Comeback.

Writing is no more the same. Earlier, it was a simple process. As I sat down running my hands gently over the keys and even before I pressed a single key an avalanche of thoughts would rush down from my mind into my hands. As I paved my way through those clusters of thoughts from varying interests picking up ideas that were analogous; I could carve them into something presentable. People appreciated it and that gave way to newer ideas to evolve within and a larger enthusiasm to carve them into a beautiful article. However, I have reached a ‘coma’ in my journey of creativity. It’s a sudden pause that is difficult to explain. I still have my hands with all eight fingers intact and thumb firmly placed on the spacebar. I also purchased a new keyboard, the glossy keys with neat printed alphabets which urge me to concatenate them into an appreciable manner. But it is something within that has lost its glaze.

My mind has lost somewhere among those clusters of ideas that has crowded its workspace. Suddenly, my mind has turned claustrophobic. It is not that I have never been in this situation but there is something about the moment I cannot explain my mind. It is constantly asking me for explanation but I condone its plea as I have larger issues at hand in the real world. Now, I have finally spared some time to find answers for my skeptical and obscure mind. I calmly ponder upon at the crowd of thoughts, ideas and memories that have clustered and constrained my mind. Inadvertently, I find nothing new. The entire scenario was something my creativity thrived on. It was out of this pandemonium that my mind would often help me engineer marvels that were appreciated by many. So what was the conundrum posed by time? I tried to think deeper. I assessed the situation from its root. How my earlier creations came into being? I said to myself, “ I developed ideas by learning each moment, every psychology, every situation, every phenomenon. Later, I thought over it again and again. Assessed, evaluated and also implied at times to verify them on a practical platform.
Is the situation different? I questioned myself. As I began analyzing my current state, the picture started bettering till I could finally understand my dilemma. Entering into the new phase of life has changed the equations for me. I am no more the teenager who had the freedom to pose a mere spectator to worldly issues. I am no more the novice who’s opinion was not worth. I am no more the juvenile who thinks he can control the world since he is able to make decisions at his own leisure. I am no more the youngster who could put aside his share of responsibilities and enjoy a weekend with friends or may be even plan a vacation by manipulating his schedule. I am no more the favourite student of a particular teacher who would provide him special guidance in tough situations. I am no more the kid that the elder’s often ignored and would be least interested whether or not he learned about important issues around. Today, I am a graduate- I am a professional. I do not think how I can change the world but I am worried of finding a right spot to fit myself in the larger picture. I am only favourite of those who can benefit from my work and I am a part of a constant race to prove myself to my colleagues and every other person around me who is directly or indirectly associated with my work. . More importantly, I require to prove myself and try not to lose myself in the rat race because no matter by what amount the number of variables in the equation increase, they would always equal to success in my formula for life. As I struggle to make a comeback, at least I realize now, its not the inspiration but the state of mind I am searching for.

The End.

For the past few months i have been struggling with my blog. the last couple of updates came from a small reservoir. currently, however, i have nothing to offer. may be i have nothing left within me. may be i gave out all that i have. although, all that i have was not enough for me, its a truth i require to accept someday. every creation has its end, for most writers the end of their creativity is their death. unfortunately, i am no writer. the truth is i never was.

writing was never my passion. i never wrote something because i held a strong emotion related to the idea. its just that it sounded "cool". writing was a rather unusual journey i began with. it was one journey that went on for a long time, though i never planned it to happen nor to continue. it all started when a friend of mine, whom i had a crush on, mentioned about some friend of hers who wrote beautiful poems. she herself wrote a couple but i never really had the chance to read many of her writings. i have always been a "why not?" type of a person. so, as a means to impress my friend, i asked myself-"what could be so tough with writing poems?" i had read so many poems in english literature by that time. i sat down to write a few lines. i could hardly manage approximately six to eight lines and i gave up. i carried that incomplete poem in my wallet for some time without even realising it was there. soon , the day arrived. i was having a casual conversation with her when she once again mentioned about her friend and his poem. i said,"i write too, i wrote one recently but its incomplete". she wanted to hear those incomplete lines. i rushed to my room and picked up my wallet. i rushed back to the telephone and read out- life is a war and we all are warriors,
some accept defeat, some chose to lead,
some find friends to go, some alone face the foe,
some fall in love and lose the battle,
some rise in love and chose to settle,
but the battle is still to be won,
as our aim's not just to find the one.

