Thought Overflow

There are many reasons to detest music, or certain kinds of music. For example, you could hate rap for its lyrics, for the wannabe gangsta attitude. You could look condescendingly upon pop music because it’s just so crass, it follows such a formula, and it sounds like it almost requires no talent. Anti-metalheads claim that hard rock or heavy metal is all about just banging things around.

But there’s only one kind of music I dislike. That, which, on a Monday morning, makes you wish you could get in the car and drive away to anywhere rather than drive to work.

FC Kahuna – Hayling

(The purpose of that link is for you to click on it and then go listen to that track)

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Come away with me, let’s go to a far off place, where all we can see, for miles and miles, is the green of grass, the blue of sky and the white of clouds. Let’s lay beneath a tree, allowing its gentle shade to shield our eyes from the sun’s brilliant golden rays. We’ll lie side by side, arms brushing against each other, fingertips intertwined. Allow the gentle breeze to blow strands of your hair on your face, and allow me to push them away from your eyes. We’ll share music, looking up into the azure, imagining stories in the shapes of the clouds. I’ll ask you to describe what the music makes you think of, how it makes you feel, and I’ll smile when I feel the same way, or see the same things you do. Hold my hand, put your head on my shoulder, and let’s lie here in bliss until the sun’s crepuscular rays begin to fade, and the sky begins to turn red and purple.

Come away with me…

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Dear You,

First off, I have to say that I think you have great hair. Ok, well, you had great hair, I haven’t seen you in a while, so I don’t know if you still have great hair.

The other day, you said that we’ve been friends for 12 years. Wow! That’s freaky! When the hell did we get so old? It’s freaky to think that I even know someone for that long!

Most friendships go up and down (no pun intended), but I think we’ve been at a steady, constant level of friendship. I can’t recall ever having fought with you, over anything, ever. That’s rather odd, don’t you think?

I do remember that I used to be able to make you lol, literally. I loved the sound of your laughter, it sounds so hearty. In fact, I really like your voice. I’m not sure I ever told you that.

Ok, to be perfectly honest, I didn’t think I’d actually write this post. It makes no sense, and most people reading would probably wonder who you are. And I can bet you a lot of them would think that I’m in love with you or something. Besides, why else would someone write a blog post about another person without naming them and writing good things about them. Especially on a blog that simultaneously gets published to Facebook. Eh?

Because I thought that while writing about you, I’d remember something interesting from the past. Like the first time we hugged (and your boyfriend was impressed that I hugged you in front of him), or the time when we were chatting online and you’d burst into laughter every time I typed smiley. Or just the memory of the times I spent a lot of my dad’s money on the phone bill talking to you.

So, to you, a toast. Thanks for being a friend, and tonight, an inspiration.

PS: Oh yes, since you mentioned, I love mangoes. They taste nice, smell wonderful, and have an interesting shape.

PPS: Oh, and this is probably something only you will get. Jelly. That is all.

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On a quiet Sunday evening, I sit in my living room, curtains drawn, lights not switched on. It’s just slowly beginning to become dark, my laptop screen standing out as a wall of light, and the TV in the background broadcasting Aston Villa vs. Liverpool (Villa leading 1-0 as of the 33^rd minute).

I’ve just driven down from Pune a couple of hours ago, a 170+ km journey completed in ~4 hours. I have no plans for the evening. There’s commentary on the TV and the sound of the evening birds outside my window. Life, like a clock, is ticking on. I think dully about the Monday tomorrow, and the work that needs to be done tonight to survive it.

The world has nothing to offer me today but the mundane tasks that make up life.

I think my mood would best be described by this song by Dirty Vegas. Go listen to it. In a quiet spot. It’s a great song for contemplation.

Dirty Vegas – Days Go By (Acoustic)

PS: Upon further research, I realised that that version’s not by Dirty Vegas. It’s a cover by someone else. It’s still brilliant.

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Sometimes when I listen to a fantastic piece of music, I wonder who I can share it with. I picture not only the perfect person to experience it with, but also the perfect situation and the perfect place. In a lot of cases, I’ve come to realise that it matters not who is with me, as long as it’s someone who can appreciate good music. But the ‘where’ is frequently the same…

How I wish I could find a safe, quiet, untouched piece of land where I could drive up and lie on the bonnet of my car, looking up at the stars, while the lights of the city twinkle gently in the distance. This would work irrespective of whether I have someone to share the moment or not, for solitude can be a powerful tool to experience what you love and discover things about you that you never dreamt about.

