Wednesday, May 14, 2008

Losing it as the end draws near

Minutes to midnight, and I'm still far from confident for my last exam. The syllabus is so messed up! A sprinkle of this, a dash of that, it feels like they're trying to make it look good just on paper - to deceive the audience that ours is a balanced and thorough course. 'A larger pile of papers' is more like it. Nobody cares anymore.

Had a listen to a remix one of my classmates had emailed. It was miserable. Had to put on Thomas Newman to cleanse my ears. Emergency measures.

For the next hour I'll be vacillating between my books and the net. Its too risky to boot the computer late night - hours fly by idling away time. Much of the relationship I've had with my machine this semester has been passive. Its been so, with all of the following factors contributing to equal levels: adjusting to the lifestyle of living alone, absence of any net connection for the first couple of months, minor affair with fiction, wanderlust - more than ever, longing for Elin, coming across my beast of a new laptop (and vista and all its irritations) and {silence}. Meh, but I've been up and about with other stuff. Just stuff that doesn't give me any direction for my future :P Lots of random new stuff.

ps: just maield the friend about how miserable his song was. now i mix up another cup of coffee and try to carry it through the night. a few more blogposts in my caffeinated frenzy, perhaps.

Tuesday, May 13, 2008

Right Place, Right Light

First time this year will I be coming across a full moon while out in the hills. I've been unfortunate this far - being there at the wrong times. The moon was always far from giving that grandiose feeling. In January it was nonexistent altogether, and in its last quarters during both my March and April-end trips. Mismatch between the pande cycle and the lunar cycle.

This month, we have a full moon on the 20th. There can't be any better date for that. I would be out in the Himalayas - the heart of it. Most likely camping out in Rudraprayag, or amongst the snows of Kedarnath. I expect both to be a scenic delight at night. While Kedarnath would offer an unobstructed view of some of the highest himalayan peaks - painted even more white in the moonlight, one can expect great landscapes along the confluence of rivers at Rudraprayag. With the peaks up ahead and the civilization lying below, it can get quite uplifting. If my friends can refrain from 'Truth of Dare' kinda juvenile games on evenings, I will try scribbling about the night.

Moonlit nights are very special to me. Still remember the magic, the feel. Lone walks through the jungle road on way back to Gethia, chilly winds that makes you turn your head in veneration of a larger being, silence that is compensated for by the pounding of your heart - a pounding that grows in anticipation of something dramatic along the way.
And just because the white light brings the landscape in one's sight, Jim Corbett comes alive. All his tales spring up in your head. Imagination runs wild, surpassing the actual wilderness that surrounds you. You expect some large animal, preferrably of the feline species, atop that ledge a few hundred metres away. It might be observing you for the past few minutes. It might be on the move now, rushing through the grass. You wait for those eyes to light up, you wait for any hints of swift movement through the grass, you wait for a growl. But that never comes - its all inside your head. A relief of sorts as well.

You come across a sharp bend and stop dead, close your eyes and raise your hands in ecstasy of the moment. You stand facing - opposing - the city lights huddled together in the darkness of the surrounding mountains. At one with yourself. You realise that this is the most honest version 'reality' that you will ever live through. What some can only dream of.

Sunday, May 11, 2008

Whites and Blacks

Whatever the world might have to say about the benefits of white clothes over black, one thing cannot be refuted - you never look shabby in black. White clothes, seemingly, age with time faster than the black ones do. Whites gets dirty quite easily and have a shorter wash cycle.

Some people stick with white because it looks saintly, the color of God. They say black is the color of evil, the Satan. I can only say that it points to a bad decision on the almighty's part.

Firstly, it leads to embarrassment knowing that 'The Creator' did not have means to invent the process of dyeing any of the earthly colors onto fabric. Maybe he didn't have a color table for help - why he failed picking up any of #BDB76B, #C3B091, or #F0E68C for the colors of his attire. Not only would the earthly colors been more tolerant to looking dirty, they would have helped God move through the lands without scaring his creation. Roll back a gazillion years and think about those dumb sauropods panicking at midnight seeing some apparition in white float by...

