Michael Ondaatje’s Early Work
1 month ago
Showing posts with label random rant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random rant. Show all posts
On Growing Old
I turned 24 years old today. This obvious marker of my days spent here in this world somehow brings a sense of loss. There's a loss of time, a loss of things that once were and would never be again the same. It forced me to look at those old pictures of me, when I was young and happy, only an year ago, and that certainly brings a temporary gush of happiness.
I don't know why but this huge, pale cloud has cast a shadow over my faculties since I woke up in the morning. I can't seem to find the source of the mist that has darkened my sky. There is this strong sense of being lost, or loosing something that was perhaps within my grasp. Why haven't I achieved those lofty goals that I've always aimed for? Or, why, if I have achieved them albeit partially, I don't feel glad about it? Importantly, why can't I simply cherish what I have?
The above is of course the first reason that has triggered my emotional self and allowed me to deviate from my busy schedule and write a post. And the second is possibly the busy schedule itself. Yes, I think the regularity of my work routine even on my auspicious, 'happy b'day' has a hand in spoiling it somewhat. Of all the days, at least to-day I should do what I scarcely find time do it, and not read these darn scientific articles! To hell with them.
Ah! I shall read a book. A fine book it shall be. Gifted by my dear sibling, 'Ernest Hemingway on writing', my b'day present. The finest of all.
(Having written this, I feel much better. Writing is certainly a potent remedy for all kinds of sickness.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: Ernest Hemingway on Writing
Current Music: 'Bad Romance' by Lady Gaga (Happy b'day Gaga. <3)
I don't know why but this huge, pale cloud has cast a shadow over my faculties since I woke up in the morning. I can't seem to find the source of the mist that has darkened my sky. There is this strong sense of being lost, or loosing something that was perhaps within my grasp. Why haven't I achieved those lofty goals that I've always aimed for? Or, why, if I have achieved them albeit partially, I don't feel glad about it? Importantly, why can't I simply cherish what I have?
The above is of course the first reason that has triggered my emotional self and allowed me to deviate from my busy schedule and write a post. And the second is possibly the busy schedule itself. Yes, I think the regularity of my work routine even on my auspicious, 'happy b'day' has a hand in spoiling it somewhat. Of all the days, at least to-day I should do what I scarcely find time do it, and not read these darn scientific articles! To hell with them.
Ah! I shall read a book. A fine book it shall be. Gifted by my dear sibling, 'Ernest Hemingway on writing', my b'day present. The finest of all.
(Having written this, I feel much better. Writing is certainly a potent remedy for all kinds of sickness.)
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: Ernest Hemingway on Writing
Current Music: 'Bad Romance' by Lady Gaga (Happy b'day Gaga. <3)
A Lean Looser
"It was great to hear about obesity. But in your data did you find any correlations with extreme leanness?" I asked her.
She looked at me briefly, cleared her throat, and began in an emphatic tone, "It's quite sad that people started to focus on probiotics and gut bacteria, only when obesity became a concern. While in countries like India, where starvation has been a major issue, nobody cared about it. And I think starvation is an equally if not more important issue than obesity. But yes, I actually did find some correlations - but nobody is interested in them."
"Ah yes, I understand. And don't you think we've overcomplicated our life with bad food. If we eat good food, we won't have any such issues. And in India, we have these special herbal powders (churna) which we consume everytime our stomach goes bad - and they work well!"
"Yes, yes I know. There are indeed many herbs which are proven to have beneficial effects for your stomach. And I must say that Western thinking maybe too narrow minded in health research. I mean, India’s Ayurveda is thousands years old, and I have sometimes browsed that online for fun – I’m a biologist you know – and it really has great potential. Those people working with Ayurveda have observed people and their diseases for so many years, their cures must be definitely potent. But it’s quite sad, that it is all dying. I’m not able to find funding for my own research – we’re trying to gather money too – but things are too commercial now. Industries want to directly study human targets, but the science is not ready for that yet. And then the general public takes all sorts of risks with their health. Young men who take steroids for bodybuilding often end up with bulk and fat in unwanted places, and almost always in their cheeks.Yes, it is getting complicated ..."
And so I stood there, for about fifteen minutes, talking to this old, crazy, passionate biologist - trying to see life through her eyes. But simultaneously, her work and of many others, brought this state of depression in me that my own research is quite insignificant. I feel stupid you know. I'm not that smart, not at science. Perhaps I ain't good at anything. Because later in the evening, we had these competitive games. Our team came 2nd in the game of Scrabble out of 4 teams. We didn't come 1st, and thus didn't make to the finals. We lost it. I'm supposed to be good at English. Apparently not. Fuck, I hate being so average at everything.
But in the end, when I look back at my average life in retrospect, I console myself as follows: When you can't do great things, you should take solace in the fact that you can appreciate great things. And that's all I can do perhaps.
In the meanwhile, I'll keep fighting. My last month's copy of Scientific American is waiting to be read beneath my lamp.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "Silas Marner" by George Eliot
Current Music: "Castle of Glass" by Linkin Park (LOVE YOU LP)
Current Book: "Silas Marner" by George Eliot
Current Music: "Castle of Glass" by Linkin Park (LOVE YOU LP)
Waiting For Batman
Life has moved on like it has been doing since eons, and I find myself trudging through it ever so slowly, clutching a handful grains of hope, losing them at every step that I take without a reward. I am now a hobbit on way to Mt. Doom, serving my own self to a greater purpose, with hardly any hope.
