transitions

I dreamed of a hours I had left behind. As I peeked through the dusty windows, I saw within all that I had ever left behind and never missed. Until I saw it through that dusty pane. All my belongings that had been left behind, waiting patiently for me to return, like old friends.

death

 

There is little else that so appropriately sums us the existence of all that lives on this planet than the birth and death of a kitten. We are all born naked, screaming and terrified, clutching vainly at the delicate thread that binds us to fragile existence. We shakily gulp down a few snatched morsels of air from this world before we are forced into the unyielding darkness of nonexistence. From dust to dust.

RIP babies, we will miss all that you could have added to our own few pathetic breaths.

of Fireflies and the human condition

After reading reviews citing it as one of the most depressing movies ever seen by users, and with an IMDB user rating of 8.2, plus a top 200 slot in the IMDB Top 250 movies list, I finally got down to watching Grave of the Fireflies. Yes, it’s an anime movie (fairly short, about 80 minutes long) and while I generally get quite depressed over movies displaying the lamentable human condition and the general apathy of society to this condition, I was underwhelmed.

It saddens me to think that our species as a whole and myself as a single unit of said species may have, in the name of art that oversteps its own chalked lines in terms of depravity and pathos, desensitized itself to suffering in general. I cannot speak for anyone apart for myself, which is why I rarely bother speaking at all, but to be desensitized to the suffering of your fellow man, in my opinion, makes one confirmedly set themselves apart from the rest of the species as a whole and judge outside ourselves. In order to judge in this way, one must either me tremendously concieted, be the holder of delusions of grandeur of the highest order, or simply be mad. Which of the above most accurately describes my own condition, I have yet to determine, due to a lack of an objectivity about the self.

… work calls, as always. Musings to be continued another day.

expectation

When does the newlywed bliss wear off? I wouldn’t know personally. All I do know is that when a woman walks into an institution around which there has been such a hype built from birth (we’ve all been there, it is the rare Pakistani household in which there has not been jokes of marriage at every opportunity), there is an overinflation of expectations.

As the days go by, they slowly deflate to a reasonable size, and then deflate some more because men are really rather silly and we need to make room for a lot of silliness before we can accept them as partners.

I suppose what I’m saying is, expect to have great expectations and expect to have them chopped down slowly as you adjust to normal life. The grand gesture is not always coming, nor is it is always a fairy tale. Sometimes it’s just two people trying to adjust to each other and dig out a way of life.

… happily ever after

It is a little known fact that good old Sleeping Beauty, the achetype for women everywhere (primarily because she lay dormant until a random Handsome Prince arrived to awaken and whisk away from drab dormancy), did not want to be awakened nor did she particular want to be whisked off.

What people do not realize is that before she was “Sleeping Beauty”, a purely subjective name provided to her by the ancestors of modern marketers, the crone-like matrons of her time, as a marketing gimmick to attrack the target audience, i.e. princes of a marryable age from far and wide before she got too old and became a burden on her parents (ancestors of the modern Pakistani parent), she was simply Aurora and she had no grand ambitions nor any driving ambition. And that was okay.

As she lay there, immersed in her dream-based world, she was perfectly happy and had no need for a man to come by and drag her out to reality, where the flowers die after blooming and the sun sets and disappears.

And so, as she was awakened and dragged off to some distant kingdom while all and sundry rejoiced, she couldn’t help thinking “is this what I really wanted?”, but it was already too late. And they lived happily ever after because once the bride is gone to “apna ghar”, nobody bothered to keep in touch and check on if she was actually happy. Details like that would spoil the happy ending.

ethos

Being in a relationship is more about developing habits than anything. Go a few days developing the habit of having someone want to know what you’re doing, what you happen to be thinking, ask for you to vent about anything on your mind, ask about your day and actually care and the next time they’re away or unable to be in touch and continue to reinforce the habit, you will find yourself oddly amiss.

The same can, however, can apply to the removal of a habit already formed.

The Return

As I type, I feel around me a cough-syrup induced haze that clouds my mind and makes my eyes sting if I keep them open too long. 

Having made a belated new year’s resolution to start blogging proper-like once again, I now speak to you from the dark recession of the underbelly of the corporate world.

Fairly or unfairly, I blame the corporate world of squeezing my creativity dry one drop at a time to pitch the same ideas to various clients. When nine hours of the day you are steered in certain “acceptable” directions of thought and idea generation, over a period of time you automatically close off the “unacceptable” (or shall I call them unprofitable) avenues of your thought process and start running with the herd.

And then there are the drones who do not think anymore, who believe it is futile to think about that which you believe you cannot (or do not want to) change. It is my fear that this environment of soul sucking that I call the industry I am employed in would slowly break me down in to individual components of profitability from my wasteful self.

And so I must bid farewell to those patient enough thus far to follow this random and indulgent train of thought and attempt to feebly promise better things to come as I try to reclaim the recession of my mind. Adieu!

Pre-Martial Bliss

Yes, people, it’s true: I am now officially engaged to longtime friend and future husband-to-be.

Last night our families finally went face to face in a formal setting and got to meet each other and formally “engage” us, so to speak.

More later on pre-marital activities.

A fresh start

The fact that things word out (dare I say miraculously) may be proof of a higher power watching over us. But then again, the fact that there are so many other more deserving candidates for these miracles than I throws this into further doubt than ever.

Confused? You’re not the only one.

evolution

Evolution is fact. I know it beyond a shadow of doubt now.

To grow and to change, to improve to adapt to our surroundings (after we attempt to make them change to adapt to us), it is only natural.

I can feel my own personal evolution, as I mentally map my physical and spiritual journey across the decades. The change I can feel at the tip of my nerve endings each day, that should be proof enough of a personal evolutionary process that governs our lives?

Yesterday, I would have risen to this bait. Today, I am immune to it, the part of my brain that made every casual challenge a matter of life and death is gone.

I am renewed and surpass my own shadow every day. Is this not evolving?