Melancholic Ecstasy - Redux

The sun set on my plains several years back. The eyes that once opened me to the light and dark, the high and low, the black and white and blue and yellow and red of everything, and everyone around me; they now stand clouded and shut - muted to a world that seems to be growing more and more vibrant by the day.

I'm not sure when this darkness sprang up from behind me; it couldn't have been too abrupt a transition, even though it seemed just so to the self that had perhaps been too engrossed on the peripherals. I think I noticed this change in my life only a few aeons back, and since then the question of what exactly led to that which led to the sun getting plugged out from my universe has haunted every single particle of my being.

Ever since yesterday however, there has been a change in the air around; the touch of that omnipresent emptiness has changed from one of indifference and cold detachment bordering on hostility, to one that is considerably more gentle, more involved, and quite simply closer to that very intangible yet potent conception of 'life'. It was no wonder then, that the eye albeit still closed, experienced something strongly reminiscent of the times of yore. Detecting such a flurry of activity in its environs, it didn't take the mind too long to stimulate itself into activity at levels that had long seemed extinct. Simulations began to run concurrently in the central imaging repository as part of attempts to guess the specific causal force behind all the excitement. Possibilities ranged from the fluttering wings of a butterfly, to the auralities emanating from a distant cuckoo bird, to a drop of water from the heavens, falling on the parched soul.
The next several hours were spent in this process, wherein logical probes into one's past experiences soon graduated to a complete and vivid recollection and reliving of the myriad colours that had punctuated one's life all those ages back.

And then, in the darkest hour of the night, I became suddenly aware of the flight of fancy that I was in the midst of; I saw the mirage that had been at the root of this whole trip all along; I felt, after what seemed like the entire duration of one's childhood, the very real sense of futility, meaningless and insignificance flowing in me, through me, and in everything all around me. Just for a second, I felt the emptiness spreading deep within me; it was a hollowing out like never before, for it was after all one that followed a ray of seemingly untouchable light, and love.

But just then, I noticed her standing behind me.
She was a muse that the world dared not touch; a beauty that had been among the most forlorn creations under the thousand suns above. Looking upon her, I thought I caught a fleeting upward glance, and then a hesitant backward step, as if suddenly aware of my awareness of her presence; a presence that had been there before we were, before I was, and would remain hereafter onwards and forever, as with all things celestial and pure.

Cognizant now of a soul more practised in the fine art of solitude than the most devout of sages, I knew this long and blinding journey had been for a reason. The elements stood still as did time.
And within the next blink of that cosmic eye, I had made her mine, and she had captured me for all of eternity.

To the world she may be the most sorrowful of embodiments; the companion on journeys always avoided. And I knew the doubts that could arise: of this companionship being an escape, a desperate attempt at clinging on to the last remaining semblance of meaning and purpose. But in that moment, I also knew that none of that mattered.
For to the world she might be the dark and disfiguring melancholia, but to me, in my hands, as I immerse myself in her being, she is my melancholic ecstasy.

Is this real?
But then again, what is?

Night and Day

How wonderful that night should fall
On a day that still has much to say
Like a mother tucking in her child
Still wont for song & dance & play

The stars up above they shine
Silent actors in the night's tale
And even if the child does whine
It knows its ships are set to sail

These voyages prepare the self
For mornings await the darkest ray
How wonderful that night should fall
On a day that still has much to say

FB and its ilk of whore bazaars

Pre-Scriptum: Before any daggers come out against this hapless observer and documenter on the title above, please note the following statement made by one of the pillars of one’s batch, back in the neck of the woods one calls one’s own:

“This world is made up of 2 kinds of people; there are those who do, and those who manage – whores and pimps.”

(Respects PP!)

At the level of abstraction defined by the above statement, is where the title resides. Thank you, now you may please disarm and proceed.

--

This relates to the massively pervasive phenomenon that is FB, and other social networking tools today.

The fundamental question that leads me to this thought train, is just why we do what we do on all such forums. The answer, one must realize, is comprised of several intricate layers, drawing equally from the depths of human insecurities, desires, monies and its ilk.. Indeed a gamut that is yet to be fully discovered, to be fairly objective.

So, what is it that drives us every single day, to log into gtalk, and think of a funny sounding status message; to open facebook and traverse page after page looking for opportunities to comment, participate and involve ourselves in an ocean of hyperactive insignificance?

