Brain-sick's Diary #5

Life has offered varieties. Varieties in people, in their behavior, in their culture, and with this lies the varied experiences of ours. Experience is carved not just from our own endeavors, but it is also accompanied by the culture we are infused into. You may be protesting, not accepting the culture that surrounds you, but the survival for existence always stays at the top most priority in your list. Survival for existence is after all so natural. Lets not just blame humans only. Its prevalent across all forms of life that exists. And this is the survival for existence that pushes you to adapt. Adapt to the culture, to the surrounding which is not so acceptable to you otherwise.

He has adapted to the culture too. The learning curve was steep. But at the end the least that he could have achieved was to get used to with this culture; and he did it. Now he stands firm. The firmness has to be raised even more. Strands of relationships that tend to bind people together; he has doubts on this authenticity. He realizes that relationships are not permanent. Time is a dimension. And every relationship is carved out from time. Clock ticks, relationship tricks. He learnt to try not to be tricked. To keep trying is very important.

Where is the happiness? Well, the happiness is omnipresent. Happiness is God. If you believe, God is everywhere. If you don’t believe, you can’t find God. So is the happiness. And to add to this crude thought, here is an important quote : “Happiness is indeed a state of mind, a choice, a way of living; it is not something to be achieved, it is something to be experience.”

His struggle is on; his endeavors to find solace, to find God, to find happiness.

June 12th, 2015.

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Going forward through a new start...

It has been a month since my last blog post. Many new things popped up inside my head, but the creative tides got short of the extremely stronger gravitation pull, and that kept everything still…just a little hoo-ha came to the front. 

What was I exactly doing in this one month?

I left Durgapur on 5th of June. I am no more a college student now. I graduated officially from my college on 25th of June 2014. Ever since I joined college, I dreamt of scoring 9 pointer. It was a bliss even to think of being called a ‘nine pointer’ and don’t know how it felt to be one. I enjoyed this bliss to the fullest till I completed my second year engineering. After that I started to take pride in my reality. The result of 8th semester which evidently graduated me came out on 25th and there it was 9.04 on my grade card. Hard work for my final year project finally paid off. But this was not the reason for my disappearance from my blog. I was low on my health. More than the health itself, I was tensed thinking many bad possibilities associated with it. All the self-motivating stuffs loose their essence on me when my hyperactive brain starts churning. I wish to get well soon, and I am trying my best from my part for it.

And there was a good news too behind my disappearance.

After I graduated with title of Er. Anshul Gautam, as a token of appreciation (this is more than just a token, it’s huge for me) Papa gifted Nikon D5100 to me. It came with 18-55mm kit lens. Now being an owner of DSLR, a tool to open all doors of photographic skills, I am more than happy. It was a dream. It has come true now. I clicked lots of pictures and practiced various controls on the new cam. I will buy a zoom lens soon, probably 55-200mm one. I will be joining TCS and my salary will help me for the new lens, but till then I will stick to 18-55mm one.

An important lesson.

I spent my four years for engineering. I learnt innumerable lessons. The most important lesson I recall at this moment is: 'We should never let our own goodness die, no matter what killing spree is against us'. Endurance against the harsh blows of outsiders must be attained to safeguard the inner peace and sanity. Sanity is in preserving goodness, never making it escape from  our inside in the darkness of unlikelihood around us. I shall never forget this lesson, and will keep chanting at every time of need. 

(...among the first few shots taken from my camera)

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Brain-sick's Diary >> Positivism

Life has been a chaotic drama lately, with numerous self-realizations and self-discoveries. I have turned more rigid and endured against harshness. Yes! The heat was rising drastically and it burnt me like hell, but I need to stand in the kitchen. As Harry S Truman said, ‘If you can’t stand the heat, get out of the kitchen’. Escaping is never a solution, it takes courage to face it and make your way through it.

I have started to read a lot. Earlier, I used to hang around with friends or used to tread down alone on the roads of Durgapur, composing short stories and poetry. But now, I read a lot in my room, and this has been the time when most of the self-realizations and self-discoveries have started to come up. How much goodness does the reading habit brings for you, I got to learn. I read two books by Dale Carnegie within past two weeks; ‘How to speak Effectively’ and ‘How to stop worrying and start living’, while ‘How to win friends and people’ I am still reading. It has helped me a lot to improve myself in terms of perceptions that I used to have earlier about ‘friends’, ‘people in general’ and ‘relationships’ that human kind has to offer to you. Most of the problems in our lives are not the serious ones, as Carnegie said, ‘We suffer only from minute problems the most, and tend to overlook the bigger part of our happy life’. Why should we go on spoiling the only life we got because of few tiny pinching agents that life brought in for you?

