4th Semester, until May

Tags

Manipal

If semesters were like seasons of a TV show, this would be the one with the lowest ratings. Which is to say, nothing much happened or changed. I am glad it didn’t, because in my life drama is mostly related to me pulling myself deeper into trouble.

It has been raining in regular intervals in Manipal. I am usually very platonic towards the arrival of a season, but this time (probably because of the self inflicted slow pace of my life) my appreciation for things like weather has grown manifold. Earlier, the most important thing about Monsoon was the water. Now, it is the olfactory experience. Dark clouds made me run home quickly at one point. Now, I feel that if ever there’s a weather perfect for walking, it is then.

Other than that, this season (the whole semester, in fact) has also been perfect for discovering films. Never has there been a phase in my life, where I’ve watched so many brilliant films over a period of a few months. Reading, has not been bad, and I am sure that with the waning love for the internet,  it will improve.

As for my novel, it is coming along slowly. But, I hope to pick up pace once I reach home. This time round, I will not let my mother interfere with my work (or cause pandemonium in the house) due to petty issues like smoking. “A man full of virtues, deserves a vice.”, as they say.

Looking ahead to a weekend

No, I am not going on some vacation or seeking relaxation. I am instead, planning to clean my house, and do my pending assignments (I cannot afford to have more ambition than that). I figured the best way to wage a battle against my true nature (which likes continuous brainwaves) and do these measly tasks is by making a blog post.

I’d really love to make this post a big rant on things, and feel fresh, but unfortunately I’m aware that if I do it, guilt will consume me after a while. As of now, according to plain logic, my priority in life should be to fight and have a career where I can fulfill my dreams. If nothing, I should at least work hard enough so that later in life I am able to hold my head high amongst my peers of today. Or else, my egoistic self will abandon them forever.

Ever since, I’ve become aware of things, I have longed for a source of focus- a thought to live your life by, a crisis that brings your best out, a companion who gives a constant source of drive and to whom you don’t want to lie, etc. But all I’ve found are these sources of failure- late night inspiration, this feeling of being made for a different purpose than the rest, the damned stories of artists in their struggling period, these totally lovely highs of expressing myself, the hope that someday all these years of toil and hard work of living by these self made romantic principles will pay off, this conviction that even if things go wrong (‘not being able to go to a reunion because you can’t afford it’ brand of wrong), a man like me can survive with just as much beauty.

Now, I have been conditioned to think like this. Self Help books about success make me pukish. (Honestly, I can puke. That was not figurative. I wish I could read them and be inspired to beat everyone and win the race.) Conditioning error.

I also know the kind of advice, people would give to that, and feel as if their experience and wisdom can solve everything. “Make a routine to work at least 2 hours everyday.”, “Why do you underrate yourself so much? You can do great.”,”It happens to me too when my body clock is fucked.”, “You are just 21 now. Stop talking and study.”, and the only logical one according to me, “Try, try, till you succeed.”

The reason I cannot keep trying and trying, is that if I conquer it in such a manner, a day will come when in a fit, I will make an attempt to go back to my previous conditioning. It happens.

__________

That’s it. Enough release that was.

Personal Manifesto

In the order of preference:

1.  Develop your taste as far as possible in Literature and Cinema. Use Music only for relaxation, not to seek enrichment.
2.  Write, read as much as possible. So that one day when you wake up and realize that  you lack depth, and your words evoke no emotion at all, you’ll at least have the reassurance of having worked hard for it.
3.  Be kind to the people who have suffered. (Everyone suffers.) Channelize your ruder energies, towards people who want to make you suffer. Or your mother.
4.  Never ever feel too insulted if you do not meet the basic requirements that your friends and family expect from you. What they expect from you, is so much less glorious than what you expect from yourself. However, disappointing them for no other reason other than to just rebel, is also not good for you. Disappoint, if you must.
5.  Feel guilty for having fun, for days. Or slacking off without productivity of thought. Consider yourself, too good to be a hedonist.
6.  Keep Romance alive in your heart. Not just for the opposite sex, but for experiences. Like getting wet in the rain, or running for long distances to get rid of emotional strain, dancing when nobody is watching, whistling while walking, etc. (These are cliche’s, yes, but do not try to be different for the sake of it.)
7.  Edit this Manifesto, once every 6 months. And yes, have empathy for people holding opposite views.