Secondly - just imagine - God moving across the entire universe, spreading the message of love and peace, and impregnating barren lands with his creation. Satan on the same journey to promote his empire of think-and-do-evil.
God is forced to take breaks to wash his whites. Sometimes it is just too embarrassing to approach the mortals in dirty clothing. God has to put his creation time researching in complex emulsifiers and wettings agents that can give best results. Then he has to face the question of whether to dispose of his old tarnished whites or not. It is difficult because God has no God to look for answers.
Satan, on the other hand is all happy in his blacks. Black helps him move stealthily across planets, as it absorbs all light and that can only help when all you're surrounded by is dark matter. Satan does not need care about keeping his blacks clean. They will always look the same. Satan says: "Well, if they get any more dirty, they can only be more - black - duh!" And Satan gets a lead over God. The message of evil is the 'in' thing now among what God had originally created.

God summons Satan one day, and talks over a change of dress code. He feels sick wearing 'all that white'. "But I picked it first, ain't letting you have it", says Satan. God tries using reverse psychology on him to invert the evil to good but that doesn't work. Since Satan had to travel across a quarter of the universe to meet God, he asks for one of God's favorite spells in return. Satan would later reverse engineer it to create that fireball effect now identified with hell.

Evil empires stand everywhere now, only a few good remain. Those counted among the good become conceited and arrogant and keep to themselves. God's purpose seems defeated. He goes into 'sorta' depression. The twisted thinking results in his creation of Earth, at last - where we get to take any side that we'd like than being forced to absorb the message of God. And yet there are those who try to force their opinions under the deception of 'message of God', making God cringe in pain.

PS: Search for 'saint' on google image search (even with safe search ON) and the very first result is good enough to show the inverted ways of our planet. so lets sin!

Simplicity at a twisted level

You could be no more off the target if you like me for 'being simple'. Being simple is not a quality, its a curse. Just because I cannot match your levels of excitement, or be as dramatic, or fail to grasp the gravity of the situation does not make me very cool, does it? Makes me boring, to the contrary. Won't you rather like friends who will react to your situation in resonance to you? Maybe they get you better - as if they are an extension to yourself. I don't, far from it.

I consider myself a good listener. When I listen about things you have to say, I try to understand them. I try to form an opinion and communicate it back. My 'simple' side comes out when I am unable to do that. Passing something off as inconsequential or petty is my defense when I come across something I've been ignorant about. Just so that I don't look stupid. Well, that is what I am. Should not feel very shy in admitting that. Worse than those schmucks who are publically ridiculed for all their braindead doings. My 22 years of life, and all I can end up is looking simple. 'Blank' is a better synonym.

Being labeled simple is insulting. See myself in all complex ways - goldmine for a brain. I don't feel comfort at the simple undercurrent of tribal or carnatic music. I like music with weight - packed with instruments, packed with energy, packed with ambiguous lyrics and subtle references. I relish my tea with ginger and cardomom added. I even managed to read and comprehend Fountainhead, for God's sake! So when you say I give a 'simple' opinion, its directly at my nuts where you are kicking at - with lethal force.

PS: never again would I use references to 'The Fountainhead' this lightly

Friday, May 09, 2008

Another Day Passes by

Today was a day well-slept indoors. Dry fruits and Nine Inch Nails making a comeback tour into my life. NiN's "The Downward Spiral" is explosive, especially the first 4 tracks - Mr. Self Destruct, Piggy, Heresy, March of the Pigs - they pack unparalleled energy. Then follows Closer, which belongs to another dimension. I think Shaurya's the only one who has learnt of my veneration towards it - left row, lower bed, Jispa, to be specific. Me busy with NiN, him with his journal (I wonder if that ever saw the light).

Today was a day in contrast to yesterday, when I was with and about friends throughout the day - Anikesh, Parul, Yogesh, Saurabh (in that same order of appearance) - with Yogesh staying for the night. Yogesh's increasing levels of knowledge make for a great conversation. Him, Saurabh and me got debating on larger-than-life topics - societies, socialism, communism, human rights, individualism, realism, Marx, what not. Saurabh left dazed, he wanted to stay and talk more. It must've been quite a change from his leisurely routine of staring at the fan blades. My argument revolved around how an individual can thrive in any society, and if rights are being curbed either for supression or in the name of community, then the society doesn't deserve being called so - it should be labeled a 'tribe' instead - say, a "communist tribe". Its amusing hearing all the varied theories, but ends there for me. I'm not very inclined to either pick up much, or contribute towards such debates. I wonder now if silence would've been equally gripping, had we tried so for a while.