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Brain-sick's Diary #4 >> Unusualness

Something unusual has happened. Something that is pulling me into despair. Something which is clenching me in the fist of depression; a depression of a kind whose origin lies veiled. Only my senses are reactive towards the rhetoric discussions I have been raising inside me. Perceptions I envisage is pulling me apart with a force that can uproot a living strong tree, that can bring to the grounds tombs of giant mega structures, that can explode away a town with nuke energy.  I don’t know the specific reason. I just witness the unusualness.

Interests are getting suppressed. Things that used to be my passion (which they still are, but have gone under hibernation) are also getting dim in my arena. I go through early pages of my life, and I feel surprised on the changes I underwent. In the isolation, in the separate space where I have dragged myself into, I keep juggling thoughts and beliefs that have burst out from nowhere. Why does this happen? No clues.

Facebook? Twitter? G+? I have quit almost all of them. I used to be one of the most active person on social media websites. Though I never run out of plots for short stories and poetry, but increased intimacy with the unusualness has slackened the will to perform, to write them on my blog. Why am I writing all this crap right now? I am only scribbling my heart on pages of my open diary just to bookmark this day, and when I will look back again in distant future, I will try to feel the worst unusualness that I have experienced. Why does this happen? No clues.

Friendship which is considered to be the most sacred relationship (I haven’t seen, I read in books) never crosses my way. It might be that I am very stiff at my attitude and consequently this relationship never intersected into my way. I have always tried to mix with people, tried to get to know them, tried to weave strands of solidarity with the people whom I connected with. But I have failed each time. Love? Does it exist? I have only seen unusualness.

This unusualness is intensifying with each passing day.  If I could ever get to reach its origin, I will surely bring myself out of this labyrinth, killing the evil spree to death. 

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The Open Window...

(Click on Image to Enlarge)

On closing my eyes, I fill thick brooded meshes in my lungs with air… I hold it for a while, pushing it a little further, until I can hold it no more. Freshness sprouting outside my open window descends deep down into me… Perhaps, its spring; I can see through the open window, trees ladened with new leaves and buds; birds chirruping, squeaking around in happy-playful mood. Jolly squirrel nests on the tree too, jumping from branch to branch. Sometime they stop by at the open window, staring at my partially lit face.

Can I be ever free? I have been captive under chains of my psychotic mind. Along every perspectived dimension in my mind, there jolts clumsy curiosity; the curiosity to arrive at a clue to freedom, a way to cut bars in the open window, to dissolve the tiny autumn within me and dilute it into the sprawling spring outside.

Tools made out of elemental love, I have used enough. Adamant chains tied around my torso don’t listen to them. In the environs of spooky silent nights, my imaginary friend visits me. He preaches to carve my tools out from hatred, assuring the success on blood soiled chains. Morally fed soul of mine ravages at this juncture; it still trusts in love, although yet to recover from past injuries bought in the love’s conspiracy.

The sunlight is warm, grazing over green trees outside the open window. At a certain time of the day, the Sun bathes my dark pestered room, throwing a shine of hope on my face. It’s the time when my friend in my shadow visits me. He shares his thoughts with me, conjuring me about life; What is life?

As the Sun rises up in the sky, friend in my shadow recedes, and he is away when its all dark again. He left me a note yesterday… When the Sun was bathing me in a spotlight of hope today at its time, I read the note:

“Life is beautiful outside your open window. Free yourself from the chains that never physically existed. Free yourself from the captivity laid by chains of your diverse mind. I am waiting, outside your open window….                                                  -Anshul"

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Brain-sick's Diary #3 >> Cold Emotions

I am swimming in a pool of thoughts. In a silent room, doors closed, panes in windows shut, and lights from my laptop screen is the only source; unveiling a part of my face, more of my hands on the keyboard. With denial of connection somehow with brains, here is something my heart wants to spill out. Its my birthday today. And I am wondering, why did the God select me for my mom. Could this not have happened that some other baby was lucky enough to get into my mom’s womb? Why it was me?
There are questions that are unanswerable. Then I wonder why do such questions have to exist, when answers to them are never found. My mind throttles deep down into such thoughts, mesmerizing me with unanswerable questions.
On my headphone, its Coldplay playing… 'Fix you'.

‘When you try your best, but you don't succeed

When you get what you want, but not what you need

When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep

Stuck in reverse…

And the tears come streaming down your face

When you lose something you can't replace

When you love someone, but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?’

