May 28, 2014

The Life of a Problem

Too... heavy.. HELP!!


Now, this is going to be rather short one as I'm writing this quite hurriedly, and maybe it's a good thing because elaboration is not always a good thing when it comes to abstraction - the formlessness of an idea or its subtle qualities being best left to the intellectual prowess or analytic curiosity of the reader to be interpreted as he or she sees fit. A sort of meeting between the clear monologue of prose and the ambiguity of poetry, as far as the communication of the intended meaning goes.

A problem is born - at our hands, can we also kill them then?

A problem is birthed inadvertently and can be killed by the one facing it. It is not an external entity but rather an internal one, the parameters of its definition or form, being solely based on the torment it can cause the individual in question. The 'situation' is real - the 'problem' is a manufactured construct that qualifies the situation according to the individual. Hence the same situation can be a problem, not a problem or not as much of a problem etc. for different individuals simultaneously. 'Solving' a problem merely makes it dormant for the time being, essentially curing or treating the symptoms and then ignoring and later forgetting the underlying disease.

What then is the 'death' of the problem? The death of the problem is simply destroying its formative structure or the building blocks of it, that exists in our minds as loss or suffering attached to it. The factors that go in to making a situation a problem being abstract concepts in our minds subject to its control, it is merely a matter of taking charge of them internally - at least theoretically.

Hence, when we kill a problem, we are simultaneously letting go of something, which in turn makes it harder for further problems to arise and also therefore, makes us stronger and more resilient to this ailment that is inherent in us by birth.

"Don't try to solve a problem. Instead just dissolve it." - J Krishnamurthy

May 27, 2014

Stale Life, Bland Optimism

I can almost taste it. Yes, that's the overwhelming aspect of it. The sensation that, by process of elimination, that I can attach to my taste buds. It has to be (I think). Or at least, it provides with it, quite generously I might add, a sensation or feeling akin to taste - the taste of cold, bland and charred morsels of ill prepared food.

My hollowed out mind rings with the biting cold it creates within. I am talking about boredom.

Not the 'I don't know what to do now', 'I wish there was something fun to do' kind of boredom that easily brings with it a tremendous array of possible solutions - one need only get bored enough to seek them out. Besides, these last but a short while and are, in a manner of speaking, the children of the one lasting situation I am referring to.

I am bored with everything. And I mean everything. Not to sound hyperbolic, but life has for me become one distraction after another, not a pursuit of a dream or even happiness, but quite simply the avoidance of boredom.

And I have, during the liberal amounts of idle time I have acquired over the years, pondered over what could be the missing link - the one key aspect I'm over looking that could perchance get rid of this 'sickness' (for the lack of a better word).

No, it is not the 'idle time' that's causing this in the first place. Give me some credit here, would you? I would have noted that already. In fact, I did pursue that line of investigation and end up occupying myself for days at an end with 'work' of some kind or the other. But even during those times, all I felt was the boredom lying there flat underneath all the tasks and deadlines, ready to reveal itself at a moment's notice.

The fact that I was aware of this is surely proof enough of my failure to get rid of it with obvious labour.

No, I need a more permanent solution - if there is one. This is, in effect, not a problem created by time or the lack of it, but rather something that possesses my mind.

In my enquiries in to the recesses of my mind, I have observed various symptoms of this and also many signs that could account for my weak optimism in what the future might bring.

The world can be a pretty dull and dry playground for one pre occupied with thought. It holds much less wonder or sources of amusement. In a previous post, I explored the possibility whether this could be a result of my mind being closed to the potential the world around me holds. In a moment of uncharacteristic hope filled delusion, I even conceded to this failure on my part and concurred with the logical conclusion that I need only look for 'joy' to find it.

But I am wakeful now and I realise that I was myopic in my search for solutions and fit the evidence to prove a loose theory. It's not just joy that I lack, it's also the vast share of other emotions that drive one's life.

I admire those that can hold on to anger or sadness long enough to find some will to live from it but am myself incapable if this. I realize how ridiculous this might sound to someone, but the darker, stronger emotions to me are but visceral reactions to stuff and not lifelong scars that keep me motivated.