Things have been quite static in both my scientific and artistic career (Yes true, I haven't had any chance to perform any real science or art, but I like to put it that way) The paper I wrote for my Masters' thesis is still not submitted out to a journal, and even when it will be done, I know it's fate will not be good. The work has too many flaws. The current work in my PhD is too paltry on a universal scale and even that I find quit difficult to carry out.
And the novel, that I finished writing last month, requires revision before I can dare to send it out to publishers. While to me, the work looks promising, I'm deeply afraid that it won't look the same to others. I'm not trying to imply that people aren't worthy enough to appreciate my work; it's just that I'm caught too badly in the illusion that it's good in the first place. I'm sure, within a few months, this same novel that I'm proud of, will begin to reek unbearable stench that I won't be able to stand.
I think I work hard but perhaps I don't as much as I need to get all the rewards that I want. Otherwise, there is this tiny hope in the corner of my heart, which says that I may have indeed worked hard and my faith will be rewarded.
Sooner or later; it's just a matter of time.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "Silas Marner" by George Eliot (another great text)
Current Music: "Nothing out there" by Hans Zimmer in Dark Knight Rises OST
Things have been quite static in both my scientific and artistic career (Yes true, I haven't had any chance to perform any real science or art, but I like to put it that way) The paper I wrote for my Masters' thesis is still not submitted out to a journal, and even when it will be done, I know it's fate will not be good. The work has too many flaws. The current work in my PhD is too paltry on a universal scale and even that I find quit difficult to carry out.
And the novel, that I finished writing last month, requires revision before I can dare to send it out to publishers. While to me, the work looks promising, I'm deeply afraid that it won't look the same to others. I'm not trying to imply that people aren't worthy enough to appreciate my work; it's just that I'm caught too badly in the illusion that it's good in the first place. I'm sure, within a few months, this same novel that I'm proud of, will begin to reek unbearable stench that I won't be able to stand.
I think I work hard but perhaps I don't as much as I need to get all the rewards that I want. Otherwise, there is this tiny hope in the corner of my heart, which says that I may have indeed worked hard and my faith will be rewarded.
Sooner or later; it's just a matter of time.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "Silas Marner" by George Eliot (another great text)
Current Music: "Nothing out there" by Hans Zimmer in Dark Knight Rises OST
The Art of Writing: Short Stories vs Novel
Unfortunately, this post is not a comparison between the two art forms of writing, but merely a brief pondering upon the subject in consideration.
I've always believed (having read more short stories than novels) that short stories are somehow, sometimes more effective than novels. They can leave you stunned in a matter of minutes, while the overall effect of a novel is slow and gradual. For comparison, consider the effect of a sharp, piercing arrow against a slow, heavy club. (Of course, it also depends on the kind of novels you read - for this is no absolute generalization)
However, keeping apart the facts and conflicting views, my point behind this post is, basically, I was really touched by this short story I read last night, and I'd like to make a fuss about it. So much it touched me that, when I was on the last page of it, I was trembling with emotion, eyes heavy and ready to pour out any moment, accompanied with a heart beat that I've experienced only on rare occasions of extreme physical exercise. And so moved I was when the story ended, that I sat in silence staring out of my bedroom window into the grim, darkening night.
It ought to be remembered that in creating a short story, a writer has to put an immense amount of effort, if not as great as a novel but still considerable and at times even more. A writer has to setup an entire character and the entire plot just for a particular short story, the materials then would be discarded and pretty useless for the writer's next story. And it doesn't ofcourse earn that much bread as a novel could. And then, the required brevity can be painful at times, when you're forced to tell everything in a very restricted length, whereas in a novel, you're free to meander and develop the characters and plot from all angles if you like, whether you must or must not, it doesn't matter.
And the best thing I like about reading short stories, and mostly the precious anthologies, is their effective edification. I feel as I've extracted the juice from a potent fruit, and had the essence of learning the art of writing, in a quick manner, without investing myself or my time excessively in a narrow genre. So instead of reading fat novels on selected genres, I like to read many short stories on diverse genres. This way, even though it's superficial, you glide through realms of literature faster. And in the end, you can always settle down on what you liked the most, and then pick the big fat books from there. Counterintuitively, poetry being much more concise, can actually be much more time consuming and difficult to understand. So poetry is perhaps not a good start, but you can work your way into it - and it highly depends on which century's poetry you're starting with. Well, I'm drifting from the topic, poetry is for another blog post perhaps.
Anyway, the more I read, the more I find, that I'm merely on the brink of my initial survey, I still haven't found my so-called 'genre'. Here's the sci-fi story(The Bone Flute by Lisa Tuttle) that I've been ranting about. It won 1982 Nebula Award for Best Short Story.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "The Female Hero" An anthology on literary quests of females
Current Music: "Imagine The Fire" by Hanz Zimmer (best thing on the music planet out there)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I've always believed (having read more short stories than novels) that short stories are somehow, sometimes more effective than novels. They can leave you stunned in a matter of minutes, while the overall effect of a novel is slow and gradual. For comparison, consider the effect of a sharp, piercing arrow against a slow, heavy club. (Of course, it also depends on the kind of novels you read - for this is no absolute generalization)
However, keeping apart the facts and conflicting views, my point behind this post is, basically, I was really touched by this short story I read last night, and I'd like to make a fuss about it. So much it touched me that, when I was on the last page of it, I was trembling with emotion, eyes heavy and ready to pour out any moment, accompanied with a heart beat that I've experienced only on rare occasions of extreme physical exercise. And so moved I was when the story ended, that I sat in silence staring out of my bedroom window into the grim, darkening night.
