The Moratorium on Brains

Now this is something that really goes a long way describing the kind of world I am living in and the kind of world I want to live in. This took place just a few days back at my Fluid Mechanics lab.

Now my batch has got these 3 teachers for the lab course, all of whom are amateurs. No I am not trying to degrade them- not yet at least. Now to summarize the situation of the lab, it will be sufficient to say that there are not more than 3 people in the entire class who really know or have any desire of knowing what is going on exactly in the experiments. I have no qualms in stating that I am one of those 3 people. I do not consider it a crime to do the right thing or to be interested in the right things.

So here I am in the lab surrounded by people who are just waiting for the bell to ring so they can get out and lead whatever they choose to call as life during their free time. And I submit the experiment that I had conducted last week. While computing the value for the required parameter, I found that I had got a large difference in the values of the parameter found out graphically and analytically. And I had discovered that the reason was not some error in the reading or in the calculations. It was something more fundamental. It was in the very derivation of the formula. In the end, I realized that the vast difference was due to the assumption of a convenient value for the power of a certain other parameter. And I realized that whatever result I was getting through graph was not wrong in actuality. It was actually through the graph that one should interpret the result. At the time of me discovering this, I had a very memorable moment actually comprehending the beauty of the concept.

And so I let the values stay in the record book. And I submitted it to the instructors. And I had put in extra efforts to write the record. I hadn’t copied a single word. I made it as neat as I could do it. And in the end it came out quite well I should say. I was happy with myself when I gave that record.

And so after some time, the teacher calls me and asks me to explain the difference in the values. I begin with lots of enthusiasm. I really felt happy to narrate her the amazing experience I had when discovering the subtle concept. And to my shock, all the 3 teachers are just staring at me as if I am out of my senses and that i am somebody who cant understand the subject. I was trying to make them see the beauty of the situation. But all the response that I get is that I should have “manipulated” the graph to fit the values of the analytical results!

I quickly replied-“ Mam, I could have manipulated anytime and got the value of the analytical result. But I just left it as it is. I did not want to manipulate the readings.”

And then she reminds me that I had been asked to manipulate the readings in the graph on a previous occasion as well. I try to convince her that the very way the experiment is conducted is not right. But all I find is that I am talking to just some sort of human forms who have everything human except the ability to reason. I make an effort to help them see the situation as it was seen when the experiment was conducted 4 centuries ago and what the person tried to convey. I was trying to make them realize that the very purpose of a laboratory course was being defied. But the only response I could muster from them was that I was being asked to change the graph to fit the values.

And in the end it came down to authority and position. I was sidelined and was awarded 7 on 10. 7 on 10 while others who had copied the entire stuff they had written and had no clue about what was in it ended up getting 8 and above. And when I asked the teacher as to how come I was given fewer marks, all the 3 teachers could do was to give me that smile which very proudly declared that I was in a world which did not allow one to think by themselves. And that I was not expected to be any sort of exception. It was as if they were reminding me that I was not required to think by myself and instead that all I had to do was to just follow what has been taught till now even if it contradicted whatever some great man had found out centuries ago by thinking different from all the others around him.

And this is the kind of world that I am living in. And all I can see around me are more people who have realized that thinking is not required or those who are trying to make others realize that thinking independently is something not to be done in this world today.

And so from now on, I will do what is required to get whatever value I am supposed to get as per analytical formulae. It will kill me everytime I do it. But I will do it. Because you see, that is the only way of surviving in this world where reason has been deemed redundant. I might as well start copying everything that I write and I might end up getting the same marks, probably more. But I wont do it. Not because I don’t trust others( that is a fact, but that is not the reason). It is because what I write will not be of my own thought or of my own creation. It is someone else’s. And I don’t feed on someone else’s creation. Each creation is the triumph of that one person who made it happen.

And whatever I do is MINE. Irrespective of whether this world recognizes it or not. I had read a question in a book for which I have high regards. It asked: “Who is John Galt?” I ask something else.

