Archive for June, 2008

Mundane Obsessions, Part I



Article to be posted later.

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A Lost Love Found

Back in 7th grade, I remember discovering a band that truly mesmerized me. Their easy-flowing lyrics complimented by the casual vocals created contradicting feelings of restlessness and tranquility in me. This band is called “Travis“. I stopped listening to them as my music taste broadened and I discovered new romances. Recently, while browsing through Flickr, I came across a few photos that suddenly reminded me of Travis. I searched my music database for their numbers, and there weren’t any (which means I probably burnt them in one of my mixed CDs, and I didn’t have any idea which one). I almost felt thirsty to listen to them again and spent an entire evening downloading a couple of their songs. Unfortunately, like before, their music wasn’t as easily available on LimeWire and BearShare – the two P2Ps I use to satisfy my soul with music and videos. From the few I did manage to download, I felt nostalgic towards “Flowers In The Window“. I remember the nights I spent humming it inside my head. Ah, the sweet yesterdays.

So, here it is. Lyrics of “Flowers In the Window” from Travis.

When I first held you I was cold
A melting snowman I was told
But there was no-one there to hold
Before I swore that I would be alone forever more

Wow, look at you now
Flowers in the window
Its such a lovely day
And I’m glad that you feel the same
‘cos to stand up
I’m in the crowd
You are one in a million

And I love you so lets watch the flowers grow
There is no reason to feel bad
But there are many seasons to feel glad, sad, mad
Its just a bunch of feelings that we have to hold
But I am here to help you with the load

Wow, look at you now
Flowers in the window
Its such a lovely day
And I’m glad that you feel the same
‘cos to stand up
I’m in the crowd
You are one in a million
And I love you so lets watch the flowers grow

So now we’re here and now is fine
So far away from there
And there is time, time, time
To plant new seeds and watch them grow
So there’ll be flowers in the window when we go

Wow, look at you now
Flowers in the window
Its such a lovely day
And I’m glad that you feel the same
‘cos to stand up
I’m in the crowd
You are one in a million
And I love you so lets watch the flowers grow

Wow, look at you now
Flowers in the window
Its such a lovely day
And I’m glad that you feel the same
‘cos to stand up
I’m in the crowd
You are one in a million
And I love you so lets watch the flowers grow
Lets watch the flowers grow

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Letting Go, Getting High

“So, what’re you going to be when you grow up?”

“Oh, well first I’ll be a pilot and fly like a bird. My plane will crash and then I’ll become a doctor so I can make them all well. I’ll also be a police to fight crime!” replied the whimsical 7-year old.

I smiled back at her, patted her back and my mind calculated twenty or so years when all the pretty dreams will be gone.

Seriously.

Growing up and getting heartbroken is a symbiotic process. One cannot be without the other. I spent my childhood imagining to be Superwoman and save the world, and here I am, years later, only trying save a few breaths from this tiresome life so I’ll have some left to save the world. It’s almost I’ve got my teeth clenched, biting onto that mission and repeatedly telling myself I’ve still got a shot.

Sadly, that seems remarkably unlikely. As I spend sleepless nights trying to make a balance between my dreams and harshness of reality, saving the world is a true impossibility. I try counting the number of times I had to let go one of my beloved phantasms about my future only to submit to the more practical demands of it, and they were countless. Like I mentioned, getting heartbroken is a way of life.

I’m sorry. Am I boring you to death with a truckload of immature pondering? Pardon me, I just got my dreams taken away. I’m allowed three days of misery and whining. This won’t take much of your time, I promise. Only three days.

That was one helluva of a night. I came back home after experiencing two of my most favourite things – light headed music and rain. My Dad came up to me, gave me a look that divided between curiousity and disappointment, and told me how I’ll be nothing in life. The conversation and his explanation itself would make quite the story, but I was too busy trying to swallow it down to plan my next book. He told me how I’ve been a stupid ass, making up silly fantasies and been so stubborn about things that won’t make money for me. Added to that were the predictable series of comparisons. My friend’s ex-wife’s younger brother’s girlfriend’s cousin’s daughter did this or that woman’s older daughter’s colleague’s son did that. Again, the connections would have been funny if I wasn’t too busy getting my heart rolled into a tiny sphere and thrown outside the window. He quietly and confidently concluded I’ll fail in my exams, not get into a good college, be miserable and penniless for the rest of life and one day, regret wasting time.