It ought to be remembered that in creating a short story, a writer has to put an immense amount of effort, if not as great as a novel but still considerable and at times even more. A writer has to setup an entire character and the entire plot just for a particular short story, the materials then would be discarded and pretty useless for the writer's next story. And it doesn't ofcourse earn that much bread as a novel could. And then, the required brevity can be painful at times, when you're forced to tell everything in a very restricted length, whereas in a novel, you're free to meander and develop the characters and plot from all angles if you like, whether you must or must not, it doesn't matter.
And the best thing I like about reading short stories, and mostly the precious anthologies, is their effective edification. I feel as I've extracted the juice from a potent fruit, and had the essence of learning the art of writing, in a quick manner, without investing myself or my time excessively in a narrow genre. So instead of reading fat novels on selected genres, I like to read many short stories on diverse genres. This way, even though it's superficial, you glide through realms of literature faster. And in the end, you can always settle down on what you liked the most, and then pick the big fat books from there. Counterintuitively, poetry being much more concise, can actually be much more time consuming and difficult to understand. So poetry is perhaps not a good start, but you can work your way into it - and it highly depends on which century's poetry you're starting with. Well, I'm drifting from the topic, poetry is for another blog post perhaps.
Anyway, the more I read, the more I find, that I'm merely on the brink of my initial survey, I still haven't found my so-called 'genre'. Here's the sci-fi story(The Bone Flute by Lisa Tuttle) that I've been ranting about. It won 1982 Nebula Award for Best Short Story.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "The Female Hero" An anthology on literary quests of females
Current Music: "Imagine The Fire" by Hanz Zimmer (best thing on the music planet out there)
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
On returning to India
It doesn't happen very often that you find an email sitting in your inbox from a complete stranger in which that person is requesting you to update your blog, and asking you to talk about how does it feel to be back in India, while simultaneously he's expressing his adoration for your writing. A rare email of this sorts is then starred, and my inner lazy writer wakes up at 7am in the morning to write.
How does it feel to be back home, after much struggle and adventure in the US? There is no single word or sentence to describe that feeling. It's different here, definitely, much different. Perhaps not different than it was 2 years ago, but to me, it's again a whole brave new world.
As I sit in the open verandah on the second floor of our house, I can smell the fresh morning dipped in a hue of smoke. I can hear the sound of distant horns, blaring in perfect chaos, dampened by the chirping and twittering of many odd little beings that I have not seen or heard since long. Life seems to be slowed down here, yet the traffic on the road is ever-accelerating on twisting, narrow, unknown katcha-pucca roads. I am no more able to cross the roads or sit behind the car driver with ease. People stare at you here for no reason, and their faces look so tense or sometimes so serious, but perhaps this is so because their expressions are genuine and they are not trained to wear plastic white smileys as several are in the US. I could notice by the glare in their eyes, while I was showering a "thank you" to everyone who interacted with me, that there were many people who have not been thanked yet for their silent, lowly jobs.
Everything, everyone seems to moving, rushing past each other, heading for sliding into those closing doors before anyone else, and yet there is this strange stillness in this country. A stillness of a relaxed, and unorganized bachelor's room, where things lie as and where they can, without much care or order. This emptiness has ridden my personal daily scheduler of ink, so I don't have anything to do in the next few hours, or tonight or tomorrow, or the next two weeks, as per the blank entries next to the columns of days and time slots.
But no matter how difficult it maybe for adjusting to everything that was once my own, and perhaps still is, nothing, no developed nation in the entire world, can offer or defeat the savory, sweet-warm taste of gujiya on my early morning dry tongue.