—

All Alone (on Eilean Shona) – 1 Giant Leap

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For my sister’s birthday, I call her up at midnight, and promise to buy her something nice, generally shoes or bags. In that sense, I’ve got the best sister in the world. I’ll wish her, and a few days later, she says “So, I think you should transfer a couple of thousand bucks into my account so I can buy shoes/bag, kthxbai”.

For my mum’s birthday, I remember until 11:30 pm the previous day, then promptly forget at midnight and wish her midway through the next day (after all my aunts and all my cousins have wished her already, and my sister and dad too). And I have no clue what to buy her. But she’s mum. So, it’s cool. She knows I love her, and I know she loves me, unconditionally. Actually, I know she loves me because she randomly plants kisses on my hairy cheek. And she knows I love her because I let her get away with it once in a while.

For my dad’s birthday, though, it’s all different. I remember days in advance, trying to think of how to wish him. Last year, I got away with a simple (yet completely honest) gesture. This year, let’s try a little harder.

Here’s the thing. It’s always harder to tell your dad how much you love him, at least for me it is. It’s easier to call him my role model. He’s smarter, more well-planned, and, (infuriatingly), he’s almost always right. About everything. He’s the reason I don’t have a student loan. He’s also the reason I’m not a pretentious snob who overspends on unimportant things. He keeps me tethered to the ground while also giving me the confidence to soar. I’m sure it must be difficult being a dad when you’re almost perfect, and your son’s still trying to get there (I’m close, though, obviously), but I think he does a good job.

For being my rock for the last 25+ years…

For handling me through all the times I’ve been difficult…

For setting all the right examples…

And simply for being the best father anyone could hope to have…

I love you, dad. Happy Birthday.

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I caught myself, in time, just before I was about to venture on to another “random thoughts” post. Haven’t I written plenty of them lately anyway? Why? What’s so special about randomness?

When it comes to my writing, nothing. I resort to writing random thoughts when I have nothing else to write about, when nothing has inspired me, my muse has been dormant for a while, but I feel like I’ve been neglecting my blog for too long. It works out, because every once in a while, a random post will turn out to be interesting, captivating or well-written (by my own standards, of course). But ultimately, the fact remains – it’s an admission of failure. I’m sorry, I can’t think of anything brilliant to write about, so here’s a bunch of random thoughts hopefully wrapped up in wannabe pretty sentences, phrases and play of words. Hope you enjoy it!

But it’s not just me. A lot of other people write ‘random’ blog posts. In fact, ‘Random’ is a word used in the title of more blogs than any other word. Go ahead, Google it to confirm (because I certain didn’t). The easiest thing in the world to do is to start a random blog and advertise it as such. But if you read between the lines, a random blog is nothing but a concession that you lack the discipline to write a topical blog. Or you lack the knowledge and/or enthusiasm for one. And every time you write something below par, you can justify to yourself by saying that you only promised your readers something random, after all. And obviously, if you leave your posts to chance, you’re going to get a few rotten ones every now and then. And even as I complete this paragraph, I know that every “you” here can be replaced by “me”. This is not necessarily the story of an average blog. It’s also the story of mine…eh?

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It’s been a while since I’ve listened to A Perfect Circle. There’s a whole bunch of reasons why, but let’s not get into it. I was listening to “The Outsider” and the first line of the chorus leapt out at me. Disconnect and self-destruct, one bullet at a time. Wow.

CD Cover of the single – The Outsider by A Perfect Circle

I have no freaking clue what it means. So, if that’s what you were expecting, my insincerest apologies.

But that line leapt out at me because it was the first line I remembered from the song. Maynard yells it out with pure power and it just sounds so explosive. I contemplated putting that line in a neat little post on Facebook with a link to the Youtube video of the song.

But then, that got me thinking. Why do I want to do that? Why would anyone want to do that? Why do people share links to videos of music? Or actually, anything at all?