Wow Dad! If you knew so much, why did you bother trying for so many years?

Bitterness aside, unfortunately, he was right. If I didn’t get down seriously into career planning, I should start fearing failure. The problem with me was I knew what I wanted to do in life, and that’s exactly what my parents didn’t want me to do. My plans, or priorities were set as follows:
(a) Like the 7-year old who would get those dreams broken eventually, I wanted to be a pilot. I still do, really. I truly feel passionate about flying planes.
(b) I’d happily get into a Fine Arts undergrads course, graduate a couple of years later and fight insomnia by painting people.

Of course, those were the “untouchables”. Plan A was too expensive, and Plan B doesn’t guarantee anything. Few artists make money and fewer get to a place where everything looks as great as in TV.

My “more real” plan was to opt for a Media & Communications course abroad. If I don’t get an edge into the monstrously wicked financial aid scheme most colleges have come up with for their hundreds of thousands of international applicants, I could do with a Media course here at one of the private universities. My Dad has a problem with that too. It makes the “family look bad” if the kids don’t get sky-humping grades or doesn’t go into a public university. These things make you look good at a dinner party when you’re comparing kids and can boast about how your one made it to the top 20 at the admission examinations and is now a proud worm, kissing asses of the finest faculty that this country can offer.

In quest of the “perfect career”, my dad suggested a career counseling session. Let me remind you here how I feel about counselors of any sort. I find them nagging pieces of crap who make money out of interfering into other people’s lives. Don’t start arguing with me. I’m aware of the fact NOT all counselors are money-making mongooses, rapping “Quack! Quack! Quack!” Some of them were genuinely interesting and interested, respectable human beings. I’ve come across one of them with a blog, but that’s another story. I smirked at my Dad for the suggestion and imagined a 40-year old man telling me how life is easy for me since my parents are doctors.
“Areh beta! You can just follow your parents! Ah ha ha!”
I would roll my eyes and tell him to crack another of his jokes so I can spend the next seven days of my life laughing at it. I agree. My skepticism is too bigoted.

So, there I am. Trying to isolate my love from my career. I don’t want to disappoint or hurt my parents. At the end of the day, they have done an incredible lot for me. Unfortunately, it’s painful for me to let go of my dreams. They’re the ones that pulled me together in the worst of times and reminded me of the light at the end of the tunnel. My parents don’t ever tell me exactly what they want me to be in life. I know it’s something grand, and whenever I ask for specifics, they tell me to choose for myself. The next thing I know, my choice is silly and I need to grow up.

I wish I could get high for the next three days and not worry about all this. I would drown in an eclectic feeling of frustrated ecstasy. I know it’s NOT the answer to my question (and I know the answers), but I feel crushed at having to let go of everything I love.

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Phase 02

word: thash thush

mood: apathetic

food: chicken fry

song(s):
The Fray – “How To Save A Life”
Eiffel 65 – “I’m Blue”
Nickelback – “Far Away”
Ornob – “Chai”

situation:

almost at the end of exams, career dilemma, selective interaction

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dekhecho ki taa?

ami shunechi
shunechi
shunechi jaa

tumi dekhecho ki taa?

megher opaare
niil’er aanginaye
kuasha khele ekka dokka.

shesh bikele
godhuli aaloye
prem’e dobaa bhela’r
lutoputi, hutoputi khela.

ami shunechi
shunechi
shunechi jaa

tumi dekhecho ki taa?

shaagoer tiire
baali konaa’e
dukkho chapaa dewa
aabeg,
haariye jawa shotta.

ami shunechi
tarahiin raat’e
jhijhi daake
jonaak nache
josna khoje,
tumi dekhecho ki taa.

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Phase 01

word: whatever

mood: pissed off

song(s):
The Wallflowers – “Into the Mystic”
Ornob – “Lukiye”

food: cocola chocolate wafer rolls

situation:
A2 exam conditions. stressed out, worried and disinterested.

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Stopping By The Woods On A Snowy Evening (Robert Frost)

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep.
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.


One of the first poems I’ve read in life and have come to fall in love with.

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