 |
| Gujiya, my favorite Indian sweet. |
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "A Brief History of Time" by Stephen HawkingCurrent Music: "Jaage Hain Der Tak" by A.R. Rehman in movie "Guru"
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I don't feel like doing anything
I want to go back to India, lie in ma’s lap, curl up
inside the comforter and watch TV with half open dreamy eyes all day. I want to eat mithai dammit. It’s one of those times
when I just don’t wanna do anything. Anything means no bloody studying or
anything productive. Guh, I hate this. I want to scream out the F word so bad
that everyone who’s in the vicinity should reduce to dust and all those great
people who did great things should vanish from the history books and especially Wikipedia, and
then I wouldn’t have to work so hard to beat them. I do not want to read this
crappy paper (paper is a casual word for a scientific research article). I want
to go home and eat that huge cake lying in my fridge (my roommate had a birthday
recently). My stomach is squirming. I’m squirming. Somebody, just please hit
me. Hit me, hit me, hit me. Hit me so hard that I go unconscious and I go to
sleep for a while and when I wake up, lots of days and deadlines should have already
passed. And on top of all this workload and tension, I just came to know about
a famous blogger who recently sold her book to the nation’s topmost publishing
house. I saw her struggling since 3 years and now she finally got what she
deserved. I’m happy for her but not so much for myself. I feel like slitting my
own throat with a darn nail cutter. Look at me. I’vent got shit done, haven’t
even written something worth publishing. What I had written, is under review since 3 months, and has been rejected from everywhere else anyway. I haven’t read a single goddamn book in
the past 4 months. Why? Been too busy earning a Master of Science. Hell yeah,
Master of Shit. Look at yourself in the mirror. Just take a look. You’re
nothing. And you will be nothing. And nobody cares about you, you back in the
mirror, pile of junk. Nobody's gonna read your 150 page Masters' thesis. Never, ever. I wish I was that little 1 year old baby like the baby
girl of my friend doing a PhD. The baby girl gets all the attention from her
PhD parents all the frikking time. She doesn’t have any reports or papers to
submit. Hell, I wanna be a baby. I don’t know where this post is going, I don’t
know where I’m going, prolly you’re not reading this anymore. If you’re, well,
screw you. Why are you so happy and glum, reading shitty blogs on the internets
and not have any work to do? I so much hate you for your idleness. Jealousy,
yes, bitch. I wish I could read some shit around. I wish I could see some
America in the last two weeks before I leave it for forever. But no, I’ve to
kill myself first. And before that, in this week, I’ve got to submit two papers to Prof. X,
take two final exams from the hardest courses outside my department which were
not required but I took them just to add some stress in my life.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "The Best of O' Henry" Selected Short stories by O' Henry
Current Music: "Hum Kis Gali Jaa Rahe Hain" by Shaan
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The curse on the ugly people
I have always believed that ugly or plain looking people like me are in someway cursed. We were not meant to enjoy the trivialities of life as most other people do.
Often people come and ask me, "What's the purpose of life?", and I stare right back at them in reply and penetrate my gaze deep down their eyes to check if that's really what they're asking. Because if they are, it's too trivial a question to ponder upon. "What's the purpose of life?" Don't you know? Don't we all know? Inherently, aren't we equipped to answer this? Aren't we fulfilling that very purpose, silently, every day, every moment?
| We are the ants. Not the grasshoppers. |
The purpose of life is to live. It's that simple.
Biology has defined this purpose and we, as living beings, adhere to it, no matter we realize it or not. We live, and we want to live incessantly and that immortality is achieved by producing work or offspring.
The people who look plain/ugly/not-beautiful and also believe that they are so, suffer from this coupled inferiority/superiority complex which makes them think that they are different from rest of the beautiful people. Their inferiority complex makes them work harder to achieve the same level of happiness they think others might be having, and their superiority complex encourages them to achieve a different or an elite bliss which, according to them, others might not be destined to have. And then, we, ugly people, pursue science or art and excel in such arenas so that our beautiful peers can reproduce and their children may prosper. We must then stay in our labs, in our closed cubicles, away from the world, because if we went out to flirt and fool around, who will save the dying world and solve the upcoming energy crisis? Who will write great literature that will teach the upcoming generations the important lessons of life?
After all, we want immortality and for our species to live continuously, each of us must play our part. When I see a very hot girl or a handsome guy working hard alone on creating great work, I deem it as an insult to his/her fate. That's wastage of gifted talent. Or perhaps, they also "believe" that they are not beautiful enough and hence have joined the crowd of ugly.
And you'll always see that people who make it to the very top or to the very bottom have always found themselves lost in a combination of inferiority/superiority complex and it's a fine ratio that governs the slope of life. Those who are too satisfied, too happy, and too content with what they have, continue to live happily ever after and prosper as a family does. But we, the ones with this gnawing rage, this maddening thirst, and shimmering desire, must continue to look for answers.
We suffer from this disease, this disease called "inspiration" and I must suffer and toil till I find my treasure.
This is my curse. And this is my gift. How about you?
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "Selected Stories" by Edgar Allan Poe (Haven't read single page in past 4 months)
Current Music: "Yahan ke Hum Sikander" from Jo Jeeta Wahi Sikander
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 Really SUCKED Hard
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows Part 2 Really SUCKED Hard:
I was too excited and skipping about in my frock, and all prepared to end the decade old legend after refreshing my mind by revising the previous movies (out of which only the third holds some respect in my eyes, rest of them are pretty okayish and don't even get me started on David Yates please), so I bought some costly IMAX tickets and braced myself with some popcorn.
Well, turned out, popcorn were good. They were salty, soft, butter coated, and possessed an amazing instantaneous ability to melt between human palates. And a pretty good deal too, 3 bucks for a large one. What? Movie? Oh yeah, the movie, I nearly forgot about that. It was fine. No wait, which movie you said? Harry Potter one? Oh it sucked. Oh Christ.
It. Sucked.
I don't see why the entire crew continued to make a parody of themselves under the burden of such a huge budget. And JKR? Well, she never really could interfere so we can't blame her I suppose. I mean, all the characters, everyone is passing on POOREST PJ's throughout the movie.
