Well over 10 days and I decide to take up the proverbial pen again. I guess procrastination and I are really best friends for life!
So, I realized today that pushing the limits while fun, could mean different things to different people. It's not just about uprooting yourself and then deriving a strange satisfaction from injecting yourself into cultures that are pretty different from yours. It could be about pushing boundaries in art, about challenging the limits that you can see but ofcourse, need to transcend. It could of course mean something completely different too. Things that I couldn't be bothered to think of right now :)
Life's been on a rollercoaster the last few weeks. And that's another thing that I have discovered. While clearly on the unsettling side, rollercoasters are fun. They throw you into situations that you never thought you would be in, like being suspended hundreds of feet above the ground with some firm straps between you and near death. While you are thinking about how this isn't the moment that you would choose to die in, the machine kicks in and you are sent through some of the most nerve wracking experiences of your life. And you do come out. Alive. With a deep sense of unreality and the need of the addict to do it again. Even as you know that you are completely terrified and would run given the chance. But you don't give yourself that chance. I wonder why.
A little more than two more weeks of semester to go. And like I mentioned to somebody yesterday, I don't know whether to be happy it's done or scared that I don't have a page of my proposal written. Another 'if' in my life that's completely structured on that wonderfully stable word :)
More later...
Tuesday 17 November 2009
Wednesday 4 November 2009
That itch again
I don't feel like writing about places today. I don't feel like doing any of what I officially started out to do on this blog.
Today, I just want to write.
About that glove that I lost last winter, the one that set me free. About the feeling of ineptitude when I stare into blank faces week after week, trying to convince myself that what I say, makes a connection somewhere. I try, before the bubble bursts. Right in my face. About roads that I have lost to the past. Some by choice, and some perforce. About roads that I see stretch out ahead. That I wonder if I have the strength to traverse.
About human connections. That light up in the most unexpected places. And the ones that collapse unexpectedly. About friends that I make and try my best, to keep. And those that I lose. And the pointlessness of ruing that loss. And in the most annoying academic way, the pointlessness of the pointlessness of ruing that loss. Ha! (Girl Interrupted?)
I want to write about the joy of finding people, places and adventures. Of building from scratch. And then that ever present need to move on. To force closure where none was ever required. I want to write crazy today. Like I said, to stop being official and become the rebel I (never) was (though Ma may disagree :) To forsake routine and go back to Hampi, to Goa, to other frontiers that I haven't touched yet. Soon! If nowhere else, it will be back to the craziness of NYC.
Today, I just want to write.
About that glove that I lost last winter, the one that set me free. About the feeling of ineptitude when I stare into blank faces week after week, trying to convince myself that what I say, makes a connection somewhere. I try, before the bubble bursts. Right in my face. About roads that I have lost to the past. Some by choice, and some perforce. About roads that I see stretch out ahead. That I wonder if I have the strength to traverse.
About human connections. That light up in the most unexpected places. And the ones that collapse unexpectedly. About friends that I make and try my best, to keep. And those that I lose. And the pointlessness of ruing that loss. And in the most annoying academic way, the pointlessness of the pointlessness of ruing that loss. Ha! (Girl Interrupted?)
I want to write about the joy of finding people, places and adventures. Of building from scratch. And then that ever present need to move on. To force closure where none was ever required. I want to write crazy today. Like I said, to stop being official and become the rebel I (never) was (though Ma may disagree :) To forsake routine and go back to Hampi, to Goa, to other frontiers that I haven't touched yet. Soon! If nowhere else, it will be back to the craziness of NYC.
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