Influenced

Tags

Albert Camus, Birthday, Nobel Prize, Nobel Prize in Literature

“Another 30 minutes now, and I’ll go off to sleep. I cannot afford to miss class tomorrow. This week is supposed to be the reformation week.”, Lekhchand told himself, while looking at random things on his Tumblr dashboard. There were a couple of typograhy posters, a few photographs, funny subtitled screenshots of films, and various kinds of advice to writers. (All of them tolerable. Since, Lekhchand didn’t really follow stuff that pissed him off.)

But, amongst all this, what really caught Lekhchand’s eye was this quote:

An intellectual? Yes. And never deny it. An intellectual is someone whose mind watches itself. I like this, because I am happy to be both halves, the watcher and the watched. “Can they be brought together?” This is a practical question. We must get down to it. “I despise intelligence” really means: “I cannot bear my doubts.”

-Albert Camus

Once again in his life, Lekhchand was intoxicated by how beautifully the quote validated his existence for the time being. Almost impulsively, he highlighted the author and right clicked in order to get the “Google Albert Camus” option. A Wikipidea page could never be too far away from that.

First thing to strike Lekhchand was that he was French. “A beautiful country, in appearance and in art.”, he thought.

The next thing he noticed, was that he had won a Nobel Prize for literature. “Well done, my boy. In a sea of second rate art, you managed to pluck out a Nobel Laureate. Impressive.”, he thought, letting out a smirk.

The next thing he observed closely, was the portrait. But, what struck him with maximum force though, was what lay below the portrait. Albert Camus’ birthdate was the same as Lekhchand’s.

“What a coincidence. This can’t be anything, but a genuine coincidence.”,

Lekhchand thought, making a mental note to buy his novels, next time he has cash to spend for a book. This is bound to be a find.

Brother Called

Tags

Family, Home, Mothers, Parenting, Sibling

I have been brought up in such a domestic environment where there was always a lot of cold blood between me and my brother. To begin with, I as a smaller and a much more good looking kid, received lots of adulation from my mother. Then, I was sent to a much better school. Reason being: I was a weaker student, who needed better education to survive.

My brother on the other hand, was always considered to be some sort of a prodigy- one on whom the expectations of the whole kin were there. Looking at his performance in the earlier classes, people thought he’d go to IIT and all. As for me, I suffered from immense demoralization due to the lack of my academic performance. People said, that all my other virtues like kindness and apathy were moot, if I didn’t study hard. And, all his bad qualities like selfishness and everything were forgiven because he was doing well academically.

Somewhere, along the line- I accepted that I was a bad kid. And laughed it out. Every man is made differently, I felt.

The result of all this underlying envy, led to me and him avoiding any talk amongst each other. Except, if it was about some sports tournament, movie or some news issue. Things you can talk about even to a stranger.

The day I reached the age of 16, my father passed away. My brother was in second      year engineering then, and it was made clear to him that he’ll have to earn and support my education after 12th. In an attempt, to save some cash I joined a normal Arts course, and soon realized that I couldn’t take it. I was angered by how I had to rely on him for my education, and I did relay it to my mother. I even said, that I will not study at all, but won’t take his money.

However, things never got ugly and somehow everything was managed. Ultimately, I was convinced to take the money. And, he to give it.

__________________________________________________________________

Yesterday evening, I saw a missed call from my brother. I didn’t call back. Probably he is calling to ask me on what date he should reserve my ticket to Mumbai.