McGonagal, or however you spell that old witch's name, passes a terrible joke "Ooooo I always wanted to cast that spell!" when in a grim atmosphere she awakens the Hogwarts Guardians. And then in the end, Ron is all lewd about the Elder Wand. I mean, I think he's lusty throughout the movie, like a wasted boyfriend dripping saliva around an overly hot girlfriend. An adorable character, brought to such a mess. And then the miserable couple never get tired of kissing each other "Brilliant!" "Brilliant!" whenever they get a chance. Thanks Harry Potter Film people. Thanks.
When I returned home my mouth's taste was so bad (not literally, popcorn was good) I had to wash it off so I watched "The Godfather", and oh my, after that, I totally forgot that I was once so crazy a fan of Harry Potter that I failed my 10th Grade Maths exam because I was reading Order of the Phoenix before the exam because I had borrowed the book from some lame guy who would want it back after the exams end, so that he can read it again a few times in the holidays.
Anyway, in old times, I loved the books, no doubt about that. And fear not, fantasy lovers! 'The Hobbit' is coming soon.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "Of Mice and Men" by John Steinback
Current Music: "Give me everything tonight" by Pitbull ft. some other ppl.
General Notes
So when I have really nothing to say, and for the sake of weekly blogging and for the sake of those 2-3 people who actually care about this blog, I have some general notes for this week.
1. Summer's are going hot and nice. Especially that almost everyone is wearing very little or no clothes. Except me, of course.
2. I am finally understanding Sir Mark Twain's language after finishing 2/3 of the current book.
3. It's strange to know that an year has passed in US and still almost nothing has been accomplished. The world, as of now, still remains unconquered and out of our reach.
4. I'm falling in love every other week. But of course the one person I really love is being constantly loved and remembered by us.
5. Don't know what to put under number 5.
6. Fast Five is one of the biggest no-brainers I have watched in a while. Felt like committing suicide on every other scene. But it was very funny. No doubt about that. Brawny and pea brain men always amuse me :) (Should have put this in #5)
7. I realized I made more resolutions in summer than at new year. Still struggling to keep 'em up.
8. Writing is as bad as ever. Some other project is taking our time indefinitely. Probably will hook up with friends and write some shit later this week.
Oh wait, need to make friends first.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "Adventures of Huckleberry Finn" By Mark Twain
Current Music: "Danza Kuduro" by Don Omar.
Zero Productivity
"What's your progress?" asked my professor with regard to the summer research that I'm supposed to conduct in return of the money I get paid.
I pondered for a moment as I tried to formulate an answer. Immediately, my mind drifted and I began wondering about the progress in other aspects of my life. It occurred to me, one by one, that I was failing everywhere.
Clearly, I hadn't written a single word since February (ofcourse I don't consider these blogs and other shit as serious writing), so that way my writing career wasn't going any further. On reading, I did read a 'few good books' since the new year began. But the problem was the count was "few". I averaged reading 1 book in a month, while it should actually be a book in a week. I wished I read more.
Health was another dimension in which I had planned to improve but all that happened in this field was "planning", nothing else. Personal life, friendships, romances were as usual on a decline so I didn't complain about productivity there.
The click of my professor's pen brought my senses back to the present situation while the question still hung loosely between the two of us. What was my progress?
I had no answer.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "Wuthering Heights" By Emily Bronte
Current Music: "Mr. Saxobeat" by Alexandra Stan.
Seasons
A pleasant wind caressing my face, playing with locks of my hair, hair that I throw aside from my eyes, eyes that look down at the vast ground, ground where the green grass is, green grass growing out of the new land, pushing from beneath the dead, flat leaves that dance upon the busy road, busy road with convertible cars, open hoods and crazy girls, girls with twinkling eyes, red hair and low skirts, low skirts frolicking upon their long legs looking down upon red, pink sandals arguing with chastity, chastity of those naked trees with hungry branches, branches that sharply point the sky like lightning bolts, like tridents waiting to be taken, to be accepted, accepted by a new life, by a new season, by new leaves on their branches and bodies, bodies that roam around in two's, like couples, having faces, faces that smile. And lo! The spring has come.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "The Grapes of Wrath" By John Steinback [Still :(]
Current Music: "Fireflies" - Owl City
Unanswered Questions
These days, I always wonder about these questions no matter I'm free or busy. They just haunt my mind every now and then. I wonder why?
Q#1 Why do some people still think that life in US is like this?
Q#2 Why that little hot chick in the gym is usually reviewing her chemistry notes while running on the jogging machine?
Q#3 Why my average of words/day output of fiction writing is so terribly less?
Q#4 Why my Chinese peers are just SO DAMN GOOD at everything (researching/sporting/flirting)?
Q#5 Why I miss Her so much?
Q#6 Where do the ducks go when the lake is frozen? No, really, where do they really go?
Q#7 Why the roads are so goddamn slippery?
Q#8 Why every casual sentence spoken by Holden Caulfield has so much depth in it? How?
Q#9 What does a Chick mean when she emails and say, "We ought to do lunch sometime!"
Q#10 What's the bloody meaning of ought anyway?
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "The Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger (Still)
Current Music: "Dilli..." from No One Killed Jessica
HNY HNY
HNY HNY.
I planned to go straight to bed at 10:00 P.M. that night. No stupid sitting till midnight for the new year and all. And then wake on the first day of the year at 7:00 A.M. and STUDY. Or WRITE. Basically try to initiate the new year by pursuing something noble like Science OR Art.
