? Good for you, but that doesn’t mean something nice is going to happen to you in return. Perhaps everything that happens is a random act, and we get lucky (or unlucky) in what happens to us.

It’s horrible advice, because it’s no way to live. You trust your friends, you expect something (what a wonderful word that is … comes to the rescue of the average writer so frequently) from the people you love.

It’s also good advice, in a way. It means you’ll never be disappointed, because if you have zero expectations, the worst case scenario is that your expectations are met. Anything above that means your expectations have been exceeded.

But whatever kind of advice it is, it begs a question.

If I have no expectations from the world, then should the world have any expectations from me? If the world owes me nothing, then what do I owe the world? Why should I bother about anything? What difference will I make? More pertinently, what difference should I make?

I know this is a very cynical way of looking at things, and my intention with this post is in no way to encourage apathy and inaction. The world changes only because people care, and consequently, some of them act. Maybe, then, the only way to live is to expect. Yes, there will be the occasional disappointment, but c’est la vie.

 

Random Crappy Post

Posted on 21 Dec 2016 under Random

Been a while since I’ve listened to this song. The echoes of what I think is the guitar against a seemingly hollow vacuum. It reminds me of night, those nights. The details are hazy, like a lot of things from that time. We forget the details of our past and remember only some parts of it, those embellished by nostalgia.

I can’t even write properly. Feels like thoughts are incomplete in my head. Like these orphan sentences shouldn’t have been born at all.

I feel like this strange music is like a death-knell.

——

“Blue” (APC)

Resonance

Posted on 24 Nov 2016 under Journal/Life Updates

Does music enhance emotions or create them? I’ve had it do both at one time or another, but I don’t know have a definite answer to that question.

That being said, what I’ve experienced very frequently is that music greatly enhances the mood I’m in, especially when that mood is joyous (for lack of a better word) and the music is uplifting and pacy.

< Abruptly ending post because I lost my train of thought 🙁 >

Is Life Worth Living?

Posted on 21 Oct 2016 under Journal/Life Updates

As human beings, I believe we are programmed to exist, to survive against whatever life throws at us.

I was speaking to a friend of mine yesterday about the magic of music, and how I try not to judge others’ taste in music because I’ve seen others take as much enjoyment out of music I dislike as I do out of music I love. So who am I to judge, eh?

At some point, I think I made the hyperbolic statement, “I can’t live without music.”

Obviously, this is not literally true. Like I said, I believe human beings are programmed to survive. Heck, forget music. People have learnt to live without without far more important things in life — limbs, food, water … common sense, even. So, yes, you can (or rather, I can) live without music and without a lot of things.

But I suppose the question I’d ask is … would you want to?

What is it in life, losing which would make you wonder whether it’s worth being alive? I argue that for some musicians, whose life is their music, being unable to hear music or make music might give them cause to give up on life. I argue that for some sportspeople, retirement from the sport that was their life causes them to lose their sanity (I remember reading about footballers who, after retirement, took up a life of booze and drugs and died early and alone). And so, I suppose, to each his own.

As for me, I’m listening to old Offspring albums after a very long time, and I’m in love again.

The Wind of Change.

Posted on 06 Oct 2016 under Random

Dim the lights, let the soft glow of the corner lamp cast its addictive spell on me. Let the last song play, tired and sleepy from the speakers that look at us with no judgments.

Here I am, like I’ve been all this while, drifting, following the wind, listening to the words someone whispered a long time back that echo every now and then. They lose all meaning, until all that remains is the barest timbre of a voice.

Time drips like water from a leaky faucet. I can hear it every now and then, turning the pages of the calendar, turning the hands of the clock, making noise once in a while as if to clear its throat and announce its omnipresence.

The lamp begins to flicker, the music turns slowly into white noise, and darkness comes with its loving embrace.

There I was, where I’ve been all this while; goodbye, old friend, and thank you for your love. Until we meet again, I will ride the crest of the wind of change.

The Anchor

Posted on 18 Jul 2016 under Journal/Life Updates

I find myself caught between hating the anchor for keeping me from flying, and loving it for keeping me grounded and secure.

 

The Gamer

Posted on 23 May 2016 under Random

I’ve lived many lives,
Many times I’ve lived, loved, and died
And been reborn
Many places I’ve called home –
Masyaf, Persia, Rapture … Los Santos
I’ve killed and been killed
Sinned
I’ve made mistakes, and learnt
I’ve grown
I’ve been a legend and a legend killer
A killer of gods, a god myself
I’ve raised entire civilizations,
And razed many others…

The life of a gamer is never linear; we don’t go from Point A to Point B. We journey, criss-crossing across time periods and generations, wielding weapons and woe with equal ease. We have many lovers, all of whom are the loves of our lives. We’ve crawled to the depths of despair, and climbed the peaks of redemption.

And for ever, may it be so.

 

A View From The Window

Posted on 21 May 2016 under Random

In the dead of the night, when the major contributor to the ambient noise is silence, life goes on. Flights land on the not too distant runway. The street dogs are the kings of the road, inheriting this domain from the two- and four-wheeled metal monsters that claim dominance during the day. The clocks tick-tock as per freaking usual, reminding one that time waits for no one.

