Nineteen Eighty Four

I guess I am finally beginning to understand some bits of 1984. I read the damn thing long back and liked it for its literary riches. I kinda wondered why people liked it so much for its content. Its not that I was a total dumb nut when I read it and did not understand the book at all, but I am most certain that I did not dive deep into it at that time. I knew it was great stuff but it failed to strike the right chord somehow.

Now, after all these long years, when I can actually relate to its characters, I realize how deep, how intense the book was. How complex were the contents, how rich were the feelings. I now think and wonder if people around me were really smart enough to internalize the entire novel. Were they really able to relate to it and understand why they were appreciating it? I find it hard to believe that a person of 21-22 years of age with no extra worldly exposure than I had, could ever feel the pull and get gravitated towards the core of the book.

Anyway, why do I let me bother with what they did. Either they all pretended or I was really really dumb. Does it really matter now? In worst case they were not pretending. That only makes me feel more stupid and defeated. But once you start relating to 'Winston smith', does it really matter? No extra shard of defeat is stark enough to make you feel more miserable. You have already reached your saturation.

Well, this piece of blog is not meant to be a book review. I write because I have started feeling like Winston myself. And why just Winston, isn't the NEO (or Mr Anderson) of matrix pretty much made of the same soil? Always living in a suspicion that some supernatural evil has programmed him into doing what he does every day, every hour, every moment. In matrix, it were the machines. In 1984, it was the elusive Big Brother. And in my everyday life, its just so many of them. A different Big Brother in every sphere, a new Agent Smith at every turn.

Just like Winston and NEO, I too look at them as my enemies. I fight against them every moment. As a matter of fact there have been many such battles, and there have been many such endings when I feel I have outdone them, I have been able to break the pattern. But the very next moment makes me realize that even this victory was programmed. The new path which I am feeling so proud of having achieved is nothing but another pre-defined road to nothingness. The integral part of this cycle is that there is no exit, or may be there is and its just I who cant see through it. And then there is this most surprising feature. As I go through this cycle of vague victories and self realizations, the amount of vagueness in these victories starts to faint. I stop feeling that the victories were programmed and meant simply nothing. Voluntarily, I start marching towards that biggest defeat, probably the last leg of this rigor. A moment when these victories, these achievements will not feel vague anymore. As I cross this point of inflection, I shall probably have taken the biggest plunge. The very next achievement that comes my way will feel like a real one, a very real one. The one I will actually rejoice. The one I will throw parties for. I firmly believe that this is the moment I shall actually have become one of them. I shall have completely transformed.

A little late, but I am doing it.

Well, let me do it PI style today.

Those who are not aware, PI is a brilliant movie directly from the den of Darren Aronofsky ('Requiem for a Dream' fame) and stands tall among my favourites hollywood flicks.

6:45, Lying on couch, putting a full stop to a nightful of dreams, I open my eyes to the world of realities and possibilities. still drowsy. Shut them again. what the heck, another snooze, world can wait 9 more minutes for me.

6:54, I don't give a shit, another snooze

7:03, You gotta wake up you $%&*$%*$^&%, you wanna get late for office ? you wanna get in that shitty hinjewadi traffic again ? cummon, wake up beat it.

7:05, Rub my eyes hard, finally push aside the sheet and get up. Bloody hell, another day begins. Open the door, newspaper guy still sleeping. I will kill the SOB when he comes collecting money. I need the newspaper first thing in the morning.

7:55, daily chores finished.......!!!!

Kickstart my bike. Suspect again, is it really giving me the thump and fire I want or I am still being fooled by that Alex guy. Plug in my iPod and journey starts.

Minute by minute, song after another song, kilometer after kilometer, wallowing in infinite thumps, the road passes by. I resolve to write something today. Its been a week since I promised myself to write something here. When you lose an old habit, you have to make such crappy resolutions to get a purchase on it again. Otherwise why will effort be needed for something you love to do.