But then, I soon realized, "Who I am kidding?" I know who I am. LoL. Sleeping early on New Year's Eve and waking the next day (or any day for that matter) at 7?
MY ASS.
So basically I did nothing shitty of this kind and spent this transition pretty normally. 2010 was a great year for me, in fact pivotal in my life, career, etc, etc. I won't bore you with that shit, you know pretty much what happened in 2010 if you wasted your time reading here, so I'll skip that.
And here's a list of things I actually DID on the first day of January (I don't know if it's a good thing if I will be repeating them throughout the year. You judge.)
- Watched TV at night and learnt how people are crazy at NY Times Square on New Year. Backstreet Boys and Avril looked kinda hot though.
- Licked Ice Cream after 6 months? lol.
- Slept for 10 hours.
- Did NOT go to Office/Lab (Hell yeah, bitch).
- Learned how to drive and scared other nice people on the road and backseat as well.
- Attended an online video conference (O RLY? About WHAT?) with Darling (to be wife?)
- TRIED to read an English Grammar book and failed.
- Ate an Octopus in lunch.
Happy New Year, Honey. (HNY HNY)
P.S: RESOLUTIONS --->
1. Get Laid.
(Resolutions never really come to life, so THAT's OKAY)
How did ya spend yours, dear invisible reader? Any resolutions you might like to share?
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "The Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger
Current Music: "Desert Rain" by Edward Maya
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Current Book: "The Catcher in the Rye" by J.D. Salinger
Current Music: "Desert Rain" by Edward Maya
Freakin' Fridays
I checked the bus timings and my wrist watch one last time before I grabbed my bag and jacket and made a run for the main door. The exit door of the building was a few meters ahead and I had to reach the bus stop within 60 seconds. Because 60 seconds is the time the bus takes to reach the stop closest to my building from the bigger stop where it is scheduled to arrive at 10:11 PM.
I glanced my watch again as I pushed the heavy steel exit door with my tired hands. The minute hand was slightly past 11 minutes and the second hand was moving effortlessly towards the completion of another goddamn minute. The moment I stepped out of the artificially heated structure and stepped on the bare concrete pavement, a cold wind brushed past my ears, reminding me that I had forgotten to employ my jacket's hood. Straggling with my loose bag and flowing jacket, I managed to wear my hood and cover more distance towards the stop.
I saw the bus coming from the other side. It rode the pavement with a considerable effort and engaged itself against me in a 200 meter parallel sprint towards the final destination - the bus stop. I could hear my own cold escalated breath and the crunching sound of fallen leaves beneath my stamping feet. I realized the beginning of fall.
Not much later, about 30 seconds after, I made it to the stop and climbed the bus. The driver nodded and smiled at me in a manner athletes often do after finishing a race. But it wasn't him that caught me off gaurd. It was something else.
It was this strong stench flooded in the bus that caught me and my nostril hair off gaurd. The stench of alcohol. And noises and shrieks too.
Friday, Alcohol, What else? I thought and moved on.
I moved past many shoulders to find a seat at the back side of the bus, where nobody was daring to go and sit and why so, I don't know why. But I came to know the answer of 'why', soon after. The back side was more or less taken by the people who had troubled the olfactory receptors of the sober commuters. Making my way past drunk, shabby haired, half dressed undergrad girls and boys, I found a seat in the corner but before I could find some rest from the sprint I had a minute ago, I found myself talking to a guy who was having a normal Friday.
Guy: Whoa dude, so you been studying?
Me: Uhm, yeah? (I looked at my bag I had now kept in my lap and nodded)
Guy: Wow. You're studying till 10pm on a Friday and am getting drunk.
Me: Well, no-not really..
Guy:I will be prolly working for you someday.
Me: huh?
And then he broke the conversation in the same sudden manner he had started it. I took some time to figure the last line he spoke to me and pretended busy in my own thoughts. Then their was a she-friend of this guy, who was talking pictures of herself and her gang and yelling to everyone, "I am 21 and I can drink, how about you?".
I looked at my bag once again and of all those things that I did on this Friday and all those boring things that I will be doing on this Friday night. Then I thought I am 21 too.
But am I living my age? Are we all living our age? Are we living? At all?
What a Villager Expects from US of A
So as the day of escape(an illusion?) approaches near, I look forward to my expectations getting fulfilled.
| This is totally me. Ofcourse. Stop zooming now. |
So yes, as my mommy packs up my entire room in two and a half huge bags (not really as huge as compared to my peers, but huge as per the villager standards), I sit here, trying to remember what all I expect from the land of the opportunities..
1. Full time electricity/power?
2. Unlimited Internet?
3. Coffee?
I kinda have a myth or something that writers need some addictive coffee on their table to continue to write shit. I mean I am able to write shit anyway all the time. But wouldn't it be cool if I write shit AND drink coffee? Then I can always blame the coffee for the shit I wrote.
"Hey coffee sissy, its you making me write such bad stories n shit, screw you!"
Would be so cool. And in my village, I don't get good real addictive coffee. All here I can get is some packed shit that doesn't even make me feel high. I have heard in US, coffee has a good variety and too much of it can really screw your life OR writing. SO I kinda expect that to happen.