At midnight, as the hands of the clock pass the “12”, the date changes. A day has ended, and another has begun. The date changes … but everything else remains the same.

 

Book Review: Jangshersingh.com by Vishal Bhatia

Posted on 22 Apr 2016 under Essays

Disclaimer: I was contacted by the author through email to write a review of this book. I agreed. The book was delivered to me free of cost. No other conditions or constraints were placed on me.

Jangshersingh.com by Vishal Bhatia is the second book I’ve read recently written by a new/aspiring Indian author (the previous one being the atrociously bad The Recession Groom by Vani). This one is significantly better, but considering the low benchmark set by Vani, that’s not saying a lot. Ultimately, taken on its own, this is a book that starts off with a lot of promise, but becomes a bit of a mess by the end, mostly because of the terrible editing. It feels as if the editor received payment mid-way through the assignment and then just couldn’t be arsed to do a good job thereafter.

Credit must go to the author, though. There are a lot of aspiring authors in India, but very few actually successfully publish a book. The rest maintain boring blogs, write vignettes and review others’ books (hmm … that sounds familiar). Anyway, on with it.

Here’s the plot in a nutshell: Jangsher Singh, aged 15, tries to seduce a girl in a village in Punjab and gets caught by her brothers. In typical Punjab style, they hack and slash him and leave him for dead. But since all of this happens in only the first chapter, he survives and goes on to become India’s best tennis player ever, reaching the finale of the Australian Championship. There’s a parallel plot about two cousins, Aman and Yug, who drive a really expensive car that doesn’t belong to them. They cause an accident, get blackmailed by the accident survivor, and then a lot of other things happen (not getting into the details in order to avoid spoilers), as a result of which they have to figure out a way of making money fast. And the way they make that money is by creating an unofficial website for Jangsher (I think the name of the book comes from that website … which we’re only introduced to after getting through almost two-thirds of the book), and then selling it at a premium.

The plot is functional, in that it serves to get you from Point A to Point B, but it’s generally not very engrossing. All along, you know where you’re going, particularly with Jangsher’s story, which almost never goes off the beaten track. There are a few more twists in the side-story about the two cousins, and that adds some drama and spice to the plot. Characters generally react in a realistic manner to the events that unfold, and thus nothing feels jarringly out of place. Some parts are too long and boring (one tennis match is described in detail over almost 30 pages), there are a couple of passages that add absolutely no value whatsoever (like a couple of pages dedicated to Jangsher flirting with a random girl at a random party, before his drunk girlfriend appears to escort him away). One can make an argument that the novel could have used a bit of trimming to make it crisper.

Characterization is not bad.  I’m thankful for the consistency, even if the characters are somewhat uni-dimensional. Jangsher’s character is the only one that changes, going from being a strong, calm, unfazed fighter in the first few rounds of the championship to a damaged, pain-filled, hurting, emotionally-exhausted shell of a man who still manages to put up a good fight in the end. Yug and Aman enjoy a good dynamic with each other, complementing each other’s personalities. Other than the cousins, the other characters are forgettable. In fact, it almost feels as if Mr Bhatia almost forgot them too. Jang’s mother makes her first appearance on page 225 (out of 337 pages), a brief appearance necessitated by a plot element. She’s introduced thus: “Tina, his mother, blessed him as he knelt and touched her feet.

And then there are all the nicknames. Omaigod, WHY does everyone (and everything!) have to have a nickname? The tennis players that Jangsher plays against have nicknames that EVERYONE uses more than their real name, even in the dialogues. These are nicknames like “The Assassin” and “The Bull”. Heck, even the bloody sportscar that Aman and Yug almost lose is called “Flame”. Obviously, this is an attempt to raise some level of excitement or awe towards these characters. But personally, I found it fairly grating and cheesy.

And now, to the technicalities of writing: Vishal NARRATES way too much instead of letting us find out the story through the eyes of the protagonists. This doesn’t happen very frequently, but when it does, it feels lazy and unimaginative. However, this is made up by ambitious attempts at incorporating interesting metaphors and vivid descriptions. Sometimes, Vishal gets over-ambitious. The descriptions get into details of how engines work, how the brain works, etc. It feels a little clumsy and boring, which is a cardinal sin. The intention is positive, but it doesn’t always pay off.

Where the book fails massively is in the editing department, something that cannot be blamed on the author. The most basic mistakes appear here. Homophones (“your” vs. “you’re”), typos (“unthinkinkable”) and errors I don’t even know how to describe (“curtsied” instead of “court-side” … yes, I’m serious) appear multiple times, way too many times for any self-respecting editor to allow. It’s difficult to take seriously a book with such a low level of quality in the end-product. Bah.

In summary, Jangshersingh.com is a decent first book by a new author, and provides signs of encouragement. There are flaws, but the flaws are born of ambitious attempts at writing quality literature. If you can get past the unforgivable editing, the core of the book is not bad.

Rating: 3/5