The only true reprieve from this state of blandness I have found over the years is human company. Something about not being alone for extended periods of time or maybe it's the rush of communicating with another mind, or maybe (and this is going to sound corny) just the relief from sharing the loads of thought that burden my mind.

In any way I look at it, this has been the only solution that seems to have lasted a while. But given my introversion, lack of social skills and possible insensitivity to emotions that I have inadvertently developed over the years, this answer always seems slightly out of my reach.

As I'm writing this, I also just had another epiphany - I understand finally why I can't appreciate poetry. All this while I reasoned it out as my love for clear thinking and unambiguous dialogue present only in prose. But now I see it's because I can't relate to what the words mean, what they try to show me, when presented as poetry.

So, in conclusion..

I sit here with these distractions, waiting for the moment when life will offer me something stunning - all the stuff the poets write about so eloquently - love, loss, anger..

Something to keep me moving, something to make this mechanical cycle of life, with its oiled iron wheels turning in tandem, stop in its track.

Something to make the whole episode which started 27 odd years ago worth remembering and worth irrationally holding on to in the end.



May 25, 2014

Roses R Red but...

Right on..

It’s only reasonable to reason with the recent reduction in resonance of resultant responses to refreshing recesses in redundant regaling of ravishing romantic ravings reminiscent of rapidly reductive refusals of respectable refrain from resisting the realization of redeeming but recreational reprisal of rambunctious roles reduced to that rallying recourse relegated to ridiculous rants rumoured to be remarkably rebellious in refining the resplendent restoration of redemptive rhymes recounting the robust restraint of rationale.

Really… it is..  :P 

a noNsenSical tHouGht sonG

courtesy - Mindux692 (deviantArt)


I'm a nonsensical thought song... walking around.. looking around.. going round and round..

I make no sense to most, and that's okay because I am on the fence about most.

Do I like or do I care? Maybe like just enough to care or care just enough to like without liking that I care or caring if I like.

I'm reasonably irrational and irrationally reasonable, and I ask why is it that I find reason in ration and search for ration in reasons.

I'm infamously unfamous and more importantly unimportant, but life is too infamous neither being important.

I'm fashionably knowledgeable and knowledgeably unfashionable, but it doesn't matter anyway cos I've no knowledge of fashion.

I'm sensitive about my insensitivity, or maybe I am insensitive about sensitivity, but does it matter either way cos I seem to be warming up to being cold.

There is purpose somewhere that waits for me but I don't seek it on purpose cos being purposeless seems purposeful to me.

I am lyrical but too cynical, maybe a bit discerning in how concerning I find the numb responses to my dumb despondence.

So you see how I am a nonsensical thought song who walks around and looks around, but am always around to go round and round?


May 24, 2014

Disquisition on Morality - Part II

courtesy - Phoenix Tattoos

The word morality basically means “the quality of thinking and behaving in a manner based on morals or moral attitudes or conduct”. Morals stand for a set of rules or a system that distinguishes between right and wrong, to put in a nut shell. The further one studies the definitions – they are subject to division as normative and descriptive.

Descriptive definition of morality speaks of a set of rules or attitudes or a system of right and wrong imposed on the individual by society, a section of the society (country, faith, religion etc.) or by the individual himself/herself. Normative definition, on the other hand, speaks of morality that is present universally as a result of rationality in humans and that every human is capable of imposing and subscribing to intrinsically. In both cases though, it is a set of rules that is imposed on a person and has the capacity to modify or govern his or her interaction with the world.

Now, while the definitions can be understood easily with the help of a single Google search, the theories behind them require a little more comprehensive reading to be appreciated well.

I myself am going to grasp at this lofty branch of philosophy and various social sciences (and biology), from a motivated layman’s perspective; not due to any misgivings about the established conclusions but in order to challenge my own intellect and capabilities of reasoning beyond the usual analytic ‘surface scratching’ I restrict my writing to.

So, let’s begin with ‘Is morality necessary for a person’.

In this case, we shall focus on the word at its simplest level of conceptual existence – as a way of thinking that identifies and makes decisions based on right and wrong.

