Kitelike

I'm a man, I'm not a child...
A man who sees
The shadow behind your eyes

Who's to say where the wind will take you?
Who's to say what it is will break you?
I don't know, where the wind will blow...

Who's to know when the time has come around?
I don't want to see you cry
I know that this is not goodbye.

- Kite (U2 - All That You Can't Leave Behind)

There seems to be a limit to how much you can't leave behind. There's only so much that you can take with you. There is much more you want to take with you than you ever knew. There is so much more accumulating in your bag.

I would probably never be able to leave it all behind. I would probably never be able to classify what it is that I can't leave behind. My list would probably outgrow everyone else's. I probably would be, or probably am, the most nostalgic person around.

I live in the past. I lurk in the shadows of the times gone by. I try to go back to the immediate past. I long to live my life in rewind. I wish to relive all those moments with my loved ones over and over again. Also, I know that this is not possible.

However, it is these memories that are mine. All that I can't leave behind. And I know this for sure, that there is no limit to the amount of past my present can carry along to the future.

I think that I can see the shadow behind my own eyes. I would never want to know where the wind would blow me. I would not want to know what is capable of breaking me. All I know is that I am able to believe. Believe that this, or for that matter any moment gone by, will not be my goodbye.

All I know, is that I am the kite whose string shall never come undone.

Fluidity

I've been leaking brain fluid since some time now. This does not mean that I somehow have become a spout of intellectually stimulating information, and neither is the leakage literal. It is not particularly interesting either. A bit unsettling though, if you are you, and quite a bit uncomfortable if you are me.

For the benefit of the uninitiated, I'll testify that the concept of brain fluid is a no-brainer. It is the goeey, runny stuff that is leaking out of my nose, all thanks to some mangy virus. That is just about it. It would be leaking out of your nose too, if you were me.

It does seem simple, and it is, but the fact remains that brain fluid comes in many shapes and sizes. If you expand your search to other people as well, you'd realise that the spouts and the containers are also available in a myriad variety, and that there are quite a number of people who are unhappy with theirs. Some of them actually go ahead and pay huge bucks for a surgery that doesn't do anything to stop the brain fluid leaking. All it does is makes the spout more aesthetically appealing. I wonder who in their sane mind would want a beautiful tap that does nothing except, well, leaks, and occasionally gurgles and backfires. Fix all these before getting a new tap, I say. You'd wonder too, if you were me.

Coming back to the various forms of this gooey, runny stuff the days that the virus thing does not choose to manifest itself in my nose, brain fluid is not so fluid. It tends to appear in many different varieties and shades, quite a majority of which are suspiciously green and formless. Like something unknown. Like the green uncharted waters. Formless, shapeless, indistinguishable. Yet so alive. Alive with life unknown.

This nosey stuff can be hard. Sometimes, you know, real hard and all. Grows into you. Like thorns or something. Now, these ones are the most fun taking out. Everyone wants to beat the shit of a hard one. It goes for this hard one too. Take care though, you just might end up with a bloody nose, as is the case with taking out hard ones.

The green matter sometimes gets soft and snuggles up your nose, giving you the snoogy-woogies when you are trying to dislodge it. What these snoogy-woogies are, though, differs from person to person. For me, it is a nice snoogy-woogy feeling that snoogy-woogies up my nose into my forehead, and then warms the back of my ears. The slight tingle at the nape of my neck, which rustles up the hair like a slight breeze on a November evening. And the so very mild currents that run up the spine, forcing the fingers into an encore.

Snot sometimes rolls up into a unsightly, sprightly greenish blob, making me wonder whether it is some alien form of matter lodged into my nasal cavity, and whether aliens have given up on rectal probes after all. However, I am inclined to believe that this very green blob is the primordial form of grey matter and that your brain is made up all these green blobs sitting together sending out electrical signals to each other, and to various body parts. The very idea of having your life governed by green blobs is so appealing to me, that I am planning to make a movie out of it. Heck, if the Matrix can work, why can't the Blobs. They both are green anyway.

And then there is the common everyday snot. Not identifiable in anyway, it is the kind of stuff that makes you go "Yecchh!!" or "Yayy! I got clay to play!!" depending on who you are. You'd probably be playing with clay now, if you were me.

As of now though, I need a clear head. And a clear nasal passageway. COMMON COLD SUCKS!

Undue Cele-brat

If you've been following this blog rather closely, you'd probably notice that it rarely mentions people. Neither does it discuss events, though the rarity is only so very slightly less profound in this case. Also, whenever these taboos have been violated, the circumstances have been quite distressing, and in a certain case or two, rather exhilarating.

So when this friend of mine reminded me that the midsems were up and coming, and I ought to post something on this page as it was the ripest time to do so, I decided to give the aforementioned rules a whack-on-the-back, and try to mention a couple of people and events in my life. As you see, I already did that in the first sentence of this paragraph, and therefore I am a nice guy.

Life has been quite boring these days, with nothing but friends to keep my mind away from the sheer emptiness of this canister. Friends probably play the most important role in the life of a superbly underperforming weird geek who is living away from his family in a place where he regularly comes across people whose lives he finds interesting. These people, I think I would like to emulate, but then my subconscious suddenly becomes superconscious and reminds me of the fact that I hate being part of a mob. Being compared in any characterstic to a group of people. Being assigned a stereotype.

I have always tried to be different. Consciously or subconsciously, I don't know. But still, different. Different to the extent being called uncool. Given a shit to the limit that people actually voice their concerns. Taking a whole lot of crap from people who believe that they are probably the best critics on anything that might catch their fancy. Made fun of because I know too many things and don't fear to tell them to people around me.

Anyway, I have also learnt to give a shit to whatever people might say. Who the fuck cares has sort of become my motto in life. Not that this is great or something, but till the point of time everything is going fine, who the fuck cares...

So coming back to the point of mentioning people and places, I went out with a couple of friends to this pub tonight, while the rest of my friends are up to their necks in photocopied notes and despicable books. Not that they like them or anything. They just pretend to. Not that I care or anything... I just celebrated the fuckin midsems!!

Anyway, coming back to the pub thing, when somebody remarks that I would look totally out of place in a public place with my current getup, which includes a "feminine" hairstyle, a dirty shirt and oversize jeans torn to fit my ankles, I'd be ready to tell him that I give a fuck, and I just tend to celebrate this way. However, if you are a cute girl making this remark, I'd very well get a hair cut, and offer to take you out. Just make sure you can handle my mind, for it lives on its own rules, and that is one thing I am perfectly fine with.

Cheers!