The following would be my guesses on just what comprises that causal/correlated factor set:

1. The constant need to signal to the outside world, and potential mates in particular, the eligibility of the self for present and future consideration: While this may sound evolutionarily clichéd, this very certainly does seem to be the most obvious of the various reasons and influencing factors. Of course, one could also argue that this angle forms the core motivation behind everything we do, from education to career development, to collecting symbols of material acclaim; it isn’t too convoluted a path that links all of these to the need to procreate, and procreate well. I shall get back to this point in a while, or maybe I won’t; let’s see.

2. The online medium serving as a proxy that facilitates the process of satisfying the innate need for affiliation, and related derivatives such as acceptance and affection: With lives rapidly growing quicker paced than ever before, emotions are vying for space with their fast-food generation cousins. That the needs in man have not changed even in a drastically changed era, means the channels explored in the pursuit of said needs have evolved, with interesting consequences on his relations and interactions with his surroundings.

3. An idea elaborated upon by Ta-Nehisi Coates, and forwarded by Amit Varma, stating the overpowering fear of being left alone with oneself; of facing “the terror of (one’s) own singular thoughts”, as being one of the core motivations to rely on social media. As I write this, I realize this point could manifest itself at two levels:

a) A reluctance to indulge in what one is consciously aware as present in the mind of the self: In this category would come the drudgeries of everyday existence, in the form of short and long term worries and concerns. Thus social media, as the pub and a casual game of football in the olden days, serves to provide a short term escape from these, and in some cases, avenues to stumble upon a solution that would perhaps not have graced one’s senses otherwise.

b) The second level is relatively darker and deeper in shade, and refers to that very invisible, yet infinitely potent fear of one’s own core; darkness and dirt abounding. This fear, one must observe, is much, much harder to escape, and in effect requires one to either face and overcome it, or immerse oneself in a potentially endless sea of makeshift meaning, logic and illusion. This avoidance of reality may be rooted, in turn, in the following:

i. A fear of the unknown, in that one is terrified of realizing, and living with the fact that much of what happens in even one’s immediate vicinity is beyond the mortal confines of one’s reasoning and explanation.

ii. Again the darker one follows second, with the second possibility being of a fear of one’s own true identity. This point looks at that unexplored self as the bottomless pit of the darkest and most despised aspects of the world and one’s perception of the self. Solitude, by this school of thought, would force one to explore this mysteriously un-unraveled part of the self. To discover what lies beneath the seemingly intransient self-image would be a matter of pure and unadulterated terror for the best of us, what with the very definition of one’s identity comfort zone at stake.

To put things in perspective, one must realize that the said realization is the equivalent, if not much a considerably deeper denomination, of waking up one day to realize one’s family was indeed not one’s own, or that the world as one knew it was just a dream; and all of these analogies relate to things external to one’s precious self, imagine the plight of the poor child within on knowing he wasn’t what he had always imagined himself to be.

4. This point finds itself more applicable to social media tools such as blogging and the like. I believe a major part of the whole online expression explosion may also be attributed to the very human need for appreciation, importance and an overly reflection-based sense of self-worth. To elaborate, I believe we have grown to associate more and more of our self-worth with what we perceive others to perceive of us. Even though such an orientation is required, to an extent, so ensure benchmarking based improvement, going all out external in one’s pursuit of self-actualization just kills out the ‘self’.

And thus we have blogs (such as this one right here) sprouting up in every nook and cranny, with several levels of what is commonly (and in jest) referred to as ‘shameless self-promotion’. The writer, as the nightingale in the poem by Vikram Seth, gets used to an audience, and soon begins to derive more and more of his feel from the responses that he does (or does not) elicit from those around him.

5. Finally, I would state the most natural of replies to the question at the fundament of this whole post: that social media helps one stay in touch with a diverse network of people who would otherwise have faded away into oblivion. On the expression front, one may also say that to share and co-create is in fact the goal of all social expression.

And both the above arguments are fine with me as well, for I am of the same species as the rest of us; no purer and no more a sinner. However, what has caused this seemingly ‘holier than thou’ rant right here, is a nauseous mix of the following:

1. The unbearably loud “Hey! Look at me! I’m smart/sexy/cool/bored/alive/stoned/phucked/etal” cries from everywhere. And an accompanied, unfathomably dark realization that one’s voice is also present in that cacophony.