From any perspective you look at it, it seems fairly obvious that it (as a macro concept) is not an intentional creation or an inorganic construct manufactured by our thoughts. It almost seems natural that it exists, as a sort of component in that grand design of nature that strives to maintain and encourage life. To be clearer as to what I'm getting at, I'm suggesting that it was inevitable that evolution provide us with a rulebook for social conduct. I think morality was born out of natural progression of social growth. Of course, there are differences and divisions in the particular moral guides of many sections of the population, though almost all of them have the same motivating factor of ‘social acceptability’ driving their origins and subsequent existence.

Having said that, do I think we should conform our individual thinking to something that exists for the generalized ‘masses’? Or is it not even a choice? I subscribe to the theory that it is in fact a choice.

I realize that sounds a bit sluggish as a precise argument or suggestion. I was, actually, asking the reader if a particular individual’s thought should be subjected, if he or she possesses superior logical faculties, to a simplistic view on life which shapes in to nothing less than glorified slavery to ideologically rigid and flawed rules. The short and curt reply from my perspective would be no. I believe that the individual is capable of and must choose to make decisions or solve problems based on the relevant data pertaining to the event, independent of prefixed patterns.

Am I thinking this way because I am unable to put myself outside the subjective vision and see clearly the necessity in the origins of such a system, the negating of which even at an individual level could have far reaching implications? Well, it is possible I suppose.

But I think the whole analysis, in general, has more to do with my natural inclination to question anything I perceive as non essential to individual life. This mode of thinking has granted me certain perspectives on various established ‘truths’ of social functioning as I see it.

Let me clarify my argument by mutually beneficial further analysis.

Is morality, which means a ‘system’ of rules necessary for improving the quality of a person’s life? Does the abidance to any such system grant him or her, a particular advantage in the complex phenomenon of living?

One could argue at this juncture, the obvious prize of social acceptance alone should mandate such obedience to a more or less standard code of behaviour that exemplifies civility. But that would be over simplifying the actual dynamics of inter and intra societal interactions.

To put it more bluntly, society does not always look upon the moral and the ethical as the ideal nor does it always reward such behaviour with positivity. Let me reiterate – I'm not denying that it ever happens, merely pointing out the relational quality of such arrangements between the individual and the society.

As one delves deeper in to the chaotic seas of social events of all magnitudes, we find patterns and still deeper, we find underlying blocks of the real dynamic, and more often than not, we conclude that any and all interaction between two minds or between a mind and a collective, is essentially a power struggle that manifests itself in other ways.

If this is true, then ‘set rules’ only serve as chains that keep us bound, in perpetual codependency and discontent, to an intricate illusion which consumes our very minds and lives.

So, thought being the tool wielded by the individual and not by the collective, it becomes not only necessary but desirable to argue the possibility of a choice. Now, I realize how this sounds dangerously close to advocating immorality as the norm, but this argument at its crux exists merely to point out the flawed logic behind a standardized system that exerts an abundance of influence in a world that idealizes the ability of the individual mind and idolizes the individual who uses it to reap tangible and intangible benefits.

While this also then becomes an argument against any standardized system, let us restrict ourselves to the topic of this essay, especially given the fact that it encompasses a lot of other standards within it, by virtue of its nature.

The individual mind and its ability to choose, then, has to be upheld, at least at a notional level, so that it serves as a way of combating, in some small but necessary fashion, the creator less, ever changing sets of norms and generalizations imposed on the whole of the population.

Is it truly so inconceivable to consider the possibility of not having a moral code in mundane activties or even major life events? To see a problem as its own entity, in the light of variables that factor in to it without the guidance of established rules?

At least many of us reject the 'code' many times over in our life times, except in cases where breaking those rules would inevitably result in a personal loss of some kind. Not just material loss but loss of pride, emotional stability, joy or even identity.

It is here that we see the influence of the established codes on our very thought patterns and deeper psycho pathologies, even though we, as individuals, remain aware of how dynamic and impermanent they are in their forms and life spans.