4. Freedom?
Hmmm, so that's what its all about. More or less. Can't remember more, but yeah there are plenty more. I think I should go brush now. Or perhaps take a bath. Or maybe none of them and fool around on the Internet with a foul breath in my mouth and few bacteria on my body and waste my day, as usual.
Anything you feel like saying, anything, any expectation you (reader) may have when going somewhere (or US or any country or any village for that matter) or anything that is entirely not related to the above post but not limited to dragonflies or zombies, you are welcome to comment.
Visa Approved BUT with Wardrobe Malfunction
Yay!
Finally my Visa to US of A has been approved (somehow) by a wierdo visa officer. After many months I felt that "true happiness" kinda stuff. It was a fun filled ride of my two day trip to American Embassy, New Delhi which I am so eager to share with you people that I have been punching keys the moment I reached home. A have a bunch of snippets and memories to share and so they are organized as per your convenience.
And yes, a wardrobe malfunction is coming up too down the post, you gotta get reading ;)
A Vote of Thanks.
But yes, some gratitude first! Special thanks to supporting friends like Vatsan and Deorah (who actually a day before the interview, took an half hour long mock interview to charge me up. The kind of questions he posed entirely raped me but sort of prepared me for the worst. I unconditionally recommend him for a job of a Visa Officer in the immigrant section especially. America will be happier. LoL)
Also thanks for the kind wishes of the people who commented on my previous post. Holly (An Amazing Blogger), Snehal and Palak, you people really rock for being so regular here!
To my family, who believed in me.
And yes thanks to those who came there, felt my pain and left without their footprints. I welcome them again :)
The City of New Delhi
Leaving my village (Bhatinda) behind for two days was a relief. Who doesn't prefer beautiful structures looming above you and hot chicks lurking around you? Although Delhi has it's own problems of pollution and population. But the area we visited and took the hotel room in was quite nice to hang around. The place having all the embassies is quite posh and filled with all sorts of foreigners. The streets are bundled with sleek hotels and enticing food joints. I had a hell lot of street and chat food a day before my Interview. I just did not want to stay idle, so kept myself busy till the final hour. Roamed the streets, got some few things done related to the documentation n stuff, checked out the chicks (which were definitely better than what I see these days @ village).
It's like that in advanced n modern cities, no matter what, chicks know how to carry themselves out. They know what to hide and what to accentuate. So it kinda works ;) But sorry, I digress. This post must be about my Interview.
Ill-Will ho gaya...
I returned to my room at night and discovered the alternating patterns of hot and cold stuff had made my throat go bad. I was quite worried that the condition will worsen by the next day. So I took some throat healing toffees, vicks etc (they did not help much). Next morning I woke up and decided to do the hot water gargles. Turned out that the first gargle made me vomit. And quite a junky stuff landed before my washbasin which I was expecting anyway. I could make out the contents of it, not completely though.
So all in all, a nice start for the biggest interview of my life (till date). The appointment was at 0915 hours and I checked out at around 8 in hurry and somehow reached on time.
Da Interview
Now this is my favorite part...I had prepared the documentation and all for like a month just for this day. Read around 300-400 interviews on the Internet to prepare myself for this. But my interview...it was nothing like I had ever seen before (hardly..)
The Delhi embassy was quite organized and I was rather amazed by the professionalism in the way they were carrying out their routine work. Around me were a lot of non-immigrant people, many of them sweating hard. Rejects and refusals were raining hard. I tried myself to engage in arranging my docs while I waited for my Token number to be called.
I was assigned to this 25-30 year old, male VO(Visa Officer) with short hair and a stone cold face. He was hammering a Sikh(=Sardarji) guy before me pretty hard. What I heard is this-->
VO: Why this Univ---why you select this---why not study in India-----
Sikh Guy: I-i-i-i-t mmmmmmmatches-s-ss mmmmy prrrrofile. (He was shaking so bad that he couldn't even speak properly. The applicant appeared so afraid that he took a full minute to speak this line "It matches my profile" and what a lame answer.)
VO; I am rejecting your Visa. Thump. (He stamped reject on his passport and returned it to him)
Next was my turn. I was almost sure that this arrogant VO guy can screw the hell outta me. I approached cautiously. But believe me, this guy amazed me. That's how it went-->
VO: (Looking at his computer screen continuously and typing something, as I approached he ignored me completely)
DK: Good Morning officer (Said in a normal tone, after waiting for 10 seconds)
VO: (Gave no reply, did not even look at me, just placed his hand in the sliding place of the counter, pointing towards my stapled passport. I forwarded my passport and i20)
VO: So how many universities you applied to? (that was a wierd question to be the first one),
DK: Six universities. I applied to X, Clemson univ, ASU, UFL, U of Cincinnati-(Cuts me here)
VO: Your Visa has been issued. It will be couriered to you.
I was like. WTF? One question? No documents asked? No GRE, TOEFL? NO Degree %? NO Finance? I mean I was like, "Cmon man atleast see something, lol, at least see my GRE man..lol".
I was so DUMBSTRUCK, that I actually stood there with a blank face staring at him, not believing his words. His arrogant and stoned face still made me feel like it was a reject. He had to get rid of me from his eyes sight by yelling "NEXT" and then I only remember being shoved out of the line by a fat candidate behind me...
And that was it...lol.