Where is John Galt when you need him the most?

This whole blog is not meant to be understood by all those who read it. All those who read it and either cant understand it or are not able to appreciate the magnitude of the situation, have no purpose on this planet. It’s not that I don’t care what you think of me. It’s just that I don’t think of any of you.

My time will come. Then I will let all of you out there know what I mean by leading a life and what it means to actually live.

The Moratorium on Brains will not last forever

Requiem for the Past

A requiem is a funeral song and it is sung, well, during funerals. No, nobody I know of personally died or anything. But in one of my previous blog posts, I had mentioned that a formal funeral hadn’t yet taken place. Well, I guess it’s time had come. The funeral took place yesterday in the morning amidst really unusual circumstances.
I am talking about the funeral of my relationship with one of my one-time close friend. It wasn’t too hard on me. I guess that’s why I am not unduly worried or concerned about it. Anyway it all started two days back when this friend of mine gave me a missed call after like some 4 months. Four months during which no effort was made whatsoever on her part to call me or atleast give me a missed call so that I would call back. Nothing at all. And then all of a sudden, this girl calls out of nowhere and still expects me to call her back. Ok. I was really curious. So I called her back.
The conversation went on smoothly. She laughed a lot. It will be fair to say that I made her laugh. Six months back it would have meant something really special. But now, after 4 months of neglect, it didn’t make any difference at all. Nothing whatsoever. I was surprised myself. But come to think of it, the whole conversation as such didn’t seem to make any difference in anyway to me. It didn’t make me happy. It didn’t make me depressed, or angry or anything for that matter. I found out that I was experiencing the most basic form of human indifference. It just didn’t matter to me what she said or how she responded. After talking to her for well over an hour, I just went back to my books and started studying. It was as if nothing had ever taken place at all.
But I had told her about my blog. I gave her the address. So yesterday morning, when I was doing my drawing assignment, I get a message. It was from her and it said that she was reading my blog. And she messaged me that part I had written about her in “cleaning out my closet”. And she said she was deeply hurt and that no one had been this rude to her ever before. She said she wanted to cry but couldn’t as she was in a browsing center. She went on to say that it was not that people didn’t deserve me but that I didn’t deserve anyone. And she asked me to make that change in the blog.
She says that calling me the previous night was one of her biggest mistakes.( I still don’t know why she called me in the first place.) And so I reply saying that I had no problem in declaring that I was rid of all guilt because none of this was my mistake. I told her that she had no idea about how much pain she caused me. I told her that she had made no effort to even check whether I was dead or alive. And I asked her to ask herself honestly if she made any effort to contact me at all. The reply I got was that she didn’t want any more of my messages. She said that now she didn’t want to even know if I was alive or dead. And she said “bye”.
I guess there was nothing left to do but to say the same back to her. But I decided to do it in a more civilized way. So I just messaged saying that I did not have any guilt whatsoever. And that time had come indeed to part. I wished her all the best for her future and expressed my wish that she live her dreams. I told her that in case at any point of time, if she ever remembered me, then I requested her to remind herself of the better times that we had. And I bid her “bye” and told her to take care.
And that was it. Period.
I somehow liked to think of her whenever I listened to “Scarborough Fair” by Simon and Garfunkel. I am listening to it right now. But I am not thinking of her anymore. I guess she is now a thing of my past. It just didn’t make any difference to me at all when I came to know that I would not be talking to her anymore. I just looked at my mobile and then carried on with whatever I was doing.
I guess its just been another reason for me to sit in front of my computer and type a blog post. Nothing more. Well for all you know, even that is getting over. Soon there will be nothing to remind me of all those times. I guess, in the end, it just didn't make any difference.
Come to think of it in a much broader view, it looks like the past is just going away. Nothing of that dreadful past I had, seems to be around me anymore. Simply put, it is now time to sing. Sing a song. Sing a funeral song. For the funeral of my past.
The Requiem for my Past sings aloud. And ahead.
Here I come.

