I’ve been callous, I must confess. But now, other people’s sadness is making me cry too: I can emphathize without feeling like a stupid person.

So, I’ve come to believe that I become more human when I feel sad for another person. So that my sadness isn’t great as it is in comparison (though it’s stayed the same since the Day!). You know what I’d love? To marry the sadness and have little kids who’re named Little Stupid and Little Insane. I guess, I’m more than a Little insane in comparison, which is again nice. Thank you for making me go through this, sweetheart.

“If you’re happy in a dream, does that count?”

And, when I wake up, I feel that I’ve been through the most tiring dream ever, day after day. This part makes the ordeal, ominous. But, even then sometimes the dreams are nice. Another thing, that I even tweeted about sometime back is how sleeping with a little music on could make me dream (try it yourself too! It may work for you as well). Such music-induced dreams are mostly always nice.

Elijah Price: It has begun. Tell me something, David. When you woke up this morning… Was it still there? The sadness?

One thing you realize waking up to is the unpredictability of life.

Remembering Estha’s ‘Two Thoughts’ in the pickle factory (from The God of Small Things)

“Anything can happen to Anyone” and

“It’s best to be prepared”

Death is a scary place for me. To think that people around you will one day be not there scares me. That, you could forget that it’s in the midst of life after all, is the convenience of living and tough phase of “moving on”.

Where and why did I stop?

To say the truth, I didn’t stop really. Life was happening as it should. Around me, and with me. I didn’t chronicle everything. But the time has come to look back and do a tad pondering over how life has been. Why everything is the way it is come to be, though not generally, but in a deeply personal way of speaking.

Of course, this wouldn’t make readable text for all. But, for some it should be. I’m more concerned about the portion of lovely people, who like to go through this grueling randomness in words.

There were no compromises along the way. I’ve done my bit of seeing it the way I want to, but I haven’t bent the truth to fit it comfortably into good-looking lines.

Where are your friends when they go away?

The loneliness of being stuck at a place all day. The past is like a photo lineup of freeze-frames. Life as it used to be. There’s no point in living in the past. But, it is great fodder to me for analysis. Social behavioral patterns from your own study case!

When you stop only you tend to look around. You may have kept running, which may be good in its regard. Then, stopping and looking around is the point of certain realizations that usually has the potential of becoming turning points in your life.

The friendship then becomes limited to short-duration calls on the phone: placed out-of-the-blue for maximum effect.

I’m writing a book. So, I’m on a break from blogging.

Maybe, if anything really important turns up… I’ll be back here.

The title has nothing to do with the writing. But, does it matter in a world, where a lot of things are metaphorical and everyone has the freedom to read personal meanings  into everything and approach each thing with presumption; I guess it’s normal, and more human enough to do that.

This again has the subtext of random braindrop running parallel through: I’m not sure if many would share a same feeling! Okay, there’ll be a random few. I’m keeping a dollop of presumption, because I’ve had loneliness of standing among people and seeing absolutely no passion for life, at all from them. I remember Suraj Mani from Motherjane asking on Rosebowl (Rockumentary) that,

“A lot of people have asked me ‘how do you manage to do this and make a living at the same time?’ …All of us are sharing a passion. All of us are living a passion. I have a question to ask you, ‘How is it that you can live without having a passion?’”

Writing about this actually made me dig up the video and share it. Enjoy the video!

That’s the feeling you discover that something is your calling. That something will make meaning out of your trifle life, that you’ve thought till then, pointless.

We ended up talking occasionally on chats after he added me on Yahoo! Messenger and it was fun. He talked of all the interesting stuff on the web, it was occasional, limited to tech talks and small talks if it all they popped up, …and gradually came a phase we didn’t talk for months, and that we didn’t talk slipped both our minds. But, then again, we started talking, on some computer issue after a while.

I can’t remember for sure, when we got “really” talking when we started on with all the fun stuff again: web, more web, gags, comics, cartoons, web stuff, people, relationships and we’ve never stopped, unless we get too tired and need some sleep or someone rather important turns up/calls.

These talks I’ve had are among the most productive of things I’ve done in recent times. For no reason why, I’ve not been writing much: so that’s no serious writing of any kind – be it poetry (which I love madly) and stories (which to me plotting doom and playing “god”, both is fun); so with these lacking the graph favored the “talks” in the larger framework of creative things.

