Somethings Never Change

Image from http://jenbreaux.files.wordpress.com/2007/04/partyscenegg.jpg.

Sinusitis and I said, "I do" a real long time ago and even if I tried to cheat, sinusitis has clung on to me.

So when we get really romantic and chummy, we become much of a public nuisance.

I have learned over the many years through this affair to get medicated and stay away from people. Not that I am infectious or anything. Merely the fact that each time I sneeze, everyone stops for a split second from what they are doing and look at me. Then H1N1 came and everyone thought I was constantly infected.

When I cut off human company (which is really not a bad thing), I read books. Lots of them. They don't complain when I sneeze at them or splutter coffee when I sneeze or medicate them by mistake. I really do define "unputdownable" to the point that I have developed a BR* cramp in my left forearm.
*brachioradialis

I don't really remember when I started reading books. I don't really remember my very first book. That is how long me and books go.

Recently (meaning about 16 hours ago), I finished Sophie Kinsella's Twenties Girl which truly is unputdownable. Before you go thinking it's a chic flick or some trashy literature, it makes The Namesake look shy. So you know it's good; may be we will get a movie in the years to come. Quite an unexpected storyline (that which makes stories unforgettable). The author did a good job in storytelling a hip 20s scene (and yes this is the 1920s with the top hats and flapper dresses) while highlighting the challenges that those times.

It was really naive of me to associate the 20s to New York. Something about Marilyn Monroe and me being confused. Set in London and quite a first for me as I have not read about London per se in the 20s or the 21st century (P.S. I Love You was set in Ireland). Quite a breather from all the heather and villages of the 60s which I have come to associate London to. And yes, it is not just a quaint little shopping district.

A story is only as good as it is able to engage with the reader and vividly form a mini-universe in their head. This story has touch of all the right things to make it right. Paced storyline but not too fast or heaven-forbid too slow, rich with details but not florid and most of important of all filled with everyday people. I guess that last bit is what that makes me passionate about this book. Most stories these days are filled with characters which too much of "something" which makes them a pain and makes you look how many more pages are left in that chapter. Either that or they are canned with cryptic messages and imagery that stresses one out trying to decipher them. One or two is cute, a few is perfect but sentence after sentence of personification and depersonification?! This book as I have implied has neither of those foolish emblems.

More importantly I guess besides these niceties and enriched experience, it has got to have some message but not the wrong message. This book has some really funny ones like "Don't end up being a trailer" (that's a stalker in 21st century speak). That's from Sadie Lancaster by the way.

Speaking of Sadie, she would be now in trance as I have started droning. I better go and wake her up.

2009 - 2010

To do justice to 2009, the word would be unexpected.

In a good way ... at least that is how I would see it.
A fulfilling year learning lots of new things (really), unearthing good people and discovering new opportunities; if I were to be succinct.
Of course there were equally matched incidents of drama but honestly I can't waste ATPs on typing them let alone think about them.

As much point there is in whining over lost time,
the same amount of worth is in basking over the good times.
Both are in past tense, and I am not doing a memoir, thank you very much.

While it has been quite a successful run, coming to think of it ... there was a lot of work done in order to get them ... sometimes much more than the next person.
I guess kites rise best against wind.

I don't do resolutions as I am a firm believer that I make God laugh when I make plans. The irony is that I always make plans and far too much of them. I could give Phileas Fogg a run for his money (not that he wouldn't put a wager). As much as everyone else reading this, I live an ordinary life and these plans sometimes bring extraordinary things into them ... hence we need plans. How much we follow them or rather how much I overlook a thousand things while planning is another story which you will have the entire new year to hear about.

So with that note, I wish everyone

A very happy new year and more happier ones to come!

In somno securitas?

That means: In sleep there is safety.

Sort off cliched that the Association of Anaesthetists of Great Britain and Ireland adopted this as their motto but that's not the point now.

While I suffer from somnolence now after the month long sleep-deprived state, I think about those days that even four hours of sleep was considered lucky. I thankfully did not suffer from insomnia and the sleep deprived state was voluntarily induced for a reason. However it was in sleep (which thankfully came quickly and left quickly), I truly felt free and safe. The rest of the hours were charged with some adrenaline or cortisol. Deadlines were the graffiti of those hours.

Now with sleep batting my eyelids easily, I marvel at how I was then. My then-self would have given the look of ultimate pity to my now-self; the weak-willed creature to sleep.

Surprising isn't it; how we mold to our objectives so quickly,
How subconsciously we accept change even though we consciously resist it,
How comfort zones are mere fixations of imagination.

Well I am not made of gold,
I am not made of iron either,
Or steel for that matter (that's Superman),

I am made of plastic.

Adapting, Malleable and Indestructible.
And so is the rest of the world.