she looked impressed. i was happy to be praised by her. she thought i was talented. i knew, i wasnt. she encouraged me to complete the poem. i tried harder. finally, i completed. i was not happy because i wrote the first poem of my life but i did something that made someone happy. when i recited the poem to her she was happy. later, she shared a couple of her poems and i was encouraged to shape my ideas into poems. gradually, i reached a phase where i could no more frame verses. but, i wanted to write. i wanted to write because i had carried my writing far enough for many to appreciate it. the only way to keep my writing alive was to avoid restraining my mind by attempting to constrain simple ideas into short sentences. this is when i began writing articles.

every time i wrote an article i estimated the response. however, the fate of me as a writer was concealed. when i look at the friend who once encouraged me to write and many other who have succeeded as writers i realize the difference between their and my words. it was for the very simple reason that i wrote for people to appreciate and they wrote for people to acknowledge that i have finally reached my end as a writer. rather it would be inappropriate to call myself a writer in the minutest sense. a pretentious writer that i have been for 6 long years, i am somehow glad that this phase appeared in my life. these few writing would remain with me till i die. i know there wont be any other creation on this blog henceforth for i have reached the end.

What is happiness??

What is happiness? I asked a toddler,
It is when daddy gets a toy for me.
This is the answer I received,
Although true but not complete.
What is happiness? I asked a teen,
It is when I am free to do as I please.
This is the answer I received,
Although true but not complete.
What is happiness? I asked a man,
It is when I can fulfill all the needs of my family.
This is the answer I received,
Although true but not complete.
What is happiness? I asked an old man,
It is when I am content with my journey.
This is the answer I received,
Although true but not complete.

If the toddler’s answer is what I agree,
Then toys and gifts would make the world happy.
If the teen’s answer is what I agree,
Then happiness would be defined as spree.
If the man’s answer is what I agree,
Then a happy family would make the world happy.
The old man’s answer was rather intriguing,
It was so precise while others’ so materialistic,
And if I comprehend the answer of first three,
They complement the same philosophy.

Helpless

We are puppets tied to strings,
Controlled by a puppeteer,
Life is what each one calls,
He governs the entire cluster.

The puppets earn him his bread,
But has to follow some rules,
A balance necessarily followed,
He is a victim of his own rules.

His friends are death and time,
Who help him in his play,
Generation, evolution and destruction,
Unavoidable phenomena in every way.

He calls us ‘being’, his bread winners,
And endows power upon each one,
To chose a role of our own,
And maintain a flow in the long run.

Obsession of power envelopes his puppets,
Some even try to defy his laws,
Extending their power to the zenith,
Still unable to escape his claws.

He is invincible for any single puppet,
Even a majority may prove less,
Only a puppet who can see the larger picture,
Realizes, against life, he is always helpless.

Change.

I always thought that it was my quest for satisfaction that made my life a constant struggle. however, when i look at the past i realize that my quest was victorious in parts. it is when i ponder, i realize that i started my struggle with an ideal intention. the struggle at one point of time became so intense that the pace of it consumed me distracting me from my real intentions. now, i was fighting with life because i had to fight not because i wanted to. it became a habit. finally, life took a pause. it gave me a chance to assess what i had turned my life into and how i wish to mould it in future.

It is now that i take my time to realize that my struggle was never to achieve satisfaction. satisfaction derives its importance from the existence of unhappiness and pain. satisfaction is the absence of that struggle wherein all you want to achieve is satisfaction. i got blinded by my struggle and accepted my life to be a constant struggle. today, life provided me a pause to realize what i have been fighting for so long isn't satisfaction. it is change.

I want satisfaction to last forever. i do not wish to see it change into anything else that i haven't known it to be. when i stepped into this world, i was placed satisfactorily in my mother's womb. i was warm with care, i was protected, i was never hungry or thirsty; i was satisfied and that's the way i was born. but slowly life changed. i had to express my need for care, i had to protect myself and look after my own bread. even worse was the fact that something as simple as a touch, a word, a gesture, a silence, presence or absence of someone and similar ideas that could easily lose its meaning in the larger world started creating a chaos in my life. i became so vulnerable that every second of life possessed a phenomenon that could change how things were in the earlier second.

Like many others i grew tired. fortunately, my life gave me a chance to understand what i was struggling for. once again i wanted to be cared without expressing the need to be cared, i wanted to be protected and fed; i wanted life to not change from the way i knew it for the first time. but what is done cannot be undone. all i can do is try to continue my quest for satisfaction without losing track of my true goal so that when i achieve that momentary satisfaction i am able to endure it.

Surpassing Me.