What was acceptable as ‘right’ a few decades ago would not necessarily be accepted as ‘right’ now. Even while basking in the knowledge of this rather liberating fact, that demonstrates the easily recognizable deception in the permanency the moral code claims while asking for subservience to it, we are not capable of utilizing it in any effective manner when it comes to our sense of judgement or even perception of the world.

Is it because there is a corresponding similarity in our inherent perspective fuelled solely by our biology? That question is also up for debate.

For example, if a child were to be brought up in a social vacuum with no interaction with any of the agents of morality (models, rewards or punishments), would that child be free of such limitations in thinking?  Or does humanity hold within it the capacity for such a divisional approach to life by birth?

If so, it becomes imperative that we look into what is the significance behind the ‘right’ and the ‘wrong’. We have to analyse whether these concepts, or rather the essence behind these symbols, have a life of their own outside our own subjective and highly suggestible interpretations of the perceived reality – i.e. does the natural world allow such distinctions in it the spectrum of life that exists, apart from in our minds?

Is there an actuality called ‘good’ or is it merely a quality we have assigned to certain aspects of existence in an attempt to categorize and quantify its abstract and often incomprehensible form? Can it objectively assist, without the aid of comparison, in the definition of an individual’s ‘character’ or serve in his or her progression through life in a ‘successful’ manner?

Please wait for Part 3...

May 23, 2014

An Argument in Silence

M: I can't help it you know. (looks down)

W: I know it's not your fault, but you have to at least try. For us. You have to make it work.

M: But I was born this way. It's the only way I can survive, be happy... 

E: You think you're happy? That we are happy?

M: You have no say in this. You screw everything up. (glares at E in righteous indignation)

E: Oh my, my.. aren't we superior? Tell me, the last time we had this debate, who won? 

M: THAT WAS DIFFERENT! You... you tricked me! 

E: All's fair in love and war dear.. A concept you should clearly wrap your head around.

W: I think you shouldn't be a part of this E. If you can't help, please leave us to it.

E: Hey, I did try to help, remember? Before, I gave him every opportunity to be his own man.

M: Stop talking to me like I'm a child. Only he (points to W) gets to do that! You don't, you bastard!

E: Oh yeah? Boy, I have had you wrapped around my fingers for ages now. And you still think you're free?

W: Stop it you two! There are bigger things at stake here... (points to the clock) Time is not on our side.

M: And who's fault is that? (looks at E in anger) It was him, he burned that bridge.

E: Oh please, get a grip. All I did was what I was supposed to do, it was you who went 'off script'!

M: I did what I had to do too.. for the larger good! For us as a whole..

E: That's what you're going with? You did it for us? Please.. you did it for YOU!

W: Guys, we still can salvage the situation. All we need is to come to an agreement now.

M: You seriosuly expect me to work with him? (points at E)

W: Yes! I do. We are a team, we always have been, but we let one another carry the burden too often.

E: I always played my part to perfection. 

W: It's not about one of striving for perfection, it's about trying to help each other through with it.

M: But we're all too strong willed to let that happen. Soon enough one of us will go rogue as usual...

W: Then we take precautions. We each keep the other in check and step in when needed.

E: You think that'll work? I mean, it sounds nice and all but.. 

W: We make it work. We have to. (looks at the clock). For example... (looks at M)

M: What?

W: You have a say in how it runs. You do, I've seen you do it before.

M: I don't know. It just happens sometimes. It's not on purpose. I swear.

W: Then make it happen on purpose. Practice. I have faith in you.. (turns to E)

E: Okay then.. let's hear it. What's my role in this little play?

W: You will tone it down.. Don't get upset. All I'm saying is whenever you feel too excited, come to us..

E: And you will do what? Pray tell.. (mockingly) You know I'm too strong for you to take me down..

M: I bet we can, if we tried.. (smiles and clutches his fists in anticipation)

W: Nobody is taking anybody down! (looks at E) We will simply talk you back to normal. Okay?

E: Hey, if you think you can, go for it.. (smiles) but I must warn you, I can be pretty persuasive..

M: So can I.