#1 – Some people share things that they’ve found to be awesome and feel others should also experience. Like a “Hey, I found this! Take a look, it’s so cool!”

#2 – People put up (strong) opinions as their Facebook status as a means to attract (intelligent) discussion. This can work; A lot of times, you could also get be pleasantly surprised to find that someone you never knew too well actually sees eye to eye with you on an issue that means a lot to you. A good way to make like-minded friends. Alternately, you could put up a contrarian point of view just to go against the flow; to project an image of independent thinking and belief in your opinions in the face of strong opposition. Like Roy Keane. Who is an idiot. But that’s just my opinion.

#3 – To project an image of coolness. If I put up a link to something that all my friends are going to like, aren’t my friends going to like me a little bit more?

#4 – Because they want to be seen/heard. Put up a link to something people are going to like, and you’ll be on a lot of people’s timelines, won’t you?

#5 – Because someone else can express their opinions better than them. Like a glorious tribute to Sachin Tendulkar. Or a damning critique of a comical news presenter.

There could be a deeper reason, of course. It could just be a way of sharing your life with your friends. Thanks to Facebook, I know that one of my friends has adopted a cute little dog, that another friend has cut his hair (oh, believe me, this is going to change my life), etc.

Anyway. Why do you share stuff?

(This is the most direct way of inviting participation on the blog).

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It’s been a while since I’ve written. Anything. So I thought I’d write a post, yesterday. But I didn’t. Because I couldn’t think of what to write about. Then I thought I’d write a post today. I didn’t. Because I had nothing to write about. Actually, that’s not true. I could have written about a lot of things, but it’d all have to be censored, because this is my public blog, and though very few people actually read it, too many people could potentially read it.

It’s not that I’m afraid of airing my opinion. It’s just that it’s not worth it. Or maybe it’s very much that I am afraid of putting my opinions out there. But the post wouldn’t have been about opinions. It would have been about real people and the real situation they’re in. I must protect identities, because I’m not an author, I’m not beyond the realm of fault or responsibility.

So, instead, I’ll ramble. For a couple of paragraphs. And then, I run out of thoughts. Out of steam. Out of coherent, beautiful sentences. Screw it, nothing in this post is beautiful. Not a single sentence. Not a single expression. It’s all mediocre, pedestrian. There’s no beauty of thought, of expression. The vocabulary’s too simple. The sentences are too short.

But I’ll treat it like therapy. Because I believe (I must believe) that the more I write, the better will become the quality of writing. Wouldn’t it?

Yeah, it will.

Sleep.

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I was on facebook a little while back. Someone I know posted on his wall about how Special 26 is not as good as everyone is making it out to be, and how the ratings are rigged because apparently, a couple of critics (such as the TOI movie column writer) have given it 4 stars or what not. Then he went off on a mini-rant about how the plot is thin and weak, how the story has multiple unrealistic scenes and how it’s all just masala pop filmdom which should never have received any acclaim whatsoever.

Funny thing is, even as I read the first line of his status which claimed that “everything” in the world is rigged (he was referring to movie ratings, for the record), a little voice inside of me piped up, telling me not to read further because he’s going to give the plot away without a spoiler warning. The little voice was right.

You see, I’ve seen plenty of people of this kind. Those who assume that they’re just a few inches taller than everyone else, and those who think that they don’t necessarily need to be put on a pedestal, but if someone could arrange a little stool for them to stand head and shoulders above the rest of us, that’d be charming.

Most don’t say it outright, though

The status told me two things:

1. That people can be so full of themselves that their opinion holds more water than the collective ratings and opinions of everyone else. Hence, everything else is rigged.
2. That such people generally have no regard for others, and have a weakened sense of civil sense. Hence, the apathy towards giving away the plot to people who potentially have not watched the movie.

In a lot of cases, such people aren’t really bad. They’re not even those annoying turds that you can’t stand simply because they not only think they’re better than you, but they actually act like they are. In fact, there are some people who achieve a bit, but get so much adulation that it goes to their heads. Or these are people who have done that little bit something that most of us can’t, and they KNOW it sets them apart. This little thing they’re doing, it should open doors for them which might have been closed to others.

Either that or I’m overthinking and overanalysing.

Actually, knowing my propensity to do so, I think it’s probably the latter.

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