Epic proportions

Well. I don't really suck at math. But one thing I really am ashamed of? I learnt every bit of ratio and proportion word for word learning the formulae "by-heart" for the exams. Pretty simple you might say. Not for me. I found calculus a breeze. Not Ratio Proportion (we stray heavily aside from considering probability but that doesn't seem to be in line with the title).

Many many months ago, I had this urge. I couldn't give it meaning. I couldn't give it a voice. But it still gripped me to no end. Many things were changing in my life. My job sucked. My house was a mess. My routines were all messed up (well I didn't have any routines to begin with). I hated my boss. I hated my peers. I had a non-existent life in the work-life balance scheme of things. So it was easy to attribute this gripping feeling to one of those you might say. Things were out of the norm. I was going through hormonal changes. I must have a wild imagination.

Whatever it was, it one day just ... ended. Standing in the Landmark bookstore a short distance away from home on the first floor, somewhere in the 5th or 6th aisle from the entrance - it just ended. Didn't take a moment. Took a few minutes. But it tugged more so than ever before just before it completely ceased to exist.

Completely broke for money, I had decided to visit this, seemingly unrelated to my thoughts then, store, with a few friends. We joked about. Moved around. Separated ways as we moved to our own sections of interest. And yet something seemed to draw me towards it. Made me a little "on-the-edge" that I wasn't getting what I needed. I made my way strolling around until I spotted it. One word just sent a shiver down my spine. The Mahabharath. I didn't think. I don't remember what happened for awhile after. But the next thing I knew, I was sitting on one of the reading couches with a copy clutched in my hand (in retrospect that seems to have been the best choice, for me, of all the editions of the grand epic that was on display that day), and reading incessantly until my girlfriend comes over and expresses her amusement at my choice of reading. It could have been a couple of minutes, a half an hour. I don't know. But I was hooked. The very style in which the epic began. The words. The feelings that it brought out in me.
"How's the book?" she asks me. "Pretty good" I said. I was soon joined by the others who we'd come with. And I just sat. Clutching the book in my hand. Nervous to reveal it to the folks around. I didn't know what to think. I felt this sense of calm come over me. Yet I wasn't sure what it was. I thought it best to keep it down until I could make more sense of it.

"Oooh what's that"

"Shit" I thought and reluctantly handed the book over. "Oh hey, I've always wanted to read this!" Phew. Not as bad as I thought it would get. I wanted the book. I had to have it. It was by far the longest book I have ever read/wanted to read. But I must. But I'm broke. And this thing costs 1.5K!

Dejected, I go back and keep the book back where I found it and we head to the billing section to get everyone else's stuff billed. The girlfriend says to me - "Why don't you get that book?" "Because we don't have the money to spare?" "It's ok baby it's really worth it you know."
I think for awhile and decide. I must have this book. And I run back to get it. As luck would have it, I did buy the book that day and I even found a cheaper paperback by the same author.

I've only begun reading the book a week back. I put it off thus long because I thought, I must read it well. With complete concentration. It isn't a novel. It's a carefully documented piece of literature that speaks volumes about life. That, in all likelihood has been altered over time by the generations it passed by in only verbal communication. Each one adjusting it to one's own whims. A comprehensive collaboration of thoughts and opinions of generations of people over centuries. An epic tale of many characters who lived and fought by their dharma, yet at times seemed to waver. A sort of tale that speaks of idealism and how one always strives for something but probably will never get there in his life time. But how striving matters. It isn't winning or losing. It isn't about wanting or trying either. But about the path that one walks through in his pursuits. About life itself. And what better a guide, a mentor, for someone who sees things in not so dissimilar a way.
I hope to finish the two parts of the book one day. And I might not remember the individual stories or the characters by it's end. But I will definitely remember the lessons learned. The fruit of generations of experience and learning. The greatest story ever told. A story of epic proportions.

Are we there yet?

We pray for our innocent souls, and beg forgiveness for our sins, for our lips shall not halt, nor shalt our fingers stay put, for 'tis our destiny to speak our minds and spill our thoughts, however inconsequential or irrelevant. We pray for our innocent souls, to end this torture of eternal self-expression and hope against hope that one day, we see the light of day, and that the television might become interesting again. Amen.

Yeah, well that was my first entry on this blog, around about 3 years ago was it? Still holds true though. Kinda a shocker for me though. Have I not progressed at all? Is my innocence/naiveness/stupidity not surfaced itself enough to teach me a thing or two in life YET?

Well, let's leave me aside for now. I'm kind of sick of the whole thing anyway. It's all a little too overrated if you ask me. What is life? What is one's purpose in life? Well I'm not signing in blood that my opinions thus far is going to hold true tomorrow. Maybe not even in a few hours. Heck not even by the end of this post even. But that's how life is isn't it? I've always been amused by the number of adjectives one can describe life with. There really isn't any word you cannot use to describe life. How does one really describe one's own then? Cut short the noise from other lives that seem to breathe only too close to your own? Filter out the sense from the non-sense, with the very definition of sense changing by the minute? Move higher and higher up the chain of abstraction hoping that one day you can proclaim "YES! I have found the answer to it all?" How far does one go? Well as you can see, I, to be honest haven't found myself any bit closer to an answer than my similar self was 3 years ago. Nor do I think I will find one 3 years hence.
But one thing's for sure. Whether this blog lives on or not? I'm going to be a heck of a lot better off putting things down here that I read 3, maybe 10 years from now that would allow me to look back and say, hey, this thing never does end, does it? Well not until your skin, flesh and thoughts shrivel up (not to mention other un-mentionable things). But as they say, it isn't the destination but the journey (the destination is very much undesirable in this case), and I choose to pen down every bit of it that passes me by. Be it an itch in my thigh or a stitch in my time ... I have the right to say hey this deserves to go into my blog! Time shall pass by. And so shall other things. But none shall go by me without so much as a consideration as to whether thy moment deserveth to be penned down. Looked back on. Re-lived. Shared. BLOGGED!

Oh holy savior of thy souls. Bless us for this gift we have been given. For you gave us mouths and ears. And we gave ourselves computers and the internet. Amen.