One of the most relaxing moments for me are the ones when i keep all my work aside and recollect all the memories since childhood that i treasure. i don't just reminisce. i also bring back memories of tragic moments. in the course of time, it has become a routine. the aspect of this routine that keeps the interest in my memories alive is that every time i get back to an old memory it has something more to offer. every time i analyze it, i realize that there has been a further event that has provided a greater perception of a previous event. it helps me grow as i prepare myself for impending challenges.

You always cherish the idea of a better future. especially, as a child, you dream to conquer the world and are willing to make every possible sacrifice. however, as you grow old you tend to grow fond of these sacrifices. something we fail to realize is that, at times, we chase the same dreams we once portrayed in our mind as children. the difference lays in the vision. the idea becomes less hypothetical as we advance. also our vision narrows. our definition of achievement becomes more and more complicated.

As a child it is a general scenario wherein parents compare their children to other children of the same age group performing better. parents always strive to set role models for their children- be it a legend or just the neighbourhood lad who brings home better test scores or behaves more obediently. a child never understands the true motive of his parents. the child himself faces an obscure conundrum. something we fail to realize is the individuality. unfortunately, we need a reference. it is not just the parents portraying their child to be a successful individual but the child himself trying to step into the shoes of a different person.

As a child i had my role models, my ideologies, my definitions. with time, they changed. either they changed because i did or vice versa. in either case, there was one factor that remained unchanged- achievement. irrespective of the role model, ideologies or definitions, i always wanted to achieve. the quest for achievement demanded me to change for better or worse. however, the reference for better or worse wasn't my idol or ideology- it was me. it was then i began the quest for surpassing me.

Profession.

I was in school when i first learnt the secret of succeeding in a career. a secret that has been learnt by almost every teenager during his or her school days. the simplest philosophy that most of us voluntarily or involuntarily attempt to apply to our lives. the secret- make your passion, your profession. the key is to enjoy your profession in order to be more efficient and to succeed. obviously, getting into a profession and succeeding in that profession are two different aspects of a career.

Unfortunately, the scenario today is a little different. although, the society still believes in teaching the younger generation to be passionate about their profession and chose their hobby as their career, the practical scenario has a different story to unveil. i am a graduate. more precisely, i am an engineer. but engineering is not my passion. i have various hobbies and have been asked by many as to why i never considered choosing my hobby as my career. i never bothered justifying them because most Indians are too idealistic with their advices. i do not say that my theories are completely practical or its the ultimate reality but its my experience, my story.

As i grew older, the industry somewhere failed to assure me the success if i chose my hobby as my profession. another point of view could be that i was myslef never confident of succeeding in that field. not because i wasn't good but because i wasn't the best. someone may suggest that not everyone is born best but requires to work in order to become the best. this is where the industry did not seem supportive.

The way i mentioned about the secret of success known by every teenager then, there is another secret of success known by every graduate today. "In order to enter the industry, every candidate should be able to sell himself to the company. and even as a person works in an industry he requires to sustain a higher value for himself. every step, he should have something to offer to the industry. because today, the industry does not require an employee, the employee needs the industry." With globalization, the skills that were once acquired through hardwork and intelligence are now on sale. can an era in which knowledge and philosophy are marketed, value a person's passion? at the end of the day, its not always about right and wrong, its about profit and loss. more importantly, its not about personal satisfaction; its about the company's satisfaction.

I dont need to explain what a hobby is. however, we all agree that in a particular passion that we practice, we tend to experiment with our ideas. there is a certain freedom of thought; unconstrained. the end result is a new creation which provides you with self satisfaction. but if that certain passion is a profession then it isnt the creation but the appreciation of that creation which is a matter of self satisfaction. as a result of which the creativity gets constrained and the very act that once made a person happy, drives him into depression. but then you still have a reason not to worry because most organizations have a yoga or meditation or dance classes in order to help you relieve your stress and perform better. in short, a company follows a simple policy- if u love to swim they throw u in the deepest ocean giving you an "opportunity" to cross it with a few logs "just in case".

However sarcastic i try to be i cannot change the ground reality. the entire system has that kind of flow to it. hence, i chose not to make my passion, my profession. for me, my profession is a challenge. if i win, it elevates my confidence. if i lose, it lowers my confidence. yet, i realize that at the end of the day if i lose i will never break. because there are these "things" i do that help me understand that there is more to me and i can allow a fresh start next day. i write, i draw, i play, i travel, i cook and i read tarots; all with utmost passion and i know that till the day i am alive i have all these "things" i can do which make me feel real, feel alive, feel worth because they are my passion and not......my profession.