Coming back to today...the only time I got out was in the evening to forage for food. The only involving sight I recall was a black pariah dog sleeping under the streetlight. He had such honesty about his face. Its funny, because the first person I came across evoked bitterness (something illogical, irresposible on his part) while the first animal I see evoked pity - NO, not that, affinity is more like it. And yet the dog lives to live a dog's life, that man lives to indulge.

Writing about the day, we just entered a new one...and now my heart is full.

Sunday, May 04, 2008

Artificial Intelligence and the Answers to Life

Artificial Intelligence abounds in profundity. Maybe it set out to find an answer to life, after all. I don't read any religious or spiritual texts, but you can never tell which direction enlightenment comes from.

Chapter 2, 'Production Systems' carries a topic describing the characteristics of a problem. One of such characteristics debates on 'If the solution is a state or the path to a state'. Let me put that in double quotes and make it more obvious: "If the solution is a state or the path to a state". Aha! that just puts everything worldly into frame. Forces us to think whether our aim - if we have one - is more important than the means we plan to use to achieve it. Whether we wish to reach our destiny by doing anything possible or whether we attach more significance to what we do midway than the destiny itself. Whether actions take preference over the aim, or the vice versa.

Feel like Frances(Owen Wilson) from "The Darjeeling Limited", where he picks up on a line by Brendan - "We haven't located us yet" - and derives a much deeper meaning from it, while all it was in reference to was their train taking a wrong route and getting lost.

Hopefully I come across more of it, still have 90% of the course left. The first 10% has been so profound!
Came across something very interesting while studying for my AI exam, in "Artificial Intelligence" by Elaine Rich, Kevin Knight. What follows is an excerpt...

There are many heuristics that, although they are not as general as the nearest neighbor heuristic, are nevertheless useful in a wide variety of domains. For example, consider the task of discovering intersting ideas in some specified area. The following heuristic [Lenat, 1983b] is often useful:
"If there is an interesting function of two arguments f(x,y), look at what happens if the two arguments are identical."

In the domain of mathematics, this heuristic leads to the discovery of squaring if f is the multiplication function, and it leads to the discovery of an identity function if f is the function of set union. In less formal domains, this same heuristic leads to the disvoery of introspection if f is the function 'contemplate' or it leads to the notion of suicide if f is the function 'kill'.

Saturday, May 03, 2008

Optimism, Pessimism and calling something 'Art'

I don't complain about something that works on an entirely different level of abstraction and symbolism - like David Lynch's "Eraserhead" - but those movies which try to come to notice by adding a tone of pessimism to the scripts - something like "Lilja 4ever". Trying to force you to accept that 'life is like that' or making it difficult just so that it doesn't get obvious. Things ending, people dying just because they weren't supposed to in commercial cinema. And no, its not a depiction of reality or documenting things as they are. Its just a sad play at things to qualify as having a vision.

Optimisim is inherent to us. We used to, and forever will continue to wish well for the one we identify with on the screen - one among the protagonists or the innocent third person that never had to do anything with the kerfuffle anyways.
A long drive on any sort of road is a realisation in our optimist tendencies. The concern for the scores of birds or animals that you find idling in the middle of your road is a confirmation. Birds, especially, play on that dramatic urge inside us that wants to see survival of any species. They'll just sit there, oblivious to your approach. You grow impatient, more so if a passenger. You feel like you're going to reduce something to pulp in a short while - the feeling grows as you get closer. Closer. Now the bonnet shields the birds from your sight. Yours legs stiffen, heart skips a beat, as you wait for a low thud. But nothing. You pass by the spot, to find the birds safely fluttering away on either side of the road. Seinfeld put it right - we have a pact with them!

One sad incident I recall has relation to this. Was 10 years back, when driving from Lucknow to Gethia with family. When our car ran over a squirrel. The poor thing was in the middle of the road, and sensed our approaching vehicle a little too late. It would've been fine if it had either done that earlier, or been completely oblivious to it. But a late judgement made it run for the trees right when our car passed by. A gentle crunch of the bones. Pulp. The crunch was inversely loud in volumes inside me, as I still remember it.