2. A very personal, and yes completely irrational, aversion to public displays of anything of significance.

3. A realization that had knocked on my head 194 (or maybe 200 by now) times previously as well, on the growing sinkhole of time and resource that is FB and its ilk.

In spite of the above however, one’s awe for the power and potential of web2.0 (not FB) never ends; and thus bloggers, open source evangelists, and the entire merry clan of the land of 2.0 shall always be the recipients of my choicest respect. The conundrums faced on the publicity front are of course an issue (in my book), with no easy solution in prospect; for any idea, if it must achieve anything close to its potential, must invariably sleep with several hosts, and such a free flow of potential is exquisitely facilitated by the very forums this post seems to decry. And it is nobody’s business to pass judgment on when a posting transfers itself from socially active to obscenely vane.

Finally, as with most things in life, it is the bhaav which determines the purity of any thought, word or deed. Perhaps therein lays the answer, though subjectivities abound there as well. But yes, that is important, the point that web2.0 isn’t the evil, if there exists such a term.

Much to the dismay of the few who get spammed by me, I shall continue to write and share, for contentment with self-sharing of ideas is only false conceit. I shall look forward to a wider, deeper, and more holistic experience bouquet courtesy the wonders of 2.0.

Also, I shall indeed endeavour to kill off FB from my life. Yes, this shall not be my last post on this subject, and that this post shall be advertised on FB is undoubtedly ironic, and I also realize that I shall return to FB as well, being the social animal I am. However, one day FB, one day you shall cease to exist in my universe.

And at a point in time in the distant future relative to the above mentioned milestone, expression too shall lose its meaning on most fronts. And then web2/3/4.0 too shall become defunct in my little universe. Then, shall reign pure enlightenment, or pure madness – as time, and the kindly observer may deem it fit.

For all that lies ahead duniya, Godspeed! We shall meet soon enough..

PS: As goes without saying, all views are subject to the eyes of the beholder. So if you're keen on taking offense or any of its derivatives, go take it! :P

The Kerala Tourism video

Quite the FB phenomenon this video has been over the past few days/weeks. Slightly delayed, but here is what I made of the little beauty..



Details of the video per se, are irrelevant to this post, given as you can peruse through them at your convenience, from the embeddiment above, or otherwise. What one attempts to look at, is what it 'says' to you, and the why's and the how's of it.

The scenic opulence, almost a given with Santosh Sivan, is rather grand indeed. With the music to match, the stage sets itself for the key element to be revealed.

And then... what exactly happens then..?

In the remainder of the video, once your eyes and other such have adjusted to what is on offer, it tells you something very simple, in a manner that is unprecedented to your experiences on this front thus far. Furthermore, what it just whispered, in spite of its relative simplicity and what not, also happens to be one of the relatives to the universal existential crisis that plagues us all, among other things.

"Your moment is waiting"
Never before, in the many diversely hued tourism promotion campaigns one has witnessed, has the core message addressed something this intense, this deeply human; going beyond the relatively trite levels of culture, history and entertainment.
The moment may be taken to mean anything it means to one, but the audacity to link that to something as exploited as tourism, and then through an audio-visual masterpiece, do some semblance of justice to such a steep ask, is commendable.
That fleeting, invisible moment of transcendence, of realization, of life, has been portrayed like never before. One can completely imagine Sivan shaking within even as he thought up the fragments in his mind.

It is of course fitting, that this exploration of the inner domain, albeit facilitated by external supports, should be showcased by a province of this great land that has for millennia has pioneered in such endeavours.

Mortal arguments that the video doesn't say too much, given that such 'moments' may be lived in other places as well, shall receive a brief look from me, and the following:
Yes, the message of the moment is universal, and quite frankly, location invariant. However, that does not take anything away from the fact that nobody had thought of/dared to put such a thought to film before, at least in India; and also that in spite of the idyllics on display in the video, the coming together of elements so as to introduce oneself to oneself, is completely imaginable and possible, and in fact not as idyllic as the locales that surround it.

To me at least, the video purely as an indicator of where we are in terms of what and how we express of that which infests the mortal mind, is reason enough to smile, and laud the efforts of those behind it.