My SPIC Farewell...

Today was a red letter day.
We (the senior members) knew we were in for something nice and worthy of space in our internal memory registers. And I must say, the thass, the people, the coming together, the music, the admin, the college, the balls, the grass, the misunderstood wicked tree (not necessarily in that order), all made sure it was just that.

Life I've always felt is prone to 'degenerate'(?) into a sequence of oscillations.
In every single plane of human sensitivity, there is scope for many extremes. And I believe its easy to get carried away towards one, and then come rushing back in a desperate attempt to maintain sanity, and in turn overshoot to the opposite end.
Events such as the day that was today, have the power to push one in a particular way with absolutely no limits. And in spite of the relative un-advisability of extreme living, I think such 'spikes' in the (relatively) moribund curves of our individual existences ARE important.

For due to the inertial nature of our consciousness, it is again very easy to slip into any given comfort zone, upon sufficient continuous exposure.
Today's event serves to wake oneself from the 'comfort' zone of a routined life which is 'doomed' to an existence of passive spectator-ship. Today was the symbol of all things alive and abounding; of energy and a sense of comfortable ease bursting at its seams; of a thought simple in its airs, but with the might to shake a thousand earths.

While all the love was all too evident, so was the sense of potent mortality. The transience that underlines our every role in life; the fact that nothing (except hopefully this(!)) really will survive the test of "infinite-dimensional time"; the unnerving feeling that this indeed is one of THE last times that I'll meet you, ABC dearest; the sense of an inevitable shift in all life coordinates fast approaching, all these diversely (and BEAUTIFULLY) hued emotions were beautifully etched on the perfection that was lived today.

Indeed, today really IS all one has between a (potentially) nagging past and a (potentially) unreal, uncertain, unknown future. More on this later.

For now, today was simply, very, very beautiful.

Sigh.. So much love.

Aanandam...

The Greatest Gift of all...

What is the best treat one can give to oneself? I shall not venture into gift ideas for friends, simply because thats fraught with risks of subjectivity, specific likings, relationship levels, et al, very very et al.

To arrive at the answer that I have in my head already, here is my concocted derivation.

The aim of our every action is to experience happiness &/or bliss. It goes without saying, that not all lead to instant gratification, but to an extent, the hope for the future can be seen as part of today's joy in the face of difficulty.

Anyhow...
Now I turn our attention to the world we live in today. Being a member of the privileged sections of society, we are prone (dutifully?) to be buried under heaps of hecticity. In the cocktail of exams, parties, TV, Email, SMS, Man_U and other such, one is often forced to mould oneself in a way so as to accommodate all said activities. Living in a world thats growing faster and faster, its easy to lose sight of one's self from time to time.

So, you've just found out you've won the FGH Thingamajig. You're at home, all alone. Or at least, the moment you found out said news, you were alone in essence. In that one moment, what is the single most valuable thing you can gift yourself?

I feel, the answer is VELLAPANA.
I say so because I believe being vella and indulging in thass goes beyond the externalities of sheer time pass et al. Being vella, in effect is being alone with your self. Your self being, more often than not, the most neglected member of your social circle.
Imagine, upon finding out the news, just feasting on a double serving of vella; doing what you really want, to be happy, irresponsible if need be; to listen to music, to read up on randomness, or even to write this post.

Yes, the social functions of a get-together followed by gorging and guzzling are important. They're part of our social-ness I guess. But before we entertain anyone else in the world, is it too much to ask, to spare a moment for your own self? (Here of course the dynamics of time are such that a moment may effectively be equivalent to hours and hours of unbridled thass...)

I hypothesize, that a social celebration without adequate merriment with the self would invariably lead to a hollow(er) experience overall.

Thus, I'd request all of you to try your hands at good ol' fashioned "nothing-in-particular"ness, the next time you feel the need to splurge.

I can assure you, this gift isn't as easy to present as one might think. The challenges in sticking to one's void guns are surprisingly tough.