W: Let's stop right here. Let's not take it too far. For now. This is a war, and there will be many battles.

E: I always like a war.

M: I'm game too. I'm quite the strategist. 

E: Oh really? You keep with your strategies and I'll show you what a soldier does.. (grins)

W: Enough! Enough already... (sighs)


In the above conversation, M is the 'mind', E is the 'emotion' and W is the 'will'. Just a random idea that was playing in my head.. or an argument that I penned down when it got too annoying. :P

May 20, 2014

The Confession of a Digital Prisoner



Listen up unknown reader, time is of the essence here...

This is a confession of sorts. I feel at ease now and that helps with the narrative about to follow, I guess.

Now, where do I start?

Okay, so..

I have no trouble being wordy. In fact it's one of my most cherished and practically (let's not forget fiscally) useless gifts which serves me two purposes:

1. I get to 'vent' with a stream of synonymous jargon that strikes me at the time of inspiration. Sort of like 'pretentious stuttering' or 'eloquent squealing'.  Like the stuff Stephanie Meyer can pull off with sparkles, abs and fangs to blissfully send teenage girls dancing into emotional retardation... you know, bullshit with candy hearts on top.

2.I get to smile wide at my LCD screen at odd hours these days in genuine satisfaction at my certifiable 'brilliance' at being able to breathe new life into stuff nobody wants to read (and most want dead). And I tip my hat in salute and generous encouragement at the poor souls who do give it a shot, but wake up from la la land minutes later with memories of suspiciously boring dreams.

Then why start this blog? Why start a blog that makes no sense to the general population.. or just population? or just people.. with eyes?

Side not: Blogger just told me the word 'blog' doesn't exist. Irony anyone?

The simple answer is - I haven't the faintest idea.

When I started the blog, the notion that possessed me one late September day, was to think of it as a digital diary of sorts that can be read and commented upon by strangers. A bright endeavour based on the stupidest of logics, unfortunately cleverly concealed by routine boredom, a broadband connection and the sound of belching buffaloes in rural Andhra.

This product, also brought to you by a guy who never in his life kept a diary or even vaguely wanted to (except for about a few days in primary school after reading Dracula, when a diary seemed like a good window in to the supernatural - it did not work out).

Now the genesis of this fine piece of cyber real estate explained, let me move on to the more pertinent 'why still?' Why not just stop?

And that is my tale of woe. How I've been paying for a mistake I made months ago. A slip of the mind which spiralled in to madness with each click on Blogger.

Why can't I just stop?

Because he likes it now... in other words - that door is closed for good and I am a prisoner.

See I have a problem and no, admitting is not the first step here. If I like something, the kid inside me (who periodically wakes up to reach for the stars and pretend to be a couch and so on) takes over. I have no say in the matter.

I (this would be the grown up part) tried reasoning with him. I even brought out the big guns like 'page views' and 'g+ shares' to make him see the error of his ways. I begged and pleaded with him to no avail.

He just seems hell bent on exploring all possible avenues of worldly uselessness before letting me take the wheel again.

And so, I sit here day after day, hoping the kid would choke on his own thesaurus and let me have my moment in the land of communication, where the 'shares' roam free and pretty 'likes' frolic in the sun. And I pray to a deity that looks more and more like the logo of Google each passing day, to save me.

Maybe tomorrow is the day, one hopes... staring at the playfully blinking modem, enchanting in its cosmic design.. the day I get to write something worth reading.

Let me be clear though, I have no illusions  - he is strong and stubborn.

As I'm writing this now, I know my time is running out. I can already feel the kid stir from his deep slumber, ready to take it all away and drag me back to those forsaken verbal dungeons for my insolence in writing this. Of telling you what secrets lie behind this sinister URL.

So I leave you now, and I beg you to pray for my everlasting literary soul.

Oh I hear tiny footsteps approaching in my heart, and I feel a phrase coming - vociferous harangue.. Oh damn it, damn it all..

May Google help me...











May 19, 2014

Hi! Do you know me.. or you?

Pardon me... What??