Today morning, he again called (and I was sleeping). This was not characteristic of him. Could it be that he is wanting to relay some terrible bad news? I immediately called my mother to find out. She found it funny, that I was worried, and told me that my brother had been attending some sort of a ‘life-changing’ seminar for the past few days. Relieved, I joked about how all this seminar scene is old and impractical. One or two days, he’ll feel transformed. After that, he’ll come back to his self.

A couple of hours back, he called (we spoke in our mother tongue, but I’ll try my best to translate. and yes, the italicized dialogue is of my brother’s.”

“Mummy told me that you were scared when I called. What is this? I am your brother, if I call you you’ll be scared.”

“No no. It’s just that usually you don’t call so I was thinking up of all the possibilities.. I called mom, and she said that you attended a seminar and wanted to talk about things.”

(Random conversation about what the seminar was happened.)

“Yes, so I was listening to these people, and felt that I was missing out on a lot of things. I felt like talking to you because, we have never been like what brothers should be.“, my brother said. I thought he was the sort of man, who’d die rather than speak such things.

“I think it is because of our age difference. So we cannot connect to a lot of things.”

“Yes, I always thought of myself as your Guardian, and felt that strict behavior would be the best thing to do. Now, I realised that no- I am not fulfilling my responsibility of a brother.”

“Yes. In 1 and a half years, of my Manipal life I have never spoken to you except the customary Hi and Hello. Always, I called my mother only.”

“Exactly. I don’t think we have shared anything with each other.”

“No, it was always about sports, and other things. If a conversation happened, it happened. Otherwise, no one cared for other’s approval. As a child, I used to hang out with you also, but once that stage of slight independence came, we never talked. It is like that in a lot of families.”

“But, it shouldn’t be. Especially, now that there are only 3 of us. “

“Yes.. I know that I am not a good sheep of the family. And, I have wasted a lot of money. But, seriously speaking I couldn’t help it. I was not made that way.”

“I still think you can do great things. Even, I didn’t like to study, but looking at you being sent to a better school than me gave me that drive to do well at any cost. You were constantly compared, and after a while, you accepted your inferiority instead of fighting it.”

“Totally.. I thought it’s better to be great at something you are good at, than just labor your life to be accepted in the society.”

“I always say good things about you, and how you can do us proud.”

“Yeah.. Hopefully.”

The chat ended soon after.

I felt good, at the graceful and unprepared manner in which I handled the whole thing. And yes, I don’t know whether these seminars are useful for people or not, but it made my week.

The conversation is not entirely accurate but I think I’ve hit the pressure points. Also, I really needed to write this, and get done with.

Phew!

I just finished 7 chapters of my novel, and am now at a point, where I can afford a break. (Thank God, I was going insane.)

The blog has been inactive for a while. I’ll try and resume activity but can’t guarantee anything. Quantity over Quality has always been the mantra for this blog. And, I see no reason to change it.

Memory Material

The last month has been long, and transformative for me- both as a person and as a writer. (The personal change has been unintentional, and mostly as a result of not caring about things.) The Novel has been progressing slowly, but atleast I have not reached a point of stagnation which is a stage that I fear the most. (Even though, it is a stage that eventually leads to massive improvement.)

I saw a lot of movies, and one movie that has stood out was The Tree Of Life by Terrence Mallick. The reason I liked it so much, was because it acted as a catalyst for me to make an attempt at refining the entire school of thought that I had developed for myself over the years. An extraordinary moment, long pending.

This is a stage, where I would ideally like to have been on a vacation so that I could constantly bombard myself with great cinema and literature, as well as interviews and thoughts of people who create these things. What a life, it would be if one can begin a day arguing a certain thought in their head, and end it having seen various sides to that thought. Social responsibilities, be damned.

However, I am most likely to not be going ahead with it since I’ve done it once, and have suffered consequences of such a lifestyle. (Never regretted. It was very empowering.)