Insight into Decision Making

A group of children were playing near two railway tracks, one still in use while the other disused.
Only one child played on the disused track, the rest on the operational track.

The train is coming, and you are just beside the track interchange.
You can make the train change its course to the disused track and save most of the kids.
However, that would also mean the lone child playing by the disused track would be sacrificed.
Or would you rather let the train go its way?

Let's take a pause to think what kind of decision we could make ...

Most people might choose to divert the course of the train, and sacrifice only one child.
You might think the same way, I guess.
Exactly, to save most of the children at the expense of only one child was rational decision
most people would make, morally and emotionally.
But, have you ever thought that the child choosing to play on the disused track had in fact
made the right decision to play at a safe place?

Nevertheless, he had to be sacrificed because of his ignorant friends who chose to play where the danger was.
This kind of dilemma happens around us everyday.
In the office, community, in politics and especially in a democratic society,
the minority is often sacrificed for the interest of the majority,
no matter how foolish or ignorant the majority are, and how farsighted and knowledgeable the minority are. The child who chose not to play with the rest on the operational track was sidelined.
And in the case he was sacrificed, no one would shed a tear for him.

The great critic Leo Velski Julian who told the story said he would not try to change the course of the train because he believed that the kids playing on the operational track should have known very well that track was still in use, and that they should have run away if they heard the train's sirens..
If the train was diverted, that lone child would definitely die because he never thought the train could come over to that track! Moreover, that track was not in use probably because it was not safe.
If the train was diverted to the track, we could put the lives of all passengers on board at stake!
And in your attempt to save a few kids by sacrificing one child, you might end up sacrificing hundreds of people to save these few kids.

While we are all aware that life is full of tough decisions that need to be made,
we may not realize that hasty decisions may not always be the right one.

---
The above tale is one which I got through a forwarded mail.
It seemed to have the relevance and the edge of these challenging times ...

P/S Children should never play in train-tracks even if they are disused. Think about it.

The Sore Thumb of Polycytemia Rubra Vera

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Somethings must remain normal
for a simple reason that
any glitch in that normality ruins
everything.

How anything behaves must remain normal
for yet another simple reason;
misbehavior in whatever the circumstance
is misbehavior nevertheless.

Indolent but nevertheless diseased, thank you very much.

In chess a pawn can be promoted but
in reality we are often pawned for gluttony.
Gluttony which both feeds and is fed, that is.
Gluttony which embarrasses and disappoints the poor pawn.

The worst of course is the ignorance and denial of the whole ordered chaos.
Very much like polycytemia rubra vera.

So would I have a sore thumb pointing wrongs out
or polycytemia rubra vera.

I think you know the answer already.
That was no question but
a statement of harsh reality.

The Tale of the Brass Idli Maker

http://product-image.tradeindia.com/00274000/s/0/Brass-Handi-.jpg

I was pondering about this issue for quite a while; whether to write about it or not. It had been some time you would have noticed that I actually wrote something.

Anyway, throw rotten tomatoes at me if you have to.
The situation I am about to tell you came from a conversation some few dinners ago:

In a marriage (I think this does not apply to live-in relationships), if a particular spouse in anger chooses to break a family heirloom of another spouse to prove a point, how should the other spouse react?

In impulse people might do anything but common sense (however uncommon it is) would be somewhat exercised in most sane individuals.
Nothing crass, crude nor drastic.

If it was up to me, I would plainly pack all the other heirlooms (from the ancient hairpin to the one-of-a-kind brass idli maker) and send it to some other relative where it is probably safer and appreciated.

My point is heirlooms are not just things, they represent your heritage.
A part of who you are.
If your spouse could not respect that and choose to fire their neurons at such an astounding cranial capacity, to do something so intelligent --- either they have some underlying psychological problem or its time to think what you are doing in the relationship.

It is not just a thing,
It is not about you valuing a thing more than a person,
It is not about being a MCP,

It is about you
and about you knowing that you have self-worth and dignity.

Somehow that element is lost in most relationships these days.

It's Complicated

When benign sights (maybe walking to the washroom together is slightly unholy) and romantic comedies results in depression; I think the term "it's complicated" is completely merited for. Even more so when it is a movie watched in complete exhaustion and only a tiny bit of the movie sets-off an emotional downpour.

In a weird convoluted way, being immensely busy with mainstream issues keeps us from realizing emotional handicaps. As someone puts it, these handicaps are very disturbing. However thankfully, the lifelessness has numbed us of pain. Not essentially a bad thing but not a good thing either as lifelessness leaves us pretty much devoid of humanity.

http://www1.istockphoto.com/file_thumbview_approve/2834078/2/istockphoto_2834078_she_loves_me.jpg

However, nothing can be compared to the confused, insecure, fearful and unsure state that being complicated renders one to.

We end up living by leaving it to chance and that is truly disturbing.