Achieving
There were once 23 (+/- 2) extremely special, little, brown squirrels. They kept running around the University of Texas with only their commitment to a cause holding them together. They all had this yearning desire to spread their brown squirrel-ness among the other thousands of squirrels. The leader-squirrel was the most hardworking squirrel that the squirrel-community had ever seen, in addition to being unbelievably nice and super-unbelievably calm. The vice-leader squirrel was this tiny, cute, little, passionate thing – you’d probably never find a squirrel more principled in life, in addition to the tons of fun this squirrel could instigate. There were also two special-breed squirrels. One of them was the genetically-enhanced-by-the-Squirrel-God “U-squirrel” and the other was the genetically-modified-by-passion “S-squirrel”. Now these 2 special squirrels were like pioneers for the other extremely special, little, brown squirrels. They inspired, motivated, helped and guided these extremely special, little, brown squirrels through crisis and dilemmas. All in all, these 23 (+/- 2) extremely special, little, brown squirrels were a united bunch of squirrels, functioning together to pervade their brownness throughout the flora and fauna of the University of Texas.
These 23 (+/- 2) extremely special, little, brown squirrels hosted a cluster of events –from serving brown-squirrel-food on campus to hosting thousands of squirrels in the biggest of squirrel-run events. Oh, how these extremely special, little, brown squirrels slogged their extremely special, little, brown backsides off! All this did not obviously come without drama. There were fights, arguments, clashes of opinions, and cut-throat disagreements – oh, these little brown squirrels were feisty and passionate little creatures! But these clashes were always constructive, and in the end, the best won through, and all the differences seemed to evaporate. Instead, there was this binding brown-squirrel-love that ignited. And then, all these extremely special, little, brown squirrels were merry again.
This cycle of constructive clashes was what made these 23 (+/- 2) little, brown squirrels extremely special. But, one day, like a bolt from the blue, Zeus bolted upon these little, brown squirrels, a curse. Oh, how the thunder clouds trembled over these little, brown squirrels! They argued like there was no tomorrow, and they hit an all time emotional low - drama and controversy unparalleled. Life moved on and these 23 (+/- 2) little, brown squirrels limped ahead too. They did their duties, but seemed scarred. The brown-squirrel electricity seemed to have dropped by a few voltages. As, the year came towards end, these 23 (+/- 2) little, brown squirrels didn’t seem to feel the love.
However, amidst all this depression, something hidden under the squirrelly-covers erupted. The 23 (+/- 2) extremely special little, brown squirrels won the coveted title of being the “most outstanding” squirrel group in the University of Texas for all their efforts. All of a sudden, everything seemed worth it. All the stress, pain, anger and frustration fizzled out only to convert into this great feeling of pride. The extremely special, little, brown squirrels had achieved something of great consequence. There was this sense of deserved accomplishment among the squirrels, and for that moment, the fights and the personal riffs seemed irrelevant. There was this burning desire to celebrate and treasure the achievement.
Treasured, appreciated and celebrated, the moment soon transcended into bitter nostalgia. All the squirrels seemed to look beyond the differences, and seemed to be lost in the memories – the ups, the downs, the laughs, the cries, the fights, the love, the anger, the stress and above all, the squirrel-ly experience.
But, just like how all zeniths have a climax, these 23 (+/- 2) extremely special little, brown squirrels also reached a point of decision. Some of the squirrels felt that they had had enough of the rollercoaster and decided to walk away, satisfied with memories. Some squirrels decided to continue spreading the brown squirrel-ness that they had grown to love. Some squirrels left prematurely, heart-broken and unable to get over the past. Some were driven out and some just drifted away, in search of something different, satisfied with what they had experienced. But, all of these squirrels hoped that there would be new squirrels to take their place and continue spreading the brown-squirrel-ness and wished them the very best of luck. The squirrels realized that just like the American Economy, everything that has a boom also has a recession. They hoped that there wouldn’t be that much of a recession, but instead more of a transition – a replacement, a restart. No squirrel can deny how much the experience has taught them, probably more than any squirrelly book could. Accepting all of this, they ended their united chapter, and looked at starting new, separate, individual ones.
P.S. As the story-teller, I’d say this would make a pretty decent feature film. Anybody want to name the squirrels?
Dancing With The Girl
Long time, no blog? Yes sir – women, dances and a ton of university work. But besides that, between this post and the previous one, lies a phase of life that shouldn’t necessarily have happened but none the less, has enlightened my brain with quite a few pointers on life and women. Here’s the issue – I fall for the wrong girls. The nicer you are the less I am attracted to you. The more appropriate you are, the less I am attracted to you. The crazier you are, the more attracted I am to you. The more eccentrically messed up you are, the more I am attracted to you. I am attracted to those that fascinate me. Sounds good and all? Not really. The fascinating ones I am attracted to are the ones that screw me over. Intentionally or unintentionally? I don’t know - that makes it worse. Add that to my attachment issues and you get a bomb waiting to explode. Your friends warn you to STAY AWAY, and how much ever you respect their opinion, you do exactly the opposite. Hope + Hormones are powerful forces. The “chase” is even more powerful.