So screw you, rubbish 'art' movies. Everytime I come across one of you, I think of the squirrel and wish that it would've lived. I wish Lilja would've lived.
This great urge to infer from my previous post...something very different from my usual blogging. Something, perhaps, more personal. Me at the receiving end of my analysis.
My friend Parth (aka jabba) has a hint. But neither about the whole rant, nor about the theory that led to it. The text lies in my scratchpad, a mere question of making it public here...

But it might be ambiguous, people would derive other meanings.
Or perhaps comes back at me sometime.
Or that it'd be cruel or shocking or too revealing to some. I know that nobody reads this mental refuse, but even 1 acquainted audience would make a difference.

Thursday, May 01, 2008

That universal delight

One of the more indulgent feelngs in life is too easy to forget about. Small, simple things.

Remember the times when you were a child and stick your neck out of a car or bus on a cool day, right after the rains, or when cruising through the hills on a family vacation, (or on a village horse cart)? You're a grown up, but the impluse still remains, I know. But putting it as 'chil' gives it the credition of being something innocently honest and without and worldly leashes. The sudden shift to a different realm as the air hits you - as it caresses through your hair, leaving in a chaos at the tips of every single strand of those - is difficult to attach words with. You close your eyes in delight. A smile that would tear across your face as you fall deeper in the trance of the moment. No matter how harrowing the day/s have been, your face is radiant - a new, benevolent vibe that lingers on. The moment is a great equaliser of sorts - the children, men, women, cocker spaniels, pomeranians and many other species - all radiate a cheery youthfulness. May the moment never end. You are all with yourself, immersed in your zen. Maybe this is when epiphany strikes you. Its just around the corner...coming close &

Reader Beware! You choose the scare.

  • You are hit by an oncoming truck. Instant decapitation. You only feel a crunch of the neck bone. Go numb even before the pain hits you.
  • You are pulled back inside, and given a light scolding. It all goes unheard because you are yet to descend back to this world. That vibe, that radiant feeling fades away in inverse proportion to the square of the time passed by since. When it finally does, you are left with happiness, something warm inside. And then you spend your entire life in a sad state, knowing you were there once.


Ye free-spirit-wannabe.

My First Time

I am 22, and I still don't like either discussing about it much, or thinking over it. After years of fruitless trying - getting more desperate with each passing year - I've resigned it to fate. Some of my friends proudly claim to have been through the moment - even those whom I'd have never expected. I felt singled out sometimes. Peer pressure, maybe.

If you'd have asked me THE question the past week, I would've replied in negative, given a hopeless look, then 'd have got bitter about it. But it all changed on my latest trip to the hills.

Saw a snake! Caught another one! All in a single day.



Overjoyed at the happenings through the entire day. Being in the heart of the 'ravine of the dead' (murdaghat) makes it even more exciting. Surrounded by nothing but forests and wildlife. Plenty of trek and vertical climbs involved.

Always feels diseased 'being back' in Delhi

Just back from an exciting three days in the hills. Have preparation leave, hence am preparing myself for more travel and adventure to the best of my abilities. Purged myself of the sin of missing out on any such trips over the past few months. Desperation and love, both mix well.

Back in Delhi, and back with -
Mosquitoes. My welcome was with those bastards draining away some of my prime blood.

Heat. Its early morning, and I can feel the change already. Greater temperatures, combined with much greater suspended dust and other matter makes for a torturous couple of weeks ahead. Something lodged in my eye after my arrival in Delhi, and has been a constant irritation since.

Concrete Jungles. Don't know which to put first - overpopulation or greed for space or just irrationality. Urban structures seem to suggest that nature comes secondary. There is no harmony.

Saturday, April 26, 2008

A Childless Abode of God

As of 2001 India census, Gangotri had a population of 606. Males constitute 96% of the population and females 4%. Gangotri has an average literacy rate of 89%, higher than the national average of 59.5%: male literacy is 91%, and female literacy is 48%. In Gangotri, 0% of the population is under 6 years of age.


Had to read it twice to confirm, then follow the link to censusindia.net website to confirm for sure.

Gangotri sure makes for some weak figures in terms of female and infant populace. But I won't raise an alarm over it. No bridal genocide or baby barbeque. Rather, Gangotri is on high altitudes - extreme conditions.

Moreover, nobody settles in Gangotri for reasons other than religion or business. Those with religion in mind like to do so in isolation. No familial baggage. The pundits, might come along with their families, but these families generally migrate to lower reaches in winters, and dont make up for much of femal/child population anyways.

