response

to begin with... i did not expect a response.

I did not expect people to even read this blog.
not that i was holding anything in secret, if i was then the stupidest thing to do is to put that in a blog. but ya... i got responses.

and very strange ones in that.
friends called me to respond. emailed me. some have commented on the blog.

well first time kicks :)

funny part is that, i see i am suddenly responsible for saying things.
if this was in my notebook and no one ever saw it then it would remain there forever.
but this time i choose to put it in a place for people to read. they did. and they responded.
I've done it with my drawings before. this is the first for writing. its my thought nevertheless.

the topper on the list of responses was my father.
he never reads blogs.
he read it and called... all he said was "We need to talk!"
:)

the conversation is yet to happen.

isn't confusion very important. for me its always happened that way.
yes i have had many ideas that i can draw about.
but the ones that have really sponged my mind dry are the ones that will be dearest to me.

i would be bloody scared if i knew how my life will be ten years from now.

remember that question that every one would very casually ask when we were in school?
"What is your ambition?"
If you blinked and duhhed for a while they would go on to clarify...
"I mean what do you want to be when you grow up?"

Ahh. Ok. If I'd be damned if I didn't know the answer.

And the answer changed over the years.
Heeh I'm all of 25 and see how I sound, "...over the years..... hehehe"

Anyway reverting to my new found monkish guise... Over the years
what i realize is that I want to be someone who can create things with the utmost honesty.
And this honesty as simple and straight as it seems does not mean just not lying.
It means having the strength to seek answers that I can stand for come what may.
Answers and a vision that I would die for.

I don;t thinking I'm looking for a heroic vengeance or a master constitution.
No ideology or thought stays for longer than when its established.
A dream ends when it is manifested.
Its like a movie that ends when the credits roll. You just have to get up and move your ass from theater. No point hanging around there anymore.

What will remain is the memory and the knowledge to take the next step.

I wish sometimes things would just be that way, like the movies. Some camera will pan out into the sky to quote a happily ever after and things will just be. But it never is.

Not the happily ever after. But the movie doesn't end there.
Probably why movie makers are obsessed with sequels, because we just cannot get the courage to end and let go.

Die to the moment.

Thats why I keep coming back to how we cling on.
Clinging on makes me still. Unmoving. I will sit there and keep sitting there gathering dust
and wait for someone to come wipe the dust off me. Its not like when I'm moving constantly. Dust doesn't stand a chance.

erase

If all action is only compelled by an intent, then that is why i create this post months after this account was originally created. The intent - to release a thought that has been for long just floating somewhere behind my eyes and my ears. Hardly ever coming out of that space for me to see or hear. and therefore hardly ever being tangible enough to understand.

what becomes of these millions inanimate forms that occupy this space in my head i wonder. do they cease to be?
do they fester like an uncleaned wound? do they grow suddenly like a dormant seed under a delayed shower? or do they just play games and seek us only when they choose to? I'm not really sure.

all i'm sure of now is that this thought nags me and compels to seek a material form. a form of real words and a larger language that allows for communication. i am no master: especially of the language. i am just a soul who's identified her journey and desperately seeks the courage to step on it.

I have questions.
They are questions a soul. Does it exist?

I feel very deep down, that it does.

I have grown up with visionary parents who were part of a revolution.
The revolution no longer exists. what remains are only the ideals.
and two children who have grown from the vision and in a strange way manifested that vision.

Of what use is an ideology when it it serves no revolution?

Is it merely to cling on?
And why should I cling on?

Does a soul cling on to a body when it can no longer hold life?
What is the purpose of an artist?
Is it to confirm to laws of perspective and schools of artistic theory or simply explore.

Exploration is a tricky illusion.
Every new find gives me a kick, as if I've learned something or created something.
It elates me. Makes me think I'm god. Makes me think that every living being that has the power to create
is a god.

And yet I am left frustrated when i see a multitude of souls incapacitated in their purposes to create, to evolve,
to explore, to live a free life and die a free death.

I read recently that we must learn to embrace our sufferings to be free.
I almost choked on my tea and gurgled myself out of dying.

Embrace a suffering?
Of what use is an ideology when it it serves no revolution?

The purpose is to cling on.
I believe our selves are divided into two.
Not man or woman, black or white, rich or poor, a working class or a ruling class or any of these droning clichés.

We are divided with desires.
With desires of love, ownership, creation, thought, and space.
Investing in desire brings me attachment.
The attachment makes me a settler.
A settler can no longer wander for there is heart break involved in removing.
A wanderer can no longer settle since there is heart break involved in investing.

I believe our selves are divided into two.
We have within us the desire to be a wanderer and the desire to be a settler.
And more often than not the choice between these two seems to me the seat of our conflict.

We lose our souls. Cling on when we need to wander, and wander when we need to build.
Of what use is an ideology when it it serves no revolution?
Of what use is a revolution when you and i do not even know what we want?

Chak de

This is my first blog entry. And it is going to look like a review. Sigh.
But as a friend of mine keeps saying, "Whats there?"

I have just come back from seeing Chak de. A movie along the lines of Lagaan, Iqbal and all other national and international movies based on sports where the underdog struggles, chokes and wheezes for 95 percent of the film but always wins in the last five. Feel good sports and feel good films.

I seem to have the habit of not making myself clear in the nice zone. By which I mean ... the "nice" things that must be said about any effort taken by any individual.