Now this “chase” is more than just stalking a random girl - that’s pure, hopeless, horny-ness. This “chase” is more hopeful. There is an undeniable “something”. That spark that you know exists is what makes it interesting. It’s not entirely one way. It might be dominated by one side, but that response from the other side is what sustains the “chase”. Then what gets added to the “chase” is this crazy mind game. Fun fun? No. I suck at mind games. I am too darn open and thus, always hand the leash to the other. I need to learn the game, or devise a new kick-ass one instead. This “chase” does sometime end and transcend into a more fruitful, stable phase, but at other times you get bulldozer-ed over. Either way, you cannot deny the pleasure of the pursuit.
I, like you, also, cannot deny the fun either. In this “chase” of mine, it wasn’t as if I was Mr Perfect and she messed up, I did some stupid things too (nothing unfaithful you drama-seeking mis-judgers). My over-emotional emotions got the better of my general emotions and I let those bastardic emotions control me. Not smart. I over-analyzed and over-thought everything. I over-said everything I felt. I was over-honest. None of that really works. What’s worse is that this situation made me say stupid, dramatic things. It unleashed this sense of immaturity that I thought didn’t exist in me. If I had ever seen someone else say the things I did say, I would have ridiculed that person’s bum off. I felt stupid and said stupid, immature, snappy, unreasonable, over-dramatic, attention-deriving things. That’s scary. But what I am super-scared of is the type of girls I am falling for. There was no real good reason to like this girl and I shouldn’t have. We are two extremes of the spectrum of humanity. We wouldn’t get along and were not getting along. But I did fall for her! I really hope it is some combination bad luck and hormones.
Anyway, “things” did happen and things did fall apart. All for the good, eh? I think so. My friends turned out to be right, and my counselor back in Dubai helped me take it all out in addition to showering her wise words of wisdom on me. My sister told me to buy this book and I told myself to try and never succumb to my emotions again. I regret some things I said and I regret some things that happened, but I learnt a ton. Good enough.
P.S. Maybe a little too personal, this post is not intended to harm anyone. Writing helps.
Nothingness
Spring break is here. Woot woot! Time to parttaaayy! Get those trunks and bikinis out y’all, it’s time to hit the beach! Let’s get high! Let’s crunk it up, hoe! Let’s do this, bro!
Not really.
I am in Dobie, doing nothing, and I am loving every moment of it. It’s this weird satisfaction that you get when no one’s telling you what to do. It’s this no-responsibility, no-liability, do-whatever-the-hell-you-want like phase. You sleep when you want, eat when you want, play when you want, listen to music when you want and do absolutely what you want to. It’s brilliant. I have no family member to be nice to or to respect, I have no chore to do that I don’t want to, I have nobody to force myself to talk to - I have nothing to do that I need to. It is pure freedom and it’s bloody brilliant.
The past year has been awesome, no doubt, but there comes a time when you really just want to sit down and do nothing. All my past life, there has been someone looking over or someone I owe a responsibility too or someone I feel I need to make happy – be it mum or dad, or a friend or some other family member. Not now, and it, for some reason feels very good. It’s not that I despise any of these people, it’s just that I am going through a much needed release - a removal of the load of maintaining yourself for the sake of others, a removal of all the unnecessary drama that I somehow get entangled in, a removal of all silly complications, and just a time to sit down and breathe. It’s a time to do a little introspection and think about nothing or everything. It’s a completely no-strings-attached reason to enjoy myself and my life, away from the people I am always surrounded by, away from the good and away from the bad.
I am not in any way saying that I want this situation to last forever. No, I’d go insane without people – without my friends, without family and without everyone who I care about. But, there comes a time when you need to be away from every single thing, when you need to be alone and lonely. This loneliness is not depressing - it’s mind-bogglingly fulfilling. For me, this is that time.
P.S. I don’t when I am gonna get sick of this feeling – maybe sooner than I can imagine. But right now, it’s beautiful, let me enjoy it.
Euphoria
I had waited a long time for this. It came and is now embedded as a memory, not merely a memory of what it was, but a memory of how it felt. No, it's not sex you over-assuming perverts. It was just a concert. I knew every song and almost every word. Inhibitions withdrawn, I transcended into this swoon of satisfaction, and let go. Almost voiceless and tired after, not to mention deflowered, I finally understood what I could only see on Ali's face at the Iron Maiden concert in March of 2007. It's this weird feeling of how everything makes sense, and everything is so right. I almost can't believe the power of music at times, and the power that live music unfurls is only amplified.
I thank Tarryn for taking me to Houston and back. matchbox twenty rocked the kasbah, or rather the Toyota Center, and I don't care how anyone else feels or felt about it, but I feel and felt bloody great. I guess I needed the release to some extent. I was having a crappy day thanks to the over-paranoid nature that I sometimes seem to illicit within me, but MB20 sorted all that out. Michael Buble, a night earlier, was brilliant too. His concert was more chilled though, in contrast to the energetic, heart-stomping matchboxers. 2 kick-ass concerts in 2 days - I like very much so, lots of.