Those with business on their mind are exclusively there to provide services. The businessman contructs hotels and restaurants and bring (majorly male) labour from the plains in mass quantities. Sometimes they will delegate this task to other people, and themselves stay in the lower regions and manage finances. Even if they arrive in Gangotri themselves, they rarely bring their families along for the tourist season is over a narrow period of time and family doesn't bring any utility. Its better to have them studying and working in the lower reaches of the mighty mountains.

Much of the female/child population must be consisting of the old folks - back when Gangotri was a small village, with a few families. Those that were raised there and came to find it at ease. Not the lone sadhu or hungry seth.

Am I missing something here? Feels like it.

Thursday, April 24, 2008

Brain Damaged!

Discussion with close friends over participation in the faux farewell activities gave a good opportunity to let out some of the (contemptful) steam. Firstly, because it is self serving - we would be doing it for ourselves, no other element of NIEC involved. Secondly, because I'd not like being with people I've barely known over the past four years. Not much point in obsessing over the fact that I'm gonna be missing some strangers. Such are the distances that I can pass off my juvenile generalisations about each one of them very comfortably, like a 3rd person - no emotional baggages attached. Am yet to find out what part of NIEC I'll be missing once I graduate. Entire college life has been spent living a life away from it.

There are few that I've been in touch with - 'come to know', as they say. And among those that I've come to know, I could only loathe some. There are people being around whom you feel insulted and degraded. General frivolity is alright, but when things descend to the realm of the depraved - channeled towards the male ego that seems a threat and female vanity/dignity that seems a slap on your existence - is when I'd want to back out. Their thoughts and actions, both seem conceited and demeaning to those outside their comfort zone. There is little stopping me from smashing one such specimen against the canteen water cooler - the bastard ran over some pedestrian (suspects he killed him), only to flee away in his car and brag about it in the college since.

Then there are those who managed to trade their brain tissue for muscle tissue and feel boastful of it. Gym is cited as the epicenter of such changes. Health is not their primary concern. It is the potential to rule over the minions that gets them going. Fights are a normal outcome from such gym-inducded defeciencies. But, eh, not even that seems redeeming. They fight like babies. Totally ridiculous. The insecurities on their face visible even while they land their next greatest punch or kick - like they'd want to run away the very next instant.

And then come the converts, the people I'd hate the most. They gave up their integrity to wedge into the 'we put up a cool facade', or 'perverts united' groups. I saw potential in these people, and then they all fused into the common decaying body which we call "Batch of 2008, NIEC Delhi". Altered their lifestyle to feel appreciation/respect [that hangs by the edge of a needle]. Immediate reward. Instant gratification. Losers. Interestingly, I found this piece on Prefrontal Cortext that bears some relevance here...

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Prefrontal_Cortex
Subsequent studies, on patients with prefrontal injuries, have shown that the patients verbalized what the most appropriate social responses would be under certain circumstances, yet, when actually performing, they instead pursued behavior that is aimed at immediate gratification despite knowing the longer-term results would be self-defeating.

The interpretation of this data indicates that not only are skills of comparison and understanding of eventual outcomes harbored in the prefrontal cortex but the prefrontal cortex (when functioning correctly) controls the mental option to delay immediate gratification for a better or more rewarding longer-term gratification result. This ability to wait for a reward is one of the key pieces that define optimal executive function of the human brain.


Hm, its a pity living and competing amongst prefrontal cortex accident victims.
And I thought I was brain damaged to be ranting off like this.

Last of the college days...

Last day of the college. I won't want the feeling of associating with it rub in, so should prepare for a hasty retreat. That, or endless hours of table tennis. That tiny 9x5 ft ping pong table holds some good memories.