8:20, reach office. park the bike.
8:28, Swipe in and wait for lift.
8:30 Login. Check my Mails.

Hell.....are you kidding me.....no issues....no problems, guess I will finally get time to paint my blog with words.

Here I am....!! I could beat myself...!! I win, I defeat myself...!!

I am being pathetic

I do understand when the effort is not followed by the result but why is desire sometimes not followed by an effort ? It gives me enough reasons to hate myself.
I remember putting up small notes which would never mature into a final blog but in last few months I have been just pathetic. Even those notes which would have, should have or could have converted into something tangible have dried up.I have touched the peaks into this pathetic being. Let alone the effort, I have observed even the desire fading into lethargy. Only time I feel inspired enough to write is when I ride my Bike. I am happy that at least she has not stopped inspiring me.

Well, let me now try to put something up here at least once every week.

Wish me luck.

After a long time

I am amazed at myself. I am amazed at the length of time that has elapsed since I last wrote something. Laziness, pure laziness. An integral part of me :)

I see that last time I wrote was during my journey back to Pune and again I am writing while traveling. Its some sort of a kick that journeys give me. I am always in a positive mood and I have a lot of time and most important of all, I have my laptop.

Let me write about the most inspiring event of last few days. A few months back, my mom called me and asked me, 'What is a blog'. I fumbled for a while before I went on explaining her about it. I myself am a blogger, even though not a very regular one, but when it comes to explaining a layman about what a blog is, I didn't find it easy. My mom regularly reads a local news paper 'Amar Ujala'. I am a perpetual hater of level of Hindi Journalism in our country (Not that English Journalism is of top class). Media has distorted this beautiful language to such menial levels that it has almost fallen to irrecoverable levels. But despite that, Hindi News papers are able to supply a cognizant reader some stuff which is of his/her interest and at a general level, it is appreciable as well. My mom's awareness about the term 'BLOG' originated from this very world of Hindi Journalism.

I explained her what a blog is, why people write, how they earn money, how does it become popular, who are the readers etc etc. She showed interest. But then I forgot about everything until a few days back when she called me up and asked another question 'What do I need to do if I want to start writing a blog'. It was not unexpected from a lady of her enterprise but still, it caught me by surprise. I did not think she can be serious about it. So I brushed it off. Then she called me again the next day. then again, then again. I finally succumbed. I took out a few moments from my pseudo-busy schedule and created her log in for her on Blogspot. I explained her how to log in, write and publish.

She is quite enthusiastic in such matters but still I never expected her to be as fast as she turned out to be. I was literally stunned when only after a few hours she declared that her first blog is on the net. Man...!! I didn't believe her. It was such a big surprise for me.

How many hurdles she must have faced while doing it. First of all, her low comfort levels with a laptop and then the Internet usage. Then the great grandfatherly speeds that the Internet walks with in my hometown. She sure must have tried more than a dozen times connecting to net before she could actually publish it. On Top of that, the general discomfort that old people face while adopting to newer things. All in all it was not a good deal. But she overcame everything and successfully posted something on her blog.

Well, it may all sound too small a thing to do but what I want to emphasize here is that it inspired me a lot. How frequently do I exhibit such levels of enthusiasm and enterprise. This post after such a hiatus is a proof enough of my laziness. Except for a few occasions like 'biking trips', I rarely come out of the comfort zone and attempt something that I had never tried before or my peers have never tried before.

A very very good lesson learnt. I just hope I can carry this and benefit myself.

.....

"...For this is what we do. Put one foot forward and then the other. Lift our eyes to the snarl and smile of the world once more. Think. Act. Feel. Add our little consequence to the tide of good and evil that flood and drain the world. Drag our shadowed crosses into the hope of another night. Push our brave hearts into the promises of a new day. With love: the passionate search for a truth other than our own. With longing: the pure ineffable yearning to be saved. For so long as fate keeps waiting, we live on. Good help us. God forgive us. We live on....."

shantaram