ICA (& ISA) is bringing Penn Masala's booties down to UT and that should also be fairly entertaining. A Capella is fascinating, eh? Ever heard of "vocal play"? Naturally 7, who opened for Michael Buble, are "vocal players". Ali, you should have heard how one of the dudes belted out a distorted guitar solo. It was unfriggin' believable. I'll post videos on FB soon.
Talking about ICA, a bunch of the ICA committee just pulled an all-nighter to put together the "Swing-Out Application", in our quest to capture the unprecedented-ly glorious award of "Most Outstanding Organization". I was, as usual, making a video - turned out decent enough.
In other self-obsessed news, I and Jason and Tarryn have Bon Jovi to look forward to this April. Ali will probably automatically, emotionally and mentally, message the brain-centers of the world how brilliant a Bon Jovi experience can be - it's a pity how some arrogant, insecure guys frame them as "gay". That's either defensive pessimism or downright superficial. Go die on a prayer, losers.
P.S. 19 feels the same as 18. Birthdays are over-rated.
Fadoslessness
The futility of futility is so futile. I did nothing of great consequence today. That basically means that today, I did no studying. Two important midterms are coming up this Tuesday and I have done absolutely nothing to prepare for the either of them. My bad, all my bad…
I thought Fado’s, this Irish pub on 5th street, screwed me over by over-charging my debit card. WelI, I thought wrong, and ended up wasting a whopping two hours traveling to and fro from Fados, thanks to a bus detour, only to later find out that they really hadn’t overcharged my debit card. Apologies Fado’s, but WTF Anish?
Ooh, I am going to be shaking my booty for Jashan ’08 this year to some Bollywood rhythm! I am weirdly excited because it’s been forever since I dhin-chakd (danced) on stage. It kinda brings back those young frivolous days but, at the same time, allows you to be mature enough to not get over-conscious about yourself. Essentially, it’s all for the fun of it. And when something this fun can uphold ICA's solemn goal of pervading Indian culture through the roots of the UT campus, then why not go with the flow?
I am going to now print some study material for tomorrow and hit the bed. Screw the studying. If you do something, do it to the best of your ability. I am currently procrastinating, so I will do it to the best of my ability.
P.S. Peace and have a great week.
Satanic Pointlessness
We partied last night. I’d have liked to say we partied hard, but we really didn’t. It was one of those Valentine ’s Day parties – a “red light” party to be precise. No, it has not got anything to do with prostitution you over-assuming perverts. What the “red light” basically refers to is that when you enter, you get a colored neck-glow-band according to your current “relationship status” – red to stay wed (i.e. those taken), green for those who are single and ready to mingle, and yellow to stay mellow (i.e. stay neutral). Super cool, eh? Yeah, right. What they should have also had was pink to wink and blue to screw – would have made the night way more interesting.
Club parties are getting boring. I don’t drink because self-intoxication is pointless, so that basically means that I have to look for un-intoxicating ways to get “happy”. I enjoy dancing, but a crappy DJ doesn’t help with that. What really gets to me about these club parties is the sexual tension that floats in the air. Everyone is checking everyone out in the most sexual of ways. That’s fine I guess, but annoying thing #1 is that a lot of things are assumed. If you ask a girl for a dance, they almost all assume that you are shouting out, “Hey, can I get into your pants?” This might be true for some horny guys, but sometimes, a dance is just a dance. If it does proceed to the pants, good for you, because you very well know that you (and your lovely friends) will not let yourself get into the wrong pants. Annoying thing #2: People hate it when someone who they find unattractive harmlessly flirts with them – it’s “weird”. But, if a sexy SOB comes along knocking on the vaginal door, it’s obviously no longer “weird”. Get over yourself you arrogant self obsessed maniacs! Instead, be flattered by the attention that you get, however “ugly” the source seems to be.
Frat house parties are worse, at least through my lens - taboo alcohol flowing like the “Ganges” (Ganga!), sexual tension blowing like the Westerlies and dancing opportunities only as flexible as the first-stage bicentennial man, does not help. Also, being surrounded by drunken people is funny only to a particular extent. At least dancing at clubs with unassuming, decent girls to decent music is a decent amount of fun; but house parties for the un-intoxicated is only a live, monotonously boring, visual encyclopedia of young people.
We, as in Jason and I, had an early morning today. We walked down to Fados, this Irish pub on 5th street, at 9 in the morning to watch the Satan’s Children – Arsenal game. Arsenal played miserably and Eboue is going to hell. But the Satan’s Children victory was pretty pointless as it seemed that Arsenal were not in any mood to play football or “soccer”. I have the same views as this guy, so let this guy bore/entertain you.
P.S. We (ICA/ISA) are bringing down Penn Masala to UT. Woot woot! I need to make a flier/hand-bill for their show.