Have let all my guards down and have been openly expressing my disgust for the rot that set in (at least) our batch from the very first year. Serious discussions with amigos on why there's no need to participate in any of the last-day activities and create a false sense of brotherhood just for the sake of it. It seems so, because not even our juniors acknowledge our graduation. Nothing to mark our farewell. Maybe they weren't in awe of us. I could see that coming.
Horses grazing on short, green grass
Fog all around, dewdrops holding on to any surfaces they can find
A wide path running through the middle, turning sharply to the right
Something scurries along that path, a small creature
My body lying in a dry riverbed. On the stones. Face down. Have a white shirt on. It doesn't move. Seems dead. RIP

Monday, April 21, 2008

Taking some words back - lko pwns dli

Traveling from Kanpur to Lucknow by bus was enough to condition me to the change I would be expecting between the populous cities of Delhi and Lucknow. Change for the good. Started with a minor incident. The bus driver was busy with a quarrel at the time I - alongwith my baby brother - had boarded the bus. Soon enough, the quarrel got a bit loud, and we exected each side to bring out their share of expletives. Dirty, demeaning ones; and the bus drivers are so good at that. In such a situation, having a friend makes for some passive entertainment - crowds usually tend to do that instead of standing up (the you loser, me loser mentality) - but in the company of a relative, it disgusting in worse proportions. There I was, expecting a flurry of 'teri..'. But that never happened. The driver kept to his limits, winning the quarrel by sheer argument. I was surprised. It was same throughout the journey. None of his irritations came out as an undignified action.

It was comforting to know that I'd be reaching Lucknow soon - the city of 'Tehzeeb', something that would sound like a lesser-known Mughlai dish to the Delhiites. Not once in Lucknow do I recall coming across any cussing. And I'm referring to the time spent on the streets, of course. Lucknow sure is respectful. No wonder why the rich travelers end up feeling like Nawabs; the respect is so overwhelming. Leave aside the global greed and nationwide female insecurity for a while, Lucknow has its distinct charm.

Friday, April 18, 2008

A more real perception

Am writing this blogpost from Lucknow. Arrived here this morning. After little fiasco over missing the last of the metro trains, it was a relief when an autorickshaw managed to get us - me and by baby brother - to the station in time.

On one side I was miffed for being irresponsible and late. But on the other, I was thankful, for the autorickshaw ride through the anatomy of Delhi brought up a whole new feeling. Okay, it goes like this: The metro train characterises the modern side of Delhi. Easy, silent, clean commute. To follow that, we had our reservation in 3AC - something which I kinda loathe, but the parents find smart. That meant that we would've landed up in Lucknow with a sudden shock - slow pace of life, chaos, traffic madness, the perennial coat of d&g. To make it worse, Delhi's image in my short term memory would've contrasted to an extent that, upon return, it'd take a day to correct the perception. A short autorickshaw travel made sure that Delhi doesn't stick as a heaven when compared to Lucknow. It has the same human side, same demography living on the streets - people and dirt fighting for space, same cool night breeze, similar sections of damaged roads, same traffic banalities, same people looking for opportunity to make quick profits (the autorickshaw driver overcharged us on the excuse of it being too late in the night).

Plus point #2 (of missing the metro) - saved half an hour of boredom waiting at the station, had we caught the last metro train. That also made for half an hour of facebook and youtube for my brother, and convenient/relaxed travel for me.

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

Life is Worth More Than a Few Thousand Pixels

19th December, 2007, 14:30

I sit in Devraj Cafe, next to the legendary Lakshman Jhula (Rishikesh, India), observing the march of life on the wooden deck of the daunting [suspended] bridge. One thing common amongst much of the crowd - nationality hardly matters - is the need to freeze their favourite memories. An almost desperate need.
'Cameras out' as soon as you step onto the bridge.

Some hire a professional photographer, who is your accomplice in proving that you DID have a good time. Moreover, him being subservient to your whims probably adds more to the moment. And he guides you to make 'good' memories..One against the entire length of the bridge in frame. One against the brackdrop of the green waters of the Ganges... he's got complete freedom to play with the male pose, but can only ask the mrs. to come closer to her radiant beau and smile.
The others are content with their brownie cameras, with one member missing out per frame to be the one capturing the moment.

Stop being a slave to the future. You're sacrificing the sustained highs of now to create the "Good 'ol times" to reminisce for a decade from now. Being artificial, fixing yoru gaze on a 35mm(or smaller) sensor while so much passes by around you - its ridiculous.
Those walking with a video camera in hand are worse off. The camera becomes their new sight. The vistas they witness are technically limited to the specifics of the camera they hold. So a trip to the neighbourhood garden in bloom, and valley of flowers really makes no difference. They see nothing more than what the 100,000 odd pixels of LCD can show them, that too after quantising the colors to whatever closest value it matches.
ABSURD.