Good Night!
Catching up on sleep is next on my list of things to do, after 'nothing'.

Cheers!

Cho Chweet 2 - High on...

All hail, Anthon Berg!

To quote from this beautiful poem, albeit GLORIOUSLY out of context (subjective?):

In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures life may perfect be.

Cho Chweet 1 - My latest gadget!

I love it. Its colourful, it speaks, and even has neo-techno music!

PS: pardon the horizontality!

My recursive dream!

Its the night of 30th (;-) April, and yes, I had the IIM results induced butterflies in my tummy.
Knowing that the results are due that night/next morning isn't a very tranquil feeling.

Anyhoo...
There I was, lying on my bed, 5:15am, watching the curtains gradually brighten up. I had already had 3 dreams, of myself going through the respective institute sites and google news too, in the hope of getting my hands on the result, all in vain.
Tired of living the same dream over and over, I got up. On my way to the computer, I glanced at my mobile. 2 missed calls and a message.
Hmmm.
1 missed from Debasish (co-IIM hopeful), and one from Ashish.
Hmmmmmm.
And Ashish telling me to listen to Alanis Morrisette's timeless 'One hand in my pocket'.
Hmmmmmmmmmmmm....
Am I supposed to read into random symbolism here?
The only way to know was to make a dash to the comp and literally live those haunting dreams.

And I did just that. Listening to Coldplay's 'Violet Hill' on a loop was a nice accompaniment.
Sadly enough, all the dreams actually did come true. No results out yet (of the ones I'd been interviewed for: A,C,I,K). Half "I've HAD it with this!" and half asleep, I messaged Debasish about the futility of my early morning exercise, and Ashish about the millions of times I'd heard the song already.
With that, I went back to sleep. It was now 6:20am.

Now, the recursion begins.
The first dream I had in my 2nd innings asleep:
I'm at R.K. Puram. The point where a road used to end, has now magically been transformed into an idyllic hang out place. Architecturally superior (and similar) to the courts of Dilli Haat, with a food court and a big Pizza place (Name not revealed due to lack of coherent memory, and not trademark issues!).
Anyhoo..
I reach there, and am awe struck by the wonder of its new look. And there I find the gang, waiting to surprise me. I distinctly recall Manish, Vidya, Akshay and Ashish. Though there were quite a few more there, who somehow missed by dreamy view. I can assume the rest of the list, but for the sake of 'factual objectivity', I shall keep it to this (i LOVE the irony here! :-)
Continuing.
So I reach this amazing place. I'm in a slightly pensive mood, owing to the hanging nature of the results. I catch hold of Vidya and tell her just how crazy things have been, relating to the three-petition of the futile result hunt dream. I'm happy to see the holistic grandeur of the ambience... my place, my people, all the works, but the gnawing sense of magnified uncertainty is all too evident, and leaves me huffing and puffing.
Next thing I remember, I'm away from the party scene, and with some nameless, faceless companion. The location is still in the vicinity of the venue of the 'still fresh in memory' get together, but not quite there. I am now relating the amazing "Renovated RK Puram get together" dream to this person. I explain to him/her all the nuances of what was there first, and what was there in the dream; I tell him/her the people I'd met, and even the despairing rant shared with Vidya.

And the next thing I remember, I'm awoken by my brother at 9am. Debo's message tells me B's result is out. I rush to check the others. And after the initial blankness of purpose, C comes, and thats all thats come as of now. Not the point that.

SO, to conclude:
I have a series of 3 identical dreams.
After an hour's break of consciousness, I have a dream in which I relate the 1st series in a fantasy, and then relate the fantasy in a more normal setting. And finally, I have related this entire drama to you, dear patient and considerate reader. I hope the figure at the beginning makes more sense now.

Violet Hill is still on.
Some things shall stay the same, transcending boundaries of n dimensions. At least one can hope so.
On that seriously concocted philosophical note, I end my account of my "Triple Level Cojointed Recursive Dream".

Good Morning!