Return of the post ;)

It's been a year since I have written anything, writing on the blog itself is turning into an ebbing hobby. Today, rather tonight as I logged in, I saw the latest draft staring at me. It was created just a month ago and boasted an intriguing title - "The Perils of Work". I had no memory of what this draft post was about. And when I viewed the actual post, it was just blank. How much ever I try, I cannot recollect what I was planning to write in that post, under that title. Can't even say what the 'work' there refers to! But this draft was created just a month ago! All I remember is that I had logged into the blog and was on the verge of writing something but couldn't proceed further due to some reason. The reason doesn't matter now, obviously, but what was this lost draft supposed to be about! I suppose the loss of the content of that draft doesn't matter either. Not as if I would have been unveiling pearls of wisdom in there.

With this current post, I was just wanted to experience what I used to have almost five years ago. The ability to just type without giving a second thought or read to what I was saying or wished to convey. Just type. Just let the fingers go on. Almost autonomously.

When did the blog turn from being just a medium to express myself into a medium where I compose and coherently put up a reasonably well-drafted article. It is not due to the readers. There are almost none now. At least during the glory days of haphazard posts of the long lost past, there used to be readers and their comments. That was the time when blogs still made sense. Now there exists the 'real' social media. Blogs have no place anymore.

In all places, especially in social media, we are bombarded by these wise advices -- "follow your heart", "do what you love", "live life in your own way", "Today is the day to start your new, better life", and so on and so on and so on.

Of course, I was paraphrasing above. We are bombarded by these in much more beautified avatars. But the essence of all of them is the same. The point, however, remains -- what if the heart isn't going anywhere, what do you follow? What if you have no idea what you love? What if you never had a 'way' to live your life? And what if you do not know what a better life is? The ills that ail you now, may ail you in a different way in that 'better' life. But they will still ail you! Taking another step back, what is an ill and what is not? Aren't they all just in your perception. While you might think you are not successful, someone else might think you are mighty successful. So, why change your life? That is unlikely to reveal any sustained benefit. Why not just change your perception? Why do anything? Just to arrogate an artificial purpose to your existence?

Long time, here is a post.

Why havent i posted for so long? To tell the truth, i had nothing to say. This doesnt mean that i always had something to say when i blog ... but i was never in the mood of writing these past few weeks. The character William Forrester of Finding Forrester (played by Sean Connery) who is a well-known reclusive writer says, "When you write, write. Dont think." This had been the maxim for most of my posts. Recently however, i have started to post only when there was something worth to be told. Hence, havent blogged since long as nothing worth blogging has happened. No .. dont let your hopes rise, nothing interesting has happened now either.

The stuff below is not going to make any sense.

Looking ahead. You dont really care. But you look anyway. Why? Because that is the direction you can bear looking. You cant turn around. you dont want to turn around. You are all alone. In reality, you arent. Forever surrounded by people, forever talking to someone or the other. Yet, in reality, you feel alone. Solitary not physically, not emotinally either, neither spiritually but solitary somehow. Do you always know what is good for you. Forget that question, do you atleast sometimes know, what you exactly want? Is it that what you crave for is what you actually want. And, i havent even started about the 'need' part yet. Do we know ourselves? If not, then who else would know you? Do we even need to know ourselves? What do you gain by knowing yourselves? Is the gain factor really relevant?
On another note, is every living being selfish? Can you call, fighting for survival, selfishness? If not, then cant anyone state that something is desperately needed for their existence, when we accuse them of being selfish? Is being selfish bad? Why should it be? But why am i talking about 'selfish' anyway. That too without any provocation whatsoever. What ever i have been typing, i have been typing just for the sake of typing.....

Why? are you a snail?

So, the question is why am i blogging at such a painstaking and atrophying rate these past few months. there must be some reasons eh?

for one, life is going smoothly and pretty quickly, thereby not letting me think up of any worthless matter-less matter to add to the mess of the interconnected garbage spewing conglomeration. although, there are train-loads of uncertainties abound, some about the present, some about the immediate future, and some more about the time after that, those are being recklessly pushed out of sight and imprisoned in dark places.

Okay, the blog has tremendously enjoyed its break. It perfectly used its more than 5 months vacation to refresh and rejuvenate itself and learn and imbibe techniques and procedures for using and incorporating more and excess words and adjectives in its sentences and statements than necessary or required. Anyhow, the blog is now back to its dreary life of just acting as a medium for the rambling of its purposeless author.

So, did you zone out while reading the paragraph above? I would have. I remember that until recently, I used to be a very keen listener when carrying out one-to-one or group conversations, face-to-face or via phone (ofcourse, I have always drifted off and slept in any kind of talks/seminars/classes irrespective of how interesting it might be :D, and continue to do so). I listened so well that not only did I comprehend well about what was said, I would also notice the various grammatical/factual errors and forcefully stop myself from interrupting and pointing them out.

But lately, over the past year, I find that I seem to frequently zone out or drift away into my own thoughts while carrying out a conversation with someone. However, the saving grace is that my face and gestures do not betray this at all. Coming back into such conversations, I realise that I had been pretending to listen- nodding at the appropriate times, speaking the appropriate words, even occasionally asking an appropriate question, while absolutely not remembering what was said. And find the speaker continuing on his discourse oblivious to the mental absence of his/her audience. It is as if an automated responder takes over me leaving my mind free to wander. However, some drawbacks of this zoning out phenomenon are that I wouldn't have much of an idea about what was said, (who knows it might have even been interesting or useful) and I appear to be a poor conversationalist (obviously, the 'hmm's and yeahs don't make the best responses all the time.)