Thursday, February 07, 2008

04:01 05/02/2008

Woke up from a nightmare a few minutes back.

It began casually with me finding myself in a well-lit gallery of sorts, friends around, the usual smalltalk. And in an instant, they vanished into thin air. Not that I recall being a witness, or being concerned. When you are having a dream, things can progress in the most nonsensical fashion, and you won't feel anything abnormal around you; as it happened right then. I strolled around in the gallery that seemed endless. It stretched far, far; and tapered to a small dot on either ends - like a tube. Soft, yellow light filled up the gallery . Wooden walls; glazed, but empty panels.

Then appeared the little boy. I'll rewind a bit through the day, to acquaint him...
Football pulls many of us into attending college daily. We rarely attend to the classes, for they are few, compounded by the fact that our teachers are an uninspiring bunch. It was the same yesterday. A single lecture, and then we had the day all to ourselves. Oh yes, that means - Football. Just a small bunch of us friends, much of our official team tired and spent after a tournament - where we lost in the finals - just the previous week. A slovenly kid - must be no more than 8 - flanked the sidelines throughout our game, fetching our ball after it had gone out of play, no matter which direction. After the initial concerns of him running away with our ball were done with, we let him hang around. He was disruptive - though infrequently - which I reason to his eagerness to be a part of the game and was lightly scolded on such instances. After an hour of fractured football, we were packing. He stood far, watching us, smashing bricks into small pieces for no apparent reason. A couple of my friends were on their own high ridiculing each other's antics; and they pulled in (lewd) references to the boy midway. The sudden attention must've given him a rush. As of children...the best they can think of in such circumstances is doing something disruptive or violent, hence his actions intensified. Eventually, he was shooed away and ignored. He asked me for the football to play with, but we were about to leave, and I declined.

Back to the dream...The same boy was standing some distance away, a small green ball in his hands. He threw it in my general direction and the ball went past me, rolling along the endless tube. He made a run to fetch it; and at that instant I realised that I had a similar ball once that I had now lost. I realised that it might be that very ball. The kid must've stolen it. Within a few seconds, my ignorance to what he was or had been doing had turned into a confirmation of him being a thief against whom I had to jostle and recover my ball. I turned around, and made a run for the ball. I saw a moment of disbelief on the boy's face - he must've been surprised on how the realisation came so sudden. And the next thing I remember is the boy agressively tugging at the back of my shirt and my belt, his contorted face an evidence to the mammoth effort by his standards. My acceleration was broken, feet trying to keep balance against the load anchored to my waist, wlidly swinging to and fro.
Then I felt as if the boy's hands grew in size. Their grip tightened. My motion was completely halted. I could feel my rib cage being crushed, like a machine pressing you frm all the sides. The ball was not a concern anymore. I was struggling for breath. About to die, maybe.

suddenly I found myself in my own room, under a single blanket, breathing heavily. I was awake - or so I thought. "Whew, just a dream." I could still feel something tightening around my body. It was my blanket. "I'll just lie the same for a while. It always receds." But I found something different about my room. I looked around. The bed I was sleeping on was thrice its usual size. My other bed was missing. The room seemed larger. Then I glanced to my right, and there was a man at the far end of the bed, wrapped in the same blanket, close to falling off.
A bald, white man dressed in office formals; nothing too bright. Average height and build. His face was flat; the nose was small and appeared as if somebody had punched him hard a long time back. He was breathing heavily. Sweat dripped off his face, the beads glistening against the white light. It looked as if he had been through a rough time as well. But he didn't seem to notice me around.
I connected things to infer that he was somehow at the receiving end of my nightmares. Like my metaphysical clone. Experiencing the same things as me. Now I wasn't too sure if I was awake or not, but knew that I had control over things in my current world. And all I wanted was to see that man's suffering. Playing GOD. I wished that the blanket would twirl around his neck like a serpent, and it did. The man was shaking, gasping for breath. Then I let him go. Next I wished that the blanket would gag him, and eventually choke him to death. It did so. It was a pleasure seeing that. I knew what was to happen, hence the same didn't affect me - just felt a little heavy on the chest, that's all.

And soon I experienced being lifted to another state of consciousness. My room assumed its regular dimensions. Normal objects came into sight. The man was gone. I snapped back into the real(?) world, out of sleep.

Infer at your own mental expense.