Musings

Sunday morining calls and the journey

Sunday morning and it was the same old story - someone called me up and after a sleepy few seconds, I put down the phone (did converse something but it wasn't registered). After trying to sleep more, I finally got up, ten minutes later. It was as inevitable as it was that I couldn't sleep early, yesterday. A brisk TV session, a customary lunch and back to office.

Sometimes I beileve I come to office on sundays, mostly to show that I am workaholic. It most-often happens in this industry and I daresay, "am not an exception". Am I really loaded with work, or do I come just to write up this blog and do a few hundred sundry things other than work? The truth is yes and no. Right from my outset I knew I wasn't going to work much, but it was inevitable that I come - had to handle a few important issues (see the status of few defects, check for replies from onsite team etc etc) which dont take more than an hour at the most. The rest is written into history as what is commonly called as 'Gandhi Kanakku' (Etymology : Madras Tamil). Forgive my pun in extending it beyond its traditional usage for financial accounting.

I just tried too hard to sleep yesterday. Not that often do I feel so insecure and disturbed by someone else's sorrow. Not that I do not get affected, but am more stone than what many people around me believe. With all due respects, I am faltering yet again. The final hurdle is still miles away and yet I believe I can reach there. For there is only one in this journey and all that is left is to finish it.

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Of Battles and Wars

I always liked history subject during my school-days. I cannot trace why I had this peculiar passion but it hasn't quenched completely yet. More than half of my wiki searches are related to history and I love reading about wars, voyages and the romances of the past. More than anything else, I like reading about wars and battles.

Frankly, the bloglet was supposed to be written about battles and wars of the mind, but had to plow through a bit of my own history to let others know why I talk a lot about them. Leaving history aside (mine included), I always had liked wars. Now, before calling me a war-mongering opressor, you would have to understand that I don't like to participate in wars nor do I support them but read about them as facts. Just about everything in this world is war and almost everything isn't - I said 'almost'.

I use the analogy of war a lot. For me everything is a war, a day is the period of war between myself and this world, a bug is a war raged by the program against me and an exam is a war where I fight both my teacher and my competitor. In the last case, I have the option of losing to both or winning both - the thought of it makes me more unassailable. I go beyond this to frame my own related analogies - battlefields, ammunition, strategy and even spies (reading about battles is a waste, if you haven't had the chance to know the spy-stories).

Lets rest at that. Sometimes I wonder if I could do a thesis on it! It would be boring...I would lose

 "Losing a battle is not losing a war"

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Cannot get a title

The little hiatus I took from my blog has largely gone unnoticed. But since I believe I write only for myself and no one else, I took little effect of it upon me. The real reason is not that I was hauled by work, I will always remain so, but I had simply nothing to tell.

Writing a blog at the start was easier for I had a lot to tell. English was not my forte then, nor it is now, but I simply wrote so that I had something to read about myself in my future years. Little had I known that I would become voracious one day about blogging and there would be 30 people commenting in my blog (it happened a while ago, but I forgot to gloat then). Now its back to shambles - very unkempt, poorly managed, rarely read and just as I like it.

I have always noticed that I write well after I come from a break. If I tend to write five times a week, they more or less come in the same style and with same thoughts. My blogs also tend to show a lot about my mood at the moment.

I cannot rate the best among my best bloglets, but there is one favourite line of mine. I was describing the visit to my father's place in the hills and how the house I once lived in had broken down. It was in shambles, very different from what it was. I concluded '...and that made it two of us'. This day I would probably be saying the same thing to a bum in the streets. The shatters of my ego are too widely distributed to even collect them, much less reconcile...

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The teacher; The art of war

I am as stubborn as it comes. I let go none of what I believe in and very rarely repent a thing that I did. Sometimes, I do wonder what kind of a egotist brat I am and I shudder instantly, for egotists don't ever repent. Sometimes I do repent, but that are exceptions and certainly for exceptional persons.

I took a vow once, not too long back but I broke it today. I could have avoided it, but I felt avoiding it would ruin the very purpose of the oath. Truth be told, I had to praise myself for this extrodinary reason I found, but I felt it more near to truth than anything else, nonetheless.

The blog is not about that broken vow - its about my transformation. Somehow I am beginning to believe that 'The fountainhead' was probably not what changed me. When I recall a few incidents in my life, I feel I have always stood by these principles. Its just a theory that I probably learnt from Howard Roark, as to how to apply it in life. As I have always believed there is still one difference between me and him - something that I couldn't help. A fresh start is never an option in this...

"If you want my advice, Peter," he said at last, "you've made a mistake already. By asking me. By asking anyone. Never ask people. Not about your work. Don't you know what you want? How can you stand it, not to know?"  - Howard Roark

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