And yeah, the above described habit of mine is limited to voice conversations only, I still chat with all my vigour :P

Yet, I post. the audacity!

He had been ignoring it. He realised it as soon as he paid attention to it. The sound had been faintly audible, in short bursts, for a while now. But he had subconsciously chosen to ignore it. Not any more, though mostly drowned out by the general noise of music, traffic et al., this faint jarring noise annoyed him the most. So he set down to investigate.
---
They both were like two 16th century armies facing each other, ready for attack from either side of a vast field. His artillery was just waiting for the opportune moment to strike. The other side had a different kind of weapon, a hidden one.
---
What a load of rubbish .. what was I even trying to write! If I was writing on paper like in olden times instead of typing on this laptop, I would have torn off the sheet, crumpled it into the tiniest ball possible and thrown it as far as possible, even hoping that it hit and annoy someone on its way to oblivion. That's because, whatever words and sentences I manage to manufacture seem pathetic. Ironically, I am writing this post to complain that I am not able to come up with even one decent sentence for the whole day today! Writing a small 4-sentences mail, whose content was somewhat clear, whose importance was questionable anyway, took me a good part of an hour. I just seemed unable to start a sentence, leave alone be able to reach the period aka full-stop in the end. And now tried to start writing a post to compensate for the failures haunting me for the whole day, and guess what, it just proves that I haven't been in any illusion ... I just can't come up with anything worth-while today ...

Yet, I post. the audacity!

Why are teenagers bewitched by anything Love?

I've been trying to think of a good topic to write on for the past few days. So much so that I was ready to try out writing stories, poems, whatever that came to my mind at any given time. I even started on a story to give it a temporary death. But, during this process what really struck me odd was anything that I wished to write about had something love in it. Even my thought process went something like: Umm! Story likhun? A love story? Ugh! No. A thriller then? Suspense and you don't go together beh! Sci-fi then? Don't you even dare venture to anything science! What then? A story on teenagers? Ooh! With coffee shops and love types? Nice. Love story in a coffee shop sounds good.

Even when it came to writing verses, I started on love. Some random verse talking about love: a sad poem, an unrequited love poem, lines on long distance relationships etc. [It's quite amazingly hilarious on how many different forms of love we are dealing with here!]

Now, coming back a full circle, Why exactly are we so enamored by love? What is it about love that hooks our mind, body and soul together that we end up in knots?

I haven't written this post because of a revelation. It's mere curiosity that makes me type my thoughts. And hence you won't be finding much answers here. Just the questions. Answer and make me understand if you have understood my context in writing this post.

For those who haven't, let me just polish my thoughts further. I've been vague, very vague in actually letting my post connect to my brain. This post is not denying that teenagers are just teenagers and hence so not subservient to the emotion. It's all about how they are ensnared in it's web. Love happens and how so many things continue one after the other.
You know like continuously updating commitment status on social networking sites, writing poems, checking 'hoRRoRscopes', doodling hearts, taking love quizzes, etc (. It's an unknown extra up until the hormone started kicking early, as early as 10 years or under. For teenagers, the cure for boredom IS curiousity. Consequently, you can count on them to find 402834719 ways to define a thing, especially something as cryptic as love. Which boils down to the fact that there shall be continuous efforts to conquer Love till a new something threatens people and there mind space.

Conclusion: Love really is an Addiction.

P.S: Based on observation and discussions with my teenage cousins

Its been a while..

yeah, almost 2 months had passed since the last post, but then it doesn't matter, does it?

many a ideas came by and then went away before i could catch hold of them.

i seem to be at a loss for words. abstraction doesn't seem to be effortless anymore.

so what should i talk about? the few movies that i managed to watch or the many many more that i ought to have watched but haven't?

the book that i bought 2 months ago but whose first page is still waiting to be discovered? or the many other books that were gifted to me over the past year which have been patiently waiting for their turn, in a line on the only filled shelf in my room?

or the busy days that seem to pass by in a hurry, but each day lingering long enough to proclaim that nothing much was achieved in it?

and on a unrelated note (not that most of the statements above have any clear relations within them), i realise i haven't been blogging much about my work, or my life here ....

why? perhaps because it is all good with nothing much to crib about, yet not extraordinary enough to entitle a discourse?

i realised i had forgotten to think. caught up in the grinds of the quickly passing days filled with something to do or postpone all the time, i haven't been giving enough time to the so called inner self.

as i have heard before, one's thoughts are one's most private and quintessential belongings. most inseparable and absolutely unobtainable by others. at least for now, until technology finds a way i guess :).

For singles this valentine's

Take 60ml whiskey.

Add ice cubes.

Gulp it down.

Repeat above for 5 minutes.

Pick complex urdu words.

Make a sentence.

Add "Ghalib"

Once done with moaning!!

Pick up the pieces of your self respect you allowed someone to break and trample. Try joining them and love yourself.

Love,
Stereotype looser.