How true this song is. I cant explain the sufferings, affection that got killed, in course of events that I faced and left them behind on my timeline. But somewhere, I lie struck in reverse. Is the past so dear that we tend to overlook the pleasant and optimistic present? The formidable past, that’s what heart believes, keeps poking from under the veil of sewn stitches. 

It has been quite a span, and I haven’t come up here with a post that’s significant. It was this song by Coldplay, that pushed my fingers onto the keyboard, and pinned down emotions of abstract blend on my blog.

I have been busy with my work, my college, my tries at photography and in mesh of complex thoughts. But I expect to come back here with colors in poetry… 

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The Journey...

Its album ‘Passions’ by Ghazal Maestro, Late Shree Jagjit Singh, playing on my computer while I am typing this. And the lyrics is conforming with emotions once I had. It was my first semester break, and I was going back home, in Gujarat. I had tried to cage my emotions within sheets of my notebook, somewhere which remains in its hideous isolation now.Then, I was different, from what I am now. At least I had tears, and I could spill them when I needed. Now even after million tries, I don’t get any. I wish, if I could feel light, bursting out from the complex lockage in my brains.

I was travelling alone, and I talked with myself all through the journey. And the reciprocation of turbulence of thoughts was imprisoned within certain pages. I stopped by at those pages today, while I was tearing them off before putting them on fire. And the pages read :

I sit still, and scenes through my window ‘pass’ by. 

Like projection of memories on walls, 

Glimpses of my existence in them pass by.

The distant horizon moves with me, like the ultimate goal in my life. 

Hills and its ranges, terrain rough and sprawling solitude pass by.

I watch as a viewer, terrains where I had been. 

Scraped pieces of my loneliness, my jobless thoughts in them pass by.

Rivulets in their topsy-turvy curves, 

Meeting and dividing; behold my soul. 

Kinships I had and pain of their losses pass by.

Away from solitude, my eyes snap at commotion,

As the city in energy passes by.

Of all few causes that put us down,

Million reasons to rise and smile pass by.

The obstinacy to laugh, promises to shine pass by.

The shine is in our goal, and the journey is our road to shine.

I still still, and scenes through my window pass by.

I close my eyes slowly,

Dazzles of glistens, sparks of enticement,

Fervor in my goals ‘waltz’ by.

Image Courtesy : Google Images Search

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Brain-sick's Diary #1 >> Expectations

“I do my thing and you do yours. I am not in this world to live up to your expectations, and you are not in this world to live up to mine. You are you and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, then it is beautiful. If not, it can't be helped.”

I read this quote somewhere on Internet. I was trying to join my friend’s fan page, but some cross-links came forward and carried me away from Facebook. I transfixed my eyes, shook my heart, as the words started crawling in multiple spheres of my mind.
What’s wrong with it? The quotation just screamed out the truth!

How can human sustain without expectations? This was the food for my thought on my way back to home from our nearest grocery store.
If I purchase a packet of biscuit, I have some expectation about its taste.
Even the old lady at store expects me to come back again for some more shopping. I can read from sparkles in her eyes each time she bids me bye. How can one say that they hate expectations.

I kept walking tardily, my feet freezing and denying any movement further. But it was stringent thoughts which kept my mind busy, obscured from wants of my legs. I entered my house, even forgot to close the door. I was back to my senses only then when my mom started chiding upon me for not having purchased some butter. She chided some more when her hairs started to swirl and ruffle from the strong cold wind that came through the open door.
I looked back at the open door. I realized, there is always some purpose behind every instance. The Butter! I knew it wont be easy, but I must go. I slammed the door from outside, and it banged.

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Brain-sick's Diary #2 >> If I were a Bird

It has been harsh these days. Weather has been behaving strangely. The sun is shy to come out, and has lost somewhere. Probably it has its own chores to sort out. I can see how the clouds have been troubling him. And there has been rain which was not anticipated, at least not at this time of year. Flowers in my garden, with feeble colors on their petals, are showing their miseries. I can do nothing other than watching them wither in cold. It pains to watch them die; flowers I had gardened with all my care.

Even the birds have migrated. Who is going to look after their homes now? I watch them fly together, flapping their wings slowly in distant sky, sometimes showing up, sometimes hiding behind clouds. Among the flock, I try to find the one, who is lonely. It may be because I want someone to resemble me. I look for my existence in them. The bad side of me, and a little good in me, I appraise each one minutely. In books, I read, living life with too much care and precautions is certainly not a good lifestyle. We should be carefree, and joyous. We should never look back in the long race we are running in. These are what books on ‘Art of Living’ say.

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