Aaaah!!

My college has not yet got the internet facilities to the hostel. And god damn it! I am really feeling handicapped! I cant blog. I cant do anything...!
This is a new kinda frustration!

Another chance...Another Semester.

That’s right. Here I am…all over again. This is my fifth take at this thing that we all call life. It has been more than 2 years now, since I had my first shot at this thing. And I have been having retakes every 4-5 months. Every semester I complete is like another 4 months down the drain. Every time I set out on my next semester I feel it is going to be different. I feel it is going to be better than my previous ones. But in the end, when my exams arrive, the only realization that comes into my head is that I am just 4 more months closer to my grave. The first thought that comes to my head at that time is that of shooting myself point blank with a 3-mm gun. But that is again just a thought which I can’t simply put into action. It is just that desire to escape reality that permits these thoughts into my head. And I seem to get that thought quite frequently nowadays.

It has without fail come to me every exam, every test, every quiz test, every assignment that I have copied, every class I have bunked, every day that I dint take bath, every Sunday that I got up late, every hour I wasted playing some or the other game on my computer, every day I dint do my spiritual duties, every week that I did not make an effort to call my parents, every unnecessary call that I made, every time I saw someone succeed and realize that I could have done a much better job than them, every time I plan for the week and don’t stick to it, every time I promise myself something and don’t live up to it, every time I look at the mobile phone and realize that just looking at it is not going to make it ring, every time some unknown person tells me that I don’t have anyone to talk to when I need to, every time I look at my Mridangam and remember that I haven’t been playing it since quite some time, every time I finish watching a movie and realize that I wont be studying that much time I had promised myself I would at the start of that movie, every time my results come out of any test that I have attended and realize that I am saved because a majority of the class is worse than me, every time I meet my Professor, whom I treat as God , and he tells me that I am one of those really gifted people who are hard to find these days, every time that I have to tell my results to my parents, in fact, every time I speak to my parents and they ask me how I am studying, every time I think that I deserve someone special in my life, every time I let my clothes unwashed for a long time, every time a lecturer asks a question in the class and either I don’t know the answer or someone else answers it, every time I think of what I wanted to be and every time I think of what I am.

“ ….that it’s not the way I had imagined it all in my mind.

….and the fault is my own and the fault is my own…”

So says a popular song. I cant agree more in my present situation.

I have big dreams. Not of having in my possessions a lot of materialistic things. But of a more fulfilling desire. A desire to see myself succeed – succeed big in what I always wanted to do. There is no greater pleasure and satisfaction in life than making something big happen- all just because of your effort. And that is my ultimate goal. And it cant be done in one night or in a year. But it can surely be done within the span of my life.

It feels very good to think about all the things one can actually accomplish. And it is an even greater feeling when one actually achieves them. But what does one do when one doesn’t have the faith arising due to past success? But instead has to bear the guilt of not doing what is required to do of him every damn day of his life?

You just do it.

Whoever gave that line must have just done it.

But again this is a new beginning for me. A new chance. A new semester. I will be leaving tomorrow night to my hostel. And what happens then onwards will be totally upto me. I have the freedom to make or break myself. I have a lot of plans for this semester.

“Plans that either come to nought

or half a page of scribbled lines…”

-“TIME” by Pink Floyd

I hope it doesn’t come to that. But yes I can still pull off something that I have put off for over two long miserable years. I had spoken of a phrase in one of my previous blogs that would be my identity soon. And I also said that I would not reveal it until I am worthy of it. I still stand by that. But for all those who have simply counted me off, I have nothing to say to all of you. For all the others, I say to you,

You were damn right.

Enough is Enough

Ok. This is it. I have had enough. I have spent enough time writing about girls than about myself. I guess it is indeed high time that I start living for myself than for anyone else. For those of u who have read the last entry, you will find that I have just been flushing out my past.

And rightly so. Past is indeed History. Period.

And so here I am. From now on the blogs will be more about me than anyone else.