I’ve a feeling looming from deep inside me that we’d be rather more than just talkers, we’re bound to create something that’d change both our lives forever. I don’t wish to wait. Let the things fall into place assisted by its own volition and surprise me in the face like the events before them never happened.

I’ve been doing: a lot of stuff, in fact together through the day, through life, and randomly they were creative. I decided that I’ll revisit each love in person: have a one-on-one talk and not make a decision, and open my eyes. So, the decision of where to focus on and “dedicating my whole life to”: should I settle for being a writer, filmmaker, blogger, photographer, copywriter or a creative person who still hasn’t found his calling? Now, just as the “serious” writing phase was about to take shape for the second abrupt time (first, being in school; the college being a dull chasm) my HDD crashed taking with it, a draft of the novel I started. Now, I’ve to start afresh, since I was stupid enough to overlook the importance of backup even after reliability of digital data on a HDD was tested a few months back with the whole set of photos that I’d shot on my mobile (which really is a lot; oh, that was a heartbreak). Life drops in scary free-fall when you move into assess the damage that’s been done mode.

Fresh, is a new sign. Maybe, it’ll do me and my story good.

Most of this is a mood-swing, the rest is regurgitated crap from past creative-times: yes, that reminds me of how I have been. Yes, I’ve been good to the point where I’d my takers. I wrote and people read. Then, comes a point where you stop. Start again, you look around and you don’t know how it will be: this has become more than a game of show and tell. It itself has moved on. How crazy is that, something deep inside you taking a life of its own, packing its baggage without your notice and just leaving.

Okay, I’m concluding that you’ve either come to decide that, “I’m never stepping my soiled foot on this forsaken blog again.” or “That, this guy must be a higher form of life that skipped evolutionary paradigms and evolved in superior cortex.” Thank you for allowing to make my two cents. Yes, I was actually not paid to say this. But then, I paid myself: in human eccentricity!

I can’t wait long for good things to happen, since I’m selfish. Since I’m selfish, I need fodder to keep that same instinct intact.

This makes things harder for me: life isn’t like a dream, (though it’s possible) except that this isn’t a point where I can wish for a big bar of chocolate and buy it without going through “if-I-do-this-now-will-I-have-money-for-something-else-tomorrow?”

And so, I’ve to wait. Not just for the chocolate.

But… we do nothing about the way people around us, people on whom you can subject change upon, are left to learn things the hard way, go through the rigorous factory-like setup of churning out “high school grads” and “grads” until they realize they’ve wasted their years on something they don’t root by the heart for.

We acknowledge the fact that each of us, that each child is an individual, the individuality ceases to be within those lines themselves as we put them through school and college and let them be creatively and collectively tormented out of their natural inclinations. While we’re subjected to a new “…where else, but school? There’s nowhere else to be” we feel the urgent need to look for a better plan.

We talk on length on the need for change while we go through the recursice process that we hate so much and yet send our children through the same hula hoops again and make their brains work like a cuckoo clock.

We know everything yet we don’t want to do it ourselves. How the first step remains never taken and the road untrodden. How we let every generation succumb to great creative damage as it passes by us, when we particularly have the duty of “caring enough”.

I close with my pick of The Best Videos of Sir Ken Robinson, creativity expert; my personal hero.

Sir Ken Robinson: Do schools kill creativity?

“Sir Ken Robinson makes an entertaining and profoundly moving case for creating an education system that nurtures (rather than undermines) creativity.”

Sir Ken Robinson, Hammer Lectures

“Ken Robinson has written numerous books, most recently “The Element: How Finding Your Passion Changes Everything.” This talk explores ways to connect peoples’ natural aptitudes with their personal passions to achieve at their highest levels in education and business. He was knighted by Queen Elizabeth II in 2003 for his outstanding achievements in education and the arts.”

Do Schools Destroy Creativity? – Ken Robinson

“Sir Ken Robinson says a schismatic view of the mind has marginalized many people’s talents, creating a crisis of human resources. “Human dysfunction…is a bounty for all kinds of corporations and institutions,” says Robinson.”