Visa Interview, big hype but all bullshit. I think the reasons behind this "shortest interview" are that
1. He was quite pissed off that Sikh guy before me. (Thanks Sikhs, really.)
2. He had already seen in my i20 the scholarship etc and that's why din't worry about finance and all.
ANYWAY, IT WAS DAMN COOL. I never expected MY VI would be SO AWESOME ;)
The Wardrobe Malfunction
And here it is, your best part buddy. The one you have been waiting for so long or maybe simply scrolled down to read it first ;) It's okay, I understand. ;p
So it's weird you know, at the embassy there were a few chicks that weren't really dressed well. I mean too casual or maybe too slutty. High pointed heels with Low deep neck tops. I mean, c'mon. You are here for a professional interview and not some. . .All the time I was thinking about THEM that what if they accidentally revealed too much to the VO and he gets angry and denies you visa?
But fate is evil. Turns out it was ME who suffered from a wardrobe malfunction all along.
Only thing is I realized it a little too late. I came out of the embassy all smiling and happy, grinning at the crowd of the anxious parents waiting outside, looking for my dad. Some of them were grinning back at me (lol). I found my dad and he was quite happy on hearing the news. He expressed his worries that since morning he was a little negative about the lousy clothes I had worn for this day and was thus afraid that they might reject me on the basis of my casualty with regards clothing.
He again reviewed me from top to bottom and said, "You look awful. Look everyone is dressed in formal. And you were so casual. But I guess that doesn't matter. You GOT IT."
"Yeah dad, I got it. The sikh guy before me who got rejected was in full formals, white shirt, black trousers, nicely fitted turban and all..."
"Hey but wait, what omg. Your trouser's zipper is open. lol" with that he slapped his palm on his forehead and I felt weird lol. And I thought, all this time...lol...
I forget to fly it up I guess before leaving the hotel where I pee'ed the last in hurry. And since those 2-3 hours, I was roaming like this. .In the entire embassy, in my interview, I was a moving wardrobe malfunction. God, lol.
But anyway not much harm done, no revelation of any kind of course, my loose shirt was quite low, so I guess that covered the place for most of the time. :D
Funny day.
Having Fun with Google. Let's Play Google-Foogle.
Hi
lol, I am in a lil mood of fun today so I will be trying my best to give you the best crap you could ever find on the Internets. Of course you are looking for crap if you are reading blogs online, especially if you are reading MINE. You want some good enlightening stuff, go read some book.
You are coming online, opening MY blog, you are entirely vulnerable to whatever crap I put up so here. Also readers below 18 years of age, proceed below at your own risk. (No, I am not posing naked tonight, I just added that line to add some excitement, lol :D)
OKAY, initial rant over and we come to the main topic of the todays post.
GOOGLE_FOOGLE.
It's a silly name I just thought of a minute ago and it's not a new game. I saw this earlier on some other blog on some other day. Today however I felt I will share it with you guys. It's a game which TRANSCENDS all barriers, sex, skin, race, color, creed etc. LoL. It can be played ANYWHERE. AND it's FUN.
What do you need for it?
- A Computer
- Internet (Dialup will also do, you just need to able to open www.google.com)
- Idleness (Some one who has nothing else better to do in his life, just like me, lol)
SO, Let's Begin shall we? Let the game begin!
What you do is, open google main page and begin to write the keywords in the search bar. But the crucial point of the game is that you DON'T write the ENTIRE Keyword, you just leave it half way. You feel me? You try it and you will know. That is when Google will come out of the shadows and help you out of your misery.
And trust me, it really does gives you what you actually looking for. Well not actually, but your soul inside MIGHT just be looking for the suggestions it offers.
IMPORTANT: The suggestions offered by google are based upon the most searched keywords. These sort of show what people are mostly looking for. These have NO connection with what you have searched on google previously or are based on your search history. You can check it out yourself. And yes, these suggestions may vary from region to region, although I am not sure. But more or less, this is what people are searching most of the times and hence they come in top suggestions from google.
I just tried the following exciting words and see what it gave me --> (how, what to, why etc)
DAMN, These images screw up with my blog template and cover up entire space so moving them down....
Ga
ga
ga
la
la
la
la
la
ka
ka
ka
ra
ra
ra
OKAY. Sorry
la
la
la
la
la
la
la
One of reasons of my all out attack on the silliness of google is the reason they REJECTED my website for Adsense. It's like they don't want me to earn extra money.
There you go google. How do you like this kick in the ass? lol
I know I am stupid I am fighting with a search engine sorta guy. But it's okay. You have to face different kinda enemies in your life. From marshmallows to search engines.
Life's been real super busy. But STILL I find time to take REVENGE. Talk about nemesis, bitch.
ANYWAY, SO WHY don't you guys try out this GOOGLE FOOGLE and post your suggestions you got from google in the comments below?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
The Thought Pad Headline Animator
About Me
- Tanya
- My little body is aweary of this great world. An Indian PhD student horsing around in Europe.
Subscribe Some Shit
FeedCount
Map Stats
My Blog List
-
-
-
Test Post for Beej! Will Be Deleted5 years ago
-
-
-
-
-
-
Pub Rants Has Moved!!13 years ago
-
-
Hiatus15 years ago
-
-
Awards etc