In a recent conversation or rather in my recollection of one, like many others I might have forgotten, I was forced to face that deadliest of my foes - the shadowy figure that clouds my senses and numbs my reason to the point that I am sliding and tumbling down a verbal (sometimes non verbal) chute that opens, after a long winding descent, in to pure chaotic angst and demoralizing bursts of anger.

I am talking about that ghost that looms threateningly over the most fundamental of our interactions from our day to day pleasantries with the world, to the most meaningful of expressive gestures we sometimes call upon - its long, snaky fingers coiling around our thoughts strangling their essence and distorting their purpose... the sinister spirit of our underlying obsolete design... the guardian of the gates that lead to emotional heaven and hell... the all powerful and deceptive agent of calamity... miscommunication.

The moment I recognized it's presence of course, I had to take a step back and look at the whole interaction but in doing so, I inadvertently came to see what I feared - it was wilier in its infiltration of the verbal spectrum than I expected, and even more diabolical in its camouflage of tempestuous sentiment and hurtful pride.

How much do I know of what I represent to every intelligent being external to my senses? How much of what I feel, think and know to be true of them could be considered factual (at least for practical purposes)?

Do I know them at all? Do they know me?

While I've always reasoned that no one can ever truly 'know' someone because of the relative insignificance of what can be communicated versus what is even the momentary reality of a person, I might have, in tunnel vision of the matter due to other prejudices, chosen not to see how much of that communication too is adulterated and contaminated beyond use.

The need to communicate our thoughts in some form or other is of course, one of the driving motivations of the human race but let us also at this point take in to consideration the communication that happens within our mind.

Our mind, though appearing as more or less unified in its illusory image to the outside world and in it's behaviour and interaction with it, is very much divided in its functioning.

For example, our emotions have to be processed by our mind for us to actually deal with it - either through communication, suppression or any other form of action. How much miscommunication happens even at this level of our consciousness for us to be forced to think or maybe even say at some point "I don't really know what I'm feeling."

How much of us, then, do we define by what is communicated - either by us or to us?

Is there such a thing as 'true communication' at all or is all that we know mostly a product of re interpreting fragmented pieces and then piecing them together to suit our individual and collective needs?

Perhaps this is why in all the practices of self discovery and truth, thought  -which can be considered the vehicle of miscommunication - is seen as the enemy of peace and enlightenment. Maybe it is by design that we have to communicate ourselves to everything else; why we feel the need for a representation of our 'self' to that which exists outside it - so that we are forever doomed to be slaves chained by nature to this tormenting cycle of half truths and gaudy lies that lure us over and over again to the promised place of clarity, only to find ourselves grabbing at the dry sands of misery and unending questions.

So that's what I feel about miscommunication. You got it right? Yes? Thanks. No? Why not? 

Maybe I should have expressed it more clearly. Or maybe you should have tried a bit harder. No?

But what the hell... at least you know where I'm coming from, yes? Me? Who am I? What do you mean who am I? The sheer nerve... I know you... Wait... don't I? 







May 14, 2014

To Hell with the Standards


To hell with the standards and bell curves and the norms you spew..

I am friendly to some, I'm a stranger to some, at times I'm both to the very same few.

I adore some and I despise some, sometimes I feel both for the very same few.

I am bigger than some, I'm smaller than some, at time I am both to the very same few.

I am smarter than some, I'm dumber than some, sometimes I'm both to the very same few.


I am sweet to some, I am bitter to some, at times I'm both to the very same few.


I want to be alone, I want be among many, at times I realize it doesn't matter any.

I have gained many things, I've lost many things, at times I feel like I need no things.

I forget some things, I cherish some things, at times I fear I never knew these things.

I see many things, I'm blind to many things, at time I question if these things even exist.


I see where I'm going, I don't care where I'm going, at times I forget if I'm going at all.

I dream of days to come, I dread the days to come, sometimes I feel both for the very same days to come.

I treasure my life, I despair at my life, sometimes I feel both for the very same life.

I love myself, I loathe myself, at times I feel both for the very same self.


So to hell with the standards and bell curves and norms you spew..

I set my own rules cos I'm not you.... or ANYBOdy u wANt me To B.