Other than that, my life has been going well. Personal happiness of any kind has eluded me. But, as long as enrichment is coming, I’ll be fine.

On Style

Whenever I think about style, and try to explain it- the easiest analogy that comes to my mind is that of a sportsperson. Take a cricket batsman, for example. A batsman is said to be very high in terms of style, if he can hit a shot that is usually not hit when that kind of a ball is bowled.

However, style in any form of expression cannot be as easily explained. Yes, you can say that it is the uniqueness of their art, and a lot like personal handwriting. But, it is tough to do it in a way, that it totally answers the confused artist’s dilemma. To me, as a writer, I have thought of style as the best possible way to do things based on my strengths along with my theory of what a story should be like. I have always believed in writing about ordinary people, and have a strong desire to glorify failures. Since, I find expressing myself through such stories the most enjoyable.

Other than that, I think a lot of style is gained by developing one’s thought. Sense of truth, as I’d call it.

Style is about finding a way of thinking to make your life good. If this way, is original and something that you’ve built on your own through experiences and not by following the wise words of self help books then you will most definitely have a good voice/style since it’ll be such a beautiful concoction of your past experiences and your own self comprising of everything from your looks, to the financial condition of your family.

January

My main agenda in this month, was to take care of the attendance, and then take care of everything else. With two working days left, that has been taken care of. Now, the agenda for February is finance, along with maintaining a hold on the attendance.

As for my writing pursuits, I have not been ignoring it. Almost every alternate day, I’ve been writing a journal and some fiction for my novel. I will be finishing my fourth chapter right after finishing this post. It has been a more demanding and agonizing experience than writing short stories, for me. I have wanted to publish a couple of chapters online, but don’t want to break the rhythm or jinx it by doing so.

My reading too has been adequate, though way short of the goal I had in mind. But then, I blame it on the general Manipal atmosphere which allows you very little time on your own. (I sometimes wish being a complete social outcast here and concentrate on passionate things, like my previous college but then at other times, and most times, I tell myself to experience this college life as much as possible, because once I am done with it, I would like to have memories. To be included in further fictional settings if nothing else.)

Here’s hoping for a good February. (As mentioned earlier, I desperately need a good year in 2012.)

Heightened Expertise

Tags

skill set

It has been a long time since somebody has prompted me to say ‘Thank You!’. Last, I remember was on my birthday. I had never thought about it, until today when a friend of mine, complimented another friend of mine about how good his work was. Not the first time, I saw someone being admired, today I cared enough to develop a hunger for being passionate about something. Problem is, I am not very talented. Nor do I feel anything other than a fleeting urge to make films myself or be an actor. Or anything of that sort. The only thing I can’t even aspire to do is create music, since I cannot sing well or play any instrument. I am an accounts guy, by profession but do not really consider myself to be someone with an above average aptitude for it.

Most times, I am not even bothered by this. Smoking and drinking with friends, watching sports, being in the middle of some debate or gossip, reminiscing about past memories, and fantasizing about new ones are my only activities. I had considered Photography for a while, but looking at the amount of people that are in it right now, I refrained.

It’s not like I need to be an artist or anything. I will eventually get a job, and marry, and have kids. I’ll be occupied. But at least, I should be passionate about something other than a random TV show, or a whiskey brand. Some kind of a special skill-set. Or a heightened expertise in something more than the art of chatting with five people simultaneously, or the art of preparing imaginative bills in order to extract more money out of your parents. Something, that people associate you with. Even if it’s a niche skill like skateboarding. Or Typography.

But, I don’t know anything of that sort, I feel passionate about. But, I want to.

__________________________________________________________________

I have written this as the subject for a flash based animation that I’ll be making this semester. I usually don’t bother myself with such topics, but since it was a flash based thing, I decided to do something inspirational in an understated manner. It may not be good, but it’d do for assignment purposes. Sharing it, for the post count and the